We’re on the Azamara line, on a small cruiser with less than 700 passengers (the big ones carry 5000). That proved to be an advantage, as there is less of the cattle car effect in every aspect of sea life.

After a day at sea out from Miami, we docked in Cozumel about 7AM. Might have been Sunday.

Cozumel is a small island – about 45 kilometers long and 25 wide – located about 3 hours off the coast of Cancun by ferry.

Not being a particular fan of ship excursions, I disembarked, and began walking down the local streets past the inevitable shops and tourist traps that infect every deep water cruise ship embarcadero. A dude pops up out of nowhere and says What you looking for amigo?

I want to rent a motorbike.

Right here my friend right here.

Soon I’m in Hector’s Cycle Shop, giving him $30 for one day with the scooter. A fairly good little Honda – top speed about 50, centrifugal force clutch, no shifting. Hector shows me a map of the island and asks what I want to see. I notice some Mayan ruins marked on the map and ask for directions. There is a road that bisects the island, straight across, with the ruins marked at about halfway to the other shore. How hard could it be?

So off I go down the unmarked streets, trying my best to follow the little road map. Very soon I’m out of town on a flat little country road that leads into the outback. Cozumel is a simple unpretentious island, much cleaner and better maintained than Isla de Mujeres, or Cancun. The weather is fairly perfect, just enough overcast so it’s not very hot.

Very few structures on the little road through the outback – mostly just jungle and sand. No traffic to speak of. A few abandoned tourists trap structures, maybe an occasional finca – the Cozumel version of an estate, but nothing really well kept.

After missing the hidden sign for the San Gervasio ruins the first time, I finally turn into their driveway, which turns out to be 6 kilometers long – another smaller straight alleyway through a denser jungle, no intersections, no structures. No cars whatsoever now. Starting to think I might be the first guy back in there since the Mayans.

Finally I pull into a big empty parking lot with a large touristy looking building. This must be the place.

Nobody around. Walking into the entrance, a guy shows up and charges me $14.50 to start walking the path through the ruins.

It was pretty lame – seems like the locals are hoping they can pull this thing off just one more day. The ruins are just a few piles of old stones which used to be structures – mostly just foundations plus maybe a wall or two here and there. Only a very few other tourists around.

At each dilapidated pile of stones they had a plaque inscribed in 3 languages – English, Spanish and German. Very sketchy information, made even less credible by the dates they attribute to the Mayans: all the plaques say the same thing: about 1620 AD.

Everyone knows that’s off by about 4000 years since the Mayans lived in Mexico about 2500 years before Christ. I mean Cortez and Pizarro were there in the 1500s for Christ’s sake – by which time the Mayans had long since vanished into the evanescent vapors of time.

After about 20 minutes, the Tourist Trap alarm finally kicks in and I’m back out on the road in the twinkling of an eye.

Now it was time to traverse the island the rest of the way through to the other side. It wasn’t far. Straight road – no cops, no cars.

Soon I’m riding south along the beach, now on the Caribbean side, with this impossibly preternatural looking iridescent azure/aquamarine/turquoise water you only find in Mexico, and in psychedelic reveries.

Or so I have read.

Suddenly I see what looks like a dark brown cat jump out of the jungle a little ways in front of me and scramble across the road. Same size as a house cat. Getting closer I could see it wasn’t a cat at all but some strange mammal I’ve never seen, with a long pointy head ending in a longer pointier snout, with a long bushy tail that looked just like a cat’s. WTF?

After another 20 km or so, I see something ahead on the beach side of the road. It’s a solitary hotel – medium size. Slowing down I see there’s just a few tourists and iguanas lounging about. Not very inviting – a little beyond tranquil, so I start to keep on cruising down the road.

But after a couple hundred yards, I notice there is another parking lot with a few cars. No buildings in sight, so I wonder where everyone is going. Then I notice this nice little sign that says Coconuts, and see a little concrete stairway disappearing straight up into the dense jungle undergrowth, up a hill. Looking up, there are no manmade structures, no evidence of human habitation. Just the Coconuts sign and the staircase.

All the indicators of a move on the part of my destiny. By instinct alone I pull over and park. Walking closer to the stairway, I see there are other alluring signs enticing the intrepid voyager to start climbing: “I’m Home Take Me Drunk” – “What Happens In Coconuts Stays in Coconuts” “Stairway to Heaven” etc.

Now as you ascend the steps you can see nothing on either side except overgrown jungle foliage. You’re operating on faith alone at this point. Finally at the summit, the mystery unfolds. A giant Tiki hut shelters a very large, well appointed bar and restaurant. Lord take me. There are a fair number of customers sprinkled throughout at the bar and tables – American and Euro travelers.

Walking through the bar there is an outer patio in the sand with more umbrellaed tables. Several waiters bustling about carrying drinks and food. Making your way to the outer edge of the patio your actual position is finally revealed.

You’re atop a high cliff that overlooks miles of that shocking blue green crystal sea, surf breaking against the white sand, just like it’s been doing since the Mayans were up there casting down virgins to their goddess of fertility. Very evolved, oh yes, like all the revisionist documentaries tell us.

Choosing a table occupied only by the bar mascot – a semi comatose Doberman named Jaegermeister, I soon learned that Coconuts has been there for over 20 years. All these tourists must have found it online – sure not getting many walk-ins from the road. Few would respond to a sudden mystical impulse, and that small sign out front.

The music from their excellent sound system sealed the deal: Freddy at Wembley, etc hitting their target demographic with rock hits from the 80s and 90s. They were channeling their ambience from a Cleveland rock station doing a commercial-free St Patrick’s day afternoon.

It was perfect.

Time for my semiannual cocktail. Coconuts’ idea of a margarita is a giant libation bowl full of tequila with a slice of lime. I had to add sparking water to keep diluting it.

Superb cuisine as well. I recommend the Big Grilled Shrimp – butterfly’d to perfection in garlic and butter.

Met several people from all over the world at that bar. The bartender was an encyclopedia of trivia on excesses of all description. It was during this time that I learned the identity of that peculiar brown jungle house cat who had crossed my path. After detailed discussions with the staff, I leaned that it was a coati – a Mexican raccoon.

Magically I was becoming more and more fluent in Spanish the longer I stayed in that bar, trotting out the entonces, si claro’s, lo que whatevers, and a seemingly inexhaustible vocabulary, vestiges of a misspent youth in Cabo, Barcelona, Panama City, Medellin, Tamarindo, etc. Suddenly I was talking like Zorro.

There was just no reason to leave.

Whether I was aware of it or not, I had just discovered the best bar not just in Cozumel but in the Caribbean: best location, best food, best drinks, best layout, best music.

After an indeterminate amount of time, which included getting the complete medical history of the owner as well as of Jaegermeister, alas the bill always comes, and I found my way going back down the enchanted stairs. It seemed transmogrified somehow now, unfamiliar, something from a distant past.

Not really apprehensive about driving a motor vehicle since I had it from an unimpeachable authority (the bartender) that driving under the influence was not only permitted in Cozumel – it was encouraged. No cars, no cops, remember?

Hopping aboard my trusty steed, I was soon back on that beach road heading south once more. The Honda seemed to handle much smoother now for some reason, despite the road’s occasional metamorphosis into the Loch Ness monster.

When a van passed on the left, following in its wake I learned that our speed ceiling had lifted considerably. Much less resistance when you’re flying. The only 2 vehicles on the straight flat beach road, 20 km slipped by in a moment.

Seeing another large structure up ahead, I slowed down to resume sightseeing mode. Just then another Mexican raccoon – if that’s what they truly are – scurried across the road. Remembering that the first one had appeared before the Coconuts adventure, I was more confident that they actually existed. Although I won’t be certain until I get a chance to consult the Deep Web.

Slowing down now for the very large building in the middle of nowhere, I see it’s a – yes, a Carlos and Charlies bar and grille! A large respectable touristy franchise throughout central America, especially Mexico. Have to check this out.

Walked up through the bar through the restaurant to see that there was a whole array of water sports out back there on the beach. Including many jet skis. With no customers. I was surprised to give the jetski guy $65 but on the other hand in 5 minutes I was out there racing across the electrically opalescent backdrop to a liquid graphic novel. Very few tourists along the beach but there were a few party boats flying by who didn’t mind having a jetski jumping their wakes.

Sliding back onto the beach, I began chatting with the mamasan owner of the jetskis. When I told her we were on our way to Havana, being part Cuban she began to fill me in on the geopolitical dynamic between Cuba and the US.


Subplot digression. I set the stage for her by describing my previous trip to Havana some 14 years ago. When it was illegal to go there. A classmate of mine had been very successful, with a string of clinics in Boston. So now he had 2 boats – a little sailing yacht in Martha’s Vineyard and a fair size cabin cruiser down in Biscayne Bay. It was a 36’ Hatteras with twin 290s, with a flydeck, for all you old salts. And he called and invited my lawyer and me to help him cruise down to Havana.

And we said what everyone said at that time—but isn’t that illegal? And the answer was – of course but everyone does it.

Even the lawyer couldn’t argue with that kind of logic, so off we went down to Key West on a bright Sunday afternoon. Then at 3 am over to Havana with yours truly as pilot, when they fell asleep. When all the onboard electric went out I found out that celestial navigation really works. The harbormaster at Hemingway Marina in Havana was actually quite hospitable to an unknown foreign vessel.

We stayed in Cuba for a week. There were very few tourists in Havana back then. I guess Fidel’s uniformed teenage soldiers with cheap Uzi’s on every other street corner didn’t exactly broadcast a message of fun family vacationing. But we got to know the local people very well and learned what it was like to live under Castro for the ordinary people – Banana communism. Meet the new boss same as the old boss. Viva Cuba Libre.

I know, right?

Havana was really run down. Everybody lived in old tenement buildings and hung out on the street all day. Some people work but most don’t. Almost no chance for advancement or success as we know it. Very limited goals and low spark of life expectations. But there was no rent and nobody was starving or homeless. Socialized education and medicine. Just that they were kept down to a very low vibration of existence. Just like Vietnam – and any other communist/socialist set up there ever was. Be grateful for bare subsistence, don’t make waves, and you’ll be fine. But complain or show any aspiration for a better life and suddenly phhtt! You disappear.

Nice people, great food, however.

End of digression.

Ok now back to the Cozumel jetski Mamasan, present time. So what do we see with Cuba in 2019? Well Obama was in favor of re-establishing relations with Fidel or his brother Raul – or with any number of illegals coming over – whatever – he was easy. They talked about it and soon American jetliners were allowed back into Cuba.

But it never really went back to the free and easy way it was back in the days of Meyer Lansky when Havana was a classy Las Vegas and Cuba was the Pearl of the Antilles, like in the Robert Redford movie. Organized crime was so much more organized than government. And certainly more generous. Granted, Batista was no Thomas Jefferson, but at least there were some splendid world class destinations there.

So now today thousands of tourists flood Havana every week, bringing tourist dollars to Cuba, buying cigars and rum. But everything is edgy. And President Trump is not a fan, and doesn’t encourage friendship with Cuba. I asked the mamasan why not.

This gets a little complicated but hang in. She told me to remember how rundown Havana was the last time I was there 14 years ago – how poor and beat down the people were. When there were no tourists.

OK, she said that when we get to Havana in 2 days it’s going to be exactly the same – with one exception. Thousands of tourists every day flood those same run down streets with the same beat up restaurants and the shops with nothing but the cheapest junk for sale. And yes still good rum and cigars, but that’s it.

So pop quiz – where’s all this everyday tourist money going? Same place it’s always gone, in every Communist setup – straight to the top. Not most of it – all of it. The people remain dirt poor and the overlords are wealthy beyond conception.

I thanked her for the lesson and ambled on down the beach to find my Honda. As I rode back to the harbor to Hector’s I was wondering if her prediction would be true.

Turns out, she was right on the money.

Two days later we docked in Havana. Right into the city, I went walking all around – downtown, old Havana, the Nacional hotel, etc. It was all exactly what she said. Still as beat up and run down as ever. Most of the sidewalks are not even clean – nobody bothers to cut the grass or weeds anywhere. No pride of ownership. Abandoned, decaying buildings everywhere, right next to the occupied ones – same old tenements and poor people hanging out, doing nothing, wasting talent. Burning away their precious life. Just like 14 years ago.

One big difference: floods of tourists now. Cruise ships come in almost every day. Some fly in from New York, Miami, Chicago, etc. Tons of tourists bringing beaucoup dinero. Where does it go? Straight to the top. No trickle down effect – the people are as poor as ever and the streets and buildings look just as shabby. Almost no internet , very restricted cell coverage. Nobody walks around checking their phones all day. Everything’s locked down tight.

Only thing worth buying in Havana is rum and cigars. No quality clothes, jewelry, merchandise or artwork, like all over Mexico. With rare exceptions. All very primitive and Third World. Just a few cheap trinkets. And fake ice cream.

Restaurants. There are a few good ones, but they’re hard to find. In four tries I struck out. Two kinds of restaurants – government owned and family owned. Both have to pay bribes for decent food supplies – if they’re available. There’s just not enough to go round. Especially now since Brazil just cut Cuba off from any more rice or produce. Politics. And the demand is greater than ever with all the rich tourists swarming about every day. They can’t find anything to spend all their cash on. Except cigars and rum.

One big tourist distraction is some 50s cars that are taxis, with new paint jobs. Fords, Chevys, Chryslers, Pontiacs, Buicks – nothing newer than ’59. Maybe a couple hundred of them cruising around the port. But wait – on closer inspection they’re not really vintage. Most are just clunking along spewing black exhaust. Owners spend money on paint and bodywork but not on the engine or anything mechanical. Parts are not available.

Most of these cars didn’t need a paint job—they needed rings. Or shocks. Obviously no one expects it’s going to be like going to a car show in any American suburb, seeing some beautifully restored vintage 50s automobiles. But in Havana these old beaters are mostly just a tangible reminder of the last time these folks had any taste of freedom.

Now with no EPA there’s no emissions regulation. The buses running up and down the hills and streets all day spew forth enormous clouds of blue black CO, choking pedestrians in many areas. On the main streets, visibility can be like Holmes’ London in the 1800s, except more toxic. I walked through it all the way up to the Botanical Gardens, and was getting dizzy.

So was the mamasan right about the unstable connection between the US and Cuba? Every detail, spot on. A month ago on Valentine’s Day a big cruise ship arrived at Havana loaded with Cubans from America coming back to visit their relatives. Right outside the port the ship was turned back. Wouldn’t let them land. Had to go back home to Miami. Why? Unclear, but word on the street supports the mamasan: President Trump said no.

Your first instinct might be like mine – wow that’s stupid. What does America have to gain by being unfriendly? But then if you think about it, that’s the wrong question. What does America have to gain by being friendly? They are never never going to change. Cuba officially insults American tourists left and right, every day. American credit cards cannot be used anywhere in the country.

Even the ATM machines which you see here and there take cards from every other country except the US. Kiosks charge more than 11% fees to change dollars, but again those fees go to whom? The moneychangers, not the people. And the government does nothing whatsoever to improve the tourist area. In the past 15 years – nothing. More people, more trash. More idleness. Same run down tenements.

Along the bay, smokestacks may disgorge gigantic billows of toxic black pollution hundreds of feet high, every day into the atmosphere. Like mini Hiroshimas. That’s their regard for the ecosystem.

Anyone singing the praises of socialism should pop on over – here’s your chance to see it in action. This is the industrial strength version – Communism. Here is one of the most repressive setups in the world – one that will never change. All the money will always go to the top. I had a conversation with a taxi driver that went like this: Fidel, Raul, Miguel – lo mismo. Nada cambia.

He was impressed at the depth of my penetrating geopolitical acumen.

But that’s the pervasive philosophy throughout. With Cancun, Isla, and Cozumel so close, it is mystifying what the attraction is, why tourists even come here. Perhaps just the exotic allure of visiting a once-forbidden country. Truth is, Havana will never be sparkling and vibrant again. They’ll never clean the streets, never cut the weeds, build a decent public attraction or give the common people an opportunity to better themselves. MDs make $70 a month. Get the picture?

To be fair, the everyday people are mostly hospitable and friendly and open. Even to the ill-mannered tourists. And there are some beautiful beaches in Cuba, like at Varadero, Santa Maria, Santiago de Cuba, and others. But still the arts and culture are for the most part sparse, and fatally handicapped. Excellence is not encouraged, or rewarded. Because wherever you go it’s the same politics that dominates and grinds down, always grinding….

Now Mexico is certainly no ShangriLa of personal freedom, by any stretch. Corruption and poverty are part of the landscape. Open violence in some states. But at least there are dozens of first rate communities and resorts and some very well maintained sections where order and natural beauty flourish. Hard work can still yield some rewards. The same cannot be said for Cuba.

There are only two Communist countries left in the world. I know Vietnam very well so I guess I had an undergrad education in everyday Communism before I ever went to Cuba. One sees what one knows. And that’s why it’s easier to recognize the same soul-deadening totalitarian program wherever it slithers. The signs are unmistakable.

Like many folks today, I’ve been all over the world all my life. Most of us are not on a quest to find the worst dumps in the world. Travel time is precious indeed and there are some spectacular locations to visit, exceeding all expectation – where there is mutual respect, shared values, neatness and order, the development of innate talent and the human spirit, inspiration, transcendence, intracultural appreciation… Once you’ve seen those in a foreign country, you honor the experience. And you won’t get fooled again.

As for Cuba, sorry amigo, but you missed it.



Of the 600 or so passengers, more than 75 were with Dr Bergman’s group. DCs, patients, seekers, practitioners of natural medicine, etc. All were welcome.

With two full days at sea, we had plenty of time to do our CE lectures. There were 4 speakers in all.

Dr Tom McFie from Las Vegas, presented his very enlightened paradigm-shifting financial program.

Alessandro Porcellas, the owner of American BioDental, gave a talk on the new advances in his beautifully appointed holistic clinic in Tijuana. [See Oct 2017 Newsletter]

Dr Bergman
gave several lectures that substantiate the hegemony of the vitalistic model over the mechanistic. Either the body is a self regulating self healing organism or it is merely the sum of its parts. Can’t be both. Drawing from his vast clinical experience, Bergman shows reference after reference that explain the monumental success he’s had with thousands of patients for whom everyday medicine was leading to an early grave. That was before they found the most connected, most visible DC on YouTube.

My own cruise lectures were on two main topics: demystifying the orchestrated measles hysteria we’ve all been subjected to for the past 3 months. And secondly, blood detox via the 60 Day Program. I had my microscope se t up and had time to do several dozen bioterrain analyses: before and after blood tests. Right before your very eyes.

We’ve already begun to put the edited footage of those lectures on our YT channel. See Havana Blood. More to come.

So I’ve been telling you for the last 3 months not to miss this cruise. Remember? Lamentably, there’s really nothing like it in the profession. That’s why it sold out so fast.




Dr Tim O’Shea – The Cure for All Disease: Your Immune System 3 PM



    Friday 10 am: NIH Statistics on Vaccine Injury, History and Science

    Saturday morning: Vaccines, Media, and the Global Empire

    Saturday afternoon: Vaccine Injury Detox / Holistic Nutrition for Glowing Health




One of the best kept secrets today is that your body is a self regulating self healing organism, when freed from contamination and injury. Except for First Aid trauma situations, drugs have very little value for chronic illnesses, which plague more than 54% of children and 60% of adults in the US.

Creator of Dr O’Shea will share some vital details about the weapons your innate intelligence has evolved in order to survive in a world imperiled by poisons, toxins, and systematic disinformation of all kinds.

3 PM Saturday April 27



    Friday morning: Dr Tim O’Shea will provide documentation for 3 questions:

    Vaccine risks – what do the manufacturers say?
    The measles epidemic – was that real?
    Is there a vaccine injury detox protocol

    Vaccine Awareness / Holistic Nutrition Lecture

Whether or not to vaccinate is probably the most momentous decision the parent will make in the life of your child. It must be an informed decision. Do you have the evidence to address these issues:

    Are vaccines 100% safe, and effective?
    How many children actually die from vaccines: CDC
    Vaccine risks – what do the manufacturers say?
    Who is healthier – vaccinated or unvaccinated?
    Is it your child or the state’s?
    Does corporate media only present one side?
    The measles epidemic – was that real?
    Are there any other countries mandating 69 vaccines for their children?
    For those who choose not to vaccinate, what are the options?
    Vaccine injury detox protocol
    Processed vs. nutrient foods: cleanse or clog
    Tract and blood detox

Limited seating available – this event will sell out.

Register today:



Unquestionably the best, most legitimate chiropractic event left today. As the population grows sicker and less informed month by month, chiropractic is not only the best option for 100% health – it’s our only hope. No doubts, no equivocation. Either you know that or you don’t. Either way, this is your event. Realize your abundance – make the connection.

More info:



The March Newsletter never got sent out. It is archived here:

Letter to Mark Zuckerberg about the new notion of censorship


5 . Vaccination Is Not Immunization: The War On Children

For the past decade the most widely read vaccine manual for parents all over the world.

Now in 6 Languages.

This is not an anti-vaccine text. It is in favor of any vaccines that have been proven absolutely safe, effective, and necessary by legitimate, verifiable third party science wholly unconnected with the global vaccine industry..

The book is written for everyone concerned about the health and well-being of their children and of themselves.

Why is this the best vaccine book available today?

    Easy to read

    Doesn’t bury the reader in obscure science, but summarizes the relevant science into just what you need to know

    Complete. Tells you what vaccines are. The money behind them. Discusses each individual vaccine, risks and dangers

    Just long enough. Saves you time. Many parents make their informed decision relying on this book, and its references.

    Up to date, with abundant references for those who wish to go deeper into the best research

How much do you really know about what you’re allowing to be injected into your child: the ingredients of vaccines; vaccine side effects, the dangers of vaccines, autism and vaccines, HPV vaccine. This book is for parents, educators, those in the medical profession, midwives, nurses, those working in government and practitioners of alternative medicine as well – a rare vaccination book that is meticulously documented, and is not the usual parroting of special interest narratives.

Easy to read — not the med-speak found in medical journals and everyday media.

Vaccination Is Not Immunization is 200 pages of fully documented information along with over 300 references that will open your eyes. Whether or not to vaccinate your child is arguably the most important decision you will ever make for your child. The nervous system only forms once, and most of it happens before age 2.

Just look at kids around you. Who are the healthiest – the vaccinated or the unvaccinated?

Since there are so many doctors who don’t vaccinate their own kids, and serious questions about vaccines from some of our most educated people, perhaps it isn’t such a good idea to get all your information from advertising, or from the people selling them.

Let’s look at what the scientists who make the vaccines have to say. Only then will you have what you need to make an informed decision about how to best care for your child.

So if you’re having the slightest doubts about the safety of the vaccines you’re about to give your child, get the facts, from the most reliable vaccine book available today.

Doesn’t your child deserve that much?

When a child becomes autistic or vaccine injured, most parents realize their bad decision too late. And that’s when they all say the same thing: “I wish I’d known.”

Well, this is your chance to know, right now.

To Order