Guess who's Back, Back on Land

Location: an apartment near Lagoon Marina, Sint Maarten

Hi. It's been awhile. Here are some paragraphs in some order about some individuals and events.

Two Wednesday nights ago, we had our last Wednesday night party on the boat before hauling her out of the water. I received an hour-long lesson about how to properly sharpen knives. The people giving the lesson were Bridget, a professional chef, and Ryan, whose resume includes sous-chef, air force veteran, professional archer, rave lighting designer, and personal assistant. I also learned that my friend Bryce, a data scientist, grew up on a farm and used to do activities such as throwing hay bales. Other notable party guests included Kit Kat, a very friendly pit bull, and Leo the Technobaby.

Nika made an impromptu decision to join a boat going to the Dominican Republic. She left a week after meeting the crew at a bar. They had numerous issues regarding crew legalities and left a day later than planned. Apparently she made it there safe, and was last seen holding a one-litre bottle of beer.

At a barbecue held at Port de Plaisance (where Ananda was docked), I met a forty-something-year-old chef and intense coke user who was the epitome of a tortured artist and talked to me for over an hour about a complicated relationship with a lady who was currently on a road trip across the US. (It's a long story involving multiple individuals, broken hearts, blackmailing, and a knife fight—not with the lady.) He was writing a romantic novel that had three possible endings, but I didn't get to hear the third one because he was very drunk and kept repeating the other two instead. It was a fascinating encounter.

Lagoonies held a flea market and I got a few knickknacks as well as many, many free clothes. I now have a huge robe made out of canvas with Japanese characters on the back, simply because it cost zero dollars. I will deal with the issue of bringing it home at a later date. Later that day we took Jean's car to join Flora's gang up at Loterie Farm, which is a nature reserve at the top of a mountain on the French side. Technically you can hike and zipline there, but Flora rented out the VIP spring-fed pool and our exercise consisted of alternating between lounging sitting at the pool or lounging on the couches. (Flora being Flora, there were absolutely enormous bottles of rosé. The waiter had to use a special technique to pour them so that they didn't drop.) Later that night, we went to a bar called The Hole in the Wall. It's owned by a Montrealer, and I was very happy to see that there was hockey playing.

Towards the end of the week, we moved from the boat to a nice apartment near Lagoonies. The apartment has lots of floor space, a full kitchen, a large balcony, excellent WiFi, and, most importantly, fans and air conditioning. (Apparently, in England, houses don't have ceiling fans. This is very strange. It is a good thing that we are not there.) The apartment also has nice things such as a toaster, extremely cute round floor cushions, and a coffee table at a height just so that if I sit on a floor cushion, it makes for the perfect desk. I really like floor cushions now.

The next day, we hauled the boat out of the water and into a boatyard. It got lifted up by a crane. That crane is so cool. I like big structures: big boats, big buildings, big trucks. This crane fits the bill. I cannot emphasize how awesome it is to see an entire floating house slowly and effortlessly lifted out of the water. I took too many pictures.

The island started a midnight pseudo-curfew for certain businesses. The night before it was implemented, I got woken up at 11:50 (I had gone to bed early) and was dragged out by Anna and Jean into the most humid night in existence. There was salsa music at The Soggy Dollar and I saw some friends so no regrets, but I'm not sure if it was worth the missed sleep. I also found out at 2am that one of Jean's Dutch friends lived in the apartment below us.

Wednesday morning, Jean brought the most amazing almond-chocolate croissants known to man. I think that I will pitch this almond-chocolate idea to Première Moisson, as it was delicious and I absolutely refuse to let this be the last time that I have it. Wednesday night, since we couldn't have a party on the boat, we had a party in the apartment. Flora brought an amazing paella and broke the news that her next gig after Ananda would be managing a private island in the Bahamas. Bryce pulled up in a Christmas onesie. Explanations were asked. None were given. It was a memorable night.

Jean lives on a catamaran houseboat on the French side of the lagoon. It's very rustic and is made of planks of wood (the ceiling leaks), but it's quite quirky and is in a beautiful location, moored right outside a small island whose only inhabitant is a cat. He gets home by dinghy, of which he has several, although most of them are currently being repaired. Ishka moved out of Jean's place and now lives by the beach in an apartment with an eclectic set of furniture along with an eclectic set of people. The beach is good for sunset picnics.

Due to the WiFi and niceness of the kitchen, Ryan has practically become a part-time resident of the apartment. He likes cooking, and his policy is that as long as we buy the ingredients, he will make the food. So far, he has made pasta sauce, French toast, quesadillas, and the best grilled cheese sandwiches ever. We like Ryan. Ryan also takes pride in knowing about lots of movies, and so we have had a few movie nights. (The apartment has a functional TV, which may not seem like much to you landlubbers, but to us boat people, it is almost as insane as the toaster.) The latest movie night was a full-on event and included a cheeseboard, the aforementioned quesadillas, and the presence of Technobaby. We saw "Captain Ron," which is a movie about an old boat, a family that doesn't know anything about sailing, and a captain who knows a little too much about it. I liked it because it was accurate as to what you shouldn't do while sailing but very secretly want to. 10/10, highly recommend watching.

To prepare for my summer job, I got re-certified in first aid. I took the class in a gym literally right around the corner from the apartment. The gym was called The Pain Cave. The lady giving the course was a grizzled EMT who told us stories of the various gruesome injuries that she'd witnessed. We learned how to secure things that were stabbed in eyes. (An incident happened on the island two years ago, when a guy cheated on his girlfriend. It was a very big knife.) I learned that 911 (which is reserved for the police; the ambulance has a different number) was closed for a week here due to the fact that people were using it to call their spouses who worked on the line. It was a great class.

Saturday morning, we saw Ananda off. Their next stop is Antigua, before making a long trek up to Connecticut. I will miss her crew dearly. They are amazing people who bring warmth and laughter wherever they go. They also took Bryce with them as he had never sailed before, so it'll be a while before we see the Christmas onesie again. Earlier that week, Josh, the English wakeboarding equivalent of a Californian surfer, had left on an Atlantic crossing. Later this week, Ryan leaves on a boat to go back to St. Thomas. It's sad to see people leave, especially when the odds of seeing them again are slim. I'm glad to have Jem and Anna here. (Jem has promoted me to 1st mate. I feel very cool.) However, my gap year ends in a month, and even though I know that I will see them again, it'll be awhile before it happens.  I have wonderful friends and family in Montreal and am excited to see you all again, but leaving St. Maarten will be a bittersweet feeling. There are no almond trees back home.