Author's note:
Sean and Sheila finally made it to their island paradise. No one told them to expect perfection, so they were not disappointed. Chicken salad, at $1000 a day, is only part of it.
Chapter 5
0400 Rise and dress
0430 Microwave oatmeal, no egg.
0455 Kiss sleeping wife
0500 Meet Don at boat dock
0500-0930 Fish while Don makes morning rounds
0930-1000 Discipline wife
Sean:
Sheila claims I help her sleep. Something must, because she was out all night. I was not so lucky. I had accepted an offer to go fishing with Don, while he did his morning duties. Dramamine did not help keep me awake. Fortunately, Don traveled with Navy grade coffee. He and Francine would get along.
For a guy with a vintage yacht in his boathouse, I know squat about boats. All I could say about Don's cruiser is that I expected a bigger boat. Rather than a cabin, he had a wide canvas awning. On the tail were a couple of fishing chairs, but we never used them. I helped him stow several five gallon buckets of ice in a hold. On top of the first two buckets, Don threw a couple of large butcherpaper wrapped packages, which we buried in more ice.
After we had pulled away from the dock a few hundred yards, Don cast out two lines and put the poles in holders. These were, he said, for dinner. He was trolling for snapper, mahi and sea bass. He handed me a rod, sporting a shiny artificial lure, and showed me how to cast and "play the spinner" for mackerel. Before I settled into place, Don opened the throttle. The boat was not big, but there was a lot of power in the guts.
Sunrise found me reeling in the line. We had been going for a while, though I could not say how long. As always in the tropics, the sun came up quickly. I stashed the rod in the holder, then went in search of my cap and sunglasses. Don told me not to bother, since we were almost to landfall. I brought in all the lines while he jockeyed us into another little island. This one was smaller. It had only three cabins and, obviously, no on-site manager.
After a few minutes, in which I learned that my standard docking tie was deficient on several points, Don grabbed a tote and a backpack and headed up to the cabins. He suggested that I wait under the canopy. I knew my New Jersey tan was not up to Hawaiian standards, but this was the first open confirmation. I broke out the zinc oxide and slathered it all over.
Don was gone about twenty minutes. None of these timeshare cabins were currently in use. He was touching up on details noted during a previous stop. That intrigued me. As we set up for our next run, Don told me that two of his islands were generally occupied only during peak periods, such as last weekend. This trio was in mothballs for most of the summer, as were four more we would see later.
For the next run, Don did not bother to put his drag lines out. Using this as a cue, I did not bother with the rod with the spinner lure. Sure enough, after ten minutes, we pulled up near a sandy bar in the middle of the ocean. It was small, but looked like Gilligan's island without the lagoon. I helped Don lower an outboard boat.
It was educational. Don collected three coconuts, some wild mango, two or three fruit I could not name and large amounts of bamboo. Some of the canes were as big as my arm. As we cut the bamboo canes, he thanked me for bringing an extra saw, though mostly he used a geared branch lopper. I picked a few canes for Sheila, then helped him with his project. Since I was both guest and part owner, that was a message. Family helps with the chores.
Wrapping all the bamboo in bungee cords took a while. Part way through, Don told me to get out of the sun. Not trusting tree shade, I sat near a tall rock and dangled my feet in the surf. It wasn't long before we towed the bundle out to the boat. Don lifted it with the fish hoist and secured it on the port side. It was ugly, but he did not seem to care. Halfway to the next stop, there was a hit on one of Don's rods.
He had me take the wheel while he dealt with the fish. I steered for several minutes while he pulled in the fish, stunned it, removed the hook, threw it in the cold hold and ran the line out again. I had a surge of pleasure when he said nothing on retaking the helm. Lack of comment means a job done up to standard. From that point on, I spent a lot of time keeping our heading, while Don pulled in his drag lines.
The next stop was much like the first one. This islet had only two cabins, neither occupied. Don did spot checks. Our next run was long and would be to the "grocery store." Even from a distance I could tell this island was much larger and populated.