The moray eel's house

Sometimes a laundry party starts with the necessity of water. To be more clear: We paid for five hundred litters of water and only had capacity for four. I just needed to empty the tank a little bit more.

I had a bag full of cloth and since I got the plunger or better explained, the breathing mobile washer (BMW), doing laundry by hand is easy and fun. Our friends Christine and Louie were on board and they've never have the experience of a BMW, we decided to celebrate it with rum punch and music, since we were in Les Saintes, Guadeloupe, all French.

My BMW

I filled one third of the 5 gallon bucket, Jim mixed punch, Martinique rum, Angostura bitters, ice and passion fruit rum. We danced and washed. The party started before sun set. The sound of the BMW complimented the variety of rhythms that came from our favourite radio station: Cherie FM. Everybody tried the new toy, that cleans good and uses no electricity and less water. There were more mixes of juices and rum. Our friend Louie was in charge of dumping the water overboard. Christine volunteer to hang the clean cloth on the life lines. By then, the sun light was completely gone and the party was under the flashlights. When the last bucket of dirty water was dumped we were all toasted. The captain had taken the girl's leftovers drinks and dump 'em too. "You'll feel bad tomorrow" he said. But anyway we protested a bit. Alcohol talking.

Next morning we were all ready, headed to the ferry docks, where the water service is. The maneuver was upstanding, Captain and crew did a great job docking against the concrete dock. Nobody got hurt and not scratches to the vessel. But we brag about it too soon, to find out that the water hose wasn't there. The multi-service office takes it off at 18h and puts it back on at 8,30h. It was 6,30h. All disappointed we went back to the mooring and prepared breakfast.

Getting water was a matter of another four hours, the whole morning gone. And it was our friends last day in the paradisaical island.

That afternoon, as I'm getting ready to go on shore I started looking for my pink sport short. I was sure I washed them the night before, but I don't remember picking them up from the lines. I asked everybody, nobody has seen them. I started getting sad, it was the most comfortable piece of cloth I had. There was not clue of them until Louie said, we drank a lot last night. Then it was clear. I didn't check the last bucket of water dumped overboard. Good-by, my pinky shorts!

It is been two weeks since that happen. We've gone to Dominica and back. I dedicate a thought to my pinky hero every time I go for a swim. I already invented all kinds of adventure about his live. Somebody found them on the beach, they went to explore the ship wreak, by this time they most be as far as Guadeloupe, and more.
Last Friday we decided to leave Les Saintes, and go to Marie Galante.  After all the prep we were as tired as if we had sailed the 25 miles. So we looked at each other and determined to stay one more day. No feeling any pressure for the trip we jumped in the water and went for a long swim. We had just jumped in and I see Jim clearing his ears to free dive 20 feed. “It most be another plastic bag”. I thought. Then I scanned the bottom and saw Jim heading straight down where a reddish piece of cloth laid. My heart jumped of emotion. “My pinky!” He grabbed them and started to swim back at the same time he shook them hard and kept them away from his body.

It wasn't until he was in the surface that I saw the moray eel laying inside my shorts and staring at Jim very upset. Finally she swam to the bottom, expropriated of her house.

It took me two days and three different solutions: vinegar, laundry soap and shout; to get the green-yellow algae off. But I'm all happy and today I wear them on.

My pinky

AnechyNotes