Marigot, St Martin, Caribbean (original) (raw)
March 2 1995, 19:00
Around mid-afternoon I took it into my head to go looking for this scuba "resort course" for $75 down in Simpson's Lagoon. I don't remember what I did in the morning; I dare say it wasn't very interesting.
I do remember: I went shopping with Dad. I got the film developed that Roo opened the back of the camera on. Prints were absurdly expensive ($40 for 2 films, 24 & 36 exp.) so I just got the negatives processed to stabilize it and to show Roo that only the last 8 frames were damaged.
I sailed into Simpson's Lagoon. (Actually, I've found out, it's Simson's Lagoon.) After going under the bridge, I still had a hundred yards of channel to navigate; rather than row it, I decided to try and sail it into the wind, for kicks. I managed... just. It took me about twenty minutes. The subsequent sail to the scuba place was downwind and relaxing. On arriving at the scuba place, there was this rather high-class hotel and a chap with a video camera on the beach. Desperately wanting not to screw up for posterity, I headed into the beach and ran aground. It wasn't too ignominious, though: I yanked up the centre-board and made the last few yards with a little residual dignity.
The information on the resort course was discouraging. $75 for forty minutes in the water and a maximum depth of 25 feet? Hell, I can practically snorkel that depth. (I didn't say that out loud; I was talking to a blonde French-speaking girl.) So I turned around and had a nice sail past Grand Key to Port de Plaisance (almost), keeping an eye out for Zealander on the way.
No Zealander.
Dusk was falling; I cast around for Das Lied von der Erde, Darren/Linda/Robyn's boat. They heard my tail of woe, that I'd lost my family, and after trying to contact Zealander on the VHF, without success, Darren took me towards Marigot with the dinghy in tow. We saw Zealander's lights coming the other way; they'd run aground for an hour and a half.