At around 6:15 AM the next morning, there was a knock on the door.  It was Shmeeber and the limo taking us to the airport.  Notwithstanding the sub-zero temperature outside, Rob was wearing a light summer shirt, shorts and sandals.  As instructed, Silvia and I were similarly dressed and raring to go.

The flight to Barbados was painless.  As you stepped off the plane onto the tarmac, you immediately realize that time was moving much slower and so were the people. It was almost as if someone had pressed the slow motion button on your VCR.  At that instant, I realized that leaving my watch at home on the kitchen counter was absolutely the right choice.  The Barbados sky was perfect, the weather balmy, and the Mount Gay rum was only $8 a bottle.  The decompression process had already begun and it felt great.  Silvia looked at me with a cautious, almost tired expression that could only mean “this is great, let’s stay in Barbados”.  She then asked, “Are we there yet?” My response, “Not yet, but soon, very soon”.

Our team leader and skipper Rob led us through the Barbados airport.  We checked our bags with LIAT airlines for our connecting flight to St. Vincent and for reasons unknown at the time, we left the airport.  Our fearless leader decided we needed to relax and unwind until our connecting flight departure.  The most perfect way to do this was to walk across the parking lot towards a small but famous tin shack simply known as Frankies.  For two hours we sat with the locals, drank with the locals, and danced with the locals.  We ate fried flying fish, listened to the locals sing island music and thoroughly enjoyed the smiling faces and flowing Mount Gay. This turned out to be just one of many great tactical calls that Rob would make throughout the trip.  Our decompression continued.

Pit stop at Frankies

After only a 40-minute flight to the island of St. Vincent, you can begin to enjoy the fact there are no more planes and no more deadlines to adhere to.  We were met at the airport by Rob’s somewhat infamous friend, Phyllis.  With a warm, welcoming smile, she drove us to where Rob anchors his floating Winnebago, the Blue Lagoon Marina.  We unloaded our bags from the car and walked around to the back balcony of the Marina house.  Immediately, our host Seth took one look at us and said “you’ll load up the boat tomorrow, you people need Rummers”.  Rob’s tired face began to host a smile.  He turned to us and without a single word, we lined up at the bar.  Several Rummers were prepared by the bartender along with a document we now understand to have been a “waiver form”.  Apparently these Rummers are somewhat lethal.  Everyone signed the waiver (I signed my brother-in-law’s name because you never want to sign away potential legal rights especially, in the islands) and we began to drink.