Caribbean time

I'd arranged to have L pick me up before 9 this morning so we could get going on this fishing trip with his older English friend... however, it seemed our drinking session the previous night had knocked his own old bones for 6, and he ended up being about 1.5 hours late.

All was good for me, though, as I got to do my washing (sans electrocution this time) and turn my lovely white sheet into a nice peach colour (who knew cold water could do that - hope the boss' don't notice when I give the sheets back). Fed the dogs too... well, put the food out, but not much of it was touched, which is weird since the other dog Polly didn't seem hungry either and when L finally arrived he said his dog wasn't eating much either. Maybe there's some kind of weird moon at the moment.

It was a classic "Caribbean time" day today. What was planned as a fishing trip in the morning for a couple of hours turned out to be a day-long adventure that actually did not involve catching any fish - in fact, there was not a spot of fishing done all day. Unless you count the time we cast out a couple of trawling lines and got cut off by some coast guard type, who ruined one of our lines before telling us the area was a reserve.

But it was still a fun day. P, a tall, slightly eccentric 60-year-old English ex-pat who now lives on St Maarten in a waterfront (as in the water is his front yard) apartment with 2 black bodyguards as he has epilepsy. It took me almost all day but I finally realised that he bears an uncanny resemblance to Bricktop (I think that's his name??), the top mob boss in Snatch. His accent and articulate speaking style is exactly the same, and the drunker he got the more convoluted the words became. Half the time I was struggled to understand his meaning but just making do with my assumption. Even found I starting talking like him by the end of the day!

He has a small speedboat that has been sitting there unused for about a year, and L recently approached him to make a smalltime business out of it, taking tourists on island trips. The trip we did today was to see the condition of the boat (not great) and what they needed to renovate before applying for insurance and making it legit.

Before we got going, we sat around... went to the bakery, then took the boat to the boat shop for some fishing equipment. Another funny Caribbean story actually.... I was waiting for guys by the boat, which they'd parked in a fuel stop, and when the attendant finally came he said they couldn't park there cos it was a gas station, so I said they wanted to fuel.

Then a couple of locals came up in a dinghy and the guy says to them there's no gas, basically because he wanted to eat his lunch and couldn't be fucked to help them. Not that he was that busy the other 23 hours of the day. Made up some story that the gas had run out and the guys drove off, pissed that he couldn't do his job. Then my mates came back and voila! There was gas! Wow. What a lazy ass.

Once we were out of the open sea, beers in the cooler and rods at the ready, we toured around the island thinking of places to fish or swim, and found ourselves roaring at a speed that ate the petrol. So off to another fuel stop on the French side. P kicked up his drinking by pouring a (huge) shot of rum into the coconut he was drinking and off we went.

Then we got off at Grand Casse, also on the French side, for late lunch. All courtesy of P, a generous soul, we ate ribs, chicken, stuffed crab and an array of vegetables. All in a market setting so not all that glamorous, and certainly not the best food I'd had, but P was in his element, proclaiming everything as "splendid", "magnificent" and "perfection". Well, it filled my belly, at the very least!

Then it was off for more boating to various spots, finally casting the line out to trawl in - would you believe it - a reserve! Before we knew it, a boat comes along close and - ignoring our waving, "We've got a line, we've got a line!!!" they cut it right off. Assholes! Then they drove up alongside us and told us it was a reserve. Oops. Sorry. Our bad.

A moment passed and we were distracted. Just like the whole day before us, we were like children - something shiny comes along and we're off. This time it was the sunset. And man, was it a good'un. We rounded the corner just as it was setting and, trying to be stealth since we didn't have any nighttime navigation lights, rounded around the bend back into Simpson Bay. Not before getting some stellar photos. What a view.

Back at P's house, we had some beers and then P disappeared... seems he'd had his fill and was passed out. It was one of those situations where you're at someone's house who'd facilitated an awesome day and it was the end. The curtain call. So L and I moved on, of course via the icecream place... I had a craving. Man, that shit is gooooood.

They want me to help out when I can on board if they ever get the business up n running... I said for sure, probably at night if you do sunset cruises, but I doubt I'll stay here long enuf for them to get so established. Is nice, though, to have a contact with a boat... Makes me want to take Erm out on some special trip including the key ingredients of beer, fishing, water and sun. Ahhhh, yeah.......