Inspiring Women Winter 2017

Then a girlfriend of mine went to Cannes
with her boyfriend and suggested that I
come with them. I was more than
happy to leave the UK, though, as my
goal in life was NOT to live my mother’s
life. In France I managed to get a
weekend-only job. Here I was taught to
make ratatouille and fish soup. It was
great soup with fresh cream and garlic
and green beans and lots more. This was
all quite amazing to my English taste
buds and thus began my love of food,
cooking, eating and, of course, wine!
When I started my first charter job in the
south of France, I bought a very large,
very serious cookbook. It was invaluable
to me. We spent time sailing up the
“Independence Day”
Italian coast buying asparagus,
strawberries, fresh bread, cheese and,
naturally, wine. My charter guests (especially the Italians) taught me how to make pasta,
stuffed peppers and ratatouille, although I had already nailed that, thanks to my French boss!
At the start, I couldn’t sail or cook, but I learned very quickly and, to cut a long story short, in 2
years I gravitated from crew to wife. My husband wanted to return to the Caribbean, so we
sailed to Barbados where, on Christmas Day 1970, I put my feet in the sand, was handed a
rum punch and a Rasta danced with me. I was sold; I was never leaving the Caribbean. From
Barbados we sailed first to Grenada, then up the island chain to Antigua.
Antigua became our base and it was always my favorite island. In 1975 I “jumped ship” and
got divorced. I met my second husband, who was born in Antigua, and we got married in
1980. I had our daughter a year later and started running a restaurant at a small hotel. We
brought Dawn up on the beach. It was an unforgettable time. I painted and put my works up
on the walls and sold them, when I had time.
Between a baby and a restaurant and two teenage stepsons, there wasn’t much left over.
We opened a restaurant nightclub in
town in 1989. On the surface, it
appeared to be very successful,
however, my husband wouldn’t admit
that we were losing money. I left him in
1994; he was another bully. Some of us
do indeed marry our fathers, don’t we!
At this point, I had to do what I knew the
best to earn money to support my
daughter - the restaurant business.
My husband died in 1999 and left me
with some serious debt. I lost my house
and the business, but I still had a
daughter to finish raising, so I moved to a
small apartment, and sent my now 17-
year-old daughter, to the UK to live with
family for a while.
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