Every-day People, part 1: Mi Familia de Catamaran

Cruisers are a different breed of person.

I knew it to be true before I even left. Let's face it, you start to get an idea after a few family get-together's Still, my understanding of the concept was not only validated but renewed with vigor not 24 hours after arrival. It is the romance of the landscape that inspires you to go sail, the success and excitement that inspire you to keep sailing, but it really is the people you meet that inspire you to make it a lifestyle. With that in mind, I have decided to dedicate a series of my travel updates to the people I have met as a way of better telling my story, since they have either contributed to or have been the drivers of all the things I've seen, done, and enjoyed since coming to the Caribbean.

It really has to start with the people I got to know over the first week and a half at the marina. I already mentioned getting invited for drinks with the four with the million-dollar sailboat/yacht/lounge/cinema.

There was another from our tennis crew who stood at about 6'6” and I couldn't help but nickname Woodstock. He kept his pony-tail hair under a ball cap that had more holes in it than my tennis racket. It fit on top of his care-free head perfectly, though I think if I'd touched it it would have turned to dust.

The couple from Canada who rounded out the tennis group had mad skills on the court and if they were playing at the same Texas Hold-em table would rob you blind before turning on each other. Being cruisers and therefore minimalists by default, they catch most of their diet when they're underway. But regular fishing isn't they're style. They catch their food by spear-fishing with Hawaiian slings.

One of the constants at the marina was the guy everyone's probably seen in a movie somewhere, typical if you even call it that, the one with the slightly southern accent who might be at the bar, might be watching t.v. in the lounge, might be coming out of the bano or just walking around aimlessly, but always has a knack for popping up wherever and whenever you are, and always with a lesson or a story to tell. Who can't love a guy who's flown choppers over Vietnam, ran intelligence from East Germany, married a Brazilian and still offers to take you in his dinghy up to a local hotspot to meet the owner's beautiful daughter?

The night before we headed out, the yacht next to ours was having a little party, which of course we were invited on board for after getting back from dinner. While my aunt and uncle decided to pack it in, I was more than willing to step over to the dark side. Here I met a whole new parade of wonders, not least of which was the captain. This man was such a genius in the DIY category that he had designed a hard roof for their boat, took pure pleasure in the red carpet he had installed in his engine room, and most importantly of all, built a self-dispensing beer cooler above their freezer. Woodstock was in attendance with his wife who was nearly as tall as him. An anesthesiologist who was quite inebriated was able to (multiple times) pinball herself seemingly on accident off of at least two people and safely into a chair. The captain told us each seat was thus strategically placed since they have so many parties on board. Lastly was a spitting image of Captain Barbossa from Pirates of the Caribbean, who insisted on standing on the very stern of the ship and threatening to fall backward multiple times. Like any proper sailor, he never lost his footing no matter how much he teetered and swayed, and I realized later that his proximity to the rear of the boat was directly related to a slightly impaired bladder control. This was the man who was apparently responsible for the Dr. Pepper advertisement of the 1970's that propelled the soda to national popularity.

When we finally cut loose from our mooring at Marina Catamaran in the morning of Saturday the third, there were many goodbyes and promises of staying in touch. One thing about cruisers is that they all have boat cards which they pass around, and they all seem to run into each other quite frequently (apparently the seven seas are still part of a small world). But we had at least five other cruisers there at our dock, helping us push off, like there was nothing in the world they'd rather be doing than helping their friends off, and it became quite a momentous occasion.

I got the feeling that they had all been in that same position before. After all, with any large heavy moving object, it's easy to hit something, so the more eyes and hands, the better. Still, I was amazed at the ease of it all. How easy these people come to aid one another, how easy they smile, how easy they party; how easy they share the fantastic stories of how they came to be where they are, which were often not so easy. These people are and were hard workers, integral parts of society, game-makers and game-changers. Not one of them were idle in their lives; if they had been, they wouldn't have been able to afford their seemingly idle lives now. But of course, even these lives are far from idle, for they are filled with taming waters, constantly fixing things, meeting new people, and making it fun. I expected to meet people who were running away, who lived on their boats because they disagreed with the politics or culture or common life they had left behind. Not so. These people are the A-type personalities, the ones who get stuff done and got stuff done, who knew what they wanted and knew how to get it: they knew how to succeed. And here I find them all bunched together in one place? And in a tropical place? What a ride.

Happy trails, smooth sailing, smile big, buy someone a drink, do what you love and make it look easy, especially when it isn't.