I went to town to meet prospective guests. The girls from Switzerland were ill and begged off, another didn't make it into town on time.
A part time local gave me a bunch of organic vegetable seeds. I made little envelopes out of squares of paper that evidenced my misspent youth. Locals came by and thought the one gram size envelopes were for illegal purposes. Maybe they were. I doubt it is legal for tourists to bring in seeds.
I had heard much about Mantis, a Thai restaurant way up the hill on another island, Bastimentos. Doug, the seed provider told me that he was to deliver some seeds to Ian, the operator of the restaurant. "Ok, come along." A short while later he invited Zach, a part time local from Alaska. Sure, why not, but he should have asked.
We called ahead for reservations and departed around 5:30. Some guy name Ryan had apparently also been invited by Doug. WTF? Was it the rum starting at 10 or is Doug completely oblivious to protocol? "Where did you come from? I didn't invite you." Doug responded, "I invited him, we have plenty of room." "Did you check with the captain of the boat?" "Hey, Jim, he's a great guy, starting a shrimp farm down here." "Great! Have you ever seen the effluent from a shrimping operation?" "Oh, he is doing it differently."
We headed down the street toward my boat. "How far is it to your boat?" "It's at Chow Kai's." "How far is that?" "Are you fucking kidding me? How many times have you walked down the main street?"
A couple of hundred yards later the three guys and my guest, Dittie boarded the boat. We headed out in rough water. Had I headed directly to my destination the five foot swells would have swamped or flipped the boat, I negotiated an angle of attack and then headed back toward the destination upon reaching the protection of the island from the waters of the open sea. "I think this guy knows these waters." Hell, if you can't see that it was necessary you shouldn't be at the helm.
The primary dock was nothing but a collection of poles. Great! We headed off and found Roots, a bar and docked on the leeward side so the swells wouldn't bang the boat into the dock. After a round of drinks we headed down the sidewalk, there are but two in town and no roads. Ryan and Dittie forget ahead, I turned at the walk that ascended the hill and asked them if they were coming. Slippery, sloping, slimy sidewalks after two weeks of rain four or five times a day. The sidewalk ended we walked up a mud trail to find the walk again. A couple were descending, they had not made reservations and were turned away. We encountered another couple heading to our destination. The sidewalk ended. The trail continued up through mud, sometimes with coconuts bordered with bamboo. I'd rather walk through mud that over the top of muddy, round, ankle twisting coconuts. More mud and slippery steps. We finally made it and were greeted, no I should say met by Ian, the red headed Irish "chef".
Doug knows everything. If you don't believe me, just ask him. We were talking about diving. Doug asserted that the bends are caused by the fact that the tanks are filled with pure oxygen. No doug, they are filled with atmospheric gas, 80% nitrogen and the nitrogen causes the bends. "I've been diving 20 years." "Well, read an open water certification book." A tongue well lubricated by rum spewed more nonsense by the half hour.
We had been advised that he is quite a character. Doug ordered a rum and coke. "No, you want a mantis." His specialty drink, an overly sweet, glowing green concoction. There was plenty of room for the couple who had been rejected. Of the eight tables only three were occupied. The view was nice enough, not as nice as my deck, but not bad. We started off with a wonderful salad but the next course was unidentifiable stir fried meat and soggy noodles absent much flavoring. The third course was soggy rice oozing oil and some old bait fish. Two people wouldn't even eat it. I went back to town, dropped off the guys and Dittie and I went home for an early quiet night.
A part time local gave me a bunch of organic vegetable seeds. I made little envelopes out of squares of paper that evidenced my misspent youth. Locals came by and thought the one gram size envelopes were for illegal purposes. Maybe they were. I doubt it is legal for tourists to bring in seeds.
I had heard much about Mantis, a Thai restaurant way up the hill on another island, Bastimentos. Doug, the seed provider told me that he was to deliver some seeds to Ian, the operator of the restaurant. "Ok, come along." A short while later he invited Zach, a part time local from Alaska. Sure, why not, but he should have asked.
We called ahead for reservations and departed around 5:30. Some guy name Ryan had apparently also been invited by Doug. WTF? Was it the rum starting at 10 or is Doug completely oblivious to protocol? "Where did you come from? I didn't invite you." Doug responded, "I invited him, we have plenty of room." "Did you check with the captain of the boat?" "Hey, Jim, he's a great guy, starting a shrimp farm down here." "Great! Have you ever seen the effluent from a shrimping operation?" "Oh, he is doing it differently."
We headed down the street toward my boat. "How far is it to your boat?" "It's at Chow Kai's." "How far is that?" "Are you fucking kidding me? How many times have you walked down the main street?"
A couple of hundred yards later the three guys and my guest, Dittie boarded the boat. We headed out in rough water. Had I headed directly to my destination the five foot swells would have swamped or flipped the boat, I negotiated an angle of attack and then headed back toward the destination upon reaching the protection of the island from the waters of the open sea. "I think this guy knows these waters." Hell, if you can't see that it was necessary you shouldn't be at the helm.
The primary dock was nothing but a collection of poles. Great! We headed off and found Roots, a bar and docked on the leeward side so the swells wouldn't bang the boat into the dock. After a round of drinks we headed down the sidewalk, there are but two in town and no roads. Ryan and Dittie forget ahead, I turned at the walk that ascended the hill and asked them if they were coming. Slippery, sloping, slimy sidewalks after two weeks of rain four or five times a day. The sidewalk ended we walked up a mud trail to find the walk again. A couple were descending, they had not made reservations and were turned away. We encountered another couple heading to our destination. The sidewalk ended. The trail continued up through mud, sometimes with coconuts bordered with bamboo. I'd rather walk through mud that over the top of muddy, round, ankle twisting coconuts. More mud and slippery steps. We finally made it and were greeted, no I should say met by Ian, the red headed Irish "chef".
Doug knows everything. If you don't believe me, just ask him. We were talking about diving. Doug asserted that the bends are caused by the fact that the tanks are filled with pure oxygen. No doug, they are filled with atmospheric gas, 80% nitrogen and the nitrogen causes the bends. "I've been diving 20 years." "Well, read an open water certification book." A tongue well lubricated by rum spewed more nonsense by the half hour.
We had been advised that he is quite a character. Doug ordered a rum and coke. "No, you want a mantis." His specialty drink, an overly sweet, glowing green concoction. There was plenty of room for the couple who had been rejected. Of the eight tables only three were occupied. The view was nice enough, not as nice as my deck, but not bad. We started off with a wonderful salad but the next course was unidentifiable stir fried meat and soggy noodles absent much flavoring. The third course was soggy rice oozing oil and some old bait fish. Two people wouldn't even eat it. I went back to town, dropped off the guys and Dittie and I went home for an early quiet night.
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