Those Pesky Sails

The fog in my head cleared 5 minutes after the coffee hit my system.  I turned the ignition key on the diesel and watched three other Suspects immediately spring into action, executing the various tasks required in preparation for departure.  This is my way, as skipper, of saying that we are leaving.  That’s about all I do – start the engine, back off the mooring, grab a beer, and then hand the helm over to someone else.

We unfurled the sails and settled in for a relaxing 2-hour broad reach to Canouan.  As we rounded the lee of the island, the wind tapered off, so I exercised my Skipper’s Privilege and reached for the ignition key on the iron jib.  I needed to speed up the process. Approaching the Tobago Cays, it was possible to see bottom clearly in 25 feet of water.   This is always a welcome sight, and is my first cue that I am really getting close to my favorite anchorage.

The Boat Boys were lined up as usual in the cut between Petit Bateau and Petit Rameau, waiting for their next customer.  I couldn’t help but thinking that we were the “catch of the day”.  As expected, one of them followed us until we dropped the hook.  One false move on my part, he would have rendered assistance, and we would be out $10 EC.  Unlucky for his bank account, I have the World’s Greatest Anchor Technician, Tiny, running the bow of my boat.  We never miss.

We dropped the hook in 9 feet of water just off Baradal and drifted back some 70 feet before cutting the engine.  A quick dive on the anchor revealed that all was in perfect order. I surfaced and made the announcement, “the bar is officially open!”  As if the beers we had on the trip down didn’t “officially” happen.

Talk is Cheap

I’m not a big fan of being bothered by Boat Boys every 5 minutes, or being asked to give them something at every turn.  I have gotten to know some of them on previous trips, and some of them are really great guys.  It’s just the sheer number of them that can become a little tiring at times.

I had been working on a Boat Boy Avoidance Strategy (BBAS) all winter and was anxious to try it out.  Basically, I reasoned that if we were going to be hustled for a beer every time one of them approached the boat, we may as well offer it first and gain some goodwill.  Perhaps that offer of friendship would put us in a different category, and we would not be seen as a customer, but as an acquaintance instead.  I was willing to bet that they would not feel comfortable selling to an acquaintance.  Besides, a beer was substantially less expensive than paying $10 US for a necklace or T-shirt you don’t really want.  The cooler was fully charged, and I was confident it had the capacity to take on any anchorage.

I was right.  In no time, Free Willy stopped by to talk about old times.  In two seconds, I had him seated in the cockpit with an ice cold Heineken in hand.  He felt like a million bucks chatting with us.  It did not take more than 5 minutes before he noticed that two other Boat Boys had made a substantial killing selling to nearby cruisers.  Here he was, having a beer with us, while his competitors were out making money, right in front of him.  He quickly downed the last of his suds and headed off.  For the next two days, Free Willy just waved as he cruised by, but he would not approach the boat.  Talk is cheap.  Indeed!

I was feeling pretty darn smart by the time 4 P.M. rolled around.  We had chewed the fat with half a dozen other Boat Boys, not purchased a thing, and the cooler was down only 5 beers.

Rock Lobster

Barbecued lobsters on board are one of the great experiences that you pay a zillion dollars and fly to remote corners of the earth for.  Tobago Cays are certainly the place to enjoy them.  I managed to get three four-pound lobsters for a whole lot of US dollars.  I had to split them in half for barbecuing, so I was not exactly happy with the larger size.  What you have to put up with sometimes…

Splitting them was a real experience,  made more difficult by the lack of industrial-strength knives aboard necessary for cutting the thick shell while the creature was still using it.  I learned from previous blood loss that you have to cut off the spines first, else you will be scarred for life by them.  Lobsters become rather agitated when you stick them in the back with a dull knife.  After that ordeal, holding them over a pot of boiling water and letting gravity do the work may be the way to go.

With a whole lot of engineering, I was successful in placing the lobster halves on the barbecue, but only for a moment.  I had not properly tightened the barbecue down, so under a full load, it started to tilt backward, threatening to dump dinner into the sea.  I managed to save three of the halves, but the fourth did a triple-twisting quad back flip right off the stern.  I’m sure the Canadian Judge would have scored a full 10 points for that dive, had he not been busy diving in after it himself.

With dinner successfully retrieved from the bottom, the barbecue tightened down and restarted, cooking proceeded as originally envisioned.  The garlic butter went on perfectly and the darn things tasted great, despite the chain of events leading up to their consumption.  Next time I will seriously consider having a Boat Boy do the cooking.