Day To Day

We've written about our more memorable explorations and experiences, but not so much about our routine days at port.  Like everyone else, we need to find groceries, do laundry, run errands, exercise, maintain our "home," find entertainment and relax, but while cruising these mundane chores can be a challenge and delight. 

We don't rise with the sun like many cruisers.  We enjoy sleeping in and relish the frequent early morning showers when rain softly pitters against the plexiglass hatch above our heads, the boat gently rocks and and we snuggle contentedly in our king-size master berth.  We don't have a king-size bed at home, nor do we have 2 bathrooms (heads), so Act III is quite luxurious by comparision. (and remember: 2 heads are better than...  )  At home we started the day with one or more cups of fancy cappucino from our espresso machine, but now we're satisfied with a single cup of French press coffee, and we highly recommend the Friehling stainless-steel French press, which Miles told us about.  It's one of the few things that doesn't show a single bit of rust after a year of daily use.  Sometimes I make home-made pancakes, but more often we pick at fruit or breads and read for a bit while mustering energy to start the day's projects, which often begin with a swim.

In some islands, St. Vincent most frequently, you might not have to leave the boat to do your shopping.   "Boat boys" come to you throughout the day in brightly colored skiffs with outboard engines, proudly named "Alexis the Great", "Dragon Mon" or "God is Truth and Wonder," selling vegetables, fruits, fresh fish or lobster (spiny), t-shirts, breads, or they will deliver anything else you may need, like cases of beer or water.  For the most part they are friendly and cooperative, and their prices reflect the personal service, but some "boys" become aggressive and insulting if you don't need/want their services, which bums you out and puts  you off the anchorage.  This pushiness is also found ashore in the open-air markets, resulting in the officially printed sign in the Bequia marketplace that tells shoppers they have some rights, including "not to be pulled in different directions and having food shoved in their mouths for tasting."  St. Vincent officials are aware that hassling of cruisers can keep money away from the island, so has begun educating and training the locals, who are now officially "Beach Front Sevice Providers." 

Martinique, a much wealthier island, does not not have that sort of "service" but when we hear a conch shell being blown, we know there's fresh fish in town.  To go shopping we first must bail the u sual accumulation of  water out of our transportation, pack our own shopping bags, and make sure we have the right currency for the island:  euros or EC (East Caribbean Dollars = $.37).  We expect to get a little wet on our way to shore, thus we roam around town with damp, salty dinghy-butts--only one of many ways the locals peg us a cruisers (skin color and back packs are others).  We lock our dinghy to the docks, which vary from sturdy concrete with ladders to ramshackle floats of old tires with splintering boards balanced across.

Nothing we've seen compares to the grocery stores we have in the States.  Bahamas and Dominican Republic were the least well-stocked, while Grenada had a bright, modern IGA that actually stocked fresh milk once a week--we mostly drink UHT box milk.  The milk was just down the aisle from the attractively displayed pre-packaged chicken feet--the only product in the poultry section.  We've noticed that most islanders have no aversion to bones in their meat, so the wonderful curried roti (a kind of spicy meat and vegetable wrap) will likely have randomly whacked chicken legs with pieces of bone in--not my personal favorite.  New foods we've enjoyed include dasheen (taro), callaloo (green and leafy, like spinach), various fish we cannot identify or understand the local names of, plantains, and goat.  I did not find the advertised wild, fresh local iguana in Foodland, and I'm not sure how I would have cooked it.   Most of the stores sell clear 1 qt. plastic buckets of what I believe is an animal  product: large chunks of smooth, shiny, red-pink somethings in a purplish bloody liquid.  I don't even want to ask.  (Fact is, we've probably already eaten whatever it is in a local stew, but still...)  The small local store here in Trois Islet, Martinique--like our ubiquitous convenience stores--carries your basic necessities:  fresh baguettes, rum, wine, beer, brie and camembert cheese, soap, candy, pate de foie gras, and clear vacuum-sealed packages of something slippery pink labeled "groins de porc".  Looks like just what it says, and I'm not tempted.  We eat lots of vegetables and I can often find good local chicken. 

It took us about 5 months to find a battery for Bill's watch (yeah, he still wears one, as he needs to time some of his on-board chores, like water-making.)  The Spectra water maker Bill installed in North Carolina last year is a great luxury.  We never have to ration and nothing beats diving off the boat several times a day for a swim in warm Caribbean water, followed by a fresh water rinse on deck, then air-drying in the hammock rigged on the foredeck--no suits or towels involved.  One of our early projects back in the states was to find the correct (non-universal, French) fittings to extend the shower hose in our forward head so it reaches out the portlight to the deck.  At the time it was something like 30 degrees during the day, and we could scarcely imagine how fine it might be someday.  Ahhhhh.  It was worth the many trips to plumbing departments down the east coast.

Sometimes we find a laundry that will fold and dry for a reasonable fee, but normally I do that aboard using a bucket and the sink.  Towels and king-size sheets are the only hassle.  Dishes are washed mostly with the salt-water foot pump, with a fresh water rinse. 

Entertainment is easy, because we don't need much.  One can spend hours just watching the water or other boats in the area, and we read prodigiously, finding many unusual books at free cruiser book-swaps located at cruiser hang-outs, and our Kindle allows us to get anything as long as we have computer or telephone signals available.  When we have internet access we download favorite podcasts like Car Talk or Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me (our major news source), Fresh Air or RadioLab and listen during supper at sundown.  Then we go to bed and...read.

I need to end now so I can post on this trip to town.  We don't have internet access from the boat here, and the local shop with "wee-fee" has uncertain hours. Qnd I need extrq ti,e to figure out the French keyboqrd:

We love and miss you all.