Vanessa Bauza

HAVANA · Luis Grass had much to celebrate this New Year's Eve: a new home, opportunities and a fresh start.

The Cuban mechanic made headlines last year after converting two vintage American jalopies into floating, amphibious vessels in thwarted attempts to reach South Florida. After spending 10 months at the U.S. Naval Base in Guantanamo Bay, Grass, his wife, Isora, and their 5-year-old son Angel Luis were granted political asylum and relocated to San José, Costa Rica, last month.

But when the clock struck 12, his thoughts were with the family he left behind in the run-down Havana neighborhood of Diezmero.

"I went to bed sad, melancholic because I am far away from my family, from my children," said Grass, 36, who left behind a 13-year-old son and 9-year-old daughter from his first marriage.

Still, despite his homesickness, Grass gushed about the new life he has found in Costa Rica a year after risking it all on the sea.

"I feel like a different person because I have freedom," he said in a phone interview from San José. "Someone without freedom is like a caged bird. That's what happens to Cubans. … It's like a punishment that's imposed daily."

Unlike Cuba, where he felt trapped by minuscule state salaries and penalties on private enterprise, Costa Rica offers possibilities for his family's future, Grass said.

"I can shout it, say, `I am free to do whatever,'" he said. "I can buy a car, buy things for my son with my salary and not have to invent like the people in Cuba."

As a refugee, Grass said, his family will receive $1,350 a month in financial assistance for six months. Cubans living in Costa Rica also have extended a helping hand, including Huber Matos Jr., the son the former revolutionary hero turned Fidel Castro opponent.

Grass said he will receive a work permit from the Costa Rican government on Jan. 17. He has spent the past month doing what he knows best: repairing the cars of his Cuban friends.

Grass became a folk hero to car buffs in July 2003, when he and 11 others sailed away from Cuba in a 1951 Chevy truck attached to a pontoon of 55-gallon drums. Puttering along at about 8 mph, the group of would-be migrants steered to within 40 miles of South Florida when the U.S. Coast Guard intercepted them. Grass and the others were repatriated. The seagoing Chevy was deemed a navigational hazard and destroyed.

Once back in Havana, Grass and the others applied for political asylum at the U.S. diplomatic mission, but most of the migrants were rejected for not meeting the necessary requirements.

So, once again, in February 2004, Grass and his friends retrofitted a 1959 tail-finned Buick. They sealed the bottom of the car, added a retractable propeller and injected foam into the Buick's fenders to make it float.

The group of 11 was intercepted again. Like the ingenious but ill-fated Chevy, the Buick was sunk. All the immigrants were repatriated to Cuba except Grass and his family, who were taken to the U.S. Naval Base at Guantanamo Bay, after U.S. officials said they demonstrated a credible fear of persecution.

After almost 10 months at the naval base awaiting asylum, Grass and several other Cubans became frustrated and staged a hunger strike. On Dec. 1, his family and 17 other Cuban refugees were relocated to Costa Rica.

Grass' arrival in Costa Rica received so much media attention that sometimes strangers and taxi drivers recognize him as the creative "camionauta" or "truckonaut." Filmmakers have expressed an interest in his story. But for now he wants to live a quiet life outside the public eye.

He is circumspect when asked about the possibility of someday moving to Miami, his original destination where an uncle and several cousins live.

"I want to prosper. I know I will do well here," he said of Costa Rica. "If there are other possibilities to get ahead I will see."

Back in Havana, other would-be immigrants who were repatriated after the Buick voyage wished Grass well. However, their prospects for legal immigration are still unclear.

Dr. Nivia Valdes, whose husband, Rafael Diaz, owned the Buick-boat, was selected for the U.S. visa lottery, which grants about 20,000 Cubans the opportunity to move to the United States every year. However, because she is a doctor she says it could take up to five years for the Cuban government to grant her an exit permit. For now her family's future is in limbo, she said.

"We are like dead, we don't do anything. For what? Our plan is to leave," Diaz said.

Vanessa Bauzá can be reached at vmbauza1@yahoo.com

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