Just by coincidence the night before, while I was cooking, I played
the CD of the storyteller Donald Davis: “All about aunt Laura, and the crack of
dawn”. I know hearing the crack of dawn was a gift his aunt
left him when she died, but we literally woke up with the sound of a big crack!!!
That very first morning in
Bequia. It was like a hammer, a giant one, right on the head. I
jumped up scared to death, Jim ran “butt naked” and in less than 3
seconds he was up in the bow of the boat pushing off this 80 foot long Catamaran that broke loose from one of African's moorings about 500 feet
away, drifted and hit us on the bow-pulpit,
smashing it so it looked like a pretzel.
I ran after Jim with
his bathing suit in my hand, knowing he'll need it, and watched that
incident (not quite awake yet) like a surrealistic movie. “What
happened? What has just happened?” I kept asking. Next thing I
realized was that we had also broken loose off our mooring, but Jim
jumped into the cockpit, grabbed the steering wheel, started the engine and got us away from the drifting catamaran. In the meanwhile, the big catamaran; that had the line of our
mooring wrapped around one of it propellers and both rudders; couldn't steer.
It was spinning around and around and hitting other boats: 2 forty
foot charter catamarans and a 42 mono-hull. This “boat eating monster” got his second propeller caught in the mooring of the last catamaran, parting the line and towing it away like a toy.
We follow the boat
until he was anchored in the other side of Admiralty Bay. African was
out on his boat within 5 minutes, nicely dressed with his big gold
chain around his fat neck. “I'm the man!” he seemed to say. He
talk to us. “Don't worry, I talk to him, he'll pay, let me get you
back on your mooring”. And in less 20 minutes he had all
the damaged boats back on his moorings.
Not too long after that, the owner of the catamaran comes over in his dinghy, takes pictures of all the
damages, gives his contact information and offers his apologies. “It
seemed so easy”, he said, “the boat boy just handed me the line... it
seemed so easy, that was stupid of me. My boat was much too big to be on a small mooring. I'll pay for everything”.
And for sure, Jim got an estimated from the "fix-it man", the only
stainless steel shop on the island; gave the Swiss man his bank
account information and in two days he had wire transferred the money . And I wrote this little song:
Old man, nice Swiss
gentleman,
sent to England his
crew and captain,
thinking “this
week-end is just for fun”
took his 80 foot boat to the
Windward,
and
gave Salty Shores a Crack of dawn.
Jim will be talking
about this story forever.
AnechyNotes