#coronado high

It's a real-life Breaking Bad story, except the ex-teacher taught Spanish and not chemistry, the trade was in marijuana not meth, and the location was Coronado, California, not Albuquerque, New Mexico.

This chart shows the roles assumed by the alumni and one former teacher of Coronado High School in what became The Coronado Company, a well-oiled machine responsible for smuggling tens of millions of dollars worth of high-grade pot across American borders during the '70s and '80s.

The drug-smugglers of the Coronado Company transported massive amounts of marijuana with custom-built barges like this one from Maravia Corporation. Little did the women who built the rafts realize what they would actually be used for.

“Elsewhere in the barn were the new Maravias, 35-foot-long Kevlar barges they had bought for towing the pot back from the mother ship. Dave had them custom made; he told the Maravia sales agent that they would be used to transport cattle across the Rhine. Where Dave came up with that, he didn’t know. It was the kind of cover story that just rolled off his tongue by now, the instinctive cloak-and-dagger of a life built on anonymous P.O. boxes and money orders and answering services and forged identities.”

Read the whole story for free and explore exclusive multimedia artifacts in Coronado High by Joshuah Bearman, an incredible true story about California surfers who became drug kingpins. Sponsored by warbyparker.

The Atavist is our favorite source for original longform journalism. This month they feature "Coronado High", an epic (and true!) tale of California drug smugglers during an era of free love and Volkswagon microbuses.

The writer, Joshuah Bearman, unspools an incredible (and worth saying again: true!) story about the criminals who made up a smuggling ring known as The Coronado Company. While reading, we couldn't help but notice how nimbly this gang of rogues calculated their ascent—with special credit to the company's "C.E.O.",  a former high school Spanish teacher named Lou Villar. The more we read, the more Lou seemed like an unlikely encyclopedia of management lessons.

We extracted a few to share.

Style matters After a few successful smuggling jaunts, Lou is quick to refine his image: he cuts his hair, acquires a Ferrari, develops an interest in fine wines, plays tennis at private clubs. He understands the importance of image—that in order to play the part, a man has to look the part.

Precision is everything A good manager never loses sight of the big picture—or, indeed, the small picture. When importing thousands of pounds of marijuana, Lou's deputy sets up an assembly line of workers to weigh, bag, and label the drugs—and Lou personally inspects the goods to ensure that the job is well done.

Maintain an air of mystery Lou is careful to keep his personal history shrouded in obscurity. To those who pry, he simply replies, "I'm in oil, and if you ask any more questions, I'll ask you to leave." Case closed.

Recognize talent—and promote it As the operation expands, Lou is careful to make strong hires. One of these is a local kid named Don, who is recruited for grunt work. After Don distinguishes himself as a talented mechanic, however, he is swiftly brought up through the ranks—and promoted to chief engineer.

"Paranoid" is just another word for "detail-oriented" Under pressure from the DEA, Lou arranges a secret meeting with his lawyer in a San Francisco hotel room. To make sure his attorney is not being followed, Lou watches through binoculars from the hotel's eighth floor—and leads his lawyer through a back entrance just to be safe.

Want more? Of course you do. Read "Coronado High" here for the next month- on us!

Summer's over but you can now read Coronado High for free, thanks to Warby Parker. 

Coronado High: The True Story of the Coronado Company

Before anyone had heard of the Mexican cartels and the Colombian kingpins, there was a group of Cali surfers, friends who discovered weed in the '60s and—in a fit of stoner inspiration—figured out how to smuggle in the best, most potent stuff on earth. Over a decade, they built an empire that made hundreds of millions, while laughing at the war on drugs. Joshuah Bearman, the writer who brought you 'Argo,' tells the whole true story:

The exchange always happens fast. Like in the movies, the money would come in Halliburton briefcases. Unlike in the movies, the Company usually waited to count it.

And count it. And count it. And count it. It took so long to count that much cash, they got bored. The partners each made half a million. For his rescue of the Duck, Don got an MVP award, a new Company institution, which came with a bonus payment of $25,000. Everyone else got their wad and prepared to scatter to the winds—the sweet, distinctive scent of their trade wafting from their clothes and hair.

It was exhilarating, the money and the camaraderie. The Company members saw themselves as hippie outlaws. There was no violence, no guns, just the threat of the law, which bound them together. They were criminals, but they were also a family. Afterward, Lou and Dave sat in his cabana, going through receipts, accounting for a very good year. They hoisted two flutes of champagne. "Here's to everyone's efforts," Lou said. "Let's do it again soon."

Welcome to Coronado, California.