(I wish my first command had looked this good!)
It
was November, 1968 and I was in St. Thomas USVI and after a few weeks
sleeping on the deck of the Tontine II, a 76 foot John Alden
schooner, drinking cheap Heinekens at Fearless Freds while my laundry
rolled along behind the bar, I was ready for a change of scenery.
This big Australian sitting next to me was telling me his plans to
sail to South America with his wife and hinting that I should join
them. Sounded good to me and better than staying on land for even
one more day.
We
drained our beers, checked the laundry, and then walked over to his
boat to meet his wife and check it out. Hmmmmm. Not much of a boat.
26 foot long and it looks homemade. I took a few pictures later but
now I can't find them. Too bad. She was ugly but she was going to be
my first “command”.
I
met the wife. What can I say? Honestly, she was a beast. Short,
fat, curly black hair, frumpy in an irritating aunt-type way. Bad
teeth, poorly capped and a suspicious, probing and disapproving look.
However, she liked me and we sat down in the cramped cockpit to
discuss their plans and how I might fit in. Our knees touched and
despite my homeless/boatless status, I was embarassed to even be
aboard this thing.
The
Australian (I have forgotten his name now but he called me “Kid”)
pulled out some lukewarm beers and we started the negotiations. They
wanted me to be the Captain and teach them to sail as we cruised down
the islands to South America. No problem there. How much were they
going to pay me?
“Well,
actually Kid, we sort of thought you could kick in $5 bucks a day for
food and we could see how things go from there..” .(this attractive
offer was delivered in a strangely familiar, Cary Grant type accent
that cracks me up even today)
“What??!!”
No way. I need money more than I need a job so forget it!”
“Now
wait a minute Kid, me and the missus need your help just to get
started and you're stuck here in Yacht Haven and told me you wanted
to get on down island. Right?...So this way you can join us, help us
out, get some sea-time and jump off at any island down the chain like
Tortola, Anguilla, St. Marten or even wait until we reach Antigua.
What do you say?”
What
COULD I say? It WAS 1968, I had just flunked out of Penn State and
lost my 2-S deferment status and would soon be re-classed “1-A”
and have to go back to the states to serve somewhere. Probably the
Navy but that was somewhere out there in future-land. This was NOW.
“OK.
Lets do it. When do you want to get going?”
“Thats
the way, Kid! Lets drink to a new adventure!”
I
had no idea, nor could ever imagine, that just a few weeks from that
day, after being stranded on the customs dock in Road Town (Sitting
on The Dock – Part 2) , I would be trying to sail a 12 foot dinghy,
with all my gear stuffed under a green canvas tent, from Road Town,
Tortola back to Charlotte Amalie, St Thomas to find another boat!
To
be continued….stopped here at 6:38 am on Sunday, January 17, 2016.
Almost 48 years later. Bummer, I am so freaking old that I can't
believe it! By February 5th I will be back in Tortola,
with my faithful. Long-suffering, still beautiful wife, Nelle, and
her brother Jake, his wife Valerie, and their two amazing kids; Mae &
Bo. We will bareboat a 47 foot Leopard catamaran and, once again,
sail the BVI. The adventures continue!
Tom
Crowley, Man of Action!
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