Alex and Rob could not believe their eyes the next morning when they saw the devastation along the southwestern shore of the lagoon where the boats were pilled like discarded wrecks from a war – not unlike the shores of Normandy. The toll exacted on sailor’s lives had not been quite as high as that fated day five decades before, but there were already seven known dead and dozens still missing. On shore, the death toll was uncertain due to the fact that there was quite a large invisible Haitian worker population that lived in the hills – with relatively little or no safe shelter from such a storm.
There were twenty or more boats scattered across the airport runway which had washed up and over the road at the east end of the airport on the western side of the lagoon, and several on the main road itself. The one island crane was busy working overtime attempting to clear the road and the runway by moving the boats to a makeshift boatyard across from the airport. It would take a lot more to clear the channel through the bridge, and then it would take even longer to replace the existing bridge with a new one. Most of the boats along the shore had been crushed by other boats – six or seven deep in some places. The ones on the bottom, which had sunk, actually were the lucky ones it seemed. Once they were able to raise them they had fared much less damage that the ones crushed on shore, since the bottom of the lagoon seemed to have been the quietest place to have ridden out the storm. Somewhat like inner peace – the depths of the lagoon had remained calm and undisturbed.
Alex and Rob borrowed a car from Jeff and drove to the French side to check on Grandpa at the hospital, and to make certain that someone had seen to Grandma’s rrangements. But, when they arrived, they found eight of his twelve children by his beside. The family had flown in from all over when they found out about Grandma. Luckily, the French airport was still open for business, and of all their children living in the islands, and a few from Canada, had been able to get there. At the door they were met by Veronica, the youngest, who informed them that Grandma had already been cremated that morning and the service was to be held that afternoon. They thanked her and hugged her and quietly walked to Grandpa’s beside. Their hearts ached when they saw Grandpa laying in that bed staring up at the ceiling at nothing at all. It was if a part of him had died with Grandma, like someone had extinguished the light inside. Grandpa didn’t even know them – he was in his own world – one that seemed to include Grandma since he talked to her as if she were there in the room with them. It was as if he were ready to give up – ready to go home.
Rob and Alex introduced themselves to Grandma and Grandpa’s children. They already knew Veronica, who lived nearby on the island. But, her siblings had already heard all about Rob and Alex from Grandma and Grandpa who spoke about them constantly in letters and on the phone. Their oldest son and daughter planned to take Grandpa back with them to Toronto since Veronica had also lost most of her home in the storm. They were planning to leave the next day, and Rob knew that this might be the last time he would ever see Grandpa again. In his gut he knew that Grandpa would not survive long without Grandma. They had been together nearly three-quarters of a century and their souls would be lost in the Universe without each other. Rob mourned as much for his own loss as he did for Grandpa’s since he knew that Grandpa would soon join his true love on The Other Side. It seemed that Rob’s life teacher had come into his life overnight, and had departed as quickly.
Rob and Alex attended the service on the beach at sunset where the cottage had stood – where Grandma had lovingly raised her children who had returned to their island to put her to rest. Four of their children had immigrated back to Grenada to live, and knowing that Grandma’s favorite spot in the world had been the rainforest there, they made the decision to spread her ashes in the pool beneath the falls. It had been her place to go to when she was a child growing up alone – her solace and her comfort. A place where Wini knew she could commune with her mother and father as Alex had done with hers.
As she heard each child speak, Alex realized that even her own children didn’t know how deeply enlightened a soul Grandma had been, since they spoke as if Grandma were the very ashes that were held within that urn. When they were finished, Alex stepped forward and laid a flower on the sand next to the urn and then turned to Grandma’s children. “I’d like to say something… if that would be all right,” Alex asked hesitantly. “I know I’m not family but I did get to know her well in the short time I was privileged to have shared time with her.”
“Please,” said Veronica who knew how close Alex and her mother had grown. “She would like that,” she said as she smiled at Alex.
Alex hesitated a moment fighting back the tears and the lump in her throat that threatened to steal her voice. She closed her eyes for a moment trying to picture Grandma’s smiling face clearly, but strangely, she could only pull up a vague image of the woman who had only a few days before told her that life goes on no matter what.
“Grandma taught me a wealth of lessons about living and dying,” Alex said.”And she taught me that only a happy person can create happiness in others. She taught me that one can only be loved if they are willing to love themselves. She taught me many things in the short time I knew her, but the most important thing she taught me, was that the only truly important thing in life is love, and that you do take it with you when you go.” Alex cried openly now ready to feel the pain of her immediate loss and the loss of her past.
A tear ran down Rob’s cheek as he watched Alex – remembering what Grandma had once said to him. “Life can end at any moment, and if we haven’t loved… truly loved, we’ve missed the purpose of why we came here in the first place.” Rob now understood what the true purpose of his life was. He knew that he had come here to learn to love – himself, his life, and everything and everyone on the planet, but most important of all – Alex. Rob had finally begun to understand life, but more importantly, for the first time, he understood death. Life and death no longer seemed like two totally juxt opposed concepts – life was about letting go and even being willing to allow some part of yourself to die, for someone better to be reborn. And death, was about living every day as if it were your last. That day, Rob and Alex said their farewells to Grandma, comforted by the knowledge that she had happily returned home.
1*OUT OF BODY EXPERIENCE — Better known as astral travel. When one’s spirit body leaves the physical body for a little gallivant about the Universe staying connected to the body by a silver cord.
2**THE OTHER SIDE – Where a soul live on once it’s left the physical body – the other side of ‘the light.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The Payoff
“True wealth is not the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It is the rainbow.”
Ian
The island was once again dark due to the absence of utilities, thanks to Claire having washed out the power plant – not to mention the fact that the water plant was not in operation due to the lack of electricity. The island’s cisterns were quite full from the torrential downpour the island had received, however so were the island’s many septic tanks which now overflowed into the flooded streets and into the cisterns – contaminating the drinking water. Historically, the average storm would rob the island of services for approxi-mately a two week period, however, Claire was not your average storm, and the island was predicting months before it would be fully operational again; and years before it could even begin to recover from the disaster, if ever. It had taken a major toll on some of the island’s major resorts which had pretty much blown away in the storm. The island desperately needed the assistance of the Red Cross, however word was that the government was afraid to call them in, since they were in fear of the negative publicity that might hurt the island next tourist season.
Alex looked at herself in the mirror – she would definitely end up with a scar. But then, that was what made you appreciate life all the more – those reminiscent battle scars to both flesh and spirit that made one remember the pain and thus fully appreciate the plea
sures of life. But aside from the scar, Alex was fine. It seemed that, as Rob knew all too well, Alex was a hard headed woman and had managed to absorb the glancing blow without too much residual damage. Alex was a survivor, as was Rob – determined to find her true purpose in this life and live it to its fullest.
Rob and Alex now had to take stock of where they were and what was next. Hurricane season wasn’t quite over so the first order of business was to get the Island Fever inside the lagoon through the French bridge. Now that there were so few boats in the lagoon, the risk of damage from another boat dragging into them was slim.
Rob was at the point where he needed a vacation from his extended vacation – desperately. This time however, he needed a break from Paradise, and a little dose of civilization sounded quite appealing to him. Even a visit home, strangely sounded good to Rob. Maybe he’d take Alex to meet his family – maybe it was time for Rob to make peace with his father now that he realized how unpredictable life was, and how fragile.
Rob and Alex sailed the boat around to Marigot the next morning and had Jeff from the marina, tow them in through the bridge. He dropped them in the southwest corner of the lagoon on Joey’s mooring that had somehow survived the storm. Christian lent a hand putting the boat back together while Rob and Alex went to help the other sailors who were struggling to salvage what was left of their boats. Several large catamarans had ended up on shore in various stages of disrepair and the owners were vying for time from the island crane so that they could right their boats and begin to assess the damage. Lines of the Coconut Telegraph were buzzing around the island with stories of the storm – of how a fifty foot catamaran had been seen sailing through the air like a kite and had landed upside down on top of a small monohull, only to be blow away again onto shore in the next 200 knot plus gust. And of sailors who had abandoned ship to spend nearly 24 hours in the lagoon hanging onto mangroves1* to keep from being blown away themselves. Rob and Alex worked most of the day lending a hand as best they could, but the devastation was overwhelming.
Rob and Alex had not attempted to go over the hill into town, but word was that the entire town of Philipsburg was under water from the flooded Saltpond – all the way up to the food market at the new traffic circle. In fact, most residents and shop owners had resorted to driving the streets in dinghies since there was no other way to reach their buildings to assess the damage. Due to the fact that the Saltpond was the island dump, no one in their right mind was dumb enough to wade through the waist deep water to get from place to place. Once again, another year had passed without the island officials allocating enough money in the budget to purchase a large enough pump to handle all the water that always accumulated in the Saltpond basin from the runoff of the surrounding hills. After all, that new Mercedes sedan for the Senator was a far more important expenditure than a new pump that may not even be needed that season.
Dinner that night was an appetizing menu of post hurricane cuisine consisting of canned Spam, green peas, and sardines, with Campbell’s tomato soup for a starter. No restaurants were open since there was no refrigeration and all the food in their freezers had already spoiled and been delegated to fish food. The seas were still too rough for the local fishermen to go out, but even if they could, most of their boats had been turned to matchsticks on the French docks. The meager produce the island produced in Columbier such as mango and banana now lay on the ground rotting where the wind had stripped the trees of foliage, and blown fruit around as if it had been shot from a canon. Even the main food wholesaler on the island had lost their entire warehouse from a tornado spawned by the storm – all that remained were a few cases of beer and sodas amongst the twisted steel bar that framed where the building had once stood, the rest of which had already been raided by the locals. All in all, the island was left with little or no sustenance and was totally reliant on the meager hurricane provisions that the islanders had hurriedly stored before the storm.
Rob and Alex fell into their bunk that night still in their grimy work clothes – exhausted from the last few days of relentless work and agonizing grief. The next morning Rob and Alex rose to a beautiful clear day with the sun reflecting blinding-ly off the surface of the lagoon, which now extended inland throughout parts of Cole Bay due to the standing water from the storm. They bathed sparingly, in about a gallon of water each. They only had a limited supply of clean water aboard since they hadn’t had the opportunity to fill all their tanks before the storm. Alex was exhausted, both physically and emotionally – unable to offer a hand to other boat owners that day. The carnage amongst the yachts she’d witnessed the day before had sickened her and made her feel completely and utterly empty inside. Although, it had left her grateful that the Island Fever had survived and had safely seen them through the storm, she felt a sickening loss at the pit if her stomach to think how close they’d come to total annihilation. That morning she decided to stay aboard and work on putting their life back in order. Even with Christian’s help the boat was still a mess, but the clean up of their physical possessions would be easy. It was her state of mind that would be the toughest to unscramble.
Saba radio patched through a call on 16 that morning around eleven from Raymond in Antigua. He had just arrived back to find that the Island Fever had returned to St. Maarten – should he meet them there, or should he wait for them in Antigua? Alex, who knew no more of their future plans than Rob did asked Raymond to stay with Dancer until they had had time to sort things out. All she knew for sure was that they needed a break, and would likely not be back in Antigua for the rest of the month of October – certainly not until hurricane season was well over.
Rob decided to check out the flight possibilities off the island on the French side since the Dutch airport runway had still not totally been cleared. He drove carefully through the flooded streets with downed trees and debris, to the airport in Grand Case. He wanted to see what the chances were of getting a flight off the island to Puerto Rico or some other nearby American territory, as soon as possible. Surprisingly enough, he was able to book seats for two days hence to Puerto Rico, which was not quite as surprising as the fact that he had actually gotten the Yellow Submarine running that morning after digging it out from under a mound of sand and palm fronds, not to mention having to clear the engine of seaweed and saltwater. The waterlogged seats still steamed up the windows but at least it was transportation, since all of the rental car agencies were closed due to the lack of tourists on the island. All those that could, had flown out on the last few flights before the storm.
Rob returned to the boat that afternoon with a few fresh lobster he’d managed to buy from a fisherman in Grand Case for ten times their worth, and the exciting news that he and Alex were going to the States on holiday. Although apprehensive about meeting his folks, Alex was quite relieved at the thought of a respite on land for a while with hot water, real showers, and most of all, a dry bed. Dinner that night tasted like a feast. Alex cooked the lobster with rice and some canned escargot she had on board and Rob opened a bottle of red wine. It had taken three tries however, before he found a bottle that hadn’t turned to vinegar from the shaking it had taken during the storm. Alex, Rob, and Christian sat around the table in the deckhouse that evening and gave thanks for the meal that lay before them. Only a few days prior they had assumed to be their last, and here they were – together – enjoying their meager offerings from the sea that felt so satiating. Rob thought he’d never tasted food as good as what lay before him.
Christian was already in his bunk, exhausted from the last week’s excitement and Rob and Alex were busy cleaning up the galley from the evening’s meal when they heard a power boat approaching. They felt the wake of it hit the boat as the engine idled down to a stop, and a bump against the starboard hull – then hushed voices. Assuming it was another sailor coming to check on them, or a boatless one in need of something that the Island Fever might have, Rob stepped out of the deckhouse into the cockpit. To Rob’s surprise – there stood Joey o
n the aft hull accompanied by several official, clean-cut men who were obviously Americans and looked quite out of their realm in their matching Hawaiian shirts.
“Joey?” questioned Rob thinking he was imagining things.
“Guess you thought I was never coming back ole buddy. Sorry bout that,” he said as he slapped Rob on the back.
“Well… yeah… as a matter of fact…” answered Rob uncertain what to expect from Joey now that he had magically reappeared. Would Joey stop Rob from chartering the boat? Would he take it back? Would he ruin all that Rob had worked so hard for? Rob wasn’t certain if he was relieved to finally see Joey again, or angry enough to take him out for leaving him in this position in the first place.
“The boat looks good, considering,” said Joey looking around.”
“Thanks,” answered Rob a little defensively.
“I hear you’ve been through a lot since I saw you last… a hurricane, a renegade water buoy, a brief visit to the island jail —”
“— not to mention Miguel’s goons and a bullet in my foot,” added Rob not a little sarcastically.
“Oh yeah, sorry about that. Actually that’s why I’m here,” said Joey clearing his throat.
“Who’re your friends?” questioned Rob referring to Joey’s entourage.
“We just need to have a little chat with you Rob… you alone?”
“Alex’s here…,” he gestured inside.” We’re together you know, engaged.”
“Really! I knew you two had shacked up together but I didn’t realize it was that serious. I guess you guys haven’t been doing your homework,” Joey said casting a look at his white collar thugs.
West of the Quator Page 40
