The story seemed too incredibletoo Hollywoodto be true: A group of twentysomething surfers and a former high school Spanish teacher form one of the most successful smuggling operations in the country. When writer Joshuah Bearman, author of the story that became Oscar-winning Argo, came upon the story, he thought it was improbable at best and, at worst, apocryphal. Then he started reporting… and reporting… making call after call, building trust with every surviving member of what would eventually be called the Coronado Company. “It was difficult to piece together,” Bearman says now. “Everyone was wary when they first talked to me, but eventually I gained their trust.” Nine months later, he knew that the true, full storyits every twist and turnwas even more incredible than those first sketchy details. What started with a single surfer, swimming a few bales of crappy pot from Mexico, became a worldwide operation, specializing in trans-Oceanic smuggling and Thai Stick, the most potent, valuable stuff on Earth. The story of the rise and fall of the Coronado Companytold in fullis available now on newsstands in the July issue of GQ. The full story will run at GQ.com in September. But why wait? Surfers, pot, evading the lawCoronado High is the perfect beach read. And if you need more convincing, check out this excerpt from Bearman’s piece, set during the Company’s most lucrative years:
As the boss of an ever growing empire, Lou had long since traded his VW bus for a black Ferrari 246 GTS. In the trunk, he’d carry a valise full of “fun tickets”: C-notes to satisfy any whim. The idealism of the ’60s had given way to the excesses of the ’70s. Lou and Ed collected a fleet of Mercedeses and Ferraris between them and bought palatial homes. Lou spent fifteen grand on a fake passport using the name “Peter Grant,” bought a Mercedes as “James Benson,” shopped at Wilkes Bashford as “Richard Malone.”
Sometimes Lou’s story was that he was a trust funder. Sometimes he was the son of a Texas wildcatter. Once he was mistaken for a member of KISS, and he didn’t deny it. Whoever he was, Lou owned it. “I’m in oil,” he’d say. “And if you ask any more questions, I’ll ask you to leave.”
Read the entire GQ article here.
