Page 16 of Escape To Paradise
Our itinerary was three days in St. Lucia, then four days in St. Vincent, and the Grenadines, where we picked up the next round of guests and resupply.
For the first three days, I had motion sickness and had to take a pill. It helped a bit, but what really helped me was getting busy. I was good at ignoring physical pain and discomfort when working; it was part of the reason I could run my restaurant well.
Following another chef’s meal plan and menu took getting used to. But with a little tweak here and there, I made it work. I had to cook three meals and two snacks—an afternoon snack and an evening snack. Zofia was somewhat of a wine expert and knew how to pair my meals with the right type of wine. Kathleen was efficient at her work. She was a good sous-chef, and we worked well together.
The guests were not picky with their food, which I was grateful for. Only one wanted an all-vegan, gluten-free menu. But most of them ate whatever we served them. The evening snacks, I figured, depended on the guest. Some wanted ice cream sundaes at midnight, and some just wanted a slice of cake. I didn’t really mind serving guests a midnight snack if they wanted. I was enjoying preparing meals for them.
My first charter went on without a hitch. I was used to the 7-day schedule. When I was running my business, I didn’t really have a rest day. On weekends, when I was supposed to be off, something would happen in my restaurant that needed my attention. Although Benoit and I helped each other with running the restaurant, being the chef and part-owner, I had more responsibilities than he had. My lawyer had suggested I get more from the partnership, but I just wanted an even fifty-fifty split, considering it was Benoit who had provided the initial capital.
Speaking of my lawyer, it was unusual that he hadn’t updated me in a while.
After a grueling 7-day nonstop work schedule, it was our turn to relax. We dropped off our guests at St. Vincent, and it was on to Grenada for three days of downtime and renewing our food stocks. We anchored at the harbor in St. George’s, Grenada’s capital. Although it was just a small country with a population of over 100,000 people, it seemed like a lively and dynamic country.
The girls and I, on the first day, spent our rest day touring Grenada. The captain and Paul stayed on the boat; their rest day just basically comprised sleeping and resting. The girls told me to wear a swimsuit underneath my shorts and T-shirts because we were going to swim almost anywhere we could swim. I packed a towel, an extra pair of shirts and shorts, and flip-flops in my small travel bag. Zofia and Kathleen had hired a rental van that would take us on a brief tour of the island.
Our first order of the day was to go to Fort George, which was overlooking the harbor. On top of the fort, you have an unobstructed view of the island, the shore, and its buildings. It was the highest point on the island and was a good lookout for incoming and outgoing ships. A gentle breeze swept across the fort. The girls took a lot of selfies, and they convinced me to take some with them by the cannons. It was tacky, but I did it with them anyway.
Our next stop was Annandale Falls, which was just less than an hour away from the fort. It was a thirty-foot-high falls in the middle of the forest. Thick greenery surrounded us. Many tropical plants flourished in this area of land. Once Zofia and Kathleen saw the falls, they immediately dropped their bags, wrapped their cellphones in a Ziplock bag, and jumped into the water and swam under the waterfalls. It took me a while to catch up to them, as I was afraid of jumping in the water without assessing how deep it was. I wasn’t the strongest swimmer, and I hadn’t swum in years, so I wasn’t used to swimming against a strong current. The girls seemed to have reached the bottom quickly. When I caught up with them, they were all smiles. Their energy was infectious.
We stayed at the waterfalls for almost two hours until it was time to move on to the next destination—the Rum Distillers, with rum toasting. I wasn’t a rum person, but Benoit was. Benoit studied how to mix cocktails and was a bartender at his previous restaurant. The thought of Benoit and Mariana together made me feel uneasy. I couldn’t shake off the image of seeing them together at the bar of La Gourmandize. The image of Benoit touching her skin and gifting her with a necklace was seared into my mind. Along with that image was the sharp pain of Benoit’s infidelity. My heart started hurting again, and I could feel my eyes watering from the pain.
During this time, Zofia handed me a glass of rum; I downed it quickly. Then I took another shot, then another. After three shots, the pain seemed to disappear, but I also started getting tipsy.
“Harper, you don’t have a lot of tolerance for alcohol. That wasn’t a lot of rum,” Zofia said.
“I’m a lightweight.” I was feeling warm and giddy.
Kathleen handed me another shot of rum, but Zofia stopped her. “Don’t give her anymore. We still need to go swimming. Let’s reserve it for tonight. We’ll go to a bar.”
Kathleen nodded and said,” Good idea.”
Our last sightseeing tour was on Grand Anse Beach. It was a white sand beach that stretched for a few miles. It had sparkling, clear turquoise waters. We put on our damp bathing suits and jumped into the crystal-clear waters. The wonderful thing about the Caribbean was that the water temperature stayed warm and wasn’t a shock to the system.
We swam until sunset. Then, we sat by the shore as we watched the sunset. Today was complete, in a way. I was able to view the sunrise and the sunset, something I had never done before since I was always focusing on my business. But now, all I cared about was spending time with the girls and watching the sunset.
“I’m hungry. Let’s go to a bar and get something to eat,” Zofia recommended.
We found a place to change into dry clothes. The girls googled a nearby bar.
“We may have a long day ahead tomorrow. Let’s go back to the boat by midnight at the very least.” I pointed to my watch.
“You’re no fun, Harper. You’re like an old lady. The captain doesn’t mind. We can do whatever we want. And it’s our rest day. Tomorrow, we’ll just have a lazy day and do nothing.” Kathleen stretched her arms and yawned.
“See, you girls are getting tired,” I said.
Zofia stood in the middle and linked arms with me and Kathleen. “We’re going to that random bar over there called The Flamingo, and we’re going to have fun.”
I looked at the Google rating, and the place was sketchy. “It has a rating of 4.0, that’s not very good.”
“As long as it doesn’t have any food poisoning warnings, then we should be good,” Zofia said.
We walked into the bar, and there were around ten people inside. It was a simple bar with two servers and a bartender. The servers were local, one woman and one man, but the bartender was a Caucasian man.
The girls and I sat by the bar and ordered a cocktail. The bartender, the Caucasian man, and I made brief eye contact, and he smiled at me. I didn’t smile back.
“Hey there, ladies, my name is Maverick.” He extended his hand. “And your name is?” he asked, staring at me. He had this air of overconfidence about him.
Maverick was not tall, maybe only a few inches taller than me. Sporting a tan, he was wearing a white shirt. He had light brown hair, green eyes, and a full facial beard.
