A Lister A-Hole
22 March 2012 | Marsh Harbor, Abaco
Kevin / Sunny 80 degrees
Today is Wednesday, March 7th, and Dorothy and I have been hunkered down behind Lee Stocking Island for the past three days. We’re anchored about 150 feet from the Perry Institute for Marine Science’s Caribbean Marine Research Center, in a small cove that is well protected from the wind, with one other boat. Quite a change from the anchorage in George Town, where we had 250 other boats in the harbor to keep us company.
The sail up here was terrific, with 15 - 23 knot winds on our rear quarter. In sailing nomenclature, we were on a broad reach, and Foolish Heart was in her glory. With only the mainsail up, we averaged between 6 to 8 knots without breaking a sweat. The 25 mile sail took only a few hours, and we were anchored early enough to do some snorkeling around the cove, then were treated to another beautiful sunset. Around 8pm the winds piped up, and we’ve been listening to them howl ever since. While it is a little bumpy in the anchorage here, just a quarter mile on the other side of the island, there are 15 foot waves and larger out in the Atlantic.
It’s sheltered enough here where we can get into the dingy, make the short hop to land and do some walk-a-bouts. There are a few miles of hiking trails here, some incredible beaches, and we have them all to ourselves. We hiked up to Perry’s Peak on Monday, the highest point in the Exumas at 123 feet. It doesn’t sound like much, but the view from the top is outstanding.
While on the boat waiting for the winds to subside, I’ve been transferring video footage from my small Canon HD camcorder to the external hard drive I brought along. There are about 6 to 7 hundred individual clips on that camera, and I have to log and name each one as the transfer is made. For a video camera that cost only around $1000 bucks, the images are amazing. Technology really is running amuck - this thing looks better than cameras I was using 10 years ago that cost over 50 thousand dollars and more!
I’ve also been reading a lot. I’ve always read, but mostly magazines. Now I’m using Dorothy’s Kindle, and we have over 5000 books on my computer to choose from. Currently I’m reading Keith Richard’s book, LIFE.
Now that I have some time on my hands, I can write about some of the events that occurred while on the way down through the Exumas in the past couple of months...
One of my favorite stories is my close encounter with a Hollywood A-lister, that transpired while we were at Sampson Cay back on January 23rd.
Now let me say this first about celebrities. For the most part, I could care less. It just kind of surprises me when I find myself occupying (more or less) the same piece of real estate as someone I’ve seen on television or the movies over the years. I find most of them self-obsessed jerks, and really I can’t think of any off the top of my head that I would just love to have dinner with.
When I was in Aspen Colorado back in 1982, I was walking up the stairway in the Hotel Continental, when I ran into Sonny Bono from Sonny and Cher fame. He said hello to me, I responded back, and I remember having a very nice conversation with him for 3 to 5 minutes about skiing. Nice guy. I was amazed he had talked to me.
On my birthday a couple of years ago, Dorothy and I were in Solomon’s Island at the Tiki Bar when I spotted Drew Barrymore at the table next to us. I didn’t do anything stupid like going up to her and gushing about how much I liked her in E.T., but still, it was Solomon’s Island for cryin’ out loud! I just didn’t expect HER, THERE.
Three years ago in Las Vegas I had been the Best Man in a wedding for a friend of mine, Olivier Kumjian, at Caesars Palace. I was walking quickly across the casino back to the Bellagio to change out of my suit when I ran full speed into actress Tara Reid. True, she’s no A-lister, but still, I was surprised and amazed that for that moment in time we occupied the same real estate. She was very nice considering I had almost knocked her to the casino floor. OK, granted, It was Vegas. I could have run into anybody...
So it is with this ambivalence to celebrity that I humbly submit the following chain of events.
It was January 23rd, and Dorothy and I had just pulled up to Samson Cay and anchored about 100 yards off of the beach. Samson Cay is mostly a private island, but there is a very sheltered marina there on a adjacent island which is separated by Samson Cay by a very narrow cut of maybe 50 or 60 feet.
We were ready to check into a marina for a night but decided to stay on the hook for the evening, since it was already late afternoon and by checking in the next morning we would get the most bang for our buck. It was going to cost about 250 bucks to stay at that place - we wanted a full day.
The next morning, we launched the dingy so I could zip into the place to check out the facilities and docks ahead of time. The wind was blowing pretty hard, and it’s nice to know what you’re getting yourself into before you start maneuvering around other boats that cost 10 to 100 times more than yours. (really!) So I took off towards the cut in Heart Beat, (that’s what we call the dingy now) and as I got to within maybe 200 feet of that very narrow opening, here comes a yacht tender going at least 30 to 40 miles an hour through it. By the way, the cut is considered a no-wake zone where you are supposed to operate your vessel at a minimal speed. So here comes Captain Nitwit like a bat out of Hell and I’m in his way. I steered Heart Beat to starboard so as to give the fool some room and he looks right at me as he passes.
Now if I were back in the Chesapeake out for the weekend, I’d probably still be in my type A mode, and probably would have let him know he was number one. But hey, I was in the Bahamas mon! So I flashed a big smile and gave Captain No Brains the wave. We were so close as we passed I could see the whites of his eyes. Did Captain No Class wave back? No! He gave me a quick scowl and motored by with his wife and small child like I was in HIS way!
Now, no matter if it is true or not, I like to think Charlie and Jackie imparted a certain amount of class to me as I was growing up, so I try to live up to that when possible. So even though I recognized Mr A-Lister, I shall refrain from tipping off his identity, because I think everyone deserves to be treated with respect, to be left alone to enjoy their time away from the spotlight, in private.
Now let me say this, Mr Improbable could have Had Me With Hello. All he had to do was to wave back, and I wouldn’t be writing this now. But I guess he felt like he had to get away from all the rift-raft at that high price marina before anyone recognized he and his child bride, lest the paparazzi descend upon the central Exumas like Grant taking Atlanta. I feel he could have avoided all this if he had only donned a clever disguise, maybe a set of those big thick black glasses with the fake nose and bushy mustache.
But I guess when you’re a Hollywood A-Lister, it’s OK to endanger other people when you’re trying to stay anonymous. But I digress.
So we pilot Foolish Heart into a nice comfy slip at the Sampson Cay Marina and enjoy the next 24 hours with unlimited showers, a great restaurant, fully stocked bar, and a nice store to reprovision. The next morning, I’m walking to the showers which are very close to the cut between the two islands... and here comes king of the couch jumpers, in the yacht tender, wife and child, going like they just robbed a bank. Risky Business, indeed!
So I’ve got to admit it, I’m thinking to myself if this twit blasts through that cut again the next morning, and I’m sitting there with one of the 3 High Definition video cameras I have with me, and my Nikon, I could probably score big with TMZ and the National Enquirer. I could probably make more money in 5 minutes than the best month of producing and shooting video I’ve had in the past 25 years. But the voice of my Mom and Dad echo through my head and I realize it wouldn’t be a very classy thing to do. So we pay our $250 marina bill, and sail south.
Fast forward about a week or so, and Dorothy and I are anchored off Big Majors Spot, and decide to have a little picnic on the beach. About 2 hours later some of the crews of the other sailboats in the anchorage join us on the beach for sundowners. Then a couple of power boaters from fairly big yachts join in the festivities. After some time we find ourselves alone with the power boat bunch, and I’ll admit it, I’ve had a few rum drinks, so I decide to tell my Sampson Cay Captain Twit story. As I finish my story, mind you I’ve explained to them that I DIDN’T attempt to profit from the experience - one woman from a multi-million yacht looks at me with contempt and blurts out, “You’re going to ruin it for everyone!” Well I’m back peddling, and and apologizing and well feeling pretty embarrassed about the whole thing. Wait a minute! I didn’t do a thing! HE was the A-Hole!
Well, I guess the gap between power boaters and blow boaters does exist, even in paradise. We excused ourselves and motored back to Foolish Heart feeling a bit put out. Oh well, my Mom and Dad would be proud.
NOTE: I’m posting this on March 22 - the first time I’ve had internet access in weeks!