What a disappointing turn of events in Paradise, since I thought I had actually come close to getting them together. But alas, even we Spirit Guides aren’t always all knowing and all seeing, and are sometimes working just as hard to get it right as are you humans. One thing’s for certain, matchmaking has never been my forte, and maybe I would find the need to enlist an Earthly assistant on that count.
Although it thoroughly pissed her off, Alex realized that Rob’s intentions and desire to get it right and to impress her with everything he’d learned about sailing over the last few weeks, had been sincere and that due to his embarrassment he was having trouble admitting his err. However, she knew only too well, that the road to Hell was paved with half-baked good intentions and was finding it harder and harder to forgive his interminable blunders, especially when he refused to own up to them. Up until now she had been pretty patient, realizing that this was a man who had probably never been the athletic or sportsman type in his life. In fact, she guessed accurately that the extent of Rob’s sporting activities comprised a membership at his local athletic club back in Chicago, which was used as much to build his social and business mussel as it was meant to build his body. After all, it was an honest mistake to confuse his port from his starboard, since some people at age thirty still didn’t know their right from their left, let alone which side of the boat was which after only a matter of weeks on the water. Had Rob only faced up to his shortcomings in sailing proficiency at that point she could have easily forgiven him. But Alex, who was always the first to face the music whenever she was at err, couldn’t accept the fact that Rob was unwilling to admit to his latest screw-up. Not only that, he was doing his best to shift the burden of blame to her shoulders.
There is something strange about a sailboat that can turn the nicest of guys into Captain Bligh even if they are only the First Mate, providing some validity to the age old axiom that all men are inherently pirates at heart. The part about a man being master of his own ship seems to somehow induce this metamorphosis. After all, it is an island unto itself where the owner is King and his crew are his subjects. There were rare exceptions to this condition, however Alex had been hard-pressed to find more than a handful during her years in this profession. Then there was the fact that ‘master/owner part, was in direct conflict with the fact that the captain of the Island Fever was not the owner, which was somewhat akin to two rulers of one domain vying for the throne. Not to mention the on-going internal conflict with Rob’s ego of having a woman in charge, and the fact that as a child, Rob had secretly always dreamed of growing up to be a pirate. In fact, he had always wanted to play the pirate and the mermaid, instead of cowboys and Indians – alas, he was surrounded by a sea of corn rather than the great blue ocean, and unfortunately his cousin Marie’s imagination had not been as fertile as Rob’s. So, Rob spent his nights fantasizing about that other watery, magical world that he was not to see until his first trip to New York with Sydney – were he stood atop of the Statue of Liberty and looked out to sea for the first time in his life, with respectful wonder.
Rob realized that once again this recent catastrophe didn’t seem to fit at all into his dream world. He was in fact beginning to wonder if there was truly any real difference between Hell and Paradise. In fact, suddenly the meaning of ‘Paradise’ was quickly being redefined in Rob’s mind as, “A place of great discontentment.” Surely Webster had never run a charter boat in Paradise. All Rob knew was that he was not satisfied, happy, or delighted by the turn of events in Paradise.
Of course, disputing who was correct here was not going to change the fact that the Island Fever presently resembled the Titanic just before it sunk, and Alex was far from committed to going down with her ship as had Captain Smith. In fact, she was close to commandeering the last available life boat for herself, even if the Island Fever was in no immanent danger of sinking. And, if it had not been for her responsibility to the Island Fever itself, she would have surely abandoned ship.
Aware that the soundness of the port hull had been compromised by the buoy in some way, Alex decided that there was more imminent damage to tend to than Rob’s floundering ego, which was also about to resemble the sinking of the Titanic. She decided to ignore Rob for the moment and crawled through the closed companionway – down the steps into the hull to survey the situation. When she stepped onto the floorboards in the hull, she found water flowing in through the ripped waterline plank. There was already six inches of water above the floorboards not to mention the additional six inches in the bilge. Although she was shocked to find so much water in the hull, she realized that, the Island Fever couldn’t sink due to the fact that she was a wooden vessel with a greater displacement capacity than it’s overall weight. She also knew that, unlike the Titanic, the bulkheads which were forward and aft, were luckily undamaged and fully watertight, keeping the fore and aft compartments unaffected by the water that poured into the gapping hole amidships.
Name calling and lambasting aside, a tow was in order to bring the crippled Island Fever back into port. Antigua bound she was not – once again leaving Rob no option but to loose an opportunity to make some much needed dinero. So, Alex got on channel sixteen to radio for help – help from the man who had just extorted eight hundred dollars from them in their unfortunate predicament. And here they had found themselves in yet another and once again at his mercy.
“Bubba’s Marina, Bubba’s Marina, Bubba’s Marina… this is the Island Fever, over.” Alex waited listening for an answer over the silent radio, but received no response. “Bubba’s Marina, Bubba’s Marina, Bubba’s Marina… this is the Titanic over… we have hit an iceberg and we are in need of emergency assistance… over,” called Alex attempting to bring some humor to the rapidly sinking atmosphere aboard. Although she succeeded eliciting a chuckle from Raymond, Rob was far from amused.
Alex waited patiently wondering if she might have to attempt actually towing the Island Fever back in with her own dinghy, but thought better of it, realizing that with the hull taking on water, the boat would also be rapidly gaining in weight. Of course, she could sail her in, but since it would require a starboard tack, which would only serve to drive more water into the hull, she thought better of it and decided to wait for Bubba, or anyone else monitoring sixteen, to get back to her. Alex had never known Bubba to miss an opportunity to make some quick cash on a salvage job so she stood by patiently, voyeur to Rob’s growing panic as he tried to start-up the bilge pump as Raymond bailed water through the lower head with a bucket. Once more she repeated the call on the VHF. “Bubba’s Marina, Bubba’s Marina, Bubba’s Marina… this is the Island Fever… we are taking on water over.”
“Islan Feva… dis Bubpa’s Marina… go ta channel tree ova,” answered Max, Bubba’s night manager who had likely been in the back room with his girl friend all along.
Relieved, Alex dialed the radio down to channel three as instructed since channel sixteen was reserved for contact only – the proper rule of thumb was to choose another channel on which to chit chat or discuss business unless of course it was a life or death emergency.
“Bubba’s Marina, Island Fever over,” Alex called back once again on channel three.
“Roger Islan Feva… I rea’ you louw an klea…. what seem to be de problim?” asked Max in his thick West Indian accent. “You’d forget someting?”
“No but some barge hand sure did,” answered Alex. “You know that rather large steel buoy the cruise ships use in Great Bay?”
“Yea shur. It been out dere’s lon as I been heerd,” responded Max, quite sure of its whereabouts.
“Actually, it’s now about two hundred yards southwest of Point Blanche where some fool deckhand forgot to untie it before the ship drug it offshore. Seems we’ve just managed to take it between the hulls. It’s ripped off a few planks on the waterline and we’re taking on water in our port hull.
“Damn maun… you guys hav all de luk,” said Max wincing at the thought as he fished around in the des
k drawer for his boat keys. “All de baad luk dat is. How baad it be?”
“Well, we’re not likely to sink,” responded Alex, “But let’s just say that we won’t be making it to Antigua by tomorrow, or even back to the dock for that matter since our engine’s now in fifty feet of water. Think you could manage a tow?”
“Sur ting Ms. Alex, be ride wid yu… ova an out.”
Of course, the moment the harbor master heard Alex’s call for help, he had switched down to three to monitor the situation. After all, they were more than anxious to get the Island Fever off the island and out of their jurisdiction, than even Alex and Rob were. To the harbor master, word of their unplanned extended stay on his island was bad news, since the crew was witness to their recent screw up and were now destined to be unwanted guests of the island for the next few months. Surely, it would not take long for word of their officious blunder to get around the island let alone the Caribbean via the ‘Coconut Telegraph.’.
As the crew of the Island Fever sat quietly in the cockpit with the main cocked to windward and the rudders set to leeward to slow her drift, Rob sat wondering where he’d first gone wrong or at least at what juncture he’d drifted so far off course.
“What have I done to deserve all of this,” thought Rob. “I’m not such a bad guy, I don’t deserve this. It’s Sydney, I know it. She’s put some sort of curse on me as pay back. Ever since I stepped foot on this boat my life’s turned to shit. Maybe Sydney was right all along. Maybe I should have just written the whole thing off to experience and gone home. Not only did I loose Sydney, my savings, my job, and my car, but now Alex hates me and thinks I’m a total moron.” Rob, it seemed, had found himself somewhere ‘West of the Equator’ and was clueless on how to find his way back.
Ironically, the full moon was now peeking over the edge of the eastern horizon like a golden orb rising out of the sea between Fourche and the point, lighting up the ocean ahead of them – illuminating fish pots and their iceberg as if it were daylight. Alas, that divine will was at work once again, if only they had left thirty minutes later Rob’s life would have been on course to Antigua right at that moment to pick up the other half of his charter fee. But instead, Rob had found himself dodging the floating debris that life manages to somehow place right in your path, which thankfully often serves to save some people from themselves. Sometimes it’s placed there simply to teach you a lesson and other times it’s a sign to tell you that you’re just not on the right course – the course of events attributed to universal will and destiny.1* Some actually learn to recognize the fact that obstacles are put there for a reason and take it as a warning to give up and go home – others manage to find a way to navigate around them and grow to be stronger human beings. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from this job as Rob’s tour guide, it’s that humans, seem to need to learn about life the hard way. Rob was just taking a small alternate route from his destined course, but proof of it as an enlightened experience was yet to be seen. What humans don’t remember is that this is part of the deal that one expects to run into when they agree, on this side, to take on the human experience in the first place. After all, they do design their life’s curriculum that they are to live by before they get to Earth in order to learn their designated lessons.
Rob had unfortunately never been and exponent of any other philosophy for that matter, and he was still attempting to push rivers upstream. Whether he liked it or not, he was being taught that those devices employed by the Universe to correct one’s course can sometimes include large objects such as water buoys placed directly in your path. The other lesson he was still learning was that, ultimately, no great power outside himself was in control and the reality of the dues to be paid were exacted only by himself.
“Why did this have to happen now,” lamented Rob as he waited in the cockpit with his head in his hands for the rescue boat.
“Everything happens for a reason,” Raymond readily pointed out to Rob. “I guess this was just your destiny. Otherwise it wouldn’t have happened. It’s a lesson you had to learn.”
With this new awareness suddenly dawning at the forefront of Rob’s consciousness, he was beginning to understand that maybe he had indeed just been enrolled in life’s crash course of enlightenment. He was just uncertain of the Universe’s grand reasoning and purpose behind this latest flotsam and jetsam3*** which had been strewn in his path. Rob, was indeed making one mistake after the other. But, if mistakes were a learning curve, then surely Rob was in an accelerated training program and enlightenment couldn’t be far off. What Rob didn’t realize was that there were really no mistakes in life, only lessons, since nothing is truly negative unless you perceive it to be so. And, as they say, one must first go through Hell in order to reach Paradise.
Of course, the ‘cosmic experiment’ theory could easily apply here too as an alternate explanation for one’s predetermined path through life, thought Rob. The theory that there is some superior race of beings out there is simply using him as a pawn in their Universal game of cosmic chess. If this theory indeed were to have any validity to it whatsoever, then Rob’s invisible opponent in his game of life had just, called check.
Rob had always been one of those naive beings who believed that he was the sole choreographer in his little dance through life, even if he was doing the ‘Swim’ to keep his head above water while the rest of the Universe seemed to think he should be already on the ‘Macarana.’ So, Rob was a few steps out of time. He’d catch up, or catch on, eventually.
Prior to this, the biggest emergency that Rob had ever dealt with was a flat tire on the road, or locking his keys in the car. Up until now he had always known he could simply call AAA, but this time his ten year membership wasn’t going to save him. And, being born in September under not only a Virgo sun, but also a Virgo moon, the efficient yet unfortunate thing about Rob’s personality was that he had never known or allowed disorder in his life. He had always made certain that everything fit into neat little compartments including his emotions. Now that things were starting to go awry, Rob was finding that he had no management skills to access for handling chaos, catastrophe, and mayhem, and he was beginning to realize that he was starting to fall apart along with his life. Rather than simply heeding all the warning signs that he was definitely not on the easiest heading for smooth sailing, Rob had persisted in plowing ahead without stopping to consult his compass – that internal compass known as the ‘Higher Self’ – what some can only acknowledge by a standard nomenclature known as intuition.
Fritz was not pleased, to say the least, about the latest turn of events in Rob’s world, however, he was not exactly surprised by Rob’s latest, due to his persisting string of bad luck. So, although Fritz felt sympathetic for Rob’s unfortunate predicament, he asked him to send his deposit back, wished him well, and told him to call him when, and if, the scourge lifted. Once again, Rob was on his own in Paradise.
1*DESTINY – A predetermined or inevitable course of events — the events or option-lines you choose to experience during the course of your human incarnation before you come here to spend a lifetime. Once you are here, destiny is simply, destiny. There’s not much point in fighting it because it’s going to eventually run the show whether you want it to or not. So you may as well just set your oars and raise your sails and go with the flow. After all, what have you got to lose? The Universe only acts in perfect ways. It’s when you try to fight it that life gets bumpy because you’re not headed in the direction in which you’re supposed to be, or at least along the easiest route – kind of like beating to weather, or attempting to steer the boat north when its autopilot2** is on south. Of course, everyone has the option of free will and choice over destiny, that is if we want to be so hard-headed as to choose an alternate back-road. But in time most learn that the ride is far easier when driving on a well paved highway, than bouncing over boulders in a dried-up river-bed.
2**AUTOPILOT – A device used to steer a boat on a predetermined course or heading.
Confucius say, “Find smooth sailing if let big autopilot name destiny lead way.”
3***FLOTSAM & JETSAM – Flotsam would be those items washed overboard by the sea. As opposed to Jetsam, which are those articles discarded deliberately during an emergency or just simply those things which are unwanted. Those outcasts who are discarded from society — Rob’s current ranking amongst Sydney’s peers.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ego or Eating Crow
“The ego is nothing more
than a part of your belief that you are here.”
“A Course in Miracles”
Since the widest boat that Bubba’s sling lift could accommodate was twenty four feet wide, and the Island Fever was just slightly more than twenty-six, Bubba suggested that he tow them just off the beach in Simpson Bay, a few bays north of Philipsburg, since it was impossible to get her out of the water and onto dry land in town. When he and Max arrived at around nine with their thirty foot work boat, Alex already had her bow bridle set up for Max to tie onto his boat in order to tow them. Bubba, a forty year old Dutch West Indian, originally from Aruba, was a rough, tough, mean Antillian cowboy and possessed little compassion for a fellow human being in need when commerce lay in the way. Knowing the man who had just made a week’s wages off of their earlier misfortune, Alex wisely climbed aboard his boat, ‘The Treasure Hunter,’ in order to negotiate and confirm his price for the tow. Alex knew that by International Law, (once he had a line on the Island Fever) he could justly claim salvage rights if he chose to be a jerk and exploit an unfortunate sailor who was at the mercy of his assistance. Luckily, Alex knew that their situation was far from life threatening, which gave her some leeway to negotiate ‘the deal.’ She also knew that if worst came to worst she could limp into Great Bay under sail, and anchor until morning when she could call her old buddy Jeff from the marina in Simpson Bay Lagoon.
West of the Quator Page 19
