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Gavin didn't say much and sneaked a look at me every now and again, muttering, “Jesus
Christ” under his breath.
I went below to retrieve a hat to keep the sun off me, made sure I had more antiseptic on
my head, and tried to forget the whole ordeal. In time, the bumps did calm down, but not
for many months would I go anywhere without my woolen snow cap pulled over my head.
A few days later we cleared into Tortola and were given a tourist visa for few days. We
wandered about town and came across a marine antiquities store. They had a marvelous
collection of fascinating old ship models, some of them in bottles. There were old anchors,
charts, monoculars, even an authentic wooden leg! (No, there were no stuffed parrots as far
as we could see.)
They sold rum and had some extremely strong English navy rum that was rationed out to
the sailors in days gone by. We bought a bottle of this Pusser's Rum and returned to Déjà
vu and had a hearty, late breakfast of canned sausages, fried bananas, and fried eggs on
toast that we made on a little, steel grill plate that had tiny holes through it. We had a dram
of Pusser's Rum later that evening; it was nectar.
We decided to sail over to some of the outer islands and hauled up anchor, raised the sails,
and headed for Necker Island. Both Gavin and I were very keen spear fisherman and, when
we had secured the anchor, we donned our wetsuits, weight belts, flippers, and snorkels
and, armed with our guns, splashed into the welcome, blue water. We spent a very pleas-
ant hour underwater, chasing after the shy grouper fish that hid under the numerous choral
heads. We did manage to shoot a few, and I gutted them for dinner.
The following day we were about to take off when I discovered the engine wouldn't start.
“Oh Christ! Here we go,” I swore. I went down below and removed the companionway
steps, noticing that there was a lot of dirty, oily water in the engine's bilge. Looking around
I discovered the problem: the battery cable had loosened itself from the starter motor. I
dipped my arm up to my elbow in greasy bilge water and rummaged about on the bottom
for the nut that had worked its way loose. I soon had it on the motor, tightly cinched up
with a spring washer and was able to start the engine.
While motoring past Gun Creek, we came upon a small island that had a little dock next to
it. On impulse, we decided to stop there and explore. No sooner had we pulled up along-
side and were about to tie up when a very irate man came puffing down the hill waving
wildly at us. “Hey! You can't tie up there! Who gave you permission to use this dock? This
is private property, move your scruffy little boat away from here!”
We were shocked at his attitude. Couldn't he see that we were harmless visitors, perhaps
a bit lost but still, meaning no harm? But when he insulted my boat I lost my temper. “So
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