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he liked having her around for the scenery. We became quite friendly during the next few
days of my working there, much to Bernard's annoyance. It became apparent that Bernard
was more than just friendly with his staff; there was definitely a lot of feely touchy going
on behind the lines. It came as no surprise to me that he would spend some nights ashore.
After I had made these bracelets, I would take them with me to Dick Smith's restaurant and
bar, where I would attempt to sell some to the tourists. I believe the owner turned a blind
eye, as I was discreet about it. Legend had it that he, Dick Smith from Australia, had been
a poor yachty himself before he discovered this idyllic getaway and had somehow built-up
his successful burra venture. Bernard's store sold a few of the bracelets as well, and soon
waiters from the burra would come across to where Gavin and I would be lounging next to
the pool and inform us that they had another customer for a bracelet. I gave them a cut as
well to make it worth their while.
On some nights we ventured over to the other exclusive tourist hotel, The Plantation. It was
unnaturally opulent and did not have that local laid-back feel as did the burras. Still, we met
some fun people there on occasion and even managed to take a couple out on a lucrative
charter. I did not like using my home as a charter boat, but we were very low on funds and
I accepted any chance ways of making a little extra money.
This particular charter began in an acutely embarrassing way. On our way out of the chan-
nel, my engine packed up. I couldn't believe it! “Murphy's law!” I yelled, trying to sound
unphased by the whole thing. I suspected the fuel line got clogged, and we could not start
it again. Fortunately for me it was a very mild day, and I jumped into the dinghy, rowed
around to the front of Déjà vu, and had Gavin throw me a bowline. This I now attached to
a yoke on the back of the dinghy and I rowed us through that channel, albeit rather slowly.
The young couple on-board thought this was “way cool” and clicked away excitedly with
their camera.
There were a couple of snide comments from the crew of a yacht that was motoring into
the channel. I smiled at them self-consciously; what else could I do? While we were sailing
around the calm bay, I took the opportunity to go below and see to the blocked fuel line.
There were cheers when the engine kicked into life soon afterward, and the cold beer we
slurped on the way back through the channel later that afternoon never tasted better!
Apart from the bracelets I made, I began to draw boats. I found an old book on scrimshaw
and copied some of these classic old schooners and frigates. I found I loved drawing boats
and really got into the world of art as much as I could, bobbing on a little boat on some
remote Fijian island hurricane hole. Gavin spent a lot of his time fishing and diving. He
would arrive back after hours away and throw up his spoils into the cockpit. Sometimes it
was a nice fish he had speared or some shells he would add to his collection.
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