Boats and boat people

After losing my fun Buck Island Job, I tried several different jobs. I really wanted to learn more about boats, the sea, and to go sailing away but there were some hard lessons to learn for a young lady in paradise among so many seamen.

My experience so far had been good. Sam was fun and he really wanted to teach me to sail. Since we were dating, it worked out that I didn't mind sharing small spaces with him. I liked living on the Papillon with him and it was aboard that boat that we sailed to St. John. I was a willing crew member, eager to do it all and learn from it too. He put me to work scubbing the hull while we were anchored in Cruz Bay on St. John. I did it topless. Why, I don't know, for the tan perhaps. Maybe because I could and had never done THAT before. It was different and it was just us. He got a kick out of it.

Sam and I ended up going in different directions eventually and my roommate Tina and I also parted ways because she moved in with a boyfriend and our landlord was a pervert with a peep hole (that I could never find). I needed a place to stay so temporarily I was given free accommodations aboard a small sailboat which was owned by Sam. The boat was quaint, cozy and just enough room for me and my luggage. It had one cabin, a deck shower, dishes, water, a battery to run lights and the water pump, and I found it quite comfortable. The only drawback to living on it was that I had no transportation to and from it and it was on a mooring in the middle of the Christianstead harbor.

Fortunately, I was not the only person living in the harbor on a boat. I was just the only one who didn’t have their own dingy. Each morning when I was ready to go to shore I only had to stand up on deck and flag someone to give me a ride. It is a common courtesy to offer stranded boaters a ride so I usually got one. It didn’t take long for me to have a regular ride each morning. Getting “home” at night was no problem as long as I went around the time most of the other harbor residents went to their own boat homes. I missed this window of time on a few occasions and spent the night elsewhere but one night, very stupidly, I swam out to my boat. This, only after I had yelled and yelled for Sam to give me ride but he was apparently asleep or not home on another boat which was anchored closer than mine but beyond the boats at the end of the dock. I woke up several residents with my yelling so jumped in. I made it but this was very stupid and I never did it again.

During this time, I worked for two weeks aboard a parasailing boat. I was crew and got to put the harness on the guest and run the winch that let the line out. At the end of each trip I got to scrub the boat with soap and water and rinse it off. Of course I wore my bikini because I was on a boat, in the sun, and getting wet. Sometimes there were a few spectator guys on the dock while I washed the boat. I felt ridiculous. This job didn’t last very long because I had found another sailing adventure to pursue.

I met a captain named Paul. I think someone told me he was looking for crew to run charters in the BVI. I went over to the marina and met him on his beautiful boat. It was like a floating luxury condo with three large aft cabins, a lovely salon and galley, and captains quarters in the bow with a private head. I told him I wanted to learn to sail and see more of the islands and he said I could go along as crew. A couple of days later, we set sail for St. Thomas. He said he had a cook who would be joining us later but a friend of his came with us that day.

The three of us had a lovely sail over to Yacht Haven in St. Thomas. When we arrived we were being watched. There were many other yachts of the same make as the one we were on but ours was, by far, a much finer boat, a gorgeous vessel. I learned quickly that there is an admiration ranking among the charter yachts and most of them have absentee owners and are operated by a captain and crew, such as ours. Some of them even had hot tubs on their sterns but ours was still the highest pedigree of the bunch. Maneuvering and docking those huge boats was quite a spectacle and took a good deal of skill and finesse for the captain and his crew. Everyone watched and was impressed with Paul’s docking.

Paul put us to work scrubbing and rinsing the deck and after it was all clean I was given one of the aft cabins for the night and Paul’s friend, another. We all went out to dinner together to a restaurant overlooking the famous Charlotte Amalie harbor where our boat had docked. It was exciting to be there and I was looking forward to the upcoming week. We were to get provisions for the boat and prepare for a charter but I was still unclear about my job and exactly what I would be doing when we had guests on board. I learned quickly however, just what was going on.

That night, before retiring to my cabin, I had lain in a hammock on the deck of the boat to enjoy the night. Paul came and got into it with me and started pawing me. I got out and told him I was going to bed and good night, see ya in the morning, etc. As soon as I got settled in my bed he came and crawled into it with me but I told him I did not want to start off this way. I didn’t know him and was not going to sleep with him. He was not happy but left me alone. The next morning he gave me a sea plane ticket to return to St. Croix. (The plane ride was an adventure in itself, landing on water, done that.) I gave up on my desire to be a charter crew person.

The more time I spent around boats and boat people the more I realized that truly, I would not want to make a life out of it, as some do. The people who live and work on them all have a recognizable look about them: thin, wrinkled, worn and tired. Boats and the sun wear them out. I noticed on the couple of times I worked boats that all that scrubbing is really hard on my hands. I'm glad I got a taste of it but also glad I didn't stay with it. I will gladly go on a sailing adventure any time, however, and have a dream of taking my kids on one someday.