I started December as a volunteer at the boat show for mega yachts. The boat show was pretty hectic, but included fun events such as a yacht hop. The boats where all decked out on a theme and it was a festive occasion hopping from one to the other. And of course, I got the opportunity to dress up in black with splash of pink for the gala event. The only thing missing was a handsome gent by my side . . .
On the last morning of the boat show I got a phone call out of the blue. That Christmas charter I had been hoping for suddenly came through, and of course they needed me asap. Very unceremoniously a new era was heralded in my life. Quick goodbye to all and off I went.
Pretty short notice! With a huff and a puff I reached the airport. They where boarding early so I did not even have time to grab the nice lunch I was looking forward to. Once through customs had to proceed to the gate immediately so I grabbed a cinnamon pretzel as that was the stand closest to the gate. Food did not get better over the next few days.
Juliana is obviously a beautiful airport - but the same cannot be said for the smaller Caribbean airports. Off to Antigua for a long wait for the next connection - Grenada. Arrived at around 11pm, found a taxi to take me to a a la cheapy hotel. They did have internet though, and just as well. For in my inbox was an email telling me the boat owner had changed his mind - he wanted to stay in St Lucia a little longer, could I fly there. After a brief rest on a hard and uncomfortable mattress off to the airport again. Managed to get a ticket for the ten thirty flight to St Lucia.
The friendly young South African captain met me at the airport and filled me in on details of the boat and owner during the taxi ride home. At least I got a good look at the beautiful countryside before falling straight into a pretty hectic schedule. I got to bed between midnight and 1 am most nights - someone had to be up to pour the owner his J&B's on ice and empty his ashtray (chain smoker that does not like a dirty ashtray). And of course hollering occasionally: "Can you switch on the TV", or some similar menial task.
A week ago the owner left for ten days - and we have had a breather. We sailed down to Grenada, so am getting another chance at seeing more than just Grenada's airport. We are still busy on the boat, but with a more relaxed atmosphere and more reasonable hours.
A few days ago I was surrounded by a mountain of laundry that needed ironing. Not my favorite task I confess. However our Turkish deck hand put some haunting Turkish music on. Thus my mind could happily travel to distant places while my hands ironed. I remembered crossing the border into Jordan on a cool desert evening - with the haunting prayer calls echoing through the night air. I walked down narrow cobblestone streets in Istanbul, or visited a busy market in Egypt with all its smells and sounds and sights. And in between I looked up and saw the reflections of the sun playing on the water and remembered the beauty of the here and now - despite the pile of laundry. At the end of my workday I sat at the sky bridge writing e-mails and watched a stunning sunset. Several crew members have picked this spot to sit with their laptops, so we have jokingly dubbed the sky bridge the "Internet Cafe".
I actually had a day off the explore the island with some of my crew mates. We where quite a multicultural expedition. An Israeli, a Turk, and naturally myself. Unfortunately the day was rainy and foggy, meaning we missed out on some of the more exotic hikes to waterfalls and rain forests. But for a day, I was a tourist. Just the driving around the island and seeing the lush green hills was a great break from the boat.
In a few hours the owner will be here. I have been preparing their rooms, shining up the brass and all such last minute touches. Naturally the Internet cafe is being dismantled as we all prepare for "owner mode". So - I will continue my tales when he leaves again and the Internet cafe re-opens.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
The silence before the storm . . .
For a long time nothing happened . . .September I went back to my St Maarten life. Life rolled on in its normal tracks. No noteworthy events. October however heralded more unpleasant events. First a nasty sinus infection then hurricane Omar came to disturb our lives.
As I was house sitting for my neighbor I tucked in with her kitties after a hectic day of hurricane preparation. I did not need to do much more than close her and my shutters, collect spare w
ater in containers and do some emergency provisioning. So I spent most of the day helping friends. But by the evening, all hatches battened down, the kitties where huddled as close as possible to me. Lulu decided to curl up on my chest. The rest where in close proximity. I am not sure who got more comfort from whom as the rain lashed against the windows and ominous howling winds relentlessly blew. Darkness naturally added to the sense of doom and gloom. I was very aware of being alone - and thankful for the warm bodies curled up against me. Hurricanes I thought, was no fun to go through alone.
By the early morning hours the sounds became less threatening. At 7 am I peeked outside hesitantly. It seemed much calmer and the rain had stopped so I ventured to the beach. All around me people looked equally dazed. Thundering waves crashed over where the beach used to be. Within hours the sea receded and calmed down - and someone who did not see it earlier would have thought a description of the waves where tall tales. Except for the evidence left. Later, I saw to shipping containers washed straight across the road. And heard the harrowing tale of the mini tornado that passed over the lagoon. A catamaran overturned with a couple in it.
They managed to open a sliding door and swim out. A nearby sailor saw them clinging to the boat and went to rescue them by dinghy. Another catamaran described how a heavy table, chairs, and toolboxes where sucked right out of the cockpit without leaving a scratch on the boat.
However, as we all counted our toes and fingers as an island, we realized that God certainly protected us and spared us. There where no deaths or serious injury. And while there was damage, there was not devastation. We breathed a communal sigh of relief and everybody started cleaning up around them. A few days later it was not even obvious there had been a hurricane.
My life started getting back into its normal rhythms. But a week later I had the tel tale rash and high fever. After the hurricane we had hordes of mosquitoes. I had Dengue fever. Through a night of high fever I truly felt the power of prayers for me from near and far. I recovered remarkably quickly but was left feeling week.
By November my energy returned, and slowly slowly work was picking up again. Once again I was comfortably in my predictable routine. However throughout these months I had the knowledge that major change lay ahead. I had been offered a position on the mega yacht I helped out on, and said yes. My new job was due to start in the New Year, as soon as the boat returned to St Maarten after a major shipyard period. This meant I would be giving up my apartment, moving into a tiny cabin, and a few months later leave St Maarten. So while on the surface it was just mundane life as always, I was slowly preparing for this drastic change. These months where the silence before a new storm of change. Gypsy girl is about to get on the move again . . .
As I was house sitting for my neighbor I tucked in with her kitties after a hectic day of hurricane preparation. I did not need to do much more than close her and my shutters, collect spare w
ater in containers and do some emergency provisioning. So I spent most of the day helping friends. But by the evening, all hatches battened down, the kitties where huddled as close as possible to me. Lulu decided to curl up on my chest. The rest where in close proximity. I am not sure who got more comfort from whom as the rain lashed against the windows and ominous howling winds relentlessly blew. Darkness naturally added to the sense of doom and gloom. I was very aware of being alone - and thankful for the warm bodies curled up against me. Hurricanes I thought, was no fun to go through alone.By the early morning hours the sounds became less threatening. At 7 am I peeked outside hesitantly. It seemed much calmer and the rain had stopped so I ventured to the beach. All around me people looked equally dazed. Thundering waves crashed over where the beach used to be. Within hours the sea receded and calmed down - and someone who did not see it earlier would have thought a description of the waves where tall tales. Except for the evidence left. Later, I saw to shipping containers washed straight across the road. And heard the harrowing tale of the mini tornado that passed over the lagoon. A catamaran overturned with a couple in it.
They managed to open a sliding door and swim out. A nearby sailor saw them clinging to the boat and went to rescue them by dinghy. Another catamaran described how a heavy table, chairs, and toolboxes where sucked right out of the cockpit without leaving a scratch on the boat.
However, as we all counted our toes and fingers as an island, we realized that God certainly protected us and spared us. There where no deaths or serious injury. And while there was damage, there was not devastation. We breathed a communal sigh of relief and everybody started cleaning up around them. A few days later it was not even obvious there had been a hurricane.
My life started getting back into its normal rhythms. But a week later I had the tel tale rash and high fever. After the hurricane we had hordes of mosquitoes. I had Dengue fever. Through a night of high fever I truly felt the power of prayers for me from near and far. I recovered remarkably quickly but was left feeling week.
By November my energy returned, and slowly slowly work was picking up again. Once again I was comfortably in my predictable routine. However throughout these months I had the knowledge that major change lay ahead. I had been offered a position on the mega yacht I helped out on, and said yes. My new job was due to start in the New Year, as soon as the boat returned to St Maarten after a major shipyard period. This meant I would be giving up my apartment, moving into a tiny cabin, and a few months later leave St Maarten. So while on the surface it was just mundane life as always, I was slowly preparing for this drastic change. These months where the silence before a new storm of change. Gypsy girl is about to get on the move again . . .
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