1995

THE PROS AND CONS OF HITCHIKERS

So it ’95 and I’m still in Hog Is, Grenada, it truly is a great anchorage a very relaxed place to spend a mth or so. Hurricane Louis has truly devastated St Marteen, there are reports of as many as 1,000 boats damaged, people were saying there may be as many as 350 on the bottom of the lagoon. Each morning I listen to my friend Gary on Driac, one of the few boats that survived relatively unscathed, read the butchers bill of boats being found damaged as the salvage team sorts through the beached boats, some stacked/crushed 6 deep, he does his best to keep track and describe the damage and whether or not the people had been located. It’s a huge job and after a week or so he starts taking requests for “health and welfare” and doing his best to answer, I heard too many of my friends boat names and knew I’d never see them again, they’d lost everything and wouldn’t be returning. At the time my old Yaesu ham radio had decided to stop transmitting, but it received fine. It was an odd feeling when I heard somebody make a H & W for George on Thalia. Gary just chuckled and said “Don’t know where he is but he’s smarter than we are, he left to go down island in July.” The lists just went on and on…

The elbow attacked by my Windbugger (see Eulogy for David) was healing nicely and one day the ladies from 2 different boats and I went into Georgetown to do some grocery shopping, we took my nesting dinghy as it will hold a lot of stuff. When we got back to the old Mooring base we were talking about a quick beer, well at least I was, it was hot. I couldn’t stop from noticing an attractive lady sitting by herself reading a book, Mandy took her beer over and said” Hi Ulla, can we join you?’ We all got introduced and I went and got another beer for Ulla and we all started chatting. Turns out Ulla had joined a small, 28’, Aussie boat in Greece and bailed on the guy in Trinidad, being at loose ends and a nurse, she’d come to Grenada thinking maybe she could get on the medical staff of a cruise ship, but of course that’s not where the employment office is, but she knew she couldn’t continue living with the construction crew that were building a custom home, actually I knew them from last year, they’re a bunch of animals, but they do good work. Ulla was witty, well spoken with a delightful Danish accent and I believe I said attractive. I’ve been told its bad form to drool and I was being good. After an hour and a few more beers slid by the ladies pointed out that our frozen stuff would thaw, so I said “Ulla if you have no plans tonight there’s a party on my boat if you’d like to come.” “Sure” she said eith a smile, great smile too. There were no plans but of course Mandy, bless her heart, said “George we’re always partying on your boat, tonight it’s on ours.” God, I hope I did something nice for that woman. “See you both about 1830.” I delivered my lady friends to their boats and Ulla went to Thalia were we chatted and had a couple of boat drinks. The party was a blast, typical cruiser BYOB, pot luck, but good people and lots of laughter. We got back to Thalia about 0130 and I offered to drive Ulla back to shore, she just laughed at me and climbed into bed, mine thank God. I woke up at 1st light and stroked her hair until she woke up and offered her coffee in bed. “If you bring me coffee in bed you’ll never get rid of me.” “Yeah, tough deal” I thought to myself. A couple of hours later sucking up more coffee I asked her if she’d ever made it to Tobago? “No, but I hear it’s very beautiful.” “Oh, it’s all of that, it’s my favorite island so far in the eastern Caribbean. I planning to go soon. Would you like to come?” I asked, remember no drooling. “I need to think about it.” She replied. “Ok, let’s go.” She said 30 sec later. Guess my anti-drool efforts were paying off.

Now I’m not sure how much you know about taking folks to different countries, as master of your vessel you are responsible for your crew. I knew 2 singlehanders that had taken the lady of their dreams into a different country only to have them thank them and demand to be repatriated, sent home. That can be expensive, if you refuse all they have to do is go to Customs/Immigration and make the same demand, they’ll get a ticket home, but they’ll seize your boat until you pay for it. So bearing this in mind I knew that I could be at risk, but when you’re thinking with the little head… We set off 3 days later with the wind blowing 15 from the SE which made it a beat, but Thalia has always been a good upwind boat, even if she’s not too uncomfortable, serious heel angles. We were about half way there when Ulla asked “What are we going to do about money?” “Well, I have some.” Was my reply, thinking “Oh no, please God don’t let it happen, I really like this lady.” “Yeah, so do I how do we handle it?” she asked deadly serious. “Well, we both eat and drink the same things. Why don’t we just throw it in a communal pot and spend it as we need to.” “Ok, I’ll put in the 1st 1,000.” “Ah, what currency?” I asked “Dollars of course” she said “Cool” I replied thinking “Dodged that bullet” Tobago was all I’d promised and Ulla all I’d ever hoped for, we hung out in Man of War Bay and gorged on ourselves on curried goat roti at a little bar, in fact we were half way through getting the owners recipe for goat roti, which was to die for, when the TV announced OJ’s acquittal, never did get the rest of recipe, the island was in full party mode. Ulla and I were getting along really well, I’d been singlehanding for 3 yrs, it’s ok, but having someone you like along is better, a lot better. Three weeks prior for the 2nd time in my experience an aging singlehander had been discovered dead on his boa when the boats anchored downwind smelled him. Please God, don’t let me die like that alone and unloved.

From there we went to Trinidad and caught up with friends and on to Venezuela. In isla Margerita we found that there was an international incident when the directors of 4 banks fled to Miami with the funds of the banks, extradition was denied as they already had citizenship and the Bolivar was in freefall, they couldn’t adjust prices fast enough. We bought a brand new 9x’ Caribe Rib for about $750 at Vemasco, never even unwrapped it and sailed it to St Marteen, stuck it in Necol’s loft and put up a notice asking $1500 for a new 9x’ Caribe. The 1st guy to come along asked to see it, I took him up to the dim loft and he wanted to inflate it. “Sure, show me the money first?” I asked “Why, I just want to see it inflated.” He argued. “Take a really good look at the shrinkwrap.” I urged “Holy s**t, it’s never even been unwrapped the plastic says Caribe.” He said in amazement “Right, it’s a virgin, never been inflated, never seen water.” I continued “What about the warranty?” he asked “I didn’t let them put in a boat name, it’s blank just put in yours?” I explained “Will you take $1450?” “Sure”

I felt a little guilty about taking advantage of the Venezuelans miserable, although it was not nearly as dire as it is now. Plus my conscience was salved when I found out that my buddy Norm went direct to the factory and bought 4 10’s and sailed them up to the Bahamas and sold them for a small blind fortune. Ulla and I enjoyed our work gig in St Marteen, Necol still existed and my future as part of a cruising couple seemed assured. George and Thalia

“If I’m lyin’…”