It was Sunday. In the islands, nothing much happens except religious services on Sundays. We decided to dinghy into the government dock and get some water. Once there, we thought we would walk up to the laundry to see if there was a sign posting hours. As we walked up, I could see that there was no sign but a gent named Edwin sitting under a nearby tree indicated that despite the closed doors, the Laundromat was open. We thanked him and headed inside.
We were happy to see Ida who explained that the tank had just been taken to Staniel Cay that morning by Santos but that Isles General (the only vendor of propane) was closed on Sundays so we wouldn’t get the tank back until Monday afternoon. We explained to Ida that weather was coming and we needed to move but were going past Staniel…would we be able to pick it up ourselves? She said we could and asked that we contact her when we had successfully undertaken the transaction.
As we left, I engaged Edwin, who was still sitting under the Sapodilla tree, in a conversation about the fruit. They were remarkably larger than any I had seen. Dilly fruit is a local fruit. The tree bears fruit twice yearly and they were in full harvest right now. At first glance it looks like a kiwi with a brown and furry exterior. The flesh resembles a pear with brown sugar undertones…or so I had been told since we had never successfully ripened and consumed one. Locals apparently make jams, crumbles and cakes from the fruit. Edwin jumped up and began climbing the tree to give us some fruit. He told me to put them in a paper bag and they would ripen in a few days. Hopefully, I will have a favourable ‘dilly’ tasting to report in the future.
Monday morning, at my urging, Ken contacted Isles General and discovered that in fact, they had filled the tank and it had been sent back to the Staniel Cay Yacht Club where we could retrieve it. We dinghied in to lunch at the Yacht Club then scavenge some groceries and do a little walk-about. When we arrived, Ken spotted our tank sitting outside, beside a building. When he picked it up, it felt very light. Concerned, he found Santos at the Airport kiosk but was assured that the tank had been filled. Mission accomplished…after four ‘short’ days, we finally had a full tank of propane. Oh, happy day!
The pursuit of propane…just one of the many enchanting aspects of “Livin’ the Dream”.