Well, it's been a long time since I've communicated and I miss all of you. My silence certainly hasn't been because I felt like ignoring all my homies. Our e-mail system was down on its luck. It's definitely in control of us and we are at its sweet mercy. We bought a new cable a few days ago, which now seems to get us into the system. But that isn't the end of the story. We are having a hard time finding a signal on which to send our messages and Steve is famous for sitting in front of our laptop trying various ones, often to no avail. Once we eventually get a signal on which to transmit, and our message is written, you can't imagine the steps involved to send a short note. At home I just press "send" and off it goes, but when we send a message over radio waves it's a process. I'm really not complaining, just explaining. Once I get the hang of all the steps, I'll be proud of my success and think this system is cool.
We are enjoying this lifestyle. It's definitely not for the faint of heart or anyone not of a flexible nature. I may be wrong about the flexible part. Because we have so few demands on us, it's easy to be flexible and it would be for you, too. To make this easy for me, I'm going to give you some highlights or factoids from the past three weeks in the Virgin Islands via bullet points.
*Every day the weather is sunny and hot. Sunscreen on my butterfly tattoo and my ageless face is a must. Sweat is a given and a nice hankie in my purse would be ideal. Since I seldom carry a purse, that isn't an option while out and about. Here on the boat I just let it bead and bead.
*Steve and I beat the heat by jumping in the ocean, sitting on the deck not in the sun, or we turn on the AC. It is impossible to not tan or burn, depending on skin type. We are outside almost all day. Soon I will look like a balled-up bag from Kowalski's. One day I thought I had hurt my ear from jumping off the bow of the boat. It was about twice the size of my other ear and red, red, red. It stayed that way for days and I finally realized once it started to peel that it was due to the enemy, sunburn. After only being here 5 days, I met a college student from the Islands and she asked me what race I am. She guessed I might be East Indian. I noticed in the grocery store yesterday that I was darker than the woman of mixed race bagging my groceries. For the women out there, I haven't worn makeup at all since I got here and no hot appliance has touched my hair. I wear it up for every occasion. I haven't worn my hair in an updo since I was twelve.
*Steve is a pro at navigation and operating the sails. Anchoring needs more practice. When we're on the hook he worries a lot about dragging, especially into someone else's boat. We sometimes take a lot of time to get the anchor established and may even go to another spot/s in the same bay to find a better hold.
*The first time we had to snag a mooring ball was a fiasco. In certain bays, nice little round buoy-type of things are set up for boats to tie-up to. Steve had only done this once before and "says" the line on that ball was so short he had to grab the ball from the loop on the top that holds the rope onto the ball. I think he was prevaricating. Therefore, since the rope was underwater and we couldn't tell if it was short or not I followed the expert's instructions. That is not how you spear a mooring ball. You grab the rope. To explain the process further, when preparing to grab the ball, I stand on the bow of the boat with a long metal stick in my hands that has a small hook on the end of it. Steve slowly aims the boat to left of the ball while I give him hand signals on what to do with Gustie as we're nearing the ball. When the time is right, I lean over the side of the boat and reach out as far as I can to grab it. That very first time, grabbing the rubber loop firmly attached to the top of the ball, then firmly attached my hook (remember it's on a long, long stick) to the top of the ball. Steve ran like a deer from the helm to help me grab the stick. In the ensuing moments the stick and the ball floated away from us as the boat's momentum took us somewhere else. Fortunately, the stick stayed in the ball and didn't go under the water permanently. So, we anchored Gustie, which is no mean trick, and Steve raced to the dinghy, quickly started the motor and sidled over to the ball that captured my now bent hook and released it from the ball's mighty grip. To finish this debacle, when Steve returned to Gustie's stern in the dinghy, he, of course, tied up the dinghy and came aboard. As we were looking at each other with relief, his face did something funny. Simultaneously, we noticed that the tied-up dinghy still had its motor running! Yes, losing the stick in the ball wasn't enough embarrassment. At that point we laughed our fool heads off. One of those rich belly laughs that couldn't possibly be contained and can be bidden later by even the faintest memory of the incident. Moments like this are rich!
*We have really enjoyed snorkeling. The first week we were here, we found an absolutely gorgeous bay full of turquoise surf and the usual white sand. All the water here is turquoise but this water was especially enticing because of the fat surf rushing against the little, teeny island. After waiting around for an hour to make sure our anchor was set, we geared up in our snorkels and fins and for the first time, I wore my 007-like full-body wet suit. I felt so sleek and glamorous. We jumped from Gustie and in no time were very far from her stern. I mean very far. We were snorkeling in a very strong current. While in the water we made a quick decision. Steve, a strong swimmer, would swim to the boat and I would make for land, which was closer. Then the plan was for Steve to rescue me in the dinghy. I am in this very wet, heavy wet suit. The current is so strong. I couldn't snorkel to shore or do my famous and very strong backstroke as I would lose sight of land. So I did my wimpy sidestroke (the crawl requires me to put my face underwater, ugh!) and after literally thinking I might not make it, eventually reached the sand. I had to keep telling myself I could muscle the current and I would not drown. Well, after I quickly took off my gear (I left on my wet suit because I look like a seal in it), I stood on the edge of the sand and watched Steve make almost no progress as he pressed against the current to reach Gustie. He looked like a mooring ball just bobbing up and down but going nowhere. Due to my prayers and swear words, Steve finally reached Gustie safely. He then retrieved a beer from the fridge (it was morning, but who cares) to reach me in the dingy. Remember that pretty surf? Well, Steve rode right into it to land the dingy. The water was so rough we flailed about trying to get the dingy onto shore. So much flailing went on that the dinghy flew into me, pinning my foot and eventually the rough water flew me right into the dingy. I laid there like a beached whale waiting for the pain in my foot to go away. One need not wait forever, pain or no pain, one must move the dingy to shore. The distraction of pulling the dinghy saved me from excruciating pain. Two weeks later and I have two great scabs and a still swollen toe to remind me of our adventure. Really it wasn't too bad. I feel good about surviving.
*I just had my nightly gin & tonic. I must make dinner soon. We take turns making dinner but mostly it's my turn. Tonight we are having grilled lamb. Meat, excluding beef, is a good buy. Veggies are also priced as at home. Everything else may be about 30-40 % more expensive. Cigarettes and booze are cheap; an alcoholic’s dream location. We shop often as we buy what we can wherever we are. Not everything is available as it is in the U.S. We like that. The foods are often from foreign ports, which makes them extra fun to taste.
Okay, now I really have to go. Stay tuned to my next boozy description about life as a semi-expat. I really sometimes think of all of you. Really I do. Sure.
Some asides: Thanks Tom S. We enjoy what you send! Beck and Steve, give Addy-girl(Gumbo) big smooches for us. Danielle, Nate and Nathan, we'll see you aboard Gustie in eight days! Sun glasses and sun screen plus a great attitude is all you need to relax. A little liquor is also nice! All of you who send us notes, as soon as my "send" skills are up to par, I'll send you a message. Thanks for yours!
Love, love, love, L.
