Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
As the afternoon wore on into the evening, I was shocked to see Paula remove her swimsuit
and quickly dive naked over the side. Climbing up the ladder at the stern, she smiled, toss-
ing her wet hair in a spray around her and giggled, “Don't think you are the only one that's
broadminded around here!”
She took the towel I offered her and, after drying off her lithe brown body, sat down oppos-
ite me in the cockpit. Looking about her, she reached over and pressed her mouth against
mine for a wet, lingering kiss.
“Oh my God, Paula, you are a little devil! Come down below and see what I have for you.”
“Why don't you show me what it is right here, Mr. International?”
“Seriously, right here?”
“Why not, it's getting pretty dark. What can anyone actually see?”
About a week later, after exploring Martinique, we decided to sail to the neighboring island
of Guadeloupe. The island in our sights was only one hundred miles west, and, the weath-
er being so perfect, I decided to ignore the usual protocol of hauling the dinghy up on top
of the deck. We arrived around mid morning the following day and dropped anchor in a
sweet, small, and very picturesque bay. There were old wooden buildings and houses dot-
ted around the beachfront, and the local inhabitants appeared friendly and quite used to vis-
itors arriving from the ocean.
A large wooden carcass of a trading boat stood prominently on the beach awaiting com-
pletion. Judging by her silvering, weathered wood she had been long in the making, and I
wondered if she would ever see the ocean beneath her crude keel.
We both clambered into the dinghy, glided it to shore, and walked up the hill toward the
likeliest looking customs house in order to clear in. An old native had knowingly waved us
in the right direction. When it was evident to the fat, perspiring official that Déjà vu and her
crew were from South Africa, his demeanor changed for the worse. His voice became cold
and raised a few decibels. He babbled something in French, and Paula tried to smooth out
a problem on one of the forms I had attempted to fill out. There was apparently some dis-
crepancy regarding how much money we were being charged to stay for three days. When
I voiced my displeasure at the figure and said we would only stay for one day, the official
started yelling at me in French. Wiping away some of the official's spittle from my face, I
said to Paula, “Tell him we are only going to stay one day, and we are only going to pay for
one day.”
Paula did as I bid, and the official slammed his meaty fist on the counter. He was almost
foaming at the mouth now, and Paula and I drew back in alarm. He shouted something to
