Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Tam and Steve had purchased a lovely big steel boat, “Wanderer IV,” from a well known
cruising couple, Eric and Susan, who had owned five world cruising yachts over the space
of some forty years. This particular boat was number four, and Tam and Steve were very
proud of this well-appointed, Dutch built craft. To his credit, Steve had kept the boat im-
maculate, and the previous owners would have been proud of him.
“So tell me, are you enjoying solo sailing?” asked Tam, still with her hand on my knee.
“Well, it's been very challenging but quite lonely. Actually, I don't really mind the loneli-
ness so much. It's a funny thing; I thought that was the one thing that would really bother
me! Standing watch all the time is impossible but very necessary when sailing inter island
like this. I like being alone; it's very different as I have the freedom to do as I please. I can
go about naked if I want, or I can sing or shout or swear, and no one can hear me!”
“I wouldn't like that,” she said, shaking her head. “I would be so afraid something would
go wrong. What would happen if you broke a leg or fell over the side for heaven's sake?”
“That's the thrill of it. There's no turning back, no one to bail you out if the going gets
tough, and the feeling of achievement is that much greater. It promotes a lot of self-confid-
ence in a person. I like it, but I wouldn't want to do it all the time.”
There was suddenly quite a commotion at the pavement side of the bar with people shout-
ing with laughter. I stood up in time to see the curly haired singer extricate himself from
the laps of some highly amused patrons. He had finally careened over the side of the table,
and his guitar had gone flying onto the pavement!
“Why am I so surprised that happened?” I said cynically to Tam.
“I guess I had better be getting back to the boat, Jonathan. I don't suppose you could row
me back, could you?” It appeared that Tam's two accomplices had found a pair of young
lady friends and had disappeared.
“Sure, I have not quite got over my yacht lag and need to catch up on some sleep myself,”
I replied.
We rowed back through the dark, liquid water. The sounds and smells of St. Maarten in
the evening surrounded us, wafting out from the bars, restaurants, and hotels; we were sur-
prised at how far the sound carried.
“I don't suppose you have a nightcap of anything?” she asked, peeking at me under her
bushy, blonde hair.
“Um, let's see now, what do I have? I think I have some whiskey; would you care for a wee
dram?”
