A Quiet Day in Paradise

Day 1 – Saturday. Up at the crack of dawn, Lindsay’s parents give us a lift to
the airport – two cars in view of the amount of luggage. Lindsay’s ticket still
hasn’t arrived but we have been assured by Virgin (three times on the ‘phone
and twice by e-mail) that it is not a problem. Don’t be surprised to find that the
advice was entirely wrong. We arrive at check-in desk to be told we need to get
a ticket, furthermore we are told that my open ticket is not appropriate to go to
Antigua and that it has to have a six month limit (not true as it turned out). To
sort these problems requires going to another desk. At the other desk I am
informed that Lindsay has only a one-way ticket whilst mine is a return. I have
to pay another £600 to convert hers to a return (fortunately refundable).
Returning to the check-in desk with our luggage we are then informed that
although we are just within our 90 kilo each weight limit the rules have changed.
No single bag can be over 32 kilos. (We are using a bag in which I had taken a
spare mainsail to Antigua last year and then the bag weighed 39 kilos – It now
weighs 49 kilos but it does contain Lindsay’s clothes). Apparently, this is a
Health & Safety Rule. Baggage handlers are no longer allowed to lift anything
over 32 kilos. If a 57 year old twelve and a half stone weakling - me - can lift
49 kilos (with difficulty) why can’t a young, strapping and fit baggage handler.
This must be a constant problem because conveniently nearby is a bag shop
which meant we had the indignity of unpacking half of one bag and placing
some of the contents into the new one in the middle of the airport. Lindsay
denies that they were all her clothes but, then, everyone knows what a woman’s
wardrobe is like.
Apart from the extra baggage weight limit, one of the advantages of not flying
‘cattle class’ is that you get off the aircraft first and we are at the head of the
queue at Immigration (only superseded for its lack of speed by US Immigration).
Two of our bags are numbers one and three on the conveyor and the other two
follow shortly. Having landed at 2 (local time) we are installed in the Copper &
Lumber by three. For those who don’t know the Copper & Lumber, it is a large
stone, vaguely Georgian building formerly a copper and timber store converted
into a rather stately hotel which might have seemed appropriate in a Terrance
Rattigan play or Graeme Green novel, now somewhat faded.
Graeme Knott’s boat, a 43 foot catamaran, which replaced his Swan, is a
stone’s throw from the quay so it is on board for a few glasses of wine and then
on to the Tot Club. (Again for those who are not aware – the Royal Naval Tot
Club of Antigua & Barbuda is a club which meets at six every night for a tot of
rum. I have been a member since 2000. The Sunday Telegraph Magazine
once rated the club as the world's second most prestigious). Tot members are
then invited to two parties at the north end of the island and a 14 seat mini-bus
is organised plus cars. Lindsay and I are unsure whether or not to go having
been up for 19 hours and with the certainty of another 5 ahead of us if we go to
the parties. We are persuaded, which is fine at the first party but at the second
we are obviously not welcome. It appears to be invitation only. Now stuck on
the north end of the island with no means of getting back we just have to tough

it out and, as soon as the mini-bus returned, we beat a hasty retreat and crash
out on the back seat.
BEFORE THE BEGINNING
In May 2005 my wife and I sold up in the U.K. and moved to Antigua. Our
connection with Antigua had gone back a number of years, in fact, some time
before we ever visited the island. Shortly after our arrival on the island I started
keeping a diary.
In 1992 I was approached by a charity for the blind, Sightseekers, and asked if I
knew of anyone who would lend them a yacht for a blind helmsman to take part
in the Atlantic Rally for Cruisers (ARC). As it happened a friend, Graeme Knott,
had just bought Lord Olivier’s house in Brighton and it needed a lot of
renovation. He laid up his yacht, a Sigma 38, for a year whilst he carried out
the renovations. He readily agreed to lend the yacht to the charity. The ARC
runs from the Canaries to St. Lucia. No fault of the blind helmsman but the
yacht ended up in Antigua. The charity offered to have it shipped to the U.K. or
fly people out to sail it back. Graeme’s crew suggested it be left in Antigua for
the annual Antigua Sailing Week regatta.
Graeme subsequently did several Sailing Weeks and was very successful. I
was due to join him in 1996 but business commitments managed to get in the
way. Eventually, I chartered a yacht, another Sigma 38, in 1998 and did Sailing
Week. My wife, Lindsay, accompanied me but didn’t take part in the sailing.
We returned to Antigua in 2000 for Sailing Week and I crewed on Graeme’s
new yacht, a Swan 43. Thereafter, Lindsay and I returned to Antigua every
year for Christmas and New Year. In 2003 I was planning my yacht racing
campaign for 2004 with my crew when one of them suggested we did Sailing
Week. I commented that the only way we would do well would be if we took my
yacht, then a Sigma 400. I arranged for a friend and a crew to take the yacht on
the ARC at the end of 2003 and Lindsay and I met the boat in Antigua on 19 th
December. The boat was stored ashore until we were ready for it in April.
Having taken part in Sailing Week 2004 in which we did quite well, winning our
class and Best British Boat overall, another crew returned to yacht to the U.K..
In the latter part of 2004 I was trawling through the internet and saw a 43 foot
yacht for sale in English Harbour, Antigua. It seemed like good value for money
and I considered purchasing it as something I could use for Sailing Week and
stay on over Christmas and New Year. We were going to Antigua for Christmas
so I arranged to view the boat. Coincidentally, a couple of weeks before
Christmas I received an approach from a company which wanted to buy my
main U.K. business.

On arrival in Antigua we visited the boat only to discover that it was in a state of
complete disrepair and was, in reality, worth nothing. Talking with the broker,
we spoke of our plans to move, one day, to Antigua. I mentioned that I did not
want to do nothing and be in danger of becoming ‘a drunken beach bum’. I
would like to buy a small business to keep myself occupied. This broker
introduced us to another broker who offered us a variety of businesses, all but
two of which were in the leisure or catering industry and were of no interest. I
did not want to be working when others were ‘playing’. Of the other two
businesses, I preferred the marine electronics company. I ought to mention that
my wife and I had discussed the possibility of ‘retiring’ to Antigua. She called it
our ‘5 year plan’. We were about ten minutes into it.
On returning to the U.K. I negotiated a sale of my main business and all other
assets and made an offer of the asking price for the marine electronics
company. Surprisingly, I was turned down, not because of the price but
because of my perceived lack of knowledge of marine electronics. I found this
most perplexing as that was, surely, my problem, not the vendors. I had a share
in an electronics company in the U.K. and was quite 'hands on'. After over two
months of negotiation I flew to Antigua for ten days to try to resolve the problem
and, at the same time, rent a house. Nine days later I was no further ahead and
on the tenth day I decided to look at the other business for sale, a publishing
company. I had started and published a newspaper and a magazine in the U.K.
so the business was not unfamiliar to me. Within two hours I had tied up a deal
but it meant I had to rent an office. An hour or so later I had achieved that as
well and I was on the afternoon flight back to the U.K..
May 7 th 2005 was the day we had picked to leave the U.K. and settle in Antigua.
A few days later I started my diary which came about because Lindsay
suggested it was about time we sent some e-mails and it seemed easier to type
up a short diary of events to date, put it on disk and take it to the local Internet
café to send to everyone. (As yet we didn’t have an Internet connection at
home also, some of our e-mail addresses were stored on a PC which was
somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic, so I asked friends and family to pass
on my jottings to anyone who might be interested).
Since moving to Antigua many people have asked ‘Why?’ or have suggested it
was a brave thing to do. It was not brave and the reason ‘Why’ is easy, we
wanted our freedom back, the freedom stolen by European Union regulations
and the Labour Government then in power in the U.K..
To be honest, it was more complicated. I had started my first business, an
estate agency, in March 1973 and after nearly 32 years I was bored as well as
fed up with increasing regulation and legislation. Also, despite having
weathered two previous recessions, the nineties recession almost decimated
me and after ten years of working to recover I’d had enough.

Really I should have sold out in the eighties when I had the chance. Then I was
turning over £3.5 million per annum, had an offer for the estate agency of £1.75
million which I refused. I had four other businesses, a newspaper
(subsequently sold for nearly half a million but shared with others and the bank),
a property company, an employment agency and a computer software
company. Before the 90’s recession I employed over 40 people and after, only
six. I did, unsuccessfully, have another go at publishing and also invested in
and managed a specialist computer firmware company which still owes me
more money than I put into it. After ten years of battling to get back to a
reasonable standard I felt I had sufficient to retire especially with some annuities
and other policies maturing within a few years. It was easy. The U.K. was
strangling us and Antigua beckoned.
Day 2 – Sunday. The Police station is open and are able to get our temporary
driving licences and, therefore, hire a car. John Burton will love this, it’s a
Suzuki Jeep. Admittedly the long wheelbase, V6 version but still a Suzuki and it
seems as thought it’s powered by two elastic bands one of which is broken.
John Burton, who has sailed with me on and off for a number of years is a burly
6’3 policeman who owns a Suzuki Jimny - highly inappropriate for his size. Not
being able to do much on a Sunday we go for a bit of a drive and I show
Lindsay where she will be living for the next year or so. Despite my brilliant
photography the house was not quite as she expected, being somewhat larger
and she still can’t stop looking at the breathtaking views.
Day 3 – Monday and it’s a Bank Holiday. The Bank Holiday (Labour Day)
should have been the previous weekend but it had been interrupted by the
cricket so they moved the Bank Holiday forward a weekend. It could only
happen in Antigua. Next Monday is a Bank Holiday as well (Whit Monday). We
move into the house and, fortunately, the main supermarket in St John’s (half
an hour drive away) is open. Being a new house everything is covered in
builders dust so the whole house needs cleaning plus a few things don’t work.
Where we are situated there is no mains electricity so everything runs on solar
panels and batteries. You have to be a bit careful about your electricity use. All
those sandal wearing, green environmentalists would love me. I go around the
house turning off lights, checking that the ‘phone chargers are not plugged in
and the ‘fridge is staying cool on it’s lowest setting. Amazing what a little selfinterest
does. Lindsay is convinced the house is occupied by the 114 th
Mosquito Squadron. She knows it’s the 114 th because that’s the number of
bites she has.
I’m asked if I would do the equivalent job at the Antigua Yacht Club as Rear
Commodore Racing at Brighton (can’t remember the Antiguan title). Graeme is
no help, telling them I am ideally suited to the job. I also receive an offer a race
on a Swan 37 and agree to accept if I can helm. After some debate I am to be
allowed some upwind and all the downwind helming.

Day 4 – Tuesday, a working day, we can get some things done, or so we think.
We make a list and then another and then add things we have forgotten.
Possibly most important are a few pots and pans. Although the house is
furnished, it is a bit sparse. Last night I cooked a curry using a saucepan not
much bigger than a tea cup for the curry and a coffee pot for the rice.
Our list comprises visiting the bank (one and a half hours), getting contents
insurance (unsuccessful at the first visit – they wanted photos of our goods and
chattels), then buying all kinds of bits a pieces (semi-successful), looking for
office furniture and car hunting. The new office is ready but the rest of the
development is a bit of a building site and the office door has no lock so we
purchase a nice, sophisticated lock except it will not fit. I reckon a little
modification with a hacksaw and we will be okay. There are probably numerous
other things but I struggle to remember them all.
One of the problems with producing a list when you don’t know St John’s
intimately is that the list is in a different order from the order in which you
encounter the shops/banks/garages, etc.. Unless you are very diligent things
get (did get) missed and a new list, with additions, gets written and you start the
whole merry-go-round again.
There is no point in trying to drive around St John’s. You find a parking space
and walk. We always seem to get the same space. Obviously, no one else
wants it as it is so far from everywhere and you end up walking miles. Even
Lindsay is beginning to complain her feet hurt so you can imagine what it’s like
for me who requires a taxi if I park more than two foot from the kerb. Having
brought our own mobile ‘phones we need local SIM cards. To cut a long story
short, the third company we visit is able to help. A quick tour of the garages
proves that it is almost impossible to buy anything second hand unless it’s right
at the bottom end of the market. I find the perfect car for me but it was about
GB£10,000 more than I want to spend (maybe next year).
By the end of the day we are ready for a few drinks. We are entertaining
Graeme to dinner (with new pots and pans) which is just as well as my ecofriendly
approach to the ‘fridge means it had turned itself off and the meat needs
to be eaten immediately. Fortunately they have no drink driving laws out here
since I am well over the limit by the time I drive Graeme back to his boat.
Day 5 – Wednesday. We meet up with an estate agent with a view to checking
out some land near where we are living but like most things here, it’s for sale
but not just yet or it’s just been sold but the buyer hasn’t completed yet so if you
want to put in a higher offer….
Off to St. John’s again to arrange telephone lines for the office but the
telephone company don’t do broadband, we have to go elsewhere for that and
the ‘phones may be in next week, or the week after or ???. Disaster, my mobile
‘phone has run out of credit!!!!. It’s Pay As You Go in Antigua unless you have

a local credit card – something else to be sorted with the bank. We horrify the
guy in the ‘phone shop by asking for EC$500 for my ‘phone and EC$200 for
Lindsay’s. He immediately gives us forms for credit accounts plus free T-Shirts
and a calculator each.
We look at more office furniture, buy a few more things and then go back to
English Harbour to pick up Graeme to take him to the airport (near St. John’s).
Whilst there we check our post box. Three letters, one addressed to the person
who has the post box next to ours, a receipt for our U.K. gas bill and a letter
from my youngest sister who still hasn’t mastered e-mail.
The local newspaper has three cars for sale, a Land Rover Discovery which I
had already seen in March and which is silly money, a Toyota MR2, nice but
would never get to the house and a Kia Sportage, a small 4 x 4 which might suit
Lindsay. We have a look and are still considering it.
Time for another drink and bed. We are falling asleep by about 9 which is fine
for Lindsay who can’t manage on about less than 12 hours a day but I am
waking up with the dawn at about 5.30.
Hot water – at last. I hate cold showers although Lindsay does wonder how I
am the only person in the tropics who can steam up a bathroom.
Day 6 – Thursday. 9.30 appointment with the furniture shop and, having
negotiated a suitable discount, he wants cash. It doesn’t really matter since we
need to go to the bank again to collect cheque books, PIN numbers and
applications for credit cards.
Almost next door to the furniture shop is the Land Rover dealer where we have
a 10 o’clock appointment for a test drive of a Freelander V6. Not impressed.
On the way to the bank we stop at the insurance company with photos. The
only problem is that they are on a digital camera and the bits to download the
photos are on the high seas. The insurance company relent and give us cover
anyway. I hand over my Barclays Premier card and it is rejected, three times.
A call to Barclays (U.K.) using many of my precious Pay As You Go credits,
reveals that as a result of an unusual spending pattern they suspect fraud and
have blocked the card despite the fact that they are aware we have moved to
Antigua and have our address and telephone numbers. Barclays tell me to wait
fifteen minutes and the card will be reactivated. It gives us time to go to the
bank.
After returning to the insurance company, going to pay for the office furniture
(being delivered Tuesday, hopefully) we set off car hunting again. The first test
driving is a Kia Sorrento (I know – a KIA!!!). Very popular out here, a spacious
3.5 litre off-roader. Not bad, marginally better than the Freelander and a lot
cheaper. Next and last, a Nissan Pathfinder. On the way we stop at a

hardware store to get some more bits and where I have seen a advert for an
Opel (Vauxhall) Corsa for Lindsay.
The Pathfinder, first class – not quite as good as the Toyota I really want but
after I have persuaded them to sell me the top of the range model for the
bottom of the range price, the saving is over GB£11,000 on the Toyota and it
has a 3.3 litre plus all the toys except reverse park. (No cars out here have
reverse park so anyone coming out please bring me a kit from Halfords before
run over some innocent pedestrians. I had become so used to reverse park in
the U.K. that I never looked behind me).
Back to the bank before they close at 2 to get a bankers draft to pay for the car
then onto the insurance company for a cover note. I hand over my card again
with some trepidation particularly since the amount is five times more than
previously. Fortunately, it goes straight though. Whilst in the insurance
company I receive a ‘phone call from someone wanting to sell a yacht, a Dehler
34. A bit smaller than I am used to but superb condition, red hulled version
which I have seen on previous visits to Antigua. I still have my Sigma 400 in the
U.K. which can come out here later in the year therefore, I am not really in the
market.
Lunch calls so we wander down to the free trade area and have what appeared
to be cheap lunch until I realise the bill is in US Dollars (I am sure that they do
that sometimes to fleece the tourists).
A call from the insurance company – I have left my credit card behind. Lindsay
sets off on foot to collect it whilst I go for the car. St. John’s is a maze of oneway
streets – easy when you are on foot but a nightmare in a car. I could see
Lindsay 400 yards away but had to circle around various blocks to get to her
with no way of telling her to stay where she was – she could see me and
wanted to walk to me not knowing I couldn’t stop in the traffic. I can’t wait to get
my hands free ‘phone installed.
Back to the Nissan garage where the car is already being prepared and to pay
and finalise the paperwork. A snag – in order to register a car in Antigua you
need an Antigua driving licence (ours are only temporary licences), in order to
get a licence you need to be a resident or have a work permit or something else
I can’t remember. None fits us. Fortunately, the system here is not very
sophisticated. I ring a friend, ask for his driving licence number and put that on
the form. I am assured it will work. We will find out tomorrow when we go to
collect the car. I try to get a decent number plate but they just come up in order.
It’s so unmemorable that I couldn’t remember it less than 24 hours later.
5 o’clock appointment with an agent to look at more land. The agent, late as
usual and although Lindsay liked the first one I am not keen. The second is
superb, almost impossible to better and, although the road is good it’s almost

vertical and quite a long way out. Also, it is another one which has “just been
sold but if you care to offer…..”
Lindsay has just discovered a good reason not to walk round the house
barefoot – a crunch underfoot reveals a squashed, 3 inch millipede.
Day 7 – Friday. With the newly purchased hacksaw in hand we go to the office
to make the modifications to the door. Everything seems to go perfectly except
the lock still doesn’t fit. Something else is in the way and that can’t be modified.
Back to the drawing board. The purchase of another bit of kit should solve that
problem. Tomorrow will tell.
Alexis (the guy from whom we are buying the publishing company which
produces the Antigua Marine Guide) meets us at the office as does the builder.
Hopefully, we shall move in on Wednesday. The good news is that the
broadband connection is already fitted and working. I will take the laptop down
and try it out.
Driving to St. John’s the ‘phone rings. My car will be ready for collection at
2.30. We have a look at the Opel (Vauxhall) Corsa for Lindsay – not bad. Back
to the bank for cash for the rent and to collect my police report (you need it to
do almost anything legal). A quick visit to the solicitor’s office and then some
lunch.
Lindsay wants to do the tourist bit and eat in Hemmingway’s Café (full of
ghastly, corpulent, elderly Yanks). I order Cajun fish soup. Three small pieces
of fish and about two million vegetables. Needless to say, I do not have much
lunch. Lindsay begins to make a pro/con list on the Corsa and the Kia.
Emotion plays a larger part than logic and she chooses the Kia because it’s a 4
x 4. We telephone the owner, make an offer which she accepts. Collection is
tomorrow.
On the way to collect my car we have a few chores at the hardware store,
electrical store and supermarket (our list is getting shorter). As we walk into
the supermarket I am accosted by a security guard. Apparently, you are not
allowed into the supermarket carrying any bags and I have our previously
purchased goods with me. I send Lindsay on alone – good result. A quick visit
to the post box – nobody loves us, not even the utility companies to whom we
owe money.
It’s now 2.30 but no confirmation from the garage and not wanting to appear to
keen we decide to go for a little drive around the north of the island which
Lindsay has not seen. A mile down the road the ‘phone rings, the car is ready.
We arrive to be told by the salesman (woman) that she is waiting for her boss to
arrive. She wants to give us a full tank of petrol rather than the usual 4 gallons
(did I overpay for the car?).

Half an hour later we are ready to go except that I have to collect the petrol
myself from a garage half a mile down the road. I pull up at the pump. How on
earth do you open the petrol cap? Three garage attendants and I spend ten
minutes trying to find the release. I want to ring the supplier but they won’t hear
of it. The users handbook is in the glove compartment but to get at it means
removing at least one of these enthusiastic attendants. Eventually the release
is discovered under the armrest on the driver’s door.
This car is a novel driving experience. The leather and wood (simulated)
interior would do justice to any Jaguar but sitting six feet above the road is a bit
unnerving and I could do with another litre or two under the bonnet.
A couple of drinks at the Tot Club and home to dinner. My turn to cook again
(this could become a bad habit). Lindsay suggests spaghetti cheese. No
grater. Lindsay says I should slice the cheese thinly. Inspiration – the potato
peeler.
Day 8 – Saturday. Knowing most places will be closed we stay in bed late and
rise at about seven. We read books for an hour or so (it’s amazing how easy it
is to do without breakfast television) – me avoiding doing something I know will
take me a few hours – installing the hands free ‘phone kit in the car.
At about eleven we wander down to English Harbour with a view to checking
out the internet connection at the office and stop at an estate agents office on
the way. As expected – closed, but the owner, Geoff Pidduck (who I first met in
London 5 years ago and whose boat I nearly T-boned when he tacked right in
front of me during Sailing Week last year) is at his desk. He unlocks the door
and lets us in telling us we have three minutes. Half an hour later we escape.
Passing the next estate agent we see his car outside. He is having a leisurely
coffee on the veranda of his office but since he is awaiting commission from the
vendor of the company we are purchasing, we are made very welcome. In the
course of our conversation he mentions a house which has just come on the
market. The details are quickly printed off the computer but the file containing
the viewing arrangements is nowhere to be seen. On paper the house looks
great but experience has taught me to mistrust estate agents and, later, when
we look at the outside of the house, my suspicions prove to be correct.
However, the building plot he offered is much more interesting.
Surprisingly, another estate agent who happens to see us looking at the plot
and who, only the day before, had nothing for sale (except something he owned
himself) comes up with a few more properties.
Driving away from the plot and my ‘phone rings in my pocket (mistake not
having installed the hands free kit plus I have just put the car into automatic 4
wheel drive due to the roughness of the terrain and steepness of the incline).
Handing the ‘phone to Lindsay to answer, she has no idea who’s ringing and

hands it back to me. Why did she think I gave it to her in the first place? I am
concentrating on not driving into the nearest ravine. It is a U.K. friend, Mike
Ormiston, ringing to give us the name of a local car dealer he happens to know.
Prior to our property visits we went to the office to try the internet connection.
Please don’t be surprised if I tell you it didn’t work. The builder was mystified
but promised to get it sorted by Tuesday.
One o’clock, time to meet the vendor of Lindsay’s car except that she now
wants to deliver it on Tuesday. She’s Italian so that must be about the
European equivalent of Antiguan.
On the way home to have lunch we stop at a local ‘supermarket’ (the nearest
shop to where we live and a bit of a shack) to collect some milk. Within this
‘tardis’ is every conceivable item including pots and pans (and a cheese grater).
The time has eventually come where I have to steel myself to install the hands
free ‘phone kit. To begin with, everything goes relatively smoothly. In fact, it is
surprisingly easy although in the afternoon sun I am dehydrating faster than
freeze dried coffee. Everything is installed with only the power supply
remaining to be connected. Unlike cars I used to work on in my teenage, there
are no obvious orifices between the engine compartment (battery) and cabin.
Fruitless searching reveals nothing. If all else fails read instructions. I had
notice in the publicity blurb before buying the car it talked about ‘power outlets’.
Anyway, I need a rest and some rehydrating fluid. Out comes the handbook.
There is a power outlet between the front seats, facing backwards (presumably
so that rear seat passengers can use their laptops on the move). Brilliant, I
could tap into the back of the socket. The only way to get to the back of the
socket was by releasing a couple of screws which necessitated the driver’s seat
being moved forward. Guess what was in the way? - the newly installed
‘phone. Okay for me but Lindsay, despite being the same height as me, is a
woman, and therefore likes to drive 6 inches closer to the steering wheel. Back
to square one. I will admit, the new position for the ‘phone is better so women
do have some uses.
Mad rush to get to the Tot Club which is being held at the Antigua Yacht Club
giving me the opportunity to collect our membership forms. Finally, to the
Admiral’s Inn for dinner, paid for by Paul & Val in the U.K.. We try not to abuse
their hospitality by picking the second most expensive items on the menu and
only one bottle of wine.
Lindsay is entirely wrong, it’s not the 114 th Mosquito Squadron. Mosquitoes
were a second world war, twin engined, two seater, fighter/bombers made of
plywood. The things attacking my ankles at the Admiral’s Inn are single seater,
highly manoeuvrable fighters with at least eight machine guns and, possibly, a
couple of 50mm cannon. I ask the waitress for a can of OFF – the equivalent of
mosquito mace. It works, I am unmolested for the rest of the meal.

On the way home we come across a very large crab attempting to cross the
road. It reminds me of the startled deer I came across in the middle of a
deserted motorway as some of the crew and I headed down to Plymouth (U.K.)
a few years ago at about 100mph in a hired Vauxhall Vectra to join the boat for
a race to Spain. A few of the crew having done the delivery of the yacht to
Plymouth for me. I recollect the problems I had deciding which way to go (as did
the deer). At one point it looked as though we might be having venison on the
menu for the trip from Plymouth to Spain. As for the crab, a loud crunch
indicates that both he and I make the wrong decision.
Day 9 - Sunday. Nothing planned, well, not quite. We are up reasonably early,
7, but only because I want to finish installing the car kit. Finally, finally, finally, I
find a route to run the power cable by which time breakfast is cold (even in this
climate). I never did manage to connect to the rear power socket. These
damned inscrutable Japanese make taking anything apart impossible. In the
end the route is between the inner and outer front wings to the battery and
following the door electrics cable into the cabin. Getting into the car an hour
later Lindsay asks if I could engage first gear with the ‘phone situated where I
had positioned it. If you don’t know the answer to that question then you
haven’t been reading what has gone on so far. I will resolve that tomorrow.
Tot Club keep fit starts at 10 on a Sunday. KEEP FIT!!! That involves exercise.
I have done it in the past (Tot Club Keep Fit, I mean, not exercise.) The Tot
Club clears historic paths, exposes old buildings, finds long forgotten graves,
etc.. If you imagine Tarzan with a machete carving a path through the jungle –
that’s me. When I last did it in March I forgot to take any water. This time, well
prepared, we take a bottle each. Insufficient. By the time we return to the
Galley Bar I look as though I have walked though a tropical thunderstorm. If
any part of me is not soaked with perspiration I defy anyone to find it.
I discover Lindsay’s 114 th Mosquito Squadron except that they are flies. A
couple of mating flies nose-dive into my beer, lack of concentration on the part
of the pilot, I guess. Definitely a twin engined flying machine.
A quick lunch and a couple of hour’s kip. (10 would have been more suitable but
we are committed to meet someone on Pigeon Beach where a party is going on
following a fishing competition). The first person we run into is Geoff Pidduck.
His persuasive skills must be greater than mine. Next Saturday Lindsay is
going racing on his boat. The last time Lindsay went sailing was when I
persuaded her to come with me across the English Channel from St. Malo to
Brighton. Even I will admit it was a horrible trip. She swore she would never set
foot on a yacht again.
Not unsurprisingly, the person we are due to meet doesn’t turn up but we do
see a few other people including a girl called Roz who I thought I recognised
from somewhere. She eventually approaches us and it transpires she used to

sail out of Brighton on a boat called Miraggio with Nick Platt. It also seems that
Nick is a friend of our landlord, Sandy Mair.
I spot another guy I’d had a brief conversation with in March about a plot
overlooking English Harbour. We have a chat and, he giving me his card, he
suggests I ring him when he is a little more sober.
The party holding nothing more for us and in danger of getting really drunk on
the size of drinks being poured (only had two and already feel worse for wear),
Lindsay and I go for a drive to look at the various plots we know might be
available around English Harbour. We still like our original choice and propose
to ask the agent if the vendor will reconsider his decision to take it off the
market.
Just time for the Tot Club and a roast dinner at ‘Life’ (a bar/restaurant which is
built over the water in English Harbour). Connie and Terry (an extremely nice
couple we have known since 2000) ask us to join them for the roast dinner. It
makes for a very pleasant end to a more relaxed day and, I never thought I’d
hear myself saying this, thank God tomorrow is a Bank Holiday.
Day 10 – Bank Holiday Monday, again. A very lazy start to the day, not getting
up until after eight. I reposition the car ‘phone to enable me to select first gear.
Everything is clearer and easier after a good night’s sleep. It only took about 30
seconds by just altering the angle of the cradle. Mid-morning we made our way
to the car hire company in Falmouth to arrange the return of the Suzuki and to
try to persuade the owner to take an advert in the Antigua Marine Guide. He’s
not in.
The only internet café in Falmouth has all its terminals occupied so we stop for
a coffee and try to sort out my U.K. ‘phone which insists on connecting to my
answering service rather than my message service. Eventually, connected
there are three messages, one from me trying to sort my ‘phone out, one from
O2, rather puzzled by my new billing address in Antigua and one from
Boatscrubber in the U.K. telling me my yacht is booked in for a hull scrub. I ring
John Burton who has agreed to look after the boat in my absence and ask him
to contact Boatscrubber.
I also take the opportunity to ring our solicitor in the U.K. to find out how the sale
is going on the only remaining property we have in the U.K., the others having
been sold before we left. We don’t need the money yet but it would be nice to
know it has completed.
Having had a conversation a few days ago with Mike Briggs, the new owner of
the restaurant, Calabash, on Galleon Beach, regarding advertising in the Marine
Guide, we decide to try for our first sale and succeed.

With not much else to do we head back to the house for lunch to find our
landlord connecting up a generator to our power supply. The day has been
pretty overcast so he is concerned that our solar panels will not be topping up
the batteries. Time for a siesta but first I move the laptop to the veranda for
Lindsay to check out the instructions for her new camera. I awake two hours
later to discover Lindsay has slept on the veranda and not yet looked at the CD.
We decide we can’t be bothered to go to the Tot and have a quiet evening at
home.
Having finished my book and the remainder still in packing cases at sea, I am
forced to resort to reading one of Lindsay’s. It’s by Patricia Cornwell. After 10
pages I put it down in disgust. There must be some skill to becoming a
successful author that has absolutely nothing to do with writing ability.
Day 11 – Tuesday. The day really started in the early hours of the morning.
Rain had been fairly persistent during the previous evening and night which
brought out the mossies in force. For the first few days I had given the bedroom
a good spraying with insect killer before going to bed. Lindsay rather objected
to the smell so I stopped, leaving her to give the room a few ineffectual squirts.
Waking up in the night to an air armada of biting insects I had visions of the
vicious little creatures swerving their way through an inadequate number of
molecules of anti-insect spray rather like fighters avoiding anti-aircraft fire.
What they really need is a good blast like the radiation from a nuclear bomb.
Looking out of the window I see one advantage to the rain (apart from filling our
water storage tanks). It has cleaned my car. Part of the roadway to the house
is unmade but relatively smooth. The dry weather has created large amounts of
dust and the car had begun to look far from new. It now sparkles and shines
again although, I suspect, within a few hours it will be covered in mud.
First call, to return the Suzuki. The hire car company owner, Titi, is ‘off island’
for a few days. Despite the fact we are returning the car early and are not
asking for a refund on our hire charge, the girl behind the desk wants us to fill
the car with petrol. A trip to Slipway (the boat fuelling dock) completes the task.
Back at the office we try the internet connection and can’t get it to work. Simple
solution, I am using a telephone cable rather than an Ethernet cable. The office
furniture has still not arrived so we got to Calabash for lunch. Telephone the
furniture shop at 2 and I am told the furniture will be arriving at 3.30. With
nothing better to do, we go to try again to get a key to the rubbish compound.
No success.
We have been having problems with our ‘phones all day and have had to use
the U.K. ‘phones to make contact with anyone. Apparently, when it rains, the
network sometimes goes down. The answer is to have two ‘phones on different
networks. I might try that.

On to Skullduggery, a coffee shop, to waste an hour. At three I ring Alexis who
is going to be working with us for the first three months to tell him the furniture is
due in half an hour. He is in the Dockyard awaiting the arrival of a trans-Atlantic
rower. We wander down and the rower is about 100 yards off the quay with a
large crowd and a myriad of dinghies and yachts to meet him. The rower ships
his oars about 10 yards off the dock and the wind begins to drift him away
again. A helpful shove from a RIB. brought him alongside. I doubt a little help
over the last 10 yards disqualifies him.
Back to the office to meet the furnishing suppliers. 4.30, still no-one. A call to
the shop elicits an assurance that they have left and are on their way. Just after
5 they arrive. Two of them remain to assemble the furniture. I manage to
construct one of the desk chairs without instructions faster than two of them
using instructions. To be fair, the men are French and the instructions are in
English, well sort of English – American English printed in China.
By seven we have finished constructing everything and head for home, stopping
by a local supermarket for a few provisions (and a, finally, cheese grater). I pick
up a packet of what appeared to be kippers or a local version, nice for
breakfast. Lindsay tells me they are smoked eels. Not so sure about breakfast.
I came up with a good idea today, after washing the glasses don’t dry them,
place them in the freezer. They come out frosted with ice crystals.
Day 12 – Wednesday. I wake up with a sore throat, a cough and the sniffles.
Feel really rough. Wouldn’t mind too much if I’d been out on the razzle all night
but I haven’t had a drink for 48 hours. I’ve been smoking too many cigars (the
only thing to do while you wait around for others to get activated). It must be
around twenty years since I’ve had a cough or cold in that was in the miserable
U.K. climate. Here, in 30 degrees (95 in old fashioned money), I’ve got ‘flu!!!
Put a brave face on it, don’t believe any of those stories that men make bad
patients (don’t even tell Lindsay how I feel) and am in the office by 7.50 to get
things set up.
We need a few bits and pieces. A vague possibility I might get some of them
from local shops. I leave Lindsay with a mop and bucket, cloths, polish etc. to
give the office a good clean (woman’s work) and head off for the nearest store.
Closed. Who said the Antiguans started the day early? The second shop had
one item I wanted but no money in the till because they don’t open until nine.
What were they doing serving me at 8.20?
I run into Alexis (I had been planning to ring him but didn’t know what time
would be too early). ‘Phones are working again and Lindsay had been quite
excited earlier when she came out of the shower and noticed a ‘missed call’. It
was only me testing the ‘phones. She did receive a call a short while later, from
the Italian woman from whom we were supposed to collect the car. She had
decided to wash the engine and blown all the electrics. Lindsay’s dream of

independence from being driven around by me, shattered in a few seconds (and
vice-versa) – Lindsay’s navigation is not great and her sense of direction leaves
more than a little to be desired coupled with her poor long distance eyesight.
Frequently I can read a street sign 200 or 300 yards ahead and she’s yelling
“Left” or “Right”. Mostly, I ignore her and quietly point out when I’m correct.
She did get her own back today. I commented on how courteous are many of
the Antiguan drivers but I was finding it somewhat confusing as they didn’t flash
their lights, just stopped and waved. Lindsay pointed out that I am no better
since every time I let someone out I wash my windscreen rather than flash my
lights. I’m not sure whether it needs explaining but I will do it for the women
drivers. The wipers and indicators on cars in Antigua are on the opposite sides
from cars in the U.K. despite the fact that we drive on the right (by that I mean
correct and, therefore, left) side of the road.
The morning is taken up by transferring data from one computer to another,
Lindsay making sense of the accounting system and me, trying to establish
what sort of sales plan the company operates under and, finding none, trying to
construct one. By twelve Alexis wants to go for lunch. He is also trying to
organise a photo shoot of a mega-yacht from a helicopter but the weather isn’t
playing ball.
Rather later than I would have liked, we head off to St. John’s to pick up the
office supplies we need. Relatively painless. We also call into APUA, the
telephone company supplying us with land line ‘phones, to enquire when our
office ‘phones might be connected. Nothing on their computer but, fortunately,
the have a hand written note. The end of this week or, maybe, next week. A
request for a telephone directory sends us in the direction of a pile delivered
that day. I pinch two. In retrospect, I wish I had taken three.
We have Meeting with the solicitor at four and are kept waiting half an hour.
Not bad by Antiguan standards but not her fault. The previous clients leave with
long faces, separately. My guess is a divorce, later confirmed when we see him
in a bar with another woman.
All the e-mails I had sent from the U.K., the occasional telephone call and my
visit in March were to no avail. Nothing had been done to conclude the
purchase of the company. I do wonder whether anyone has taken us seriously
even though I had paid a US$10,000 deposit, much to the solicitor’s surprise.
Once our intentions becomes clear things move on apace. Work Permits are
put in hand, contact is made with the other side’s solicitors, advice on health
insurance, property purchase, etc. etc..
Leaving the office we check our mail box. Brighton Council loves us as does
Seeboard. Both have sent us bills. Will we make it back to English Harbour for
the Tot? I decide we will wait until we are half way back before ringing to find
tonight’s location. Having missed the last two Tots we do not know tonight’s

venue. We make it in plenty of time mainly due to the fact that the single
handed Atlantic rower is a guest and has rowed across English Harbour and is
late.
I decide it was kill or cure and down several drinks in quick succession to try to
knock the ‘flu on the head. I will probably wake up with a hangover tomorrow,
as to the ’flu, time will tell. And the fish. Whilst it smelt great the bag, it is so
powerful, Lindsay reckons it is animal food. Since she had been throwing bread
out for the birds which is being eaten by the mongooses (or is it mongeese, I
never know) I suggest the mongooses might like a change of diet. I think her
response was unprintable but I can’t remember because the ‘flu cure (alcohol)
is beginning to kick in.
Day 13 – Thursday. Life has become a whole series of forgetting things.
Because the way we lead our life is so different, no longer having the type of
office set-up I am used to, we have to remember all the bits we have to load
into the car each day to take to the office. It must be a bit like doing the school
run. We’ve even got the 4 x 4.
Lindsay, being a former civil servant, doesn’t yet understand the necessity of
starting early in private enterprise and although 8 am is equivalent of 10am in
the U.K., we still arrive at the office later than is normal for me.
The ‘kill or cure’ from last night seems to have worked. I’m still alive, slept 10
hours and feel almost normal. I am sure rum has special curative powers.
Into the office with its three double shuttered windows, two single shuttered
windows and double shuttered doors which takes us about ten minutes to open
up. We have developed a system. One on the outside and one inside. It cuts
the time in half. This is day 2 of trying to interest advertisers in our product. I
remember when I was a recipient of cold callers. I just put the ‘phone down
without talking to them. I am now one of those dreadful people. Fortunately,
the people in Antigua are much more polite and I succeed in making a number
of appointments to see people. A particular sailmaker with whom I spent a lot of
money in 2004 is quite amused when I tell him I need to earn back some of my
cash. We will see if that converts to revenue.
Working in the same office as Lindsay is proving a bit of a trial for both of us.
The main problem is that we have only one computer and we both want to use it
at the same time. Tomorrow is her birthday so guess what she’s getting for a
present.
The broadband goes down in the afternoon and copious calls to Cable &
Wireless elicits some semi-helpful information such as “unplug the main power
socket” but to no avail. An engineer may arrive tomorrow but more likely
Monday. The landlord has been in Antigua too long. He just shrugs his
shoulders. Alexis appears on and off during the day and is very surprised when

we decline his invitation to lunch at twelve. I am happy to work through but the
rumblings from the opposite corner of the office, both verbal and gastronomic,
indicated a need for sustenance. Jackees Kwik Stop seemed an ideal solution.
Even by Antiguan standards ‘quick’ is a complete aberration.
We decide to come to an arrangement with a local restaurant, Cloggies, (run by
a Dutchman), who do very nice range of baguettes. They agree to ‘take aways’.
Closing the office at about 5.30 we proceed to the Antigua Yacht Club.
I try to tender my membership to the yacht club for the second time and have it
rejected again. They don’t seem to want to take my money. The reason is,
apparently, if I submit it in on Saturday, I get half price. The yacht club
President sees what is happening and offers to sponsor the application which is
rather embarrassing since the Social Secretary has offered to do likewise.
We meet a few new people including a couple who have been here for thirty five
years (not sure about him as he is her third husband). Driving back Lindsay
comments that rum does not seem to have the alcoholic affect of drinks in the
U.K.. She calculates that based on their measures she has had about the
equivalent of 16 U.K. measures (half a bottle) but still feels fine. Seeing her
cooking in the kitchen a bit later in bra and knickers, I am not so sure. (Her
comment – “I’m not pissed, just hot.”)
Day 14 – Friday. In the office before eight to find the internet is still down. The
landlord tells us an engineer will be arriving at 9. By 9 the internet is working
again but no sign of the engineer. He must have some supernatural powers
which enable him to carry out repairs from afar. Unfortunately, not true. Around
3 he appears and the internet is not working again. An hour later I see him
wandering around on the roof shaking his head. At 5 he appears in the office
with two large plastic boxes under his arm trailing cables and asks which we
want first, the good news or the bad news. We go for the bad. He tells us the
internet is not working. We already knew that so what’s the good news? It will
be working by Monday. That’s good news? I suppose that to get anything
working within three days in Antigua is good news particularly over a weekend.
My first appointment of the day is at 10 with an importer of fine wines and good
quality food products. Not being 100% sure of the whereabouts of his office I
leave in plenty of time and arrive 20 minutes early. Must be a first for Antigua.
Rather than sit in the car I go into his office and he expresses no surprise at my
early arrival. It must be that all timing in Antigua is approximate. His name is
Didier and he is French. We have a discussion about the Marine Guide and the
products he imports. I suggest that he could do well to add a few English beers
to his range. He tells me he already has some, Guinness, Worthington
Smoothflow and Idris Ginger Beer. Well, he is French and this is Antigua. I
might take a little time to educate him.

Whilst at the north end of the island I decide to nip into St. John’s to go to the
bank and also see if I can pick up another computer. Nowhere to park so I
revert to my English habit of parking on yellow lines. Several people have
suggested that a smaller 4 x 4 may be more appropriate to Antigua and, driving
around St. John’s, I appreciate what they mean but this car is definitely growing
on me although it still has a habit of confusing me from time to time. Yesterday
a light appeared on the dash saying ‘O/D OFF’. I didn’t know I had turned ‘O/D’
on let alone what ‘O/D’ did. Logic dictated ‘O/D’ stands for overdrive, somewhat
unusual on an automatic and, anyway, when would you use overdrive in
Antigua. It has to rank alongside the cruise control as one of the more useless
things on the car. Much searching reveals a little button on the side of the gear
lever which, when pushed, extinguishes ‘O/D OFF”.
No luck with buying another computer. They don’t sell Macs in Antigua, you
have to order them from the U.S..
Next appointment is with the sailmaker who had carried out all my repairs
during Sailing Week 2004. He is a little harder to crack but promises me a reply
within a week which probably means ‘No’.
Back to the office where you can cut the atmosphere with a knife. Lindsay is
exuding frustration with the accounting system. Every time she prints an
invoice which should be in Dollars the invoice automatically produces it in
Pounds Sterling. Although no £ sign appears on the screen it appears on the
paper.
Having only two desks Alexis is sitting at one and Lindsay the other leaving me
nowhere to work also, although there are three computers, one is very
temperamental, another Alexis uses for his work and on the third Lindsay is
doing accounts. Much of the organisation is somewhat haphazard and I try to
extract from Alexis some form of information sheet on current advertisers, past
advertisers and potential advertisers. The lists are woefully short of information
and I can’t get to a computer to try to formulate some form of useable list from
which to work. I think my frustration is also beginning to show.
Lindsay is still struggling with the £ sign and in the end she, reluctantly, agrees
to let me have a look commenting that since I know nothing about the accounts
package (true) she doesn’t understand how I will be able to find something she
can’t. Initially, she proves to be correct. There is nothing in the accounts
package which allows for this aberration. A bit of lateral thinking. It must be the
basic set up in the computer and I quickly find the settings and change them.
The feeling of achievement is rapidly followed by one of disappointment when
the £ sign still appears on the invoices. Maybe the computer needs shutting
down and restarting before it recognises changes to settings. Thankfully, that
works.

The rest of the day is taken up with telephone calls to prospective advertisers,
making semi-sensible lists and making appointments to see people. A
reasonably successful end to the day and I’m quite grateful when at 5 Lindsay
suggests we load our e-mails onto disk and go to a local internet café to send
them. For reasons I won’t go into, the disk is still in the car and the e-mails
unsent. We sit in the car with the air conditioning on and eat ice creams from
tubs (without spoons).
A brief visit to the Tot Club where Terry, whose birthday it was yesterday, is
buying drinks for everyone and I get collared to do Rum Steward next week.
Since it’s Lindsay’s birthday today we slip off to Calabash for dinner only to find
a large party just sitting down to eat. We wait at the bar for about an hour then
sit down to a well prepared and well presented dinner. Mike joins us and offers
us a free drink for Lindsay’s birthday. She chooses a Baileys and ice and I go
for a port. No port so I settle for the Baileys and ice.
Day 15 – Saturday, a day of rest, supposedly. Into Falmouth to get the e-mails
sent and deliver a few packages. Also, we try to deposit our rubbish in the
locked compound having eventually obtained a key. Four padlocks and the key
will open none of them.
Petrol is getting a bit low and the nearest place to fill up is at the boat fuel dock
at Slipway. As we arrive a motor boat is filling with petrol, very slowly, or so I
think. It seems to be taking petrol at about a gallon a minute. Even the pump
attendant is getting impatient and a queue of cars is beginning to grow. I
comment to the pump attendant that the boat has only taken on 16.5 gallons in
about ten minutes. He points out that it is 165 gallons and the boat still has
another tank to fill. Fortunately the other tank is not empty and the boat only
takes just over 200 gallons, and this is only a 27 foot motor launch with twin
outboards. I fill up for about GB£20. In the U.K. I was used to putting in GB£80
on each fill-up.
On the way back home we call in at Crabhole Liquors for a couple of bottles of
wine and a bottle of port. Roger, who is looking after Graeme’s boat whilst he is
in the U.K., has bought a huge strip loin of beef (at EC$10 per pound, that’s
about GB£2 per pound) and has invited us and a few others on board for
dinner.
Geoffrey Pidduck has not forgotten he persuaded Lindsay to go sailing in the
afternoon and we have agree to meet him for lunch at noon in Jolly Harbour. In
conversation he mentions the name of one of his irregular crew which turns out
to be a local Antiguan who sailed with me in Race Week in 1998 and, on a visit
to the U.K., came out for a race with me off Brighton. We have tried,
unsuccessfully, to meet up with him on several subsequent occasions. I gather
he has one family in Antigua and another in Martinique and, therefore, is a bit
elusive.

Geoffrey’s boat, or at least the one we are sailing on (he has three), is an old 6
metre modified for short handed sailing which is just as well since it appears it is
only the three of us. The boat is suspended in a cradle and is lowered on two
electric winches into the water. Rather neat.
The main sail has been away for repair and needs to be bent on. It’s a bit of a
guess as to which batten fits which pocket and, noting Geoffrey attaching the
clew to the outhaul I ask if it’s a loose footed main. He confirms it is. It doesn’t
look that way to me but I refrain from contradicting him. We hoist the main and
sail away. Geoffrey suddenly has a change of heart. It’s not a loose footed
main and we drop it and feed the foot along the boom. Something is wrong with
the upper batten. It keeps catching on the backstay and, on starboard tack, will
not come free. Only by climbing out over the stern and giving the backstay
several vicious shakes can I free it. In the confusion of trying to sort it out we
loose track of the start time and are badly positioned on the line. Not that it
matters too much. There are only three boats in this fleet. To make matters
worse, we are not using spinnakers and the course and the legs are very long.
To top it all, the winds are very light. Lindsay is not enjoying herself.
Coming toward the end of a long downwind leg, Geoffrey suggests we will
never finish in time for us to get back to the Antigua Yacht Club in Falmouth
where we are due at 6. He wants to retire. I point out that once we go around
the next mark, about 100 yards ahead, we will be going upwind and, therefore,
a lot faster. This proves to be the case but, unbeknown to me, rather than the
course taking us back into Jolly Harbour, we have several more buoys to go
around and quite a distance left in the race. We retire and motor back in.
Hoisting the boat back out of the water, we leave Geoffrey to tidy up a few
remaining items and head home for a quick shower and on to the Antigua Yacht
Club where we are finally allowed to join. The Tot is also being held at the club
so after joining in we set off to meet Roger at the Galley Bar at the pre-arranged
time of 7. No sign of Roger or any of the other guests. About 10 minutes later
a dinghy slowly weaves its way out of the dark and up to the dock. Roger has
obviously been using one hand to cook with and the other to sample the various
wines he has on board. The other guests join us with one exception who is
delayed.
Roger has agreed to borrow at couple of chairs from the Galley Bar but forgets
them. I am not sure how we would have all fitted in the dinghy plus the chairs.
Dropping us off at the boat Roger sets off to collect the chairs. On his return we
tell him the final guest is awaiting collection from the dock. Roger sets off again
but gets no more than 50 yards when he runs out of petrol. Fortunately,
Graeme’s boat has two dinghies. We lower the other one from the davits and
one of the guests sets off on a rescue mission.
Roger is obviously a consummate cook. The food is very good and the beef
superb. The evening, the wine and the port flows by rather swiftly and all too

soon it’s midnight. Roger refuses any assistance clearing up and we prepare to
embark on the working dinghy to go ashore. It’s full of water. I had completely
forgotten that Graeme suspends it at an angle on the davits with the bung taken
out so rainwater will drain out. Fortunately, we had re-attached the boat to the
davits so it hadn’t sunk.
Day 16 – Sunday. Definitely a day of rest. We don’t get up until late.
Provisions are a bit short so we drive to the local shop for some bacon and
eggs. Lindsay forgets the eggs so it’s bacon sandwiches. The little cricket
ground at the end of our roadway, dormant until yesterday, is active again today
with more players than spectators. If it wasn’t for the temperature, one could be
inclined to liken it to an English village team. I’m almost tempted to go and sit in
the miniature stand and watch a few overs. It will have to be done one day.
Having promised to go sailing on the Swan 37 in the afternoon there is not
enough time to do Tot Keep Fit and sail. I feel a bit guilty but also a bit relieved.
I turn up on the dockside at the appointed time to find all the boats tied up and
not a soul in sight. Lindsay takes the car to Pigeon Beach, just around the
corner, amidst a scrabbling of tyres as she applies her right foot rather too
heavily. Fortunately, we both have our ‘phones and they are getting a signal. I
wait half an hour and decide the race must have been cancelled.
Alexis is just tying up his new boat. It looks rather like a Thames sailing barge
with about as much grace but does have a certain primitive style. Apparently, it
is a local design known as a Carriacou.
Lindsay has just about settled down on the beach when she receives my call.
Although the beach looks deserted from the house, Lindsay says it’s rather
crowded. The sand is completely clear as it is too hot to walk on but under the
palm trees and in the water there is hardly a square inch. Beaches not being
my scene, we return home.
Parking the car I experimentally push another button the symbol on which
means absolutely nothing. The door mirrors fold in. Very useful when parked in
St, John’s. At least they won’t be knocked off but there could be a downside,
without the door mirrors sticking out, other drivers could be tempted to drive
closer. A new paint job could be more expensive than a new door mirror.
As I am to be Rum Steward next week, we decide to go down to the Tot. I
apologise to Terry for not making Keep Fit and point out that it was a
combination of Roger’s hospitality the night before and my commitment to go
sailing. My comment on Roger’s hospitality was really an aside to further thank
Roger for entertaining us and I wish had not mentioned it as it appeared I
avoided Keep Fit due to a hangover. Quite the reverse. Keep Fit would have
been a hangover cure. To make matters worse, Terry and Connie, expecting
us at Keep Fit, had laid on lunch. Not that I could have stayed had I been

fulfilling my sailing commitment. I could kill the Swan owner for not telling me
sailing was cancelled.
Day 17 – Monday. Perhaps the Cable & Wireless engineer should have said I
have ‘bad news and bad news’. We still do not have an internet connection and
Cable & Wireless have lost track of the engineer who took our aerials away.
Lindsay asks them if he really was one of their engineers. I am not sure they
appreciated the subtlety of the question.
I am off the St. John’s again to meet the Marketing Manager of Wadadli Beer
(Antigua’s own brew). I decide to be blunt and tell him that in the eight years I
have been coming to Antigua I have noticed Wadadli’s market share fall to the
competitor beer, Carib. He agrees that Carib now has a greater market
presence but feels Wadadli is still holding onto its market share. I offer him
advertising space and he wants a prime position, all of which have gone. A bit
of juggling and I can offer him something pretty good.
I have had another idea I want to put to him. One of the things that concerns me
about this publication is that there is no incentive for stockists to ring up when
they run out of copies. We have about 80 stands. My idea is to have a label in
the back of the stand requesting stockists to ring for extra copies and enter a
free draw for a year’s supply of Wadadli beer. The Marketing Manager really
likes this idea and asks “How much?” I reply, “Just the cost of the beer, plus, of
course, an advert.” It has to go to his Board but I will be surprised if they don’t
do it.
Next call is just on the off-chance. The garage where I bought my car. I could
anticipate their argument. How do you sell cars to sailor? I decide to pre-empt
this by saying that many people who first come to Antigua as sailors end up
staying, probably more than through any other source. I must be right because
he starts referring to the number of sailors to whom he has sold cars,
particularly those from Jolly Harbour. I don’t disillusion him, most people from
Jolly harbour are not sailors. Anyway, he seems so impressed he asks for
more copies of the Guide and I give him all I have in the car which creates me
the difficulty of not having any copies for my next appointments.
No problem. I ring Alexis and ask where I can pick up a few copies in St.
John’s. The Tourist Office. He gives me the address which is in the same
street as the solicitor. I even manage to park, legally, almost outside only it’s no
longer the Tourist Office, it’s now the Work Permits Office. At least I know
where that is for future reference (but for how long? I ask myself). I obtain
directions to the new Tourist Office. Why does it surprise me that it is located
well out of town in amongst a collection of large Government office buildings all
with signs on the gates saying ‘No entry except Government vehicles’.
Only one of the five buildings has any indication as to its purpose. The
Immigration Office. I decide to start there. Tourism is nothing to do with them.

Try the second building. At least they have heard of the Tourism Office but
don’t think it’s in their building. Try the one next door. They also have heard of
the Tourism Office, two out of three is not bad, but it’s definitely not in their
building. They suggest I try the one I have just left. I debate with myself. Do I
try the two remaining buildings or drive back to English Harbour and collect
some more copies from the office? It’s a no brainer, I have walked too far
already.
Back at the office I make a few ‘phone calls and nip out to get a couple of
sandwiches for lunch. On my return, Alexis suggests I wait around to meet a
client who is just increasing his advertising. We are introduced and he says he
knows me, or at least my boat. I had a chat with him when Jagga (my yacht)
was in the boatyard at Slipway last year. He obviously has a very good memory
for faces because I have no recollection of him other than I remember
complimenting him on the paint finish he was putting to the hull of a boat.
Back to St. John’s for my next appointment. She isn’t in so I see her assistant.
Doesn’t really matter since they are existing clients and this is just a PR
exercise. This makes me rather early for my next appointment so I pop into the
‘Sticky Wicket’, a bar/restaurant at the airport for a quick drink (non-alcoholic).
Considering what everyone has said about the Sticky Wicket, I am a bit
disappointed. It reminds me of a Harvester pub in the U.K..
Having bought two desks for the office it has become all too apparent that on
too many occasions there were three of us in the office and since I am the one
who is out most of the time I come back with nowhere to work. I call into the
furniture shop and buy another desk but only on the condition I can take the one
already assembled and it will fit in the back of the car. He laughs at me until I
point to the car. These 4 x 4s are having more and more uses.
Back at the office, Lindsay has had enough. She has not even had time to read
her book. We shut up at ten to five. The Tot is at 6 and as Rum Steward I am
obliged to be there. We don’t stay long and drive around to Calabash to use
Mike Briggs internet connection. It won’t work with a Mac.
Mike is rambling on about teaching one of his local bar staff Cockney English
and has a book with all kinds of things in it which seem nothing to do with
Cockney slang. He is checking on collective nouns and asks the assembled
company for the collective noun for ‘Peddlers’. I suggest ‘Cyclists’. Lindsay
nearly falls off her stool laughing but everyone else just looks mystified.
Presumably Lindsay and I have a similar sense of humour which isn’t shared by
the others. Lindsay is still chuckling as we drive home. It wasn’t that funny.
Just as we are about to leave, the Swan owner appears, full of apologies. She
has heard about my lonesome wait on the dockside yesterday. I am asked if I
will sail next Sunday but I point out that I cannot do ‘keep fit’ and sail. She

offers to have the start of the race delayed until I can get there. No one has
ever done that for me before so I’d better turn up.
Back home our nightly visiting beetle returns again. We are sure it’s the same
one because it’s behaviour pattern is unique and always the same. Lindsay has
christened it Val because it batters its way around the veranda, bumping into
everything then falls flat on its back, waving its legs in the air, rather like
someone we know from the yacht club in Brighton after a few drinks.
Day 18 – Tuesday. On the way to work we encounter the most enormous bull
standing in the middle of the road. Normally it is tethered safely to one side of
the road. Obviously, it has pulled its tether from the ground. Coming in the
opposite direction is another vehicle which has come to a standstill, waiting to
see how we deal with the bull. Fortunately, it’s an Antiguan bull and its
movements are rather laconic.
We arrive at the office to be told that the water’s off. It’s taken two weeks to get
the toilet connected, we have had one day of use and now we have no water.
The good news is the man from the internet is due at half nine. Since he was
due on Friday at 9 and arrived at 3, I did ask if this meant 3.30 today. I was
wrong.
Whilst meeting with our new account manager at the Premium Accounts Branch
(very plush, no queues and you can make appointments) my ‘phone rings. It is
APUA, our land line supplier. The engineer tells me he is outside a basketball
court which is about was 100 yards from the office. I give him directions and tell
him I will send Lindsay outside to meet him. In retrospect, there was a slight
note of panic in his voice at my suggestion and he advises she should wait a
minute. Five minutes later, Lindsay rings, no APUA but the internet engineer
has arrived. APUA arrived three quarters of an hour later. A tortoise could
have covered the distance in less time, even an Antiguan tortoise.
Bank sorted, I go to collect the post. Lots of it, mainly cards for Lindsay. The
only thing for me is a slightly snotty note from Barclaycard. I have been a day
late with my payment. Not my fault but Barclays. Without telling me they have
introduced a 24 hour delay in Barclays to Barclays transactions and I am
charged £20 for the benefit of not knowing.
Lindsay rings again. The lines were in but APUA are out of ‘phones so I will
have to buy one plus a line splitter. Both the ‘phone and the fax lines come
down the same cable so you need a splitter to differentiate between the two. I
buy a splitter but have a nasty feeling from the way it is constructed we are
going to have two fax lines and one telephone line. You know how I hate being
right all the time.
Whilst at the post office I check a nearby notice board for cars for sale and three
catch my attention, in particular, a two door Opel Astra. I make an arrangement

to see it on my way back to the office. It is in Jolly Harbour, an almost
impossible place to get to, particularly from St. John’s. At one point I almost
have to refer to the map. The car is a bit ‘boy-racerish’ and a little low for the
road conditions although fairly smart. Even I am beginning to become practical
as far as cars are concerned.
The last mile or so to the house is more or less a private driveway, part tarmac,
part unsurfaced and part concrete. On the concrete bit it is single track and,
going to the house, only the right hand side of the road is surfaced. Everyone
uses the concrete surfaced bit whether or not it’s his or her right of way, me
included. Unfortunately, in the middle of this concrete section is a steep hill and
I tend to approach the crest rather slowly, regardless of whether or not it is my
right of way. If I have no rights I also sound my horn (only during daylight
hours, not out of consideration for any neighbours but because I presume I will
see oncoming lights at night). Until today, I have never met a vehicle coming
the other way on the crest of the hill. Today, when it’s my right of way, I
encounter two. Both Jeeps, both left hand drive, both being driven at high
speed by women. The only difference between the first and the second is the
first is also talking into her mobile ‘phone and has a child strapped in the back
seat, no doubt, with a sticker in the rear window saying ‘Child on Board’.
Amidst clouds of dust they swerve off the road and glare at me as though I am
in the wrong as only women drivers can do.
After last night when the midges at Calabash even managed to bite my ankles
through my socks (no, I am not wearing shorts and socks but proper shoes and
trousers having come from the office), I spray my socks with OFF in the hope of
discouraging the little blighters. It works.
Tonight I am cooking mashed potatoes with dinner. What did people do before
potato mashers? I seem to recollect my mother used a fork but not in a nonstick
pan.
Lindsay’s quote of the day – “Even the birds here fly slowly.”
Val brings her cousin to visit us. It can’t be her sister since Val is black and
‘cousin’ is brown. They must be related though since they behave in exactly the
same manner, bashing into everything and ending up flat on their backs on the
floor. Either that or they have been drinking in the same bar.
Day 19 – Wednesday. When I first met Lindsay she didn’t strike me as the sort
of person who would be frightened by spiders or mice. In fact, she is frightened
of something which would never have occurred to me had I not had a member
of staff, some years ago, who was frightened of the same thing – bird feathers
and, therefore, also birds. Most of these things do not exist in any quantity in
Antigua but a replacement has occurred, although, to be fair, not to the extent of
spiders or mice. They are lizards and/or geckos.

One invaded our bedroom. It is too fast to catch and I chase it out. In the
morning I wander into the spare bedroom (there are two bedrooms on our floor
and another below) and sitting on the floor is this poor, lost, helpless gecko.
Initially, I try to chase it out of the house without success. It runs up the walls,
into the bathroom, over the open window (the mosquito screen prevented its
ultimate escape) and back down onto the floor.
If nothing else, I am becoming resourceful. I grab the broom, which is more like
a dustpan brush with a long handle. Chasing the gecko around the room it
eventually jumped onto the broom. Finding something that is no longer chasing
it, it settles down, lungs pulsating and heart beating madly. Gently, I carry it
towards the veranda door. Maybe it recovered too quickly. Halfway there the
gecko heads for freedom, only it goes the wrong way, back to the bedroom. My
second attempt is more successful. Maybe, by now, he knows who’s master.
We have appointments in St. John’s with accountants and solicitors so today is
not going to be much of a working day. We call into the office to check e-mails,
etc. and Alexis arrives with a copy of a magazine in “Italian” printed in Antigua (I
didn’t know there was that much of a market for Italian in Antigua) with an
advertisement within it for Breitling Watches. I have had a long standing
relationship with Breitling in the U.K. and had approached them to advertise
within the Marine Guide but without success.
I reach for our newly installed ‘phone to ring my contact in the U.K.. Alexis
immediately enquires whether we were set up for international calls. Once you
have a telephone, can’t you call anywhere in the world? Apparently not in
Antigua. In order to make international calls you have to sign up with a different
company, Cable & Wireless. They have a monopoly on international calls.
Cable & Wireless told us we would be connected the same day. Time will tell.
The visit to the accountant doesn’t really tell us anything we didn’t already know
and, probably, raises more questions than answers. The solicitor is more
productive but from the number of people involved I suspect the bill will not be
small.
We do have one business appointment which was at a very remote restaurant.
We are early so decide to have lunch before discussing business. The food is
very good but expensive and, due to the remoteness of the location, I am not
surprised they are struggling for custom. I feel a bit sorry for them but it teaches
me a lesson which, I think, I had already learnt. It’s a waste of time chasing
small businesses but it does reveal other opportunities, a simple, cheap
directory for small companies.
We drive back into St. John’s to do a little food shopping, collect my car
documents from the dealer and pop into the bank for Lindsay to sign some
documents.

On the notice board in the supermarket a car is advertised which will suit
Lindsay. We ring the owner who has moved to Miami. He gives us a number in
Antigua of someone who is selling the car for him. They tell me to ring back.
They are selling the car so I tell them to ring me but they don’t. Tomorrow I may
ring the owner and suggest he gets someone else to sell the car for him.
At the checkout in the supermarket someone tries to put our purchases into
bags. I stop him. Last time we were here the same thing happened and our
groceries were wheeled out to the car. I gave the guy a EC$5 tip. He gave me
such a filthy look (obviously not a big enough tip) that I thought that this time I
would do it myself. As soon as I turn my back our bags are being loaded into a
trolley. The trolley ‘driver’ even stops for a conversation with a friend on the
way to the car park, only ceasing it when I try to take the trolley away from him.
At the door, him leading, he heads off in the wrong direction at which point my
patience fails me and I grab our bags from the trolley and tell him we don’t need
his services.
Prior to this and back at the checkout desk, I produced my American Express
Card. It’s the black, Centurion, all singing, all dancing card, acceptable the
world over. It was rejected. I had visions of my problems at the insurance
company. The checkout girl went to find her supervisor. Fortunately, it was
their machine which was at fault not my card.
Next visit is to the bank. It is ten to four and even the Premier division of the
bank is closed. The car dealer is in the same road so we go to collect the car’s
registration documents. They are ready for us except we now have to take
them to some kind of vehicle centre which, of course, is closed. Tomorrow is
another day.
Rum Steward duty at the Tot Club and then on to a party except we don’t have
a bottle to take with us. I ask Mike at Calabash to sell us a bottle of wine.
EC$10, that’s £2. Even Tesco can’t do it that cheap.
I am beginning to think Mike is an incipient Peter Whittle (for those who don’t
know Peter, otherwise known as ‘Mad Peter’, he is a member of the yacht club
in Brighton. He talks incessantly, never listens to anyone and has a vast
repertoire of bad jokes which he insists on repeating). Mike has developed the
first two ‘attributes’ and, today, tells us a bad joke. Whilst I miss Peter’s
irrepressible good nature I am not sure I want to meet his clone.
The party is held on the dockside adjacent to a boat. It’s dark and although we
recognise a few faces it’s quite difficult to mingle. We have a couple of drinks
and leave.
Our first spider greets us at home. Unlike anything else in Antigua, this moves
extremely quickly. It also has a sense of self-preservation and is out of the door
before I can catch it.

Day 20 – Thursday. We have a few things to do and decide to go into St.
John’s before the office. Alexis catches us just as we leave and asks us to take
a laptop to his accountant who happens to be in the same road as our first
appointment. This laptop is terminally ill but contains all Alexis’s accounts. He
had attempted to send them by e-mail but the laptop wasn’t talking. Hopefully,
the accountant can get what he needs before it finally dies.
Next call is at the bank for Lindsay to sign some documents (I’ve never had a
joint account before and although we have set it up as either to sign they keep
insisting we both sign things). Then on to the vehicle registration department to
collect our ‘sticker’ for the windscreen. Similar to a U.K. tax disc.
The Ministry of Transport’s offices are rather remote and we ask directions from
the bank manager. Driving towards the offices I see a sign saying Vehicle
Licensing Inspection Unit and turn into the road. Lindsay insists I am going to
the wrong place but, from memory, I am sure this is where the garage told me
to go. Rather than argue I turn around in a small, unmade road and follow
Lindsay’s directions to the Ministry of Transport. They redirect us to the Vehicle
Licensing Inspection Unit which is down the small, unmade road where I had
turned around. Lindsay is forced to comment that I am right, yet again.
Driving down this unmade road it occurs to me that any vehicle which manages
to negotiate this road to the Inspection Centre must be roadworthy. The Centre
carries out the equivalent of the U.K. MOT test and from my observations of the
inspections the toughest part of the test is the road. Maybe there is method in
their madness.
Not entirely unsurprisingly, the Vehicle Licensing Inspection Unit is directly
behind the Ministry of Transport office and we now parked about 20 feet from
where we parked earlier. Although this bit of parking is not without its drama.
There is a clearly marked entrance and exit with plenty of spare space. As we
enter one of the Inspectors starts waving his clipboard, semaphore fashion. I
presume he doesn’t want me to park where I am heading. Changing my
direction only results in more semaphore. By now, thoroughly confused, I head
for an empty corner accompanied by even more vigorous semaphore.
Approaching the Inspector on foot I ask where he wished me to park. At first he
studiously ignores me then says that he had been trying to direct me where to
park but that I decided I would park where I wanted. I tell him my purpose in
coming and he points to an office. The sticker and my registration document
are forthcoming and I walk back towards the car. A loud voice from behind
calling ‘Sir’ several times makes me turn around. It is the Inspector.
Apparently, he has to place the sticker on the windscreen.
The Inspector is somewhat confused by my mobile ‘phone aerial which looks
like a U.K. licence disc holder and is stuck to the lower left hand corner of the

windscreen, just where he wants to put his sticker. Once its purpose is
explained, he is somewhat impressed by the hands free ‘phone kit and I ask
Lindsay to give him a little demonstration. He tells us the message he has on
his mobile when driving which is “ I am driving and have better things to do with
my hands than talk to you.” He then shakes my hand and we part company on
better terms than when we arrived.
Something which has slightly surprised us, pleasantly so, is the way shop
assistants will tell you in which other stores you can find the things they don’t
currently have in stock. Also, when you do find what you want, they tell you if
they have something which is better value for money.
We are in desperate need of a fax machine but with one on its way to us we
don’t want spend too much money. The first shop doesn’t have what we want
and they direct us to another. We find a machine which really does a lot more
than we want. The shop assistant tells us that they have something more
suited to our needs and at half the price in their other branch which is in the
middle of town. We are able to pay for the machine at the branch we are in and
it will be ready to collect at the other branch as soon as we get there. This
enables me to double park for a few minutes, causing havoc in the narrow
streets whilst Lindsay collects the package.
On our way back we call in at the shippers receiving our furniture, a visit we had
been planning for some time but hadn’t managed to get around to doing.
Almost instantly, they have our file open and on the top page are copies of our
passports. Our furniture is arriving on Monday. How long it will take to get
through customs we have yet to see.
It’s only 10 o’clock and we are feeling quite pleased with ourselves. We have
achieved quite a lot. Pride before the fall comes to mind. Setting up the fax
machine we try an international call. A disembodied voice tells us we can’t
make international calls on this number. A call to Cable & Wireless elicits the
information that we have been connected since 10.20. I leave it half an hour
and try again. This time the voice cuts in a soon as I start dialling. I call Cable
& Wireless again. I have been using the wrong code. It still doesn’t work. I
decided to leave it until after lunch. A further call to Cable & Wireless and I
discover either he has given me the wrong code or I have been dyslexic.
Now working, Lindsay tries it out with a 15 to 20 minute call to her father,
blissfully unaware this is costing us 91p per minute.
Graeme e-mailed me earlier from the U.K. saying it was as cold as January. He
is not envying the crews who will start on the Royal Escape Race to France
tomorrow (a race I have done frequently and from which I have even been
banned but finally winning at my last attempt in 2003, fortunately not being
forced to defend my title in 2004 as the boat was in Antigua). Before leaving
the U.K. a friend remarked that I would miss the cold, crisp mornings. I denied

it vehemently. Every time I open the ‘fridge door my denial comes back to
haunt me, but only for a few seconds.
Sitting at a table in the ‘Life’ bar doing my duty as Rum Steward I watch a rower
climb aboard his yacht which is moored about 100 yards away. Once aboard
the rower proceeds to strip to nothing but a small T-shirt. Fortunately, Lindsay
is short-sighted and can’t see what I can.
Day 21 – Friday. By the end of the day we will have spent more time in Antigua
on a single occasion than at any time in the past and it is a day best forgotten.
If I was ever going to turn around and go back to the U.K. it will have been day
21.
My morning is well planned with a series of tasks to do at the office. We arrive
a little before 8 and download the e-mails. There is a long one from the
solicitors. It appears that Alexis has not complied with a variety of legal
obligations to do with the company. A short while later, Alexis arrived. He has
received a copy of the e-mail and is not happy. He has receipts from his
solicitor for the required filing of documents. Either his solicitor has charged him
and not done the work or the Company Registry has slipped up. We all hope
it’s the latter but the first hour has been wasted
Also in the solicitor’s e-mail is the information that we can’t get our Work
Permits because Alexis doesn’t have a Company Stamp which needs to be on
the form. Alexis rings a stationary shop which produces stamps and one part
will be here on Monday the other on Thursday which means we won’t get our
Work Permits before our temporary visas expire, something I was hoping to
avoid.
To renew our visas means queuing up at the Immigration Department and
explaining why we want to stay. I am slightly tempted to take a weekend break
at one of the other islands and renew the visas by coming back through the
airport. Alexis then proceeds to go through all the potential advertisers with me
and various other aspects of the publication, all of which I had done the
previous day and formed part of my planning for the mornings work. The
morning now gone, I feel I have just wasted 4 hours and we still have only one
computer to which I can’t get access. My patience fails me and I tell Lindsay
that I can no longer carry on working in this disorganised fashion. I have had a
computer on my desk since 1985 and always had immediate access. Waiting
for Lindsay to finish what she is doing and then trying to do what I want as
quickly as possible so that she can get back to her work was driving us both
mad. The solution might seem quite simple but, of course, it isn’t.
Because we are a publishing company we use Apple Mac computers which are
not for sale on the island. I have already tried to buy and also gone on line to
the Apple site in the U.S.. U.S. should stand for useless. My experience of
dealing with Americans in business has always led me to believe that their

apparent efficiency is a self-generated myth. Today only served to prove my
presumption. The Apple site makes no provision for ordering from outside the
United States. Alexis gives me the name of another company which provides
the same products but at least they have a telephone number I can access.
What seems to be a good idea can easily turn into a bad one. I spend ten
minutes on the ‘phone to the U.S. (after having had to choose between about
27 options) being told by a recorded voice the “Your call is important to us,
please stay on the line and someone will be with you as soon as possible”. At
one stage the voice tells me that since I have been waiting so long I am being
transferred to a Supervisor but all that does is re-introduce the recorded voice
telling me how important I am to them. I give up.
To top things off, Cable & Wireless have connected our fax line for international
calls but not our telephone line. It is still not connected by the time we leave the
office. Lindsay can see I am at the end of my tether and asks what I want done
to make working conditions more suitable. The list is not long but most of them
unattainable in the short term. The office itself is a problem. What seemed
ideal when I first saw the offices is proving very impractical. Rather than having
windows, the office has shutters, ideal for security and hurricane protection
except that to keep cool the wind has to be allowed to blow through and the
ceiling fan is kept on. Combined, these blow the papers everywhere. In order
to catch pieces of paper in imminent danger of becoming airborne the tendency
is to place an arm on the offending object. The paper, rather than becoming
airborne attaches itself to the slightly moist arm.
I realised the problem as soon as we moved in and asked the landlord to fit
glass windows and air conditioning. Searching out the landlord, I must have
spoken to him rather severely because he is back a couple of hours later with a
quote and a promise they will be fitted next week.
Lindsay borrows my car keys and went to get us some lunch in the hope I might
cool off a bit. I am able to spend some time preparing the spreadsheets in the
fashion I want and, on her return, Lindsay volunteers to take the accounts home
and work on them over the weekend in order to allow me access to the
computer. She also takes over what I am doing in order to allow me to catch up
on other work.
There are a couple of upbeat moments to the day. Alexis tells us of a guy
called Paddy, someone we vaguely know from previous years, who has some
land for sale. We make an appointment to meet him. Also, I ring the man in
Miami who has the car for sale. His friend in Antigua has not rung us back.
Trying to play hard to get to improve our negotiating position I insist the friend
should ring us rather than us chase him. In the course of the conversation he
mentions his friend’s name. It turns out to be someone I have been trying to
make an appointment to see but is proving difficult to contact. Now having his
mobile ‘phone number, I am more than willing to ring him both about the car and
business.

Lindsay obviously held herself in check when we were at the office because as
we make our way to ‘Life’ for the Tot she tells me that I have to learn to ‘chill
out’ or she will go and work elsewhere. We both need a drink. Apart from the
Tot most of which I pour back, I have been trying to avoid drinking. Not tonight.
Three large rum and oranges and it is only the third which begins to work. I
even considered having a full Tot but relent and pour back half. Tot glasses are
a small tumbler which are half filled with rum. Guests or people qualifying to
become members have to drink a full Tot. Members can pour back as much as
they wish. What happened next should really be Saturday but it suits Friday so
much better. At 5 in the morning the electricity failed and the ceiling fan
stopped. Obviously, the batteries had run out of ‘juice’.
Day 22 – Saturday. We are woken by the fan stopping and I realise the
electricity has cut out. It is still dark so I don’t bother to check the power room,
deciding to leave it until daylight. Being both awake, in turn, we use the toilet.
Me first, not that I am being ungentlemanly, just that my going provokes the
thought in Lindsay. I flush and empty the cistern. When Lindsay flushes there
is no water. All the plumbing works on a pump and the pump requires
electricity.
A couple of hours later I reset the inverter and we have electricity, for about ten
minutes. I am debating whether or not to disturb Sandy when I hear his voice.
He is saying goodbye to someone as he leaves for a golf match. We connect
up his generator but still no electricity, or so Sandy says. He calls Charlie, a
local Antiguan who seems to know how to do everything. Charlie turns up half
an hour later and says there is nothing wrong. Sandy was misreading the lights
on the inverter.
10.30 we meet Paddy and he shows us some plots just below others we had
looked at when we were here at Christmas. A lot of clearing has gone on and
the higher plots now look a lot more attractive. Paddy’s plots are a little too low
and although he indicates he is prepared to negotiate, I think they are rather
expensive.
I may have mentioned it before but here in Antigua they have a most peculiar
way of valuing land. It is sold by the square foot. The value per square foot, in
the area we are looking, varies from US$4 to US$12 regardless of the size of
the plot but dependent upon location and services. What I find difficult to
handle is that if you buy a quarter acre plot for one house it costs, say,
US$100,000 but if you buy a half acre plot for on which to build one house it’s
US$200,000 and an acre US$400,000 and so on. Yet you can only build one
house on it and if you build the same house on a quarter acre plot as a one acre
plot your land value is totally out of proportion to your property value. Lindsay
reckons it’s the fault of the former colonists who sold land back to the
inhabitants at a rate per square foot. Unfortunately, the whole idea of paying for

land you will never use at the same rate as the land you will build upon totally
offends my sense of financial prudence.
As to the next plot Paddy shows us, you really need a helicopter to get there
rather than a 4 x 4. Lindsay cringes as the thorn bushes scrape past my new
paintwork and the rocks bounce against the underside of the car. Paddy then
badly spoils us. Set at the far end of the St. James’s Club (a gated, private,
residential area and upmarket hotel resort) is a plot of just over an acre leading
right down to the Atlantic Ocean shore. Everything about it is magnificent and
perfect apart from the price – US$550,000 and then you would have to build the
house, maybe anything up to another US$1,000,000. One of our reasons in
coming to Antigua was to live debt free. Lindsay asks whether we really want to
avoid having a mortgage? I can see her point. If Paddy wasn’t already in a
wheelchair I’d probably kick his legs from under him.
We revisit the plot we first wanted in English harbour (still my favourite within
our price range), the others we looked at when we were here at Christmas and
the one behind the house where we are now living (Lindsay’s favourite and one
I really don’t like) and come to no firm conclusion. In some respects we have
time on our hands but, equally, we don’t want to miss the boat. From the way
land is being fenced off it is evident that big development plans are afoot.
Close to us two large parcels of land have been fenced in and new road cut into
the hillside with the obvious intention of building. A herd of goats, although I am
now advised many are sheep (Lindsay tells me goats have their tails up and
sheep down), have been separated by the new fencing and, as we pass, we
see half of them marching up the inside of the fence with the other half on the
outside. Hopefully, one day, someone will let out the goats (sheep?) which are
stuck on the inside.
In the afternoon we go to look at the car for Lindsay who’s owner is in Miami.
We arrive at the house and collect the key from the housekeeper who promptly
goes out. As Lindsay says, we could drive away and no one would be the wiser
except we can’t start the car. We try connecting jump leads to the battery but
despite 15 minutes of revving my engine the car’s battery is beyond redemption.
The price is going down by the minute. We ring the owner in Miami and tell him
of our plight, feigning disinterest in the car. He ‘phones us back a few minutes
later in a panic. Evidently he has visions of his only purchaser in months
disappearing. He will have a mechanic sort everything by Monday. The car
seems quite reasonable but by now we hold all the cards and I indicate how
much, or should I say, how little, we are prepared to offer. Undeterred, he says
he will ring back on Monday. With a bit of luck, we may have a bargain on our
hands.
My last night as Tot Club Rum Steward and I have forgotten my glasses. One
of the tasks of Rum Steward is to read from a book of British Naval history
pertinent to that day’s date. The book is somewhat old and the text becoming a

little faded. Checking the readings before the Tot Lindsay sees me running my
fingers, child like, along the lines. She suggested I borrow some glasses. What
she does not know is that I am counting the number of British ships that took
part in an engagement at the beginning of the third Dutch war. It is 92.
Reading a little further the number is given in the text. Fortunately, Mike Rose,
President/Chairman/Founder of the Tot Club has just returned from delivering a
yacht across the Atlantic with a brand new copy of British Naval History.
A couple of days ago we bought a shoulder of local pork. We put in the oven to
cook before we went out. It was the best piece of meet we have eaten in years,
Nothing like the homogenised meat you buy in the U.K.. It has real taste, is
succulent and the cracking crackles. It is just like meat we used to have before
we joined the Common Market.
Day 23 – Sunday. One of the strange things about writing this diary is that
Lindsay is quite keen for me to do it but never at the times I want to write,
Usually I want to write when we come home in the evening, but she suggests
that perhaps I might do it the next morning, I have always been a person who
works better in the evening and is a bit slow to get going in the morning.
Sunday is no different. I plug in the computer and Lindsay asks if I can’t leave it
until the morning. By morning not only will I have forgotten most things but also
my brain will be working at half speed so I am in sitting in the study thinking
back through the days events rather than out on the veranda annoying Lindsay.
Lindsay says that I get so absorbed that when she puts the food in front of me
that she has spent an hour or so preparing I totally ignore it. The words
compromise and consideration, never a forte of mine, stand out in big letters.
Tot Club Keep Fit is back on the trail we did two weeks ago (and the others did
a week ago but we missed). Terry asks who has previously used a chain saw.
Having owned a couple I admit to a limited amount of knowledge, secretly
pleased that cutting down trees with a chain saw is going to be a lot easier than
with a hand saw. I could not have been more wrong. The chain saw is so blunt
it is burning rather than cutting through the trunks. I have visions of two boy
scouts being rubbed together. Lindsay says all see can see of me are clouds of
smoke.
A major surprise are the cacti (cactuses?) which are not only spiky, very tall but
also extremely solid. I had presumed them to be a mushy pulp. Far from it.
The middle section is a very hard wood. To make matters worse, they are a
very strange shape (anyone who has seen an American cartoon with a desert
scene knows exactly the shape to which I am referring). Because of the
distribution of the branches you have absolutely no idea which way they are
going to fall. Most of the time I am reasonably successful in guessing but when
Len’s baldish head suddenly produced a No. 3 crew cut of cactus spines rather
than hair, I realise my failure to call ‘timber’ has resulted in Len looking and
acting somewhat more sprightly than his 70 years,

Being somewhat more cautious with a larger than usual specimen I cut most of
the way through the trunk. Thinking I can force it to fall in a desired direction I
aim a well directed kick. The spines on these cacti are like nails. The plant
obviously sneers at my attempt and retaliates by spearing one of its spines
through my shoe and into the sole of my foot. Len or no Len, from now on I am
cutting the trunks all the way through.
Having thought I had picked the easy job, I soon realise this is not the case.
Apart from the bluntness of the blade and the weight of the machine, I have now
developed seven blisters on my hands. To make matters worse, I am sure
everyone else thinks I have the cushy job so I have to keep working regardless.
At one stage, having cut down numerous cacti and small trees, I try to clear
some of the debris. A small tree is in my way, compressed by the weight of
timber I have cut down on top of it. Taking a handsaw, I cut it out of the way.
Once liberated, the bent trunk leaps up and whacks me on the end of the nose,
in passing, extracting my cigar from my mouth. The sapling is not entirely
inconsiderate, catching my falling cigar in a fork of its branches only inches
away from me.
In the U.K. I have always avoided anything to do with gardening. I come to
‘paradise’ and what do I end up doing – gardening. What’s more, from the
blood on my clothing the cacti are obviously getting the better of our
encounters. Maybe there is a God after all and this is His retribution.
I am booked in for sailing in the afternoon. A race off Falmouth and English
Harbour and I am crewing on a Swan 36. The boat is picking me up in
Falmouth at 1.30 and having finished ‘keep fit’ at twelve I am not feeling in the
best shape for a sail. The boat arrives with two women and a non-sailor (I only
refer to the two women because it is pertinent later). There is some doubt as to
whether the race will take place. In the end another boat arrives and the two of
us set off. The women have decided (against my advice) that a reef is required
(in 10 knots of wind!!). It’s a downwind start and it is immediately apparent we
don’t need the reef so we shake it out. One of the women is on the helm and at
no time do I see her look at the tell-tails. In fact, from where she is helming, she
cannot even see them. To make matters worse she and the other woman chat
non-stop. Not the way I am used to racing.
We are supposed to go around a buoy off English Harbour and return to
Falmouth to finish but since the Swan is based in English Harbour the skipper of
the Swan decided to retire and go into English Harbour. Throughout the race
the skipper has complained at poor boat speed. I am not surprised since the
boat is never being steered according to the wind. In fact, one of the first things
I did when we went on a beat was to adjust the headsail leach line. I could see
slight looks of astonishment at my action.

Once from the race, the skipper offers me the helm. A few minutes later she
comments that there must be more wind as we are going faster. I don’t dare
point out that I am concentrating on sailing the boat rather than chatting to the
crew. In due course the wind does pick up (together with some rain, but at least
it is warm rain). I am not surprised they had been concerned about reefing. In
only 20 knots of wind the boat is quite heavily over pressed and becomes a bit
of a handful. In my boat, not a lot larger but with about double the sail area, I
would never have considered reefing in under 30 knots of wind.
I have always thought Swans, rather like Ferraris and Porches, to be over rated
and over priced. If it’s necessary to reef a heavy cruiser in 20 knots of wind then
there is something fundamentally wrong with the design.
A first for me is to sail onto a buoy. Not a difficult manoeuvre but something you
never do as a racing sailor in the U.K.. We always have pontoon berths.
Someone we have known vaguely for some years is having a birthday party on
Galleon Beach. Lindsay had gone ahead taking some food and I telephone her
asking her to collect me. We have the problem of deciding whether to join the
sailors at the yacht club or return to the party. Fortunately, all the sailors have
decided to go to the party.
Despite being absolutely shattered we make the mistake of going to the Tot.
Not necessarily a mistake in itself but they decide to have a ‘Black Mass’. This
is a tot after the normal tot when one is required to drink up the rum which has
been poured back. That is the beginning of a slippery slope which ends in us
staying for dinner in ’Life’. At least one good thing comes out of it. One of the
local car cleaners gives my car a wash although he quotes me EC$10 (about
£2), once finished he tries to claim it was US$. I point to my Antiguan
registration plates and he realises we were not tourists. I do relent a bit since it
is a large car and was very dirty and give him EC$20.
-
Day 24 – Monday. Nothing much to report today as we go into the office at 8
and don’t leave until quarter to six. It is becoming increasingly apparent that
Lindsay is not used to working the long hours that I have done over the years in
the U.K., usually arriving at the office between 8.30 and 9 then not leaving until
between 7 and 8. By four in the afternoon, Lindsay is ready to go home. That
comes from having been a civil servant. The sooner we can find her a car the
better.
Quite unbelievably, our ‘phone line is still refusing to accept international calls
despite numerous requests to Cable & Wireless. Another call to them elicits a
promise it will be connected immediately. Two hours later and no change. I
break the rule everyone says you should never do. I ring Cable & Wireless and
get angry, accusing them of costing us business. The ‘phone line is connected
within 2 minutes.

An e-mail to Mike Relling, a sailmaker in New Zealand who I would like to act
for as an agent in Antigua, produces a positive response except that he is
leaving for the U.K. on Wednesday, hopefully to tie up a few more orders from
people I introduced him to in Brighton. I was always very pleased with the sails
Mike made for me.
One highlight of the day. At lunch time I got out to get sandwiches and turn on
the car radio. It is permanently tuned to the BBC World Service, the nearest
equivalent to Radio 4 but more like Breakfast Television since everything is
repeated regularly. The news tells me the French have voted against the
European Constitution. The French do have some uses after all.
We are still unable to get an Apple Mac computer. All the U.S. companies who
advertise them on their websites will not export them so we have come up with
a solution. We will take a day trip to Puerto Rica which will have a dual benefit.
We can also renew our visas without having to queue at the Immigration
Department. Whilst searching the internet for flights to Puerto Rica and being
somewhat irritated by Lastminute.com which headed the list but only quotes for
flights from the U.K., I come across an article from a girl who had been an
accidental transit passenger at Antigua airport.
She was diverted to Antigua, disembarked and forced to stay in the departure
lounge for several hours. For those who have experienced the departure
lounge at V. C. Bird International Airport they will know it is not one of the
world’s most pleasurable experiences. This girl condemned the whole of
Antigua based on this one experience and is recommending that people not
visit the island as a result. Secretly, I might support her if it would cause the
Government to do something about that dreadful lounge but I doubt they will. I
am more tempted to write and tell her not to be so blinkered but then it occurs to
me that she must be one of the more enlightened 7.8% of Americans who hold
a passport and therefore travels abroad. After all, George W thought the world
ended at the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans and he became President – twice!
Leaving the office rather late and the Tot being held at ‘Life’ just a hundred
yards down the road, it seems churlish not to go. In a way it is just as well
because it reminds me of two things which happened yesterday and, therefore,
has given me a little more writing material.
Last night we ran into a couple we have met on a number of our visits to
Antigua. They operate a large yacht for some wealthy owner and are only
occasionally in Antigua. The husband, Roger, I first met in Brighton in 1988
when he was part of a crew who borrowed my first yacht, a Sigma 33, for a
series of races. From memory, they did rather well. More interesting was a
comment made by his wife, Lisa. Somehow the village of Ditchling was raised
in our conversation. Having had a ten year battle with the residents of Ditchling
who deliberately blocked the traffic through the village, my route to and from
work and, eventually, having won the battle, I was not Ditchling’s most popular

person. However, I was a little disappointed not to recognise Lisa’s uncle’s
name. He can’t have been one of the activists.
The second thing I remembered were the actions of the local Coast Guard.
Tied up nearby was a small, elderly yacht. Six heavily armed Coast Guard
officers arrived on a small motor boat and boarded the yacht. Each of them
was carrying an Armalite automatic rifle. I understand the yacht had been
apprehended at about 6am carrying illegal immigrants from Jamaica (obviously
the problem is not limited to the U.K.). I found it difficult to comprehend the
necessity for the arsenal of weapons when the illegals had skipped ashore at
dawn and were hiding out somewhere on the island, certainly nowhere near the
boat.
Even more puzzling, one of their number removed the tiller and, having done
so, fixed it back in place again. Two of the officers spent some time below,
presumably searching whilst the other four lounged around on deck, their guns
waving and pointing in every direction. I felt we were in imminent danger of
being accidentally shot.
Having completed their task or the gathering darkness preventing them from
extending their search any further they boarded their boat and set off but just for
a few yards. The engine stalled and the strong smell of petrol which
accompanied the numerous attempts at a restart evidently indicated a flooded
engine. To add to their woes, the battery was becoming progressively weaker.
I suggested in a load voice they might turn out all their lights which may assist in
starting the engine. Although I doubt they heard me, the lights went out and the
engine started immediately. A loud cheer went up from the bar.
The illegals boat is still tied to the dock 24 hours later with sails scattered across
the deck and hatches open. I comment it will probably still be there in a year’s
time if the termites haven’t eaten it. It’s a plywood boat, perfect termite food.
As seems to have become a habit of late, we fall into conversation with Len.
Len is an American so he starts with a disadvantage, however, unlike most
Americans of my experience, Len is well travelled, has led a very interesting life
and has a knack which seems to elude most Americans, he is able to tell you
about his achievements without appearing boastful. We enjoy his company.
These long hours are taking their toll on Lindsay, she manages to fall asleep,
back at home, whilst I am preparing dinner and making my diary entries. I think
that’s ‘30 all’.
Day 25 – Tuesday. Lindsay had decides it’s about time the office has a good
clean and the waste bins are getting rather full so she takes a broom, duster,
polish and some bin liners from the house. I start by emptying the bins and two
enormous cockroaches leap out of Lindsay’s bin. Presumably they have been
feeding on the sandwich wrappings. The lead cockroach goes to ground under

one of the small filing cabinets whilst the other scuttles around looking for
somewhere to hide. Too late, Lindsay is after it with the broom. With a few
deft, ice hockey style strokes and the cockroach is swept out of the door and
over the veranda. The other cockroach, feeling safe in its sanctuary beneath
the filing cabinet is blissfully unaware the cabinet has wheels and they work as
it was one the one I built rather than the one built by the furniture suppliers.
Lindsay stands poised with the broom whilst I move the cabinet. The cockroach
is so startled it fails to react and Lindsay’s first stroke flips it onto its back.
Struggling with its legs in the air a couple of more strokes of the brush sees it at
the edge of the veranda whereupon, seeing its impending doom, it does a very
rare thing for a cockroach, takes to its wings and flies away.
The excitement over, Lindsay sweeps the floor and polishes the desks and I
take the rubbish to the collection area. No sooner have we sat down to work
than the air-conditioning engineers arrive and proceed to drill holes everywhere.
Within ten minutes the whole office is covered in a thick layer of dust.
The air-conditioning is a real success except that we still have no glass in the
windows so we have to work with the shutters closed and the lights on. Not all
is perfect, a lot of the cold air is escaping through the edges of the shutters
(holding a hand to the gaps you can feel a really noticeable cold blast). Also,
because the air-conditioning unit is fixed to one wall the cold air does not
circulate particularly well. I try the fan on its lowest setting which has the
desired affect but just stirs the papers on the desks, something the airconditioning
had been designed to overcome but, at least they are no longer
blowing all over the office. Three of the windows arrive by the end of the day
so, partial daylight could be imminent.
I have appointments in town and it is not until I am halfway there I realise I have
left my cigars in the office. By the time I return, not having had lunch or
anything to drink find myself relegated to the veranda for a smoke since I have
agreed not to smoke in the office once the air-conditioning is fitted.
First stop is at the bank. No queues at the Premier service branch but I am
directed to another part of the branch despite the fact that only one person is
being served at the cash desk. I am told it will be quicker if I go to this other
office. No sooner do I arrive and sit down with, again, only one person being
served in front of me than I am redirected back to the place from where I
started. Apparently the person being served there is just finishing. I take a seat
in front of the teller. Very civilised. I write my cheque, the teller type the
amount into his computer and sits back. Every few minutes he pulls at what
appeared to be a draw under his desk which fails to open. He refers again to
his computer, again waits a few minutes and tries the draw again,
unsuccessfully. At about the third attempt, he is successful. Not particularly
swift but at least it is all done in comfort and I now understood why it was felt I

should move to another part of the branch where there may not have been a
queue even if it was only one person.
My first appointment is at the airport and Alexis tells me the office is on the first
floor. Standing on the first floor at the precise location of the offices I can see
nothing that resembles the name of the company. I telephone and the person I
am supposed to meet says they will come and find me. 15 minutes goes by
and no sign of anyone. Is this the usual Antiguan time delay? Should I ring
again? I ring and am told the offices have moved and they are waiting for me
directly below where I am standing.
Whenever you walk anywhere near a taxi rank voices always enquire whether
you require a taxi. I’m never quite sure why since they are very obviously taxis
and if you want one you would go and get it. My luck in parking in St. John’s is
getting better and I find a space a few yards from where I know my next
appointment to be. If the taxi drivers lounging around their vehicles didn’t see
me get out of my car they must have been blind and it would have been unsafe
to take a ride with one of them. Nevertheless, the usual call of ‘Taxi?’ confronts
me. I approach the nearest driver and ask him directions to my next
appointment. He turns around and points to a building less than 100 yards
away, commenting that even he would not charge me for that distance.
One thing I am beginning to notice as I drive around are the number of cars for
sale privately. This is probably why none of the dealers have second hand
cars. A rather smart, small car is parked on a lot beside the road with no
obvious building relating to it. Stuck to the car are three notices which say ‘For
Sale by Owner’ – a notice I have seen available in stationary shops. There is a
white space on the slips for a telephone number. None of the three slips
contains a number. Further down the road I notice Hertz are disposing of three
rather smart looking Nissans at very reasonable prices. I am immediately
accosted by one of their staff who tries to sell me a Toyota which he claims to
own. I agree to look at it later and meet him back at the airport where upon he
jumped into my car and tells me the Toyota is no longer available but he has a
Nissan which someone is driving towards the airport and we can meet him
down the road.
We meet with the other driver and the car is yet another lowered and totally
unsuitable vehicle. I do find it strange how many locals lower the suspension
on their cars when the roads are so unsuitable, particularly, the massive speed
bumps.
It is these speed bumps which make driving to and from St. John’s a bit of a
chore. In the U.K. I enjoyed my drive to and from work. Once out of the towns I
would let rip with the car and throw it down the country lanes. The road
between St. John’s and English Harbour is generally better than the road from
my office in the U.K. to home except that every time you hit a fast bit you also
get massive speed bumps. There is no point in overtaking anyone because you

are immediately confronted with a mountain to crawl over. A 4 x 4 out here is
not only needed for the side roads but also to deal with the intentional
obstructions on the main roads.
Something I see today puzzles me, a left-hand drive 3 Series BMW with the
registration GB 1. In Antigua all private cars have white plates with a black
letter ‘A’ and a random series of numbers. Commercial vehicles, a red ‘C’ and
red numbers on a white background, Government vehicles a black ‘G’, etc. on a
yellow background, taxis ‘TX’ and buses ‘BUS’, both black on yellow
backgrounds. Even the diplomatic cars have a yellow ‘CD’ on a blue
background so the BMW isn’t one of those. This GB 1 is blue on a white
background. Maybe the Antiguan Government have started selling number
plates and, perhaps, I can get the numbers I used to have in the U.K., DUF 1
and 1 DUF
Day 26 – Wednesday. In one respect going to St. John’s is almost as bad as
yesterday. This time I remember my cigars but Alexis is an avid anti-smoker
and we are going in his car. Alexis has a photo shoot at the shop of one of the
advertisers and I am acting as his ‘assistant’. He gives me the less heavy bags
to carry. I’m not sure whether that is a joke or not but I’m glad we only walk one
hundred yards. The shop sells sports equipment, is jammed packed with goods
and L-shaped. Not ideal for a photograph. The owner wants to show as many
of her wares as possible within the photo. Alexis has me rearranging the stock,
chasing customers out, holding lights and generally setting up and taking apart
the equipment. His kit is very impressive but when I find an extension lead with
multi-coloured sockets to plug it all in not only do I fuse all the power but a UPS
(uninterrupted power supply unit) starts wailing like a wounded donkey. My
career as a photographer’s assistant is about to come to an abrupt end. Apart
from burning my hand on the arc light (I had wondered about the noise it was
emitting, apparently it was a cooling fan) there are no more dramas and the
shoot is over in about an hour.
After a few visits to other customers we set off for Jolly Harbour, somewhere I
always have difficulty in finding except by one road which starts near the south
end of the island and we are in the north. Fortunately, Alexis knows the road
and it becomes immediately apparent where I had gone wrong last time I tried
to find my way there from St. John’s. Jolly Harbour is a large, modern complex
situated rather remotely on the west side. It is advertised everywhere but there
is not a single signpost anywhere directing you to its location.
Our first appointment is one o’clock and we decide to use the spare time seeing
a few people to whom we have spoken plus others we call in on the off chance.
Those tasks completed Alexis decides it’s time for lunch. We stop at one of the
restaurants and Alexis orders a main course. I was anticipating just having a
sandwich but decide to join him and order the fish special of the day. Not being
a great fish fan but determined to try new things I order the fish of the day

(neither Alexis nor the waitress had any idea what the fish was other than it was
not Red Snapper). The fish was delicious and responsible for my downfall later.
The marina manager, Festus Isaac, is a great character and even shows us
some jokes regarding the ‘world’s best husbands’ e-mailed to his computer. We
talk more about his problems than the business in hand but it keeps us busy
until our next meeting with the owner of the Dog Watch Tavern and home to the
Jolly Harbour Yacht Club. I realise I have met the owner before and, together
with his partner, we discuss the Dog Watch Tavern and its uniqueness in
Antigua. It is the nearest thing to an English pub and full of character despite
being in a modern building. Amongst the many trophies hanging from the
ceiling is a one bladed fan, the result of a prank by a bunch of drunken sailors.
As we leave the complex Alexis suggests we stop at a new supermarket. I ring
Lindsay and ask if there was anything she wants. Apart from bread she advises
me to buy anything I think appropriate. Having enjoyed my fish lunch I stop at
the fish counter and make a few purchases. Alexis appears from between two
isles with cans of John Smiths bitter in hand. In the U.K., nothing on earth
would have persuaded me to drink such rubbish but here were cans of nectar. I
buy 4 and, for good measure, a couple of cans of Guinness.
Alexis is one of those drivers who believes that the faster you go the smoother
the road. It works very well with hire cars but I would have been somewhat
concerned for my suspension had it been my car. It occurs to me afterwards
that we are in his wife’s car so maybe that is the equivalent of a hire car.
Back at the office three of the windows have been fitted but with gaps you could
almost walk through. I had ‘phoned Lindsay on several occasions to the sounds
of drilling and banging. The landlord, who had fitted them himself, is on his
hands and knees clearing up the mess. After the dust the air-conditioning fitters
created I don’t think he dared leave it to Lindsay.
Lindsay asks me what I am cooking for dinner. I suggest she prepare the
potatoes and I will do the rest. I decide to cook the fish in a tomato, herb and
butter sauce and serve them with mashed potatoes and the Birds Eye peas I
had found in the supermarket. The fish must have been a relative of the one I
bought the other day. It is so salty as to be almost, but not quite, uneatable.
Lindsay has neglected her responsibility and fallen asleep. A smell of burning
from the kitchen alerts me to the fact that the water in the potato pan has run
dry. Singed bits scrapped off I managed passable mashed potatoes.
Having put the John Smiths in the freezer, Lindsay and I share a can and to
prove that even the worst bitter in the world can taste good when you are stuck
with lager I have a second.

Day 27 – Thursday. My mobile ‘phone is not talking to me again (I must get
used to saying “cell ‘phone”. Every time I say “mobile” the person on the other
end says “What?”) .
As I drive to St. John’s I am forced to plug in my U.K. mobile in order to ring the
office. Two new messages show up. One was from an international
employment agency with whom I had been in contact when trying to buy the
marine electronics company, the other from Amanda (friend from Brighton who,
with husband Rob, is about to embark in their yacht on a round the world trip
and will be here at Christmas). She is somewhat miffed because they haven’t
received copies of the diary. Amanda has three e-mail addresses and copies
were sent to all three. The fact that she and Rob now have a fourth and haven’t
told me is hardly my fault. I ring her on a very broken line and tell her so.
I have made mention to Lindsay about ringing the U.K. and chatting for 15 or 20
minutes at 91p per minute. Although the poor line to Amanda kept our
conversation brief it didn’t protect me from Lindsay’s raised eyebrows when I
told her. Before anyone jumps to any conclusions, I always ring Amanda
because Rob never, ever answers his ‘phone and I’m not sure he even has it
turned on.
Frustrated with my ‘phone and contemplating going to a different telephone
company, I see a parking space right outside the ‘phone company with whom I
have a contract. I go in with both my ‘phones, one containing my U.K. SIM card
and showing a very strong signal from a rival telephone company and the other
‘phone showing no signal. At the desk I explain my problem and hand over
both ‘phones. My U.K. ‘phone promptly switches its signal from the rival
company to the telephone company about which I am complaining. The word
‘Traitor’ comes to mind. The girl behind the desk blames my ‘phone so we
swap SIM cards over and both ‘phones work perfectly. I think there is
something wrong with the SIM card but will have to wait until it happens again
and hope I am in St. John’s.
Back in the car I need to contact the office and yell “Office” at my voice
activated ‘phone. Nothing happens. Well, yes it does. The ‘phone tells me the
instruction is not recognised. This happens occasionally so I yell “Office” again.
Still nothing. I then realise that I had programmed the voice activations into the
other ‘phone which now contains my U.K. SIM card. A brief stop beside the
road to swap ‘phones and SIM cards bring everything back to normal.
One of the many things that puzzles me about this country is the way nobody
knows where anywhere is. Twice today I ask directions. The first time I am in
the car and only a couple of hundred yards from my destination yet I have to
ask half a dozen people before I receive the information I require. On finding
the road I cannot locate the property but, in a road of wooden bungalows
(known as BEEWEE houses) I come across the High Commission for Guyana,
in a wooden bungalow. More amazing, just around the corner, in a similar

property, is the French High Commission. Lindsay and I had commented on a
sign near the airport which pointed into a housing estate and displayed the word
‘Chinese Embassy’. Being unable to locate the premises of the business I
telephone. It is in the same bungalow as the High Commission for Guyana.
My second attempt at getting directions is in St. John’s. I park the car near the
centre of town and set out on foot to find a hardware store in order to purchase
a catch for the office door (it won’t stay shut and is letting out our nice cool, airconditioned
atmosphere.) Nearby is a large store which vaguely looks as
though it might sell what I want. It doesn’t. I ask if there are any shops which
might. The assistant points to one across the street and gives me the names of
two others, pointing in opposite directions as she does so. The one across the
street doesn’t sell catches so I set off in the direction one of the stores indicated
earlier. I have the name of the shop and the street name but after a few
intersections I can’t see any sign of either. I stop someone and ask for
directions. They are explicit and I follow them to the letter but no sign of the
road or the shop. I then run across someone I happened to chat to in a café a
few days earlier. He knows the street and the shop and even leads me halfway
there. Eventually, I find the street but not the shop. On my way there I pass
another hardware shop. They have something which will suffice but isn’t really
what I am looking for. I tell them I might return. Return I do.
St. John’s is like a multi-storey car park except on a single plane. All the streets
are fairly short and there is parking down both sides, mainly chevron style. The
whole city is a bit of a maze. By now I have walked some distance from the car
and begin to have that sinking feeling you get when you can’t remember on
which level of the multi-storey car park you left your car. The car has a ‘panic’
feature on the key fob which flashes the lights and sounds the horn and was
demonstrated to me by the salesman (woman) as a means of finding the car.
Since the remote only seems to operate from about 5 feet away I think I
probably would have seen the car by then. Fortunately, I am able to back track
and find the road in which I had parked.
Determined to find this shop, mainly to try to get a better catch, rather than for
any other reason, I set off in the car but with no more success. Coming towards
the end of a road I see a car park and decide to turn around in it. Noticing an
exit on the other side of the car park which will take me nearer to my way out of
town, I drive through the exit. It is only after I have gone about 400 yards up the
road I realise the waving pedestrians and other motorists are indicating I am
driving the wrong way up a one-way street.
Back at the office I receive a call from Alexis inviting me to join him at 4.30 at a
meeting of the Antigua Marine Trades Association. I tell Lindsay that if the
meeting goes on for more than an hour I will leave and collect her. I had
presumed this to be a public meeting but it turns out to be a Committee Meeting
and I am one of only 9 there and not a member of the Committee. I can hardly
get up and walk out. Lindsay is not best amused when I return to the office at

6.15. I make up for it by cooking dinner and giving Lindsay the chance to
redeem herself. I leave the potatoes on a high gas and she turns them down.
Even out here John Smiths beer, once it gets warm, is just as disgusting as it is
in the U.K.. But, whilst cooking, I find a solution. Place the glass in the freezer
between sips. I might have to install a freezer on the veranda or learn to drink
more quickly.
Day 28 – Friday. One of the things Lindsay does first thing in the morning is to
sweep over the polished boards of the living room. Having the doors open both
ends blows in a bit of dust. For some reason which defeats me, Lindsay
sweeps the dust towards the veranda and then over the edge. Unfortunately,
this is into the prevailing wind so half the dust flies back again. Added to this
are the ants. Being swept along with the dust they immediately scuttle back
behind the broom again. I make comment to Lindsay on the futility of the
exercise and she responds with some logical explanation. Unfortunately, it is
female logic and the two words ‘female’ and ‘logic’ are not mutually compatible.
Our idea of killing two birds with one stone is dead in the water. Puerto Rica
won’t have the type of computer we want for a fortnight so we will have to go to
immigration. We have been advised to take a book, be patient, smile and say
as little as possible, definitely making no reference to Work Permits.
We arrive at the Immigration Department and are seen almost immediately. A
very pleasant lady asks us lots of questions and we stick to our story that we
are in Antigua looking for land but are having difficulty and need an extension to
our visas. She asks how we intend to support ourselves and we reply we have
sufficient funds in the bank.
Lindsay goes on to explain that we have sold our house in the U.K.. I kick her.
If we have sold our house in the U.K. do have any intention of going back?
I had noticed a Cashiers window and it occurs to me there may be a fee. There
is, EC$50 per person per month of the extension. Since the nice lady offers us
three month extensions it’s EC$300 and I have only EC$250 on me and
Lindsay has none plus they don’t take credit cards or cheques. I rush to the
‘hole in the wall’ at the bank and return to find Lindsay still talking to the
Immigration Officer and our paperwork just being completed. There are
advantages, sometimes, to things taking their time in Antigua. We pay our
EC$300 and leave, all in ¾ of an hour and I don’t even get a chance to open my
book. Either we are lucky or everyone exaggerates the problems with
Immigration.
We were obliged to have our ‘phones turned off in the Immigration Office and
turning mine back on again I find I have several messages including one from
the shipping company. They want to deliver our container.

We have a few things to do including collecting the Company Stamp from a
shop which made it and deliver it to the solicitor. These tasks completed we call
at the shippers office. They are ready to deliver the container almost
immediately. Whilst waiting we go to our post office box which is nearby and
collect any mail which includes a letter from Lindsay’s grandmother, posted 14
days earlier and a membership reminder for me for one of my U.K. yacht clubs.
Together with the shipping contractor, we meet the container lorry on the road
and lead it the house. I am somewhat concerned that the lorry may have
difficulty in reaching the house due nature of the roads. Neither the driver nor
the shipping contractor have any such concerns and the lorry, sometimes
struggling a bit, makes it to the house. The main difficulty is getting the
container into the driveway. With some deft manoeuvring the driver manages to
place the trailer alongside the house and unhitches it. What I had not realised
was that once unhitched the front end of the trailer on which the container is
perched cannot not be raised or lowered and is now parked on a 30 degree
slope with the doors on the back. It will be necessary to find a way of lowering
the front or several tons of furniture will end up in the garden once the doors are
opened.
The shipping agent tells us that the Customs Office will arrive any time after
3.30 but probably at 4.30. By 5 there is no sign of anyone. A call to the
shipping agent’s office reveals an answerphone message with an almost
indecipherable mobile ‘phone number. After about ten attempts at listening to
the number and a bit of intelligent guesswork, I think I know the number. I try it
and a lady answers with the words “Speak to me, honey.” I ask for the shipping
agent and she replies with “What do you want to tell me, darling?” I begin to
think I have accidentally telephoned one of these ‘chat-up’ lines and am about
to put the ‘phone down when a male voice comes on the line. It’s the shipping
agent. His office should have called us and told us the Customs Officer is not
coming until Monday. I am a little relieved since it gives us time to consider
ways to level the container. Visions of being deported for burying a Customs
Officer under tons of furniture recede.
In the evening we are accosted by Mike Rose who is returning to the U.K. for a
month with his partner Anne. Will we look after his two dogs for a month? We
agree to talk to our landlord.
Day 30 – Sunday. We join Tot Club Keep Fit in the morning and fed up with
being turned away at the dockyard gates in the car I decide to try to bluff my
way through. We are successful but unbeknown to me Terry has already
warned the guard we are coming.
Another morning of clearing undergrowth and Terry gives me the ‘cushy’ job
again because I am wearing long trousers, the strimmer. It looks easy and to
begin with it appears so but after half an hour, half bent over with a ten pound

machine vibrating in my hands I begin to have second thoughts, in fact, I begin
to hope it will run out of petrol since I know we have no extra with us.
Lindsay makes me stop for a drink of water and my hands are shaking so much
I nearly drop the bottle. I accuse Terry of bringing on the palsy in me. When I
am halfway down the upper part of the trail and feeling quite pleased with
myself at the swath I have cut through the grass, the petrol runs out. Now I am
disappointed because I want to finish the path.
The clearing party had been split in two, one starting at the bottom of the trail
and the other at the top. We meet in the middle. The others continue up and
we work our way down, each party intending to cut back the bits the other may
have missed. Immediately, I come across a stump buried in the middle of the
path and decide to cut it out. Being rotten it only takes about ten minutes.
Feeling quite pleased with myself I attack some small, but still fairly substantial
trees, to widen the path by about another five feet. Kevin, a visitor from the
U.K. who is struggling with the heat, gives me a hand and cannot believe the
amount of effort it takes working in this heat. I am not the only one who tells
him it is at least 10 degrees cooler than the previous week.
The first twenty yards of the lower part of the trail is now widened by about a
further five feet and, again, I am feeling quite pleased with myself. Next, in the
middle of the path is another tree stump. No problem, I have already removed
one except this one is mahogany. I start attacking it. I continue attacking as
the rest of the party moves on ahead. The rest of the party disappears out of
sight and I am still attacking it. At one point, in desperation, I jump on the stump
hoping to break through the cut I have made. I should have learnt my lesson
from the cactus. I now have a large graze and bruise on my shin where the
stump bit back.
Lindsay comes to find out what has happened to me. My arms are about to fall
off and I am only about halfway through part of the stump. Lindsay volunteers
to have a go and we take it in turns, Lindsay, encouragingly, when I am cutting,
saying “It’s nearly through”. I am not sure whether she really believes it or
whether she wants me to keep sawing so she doesn’t have to take over.
Eventually, the stump gives way and Lindsay picks up the piece of mahogany
saying she would like to keep it. As it is about half a mile up hill to the car, I
suggest, if she wants it she collects it on another day.
Terry and Connie have invited us to lunch and a swim in their pool. I do point
out to Terry that the only useful things I have found for water are for sailing on
and occasionally putting in whisky and that the last time I deliberately went in
the water was about fifteen years ago. (I did accidentally fall off the boat about
three years ago but that doesn’t count). Despite this I do go in for a swim and
realise I have been right all along. Millions of years ago the ancestors of the
human race struggled to extract themselves from the primordial soup and I can
find no reason to go back again.

Terry must have been taking lessons from me. Nearly every time I have been
in the water, accidental or deliberate, I have had a cigar in my mouth, so has
Terry.
Terry and Connie are looking after two dogs. Both are quite nervous, one
friendly nervous and the other shy nervous. The friendly one overcomes its
timidity quite quickly particularly once the food arrives but the other remains
distant despite all my attempts at enticement. After lunch, everyone crashes
out for a siesta, Lindsay in a hammock, only safe after she stops me rocking
her. I fall asleep on a sun lounger and wake up to the shy dog being petted by
Lindsay. Determined not to be defeated I make greater attempts to befriend the
animal and eventually succeed. It will be interesting to see how she reacts next
time we visit.
We end the day with a roast dinner at ‘Life’.
-
Day 31 – Monday. Lindsay gets up at about six to go for a run and while she is
out of sight I begin planning how I can lift the front of the container just enough
to take the pressure off the legs in order to raise them, thereby lowering the
front of the container.
Yesterday I borrowed a four ton jack from Roger but it has a very short lift. I
build a tower from the many concrete blocks Sandy has left around and try
jacking up the trailer. It leans dangerously to one side. I reposition the blocks
but with the same effect. The third position of the blocks causes the jack to tilt.
By this time Lindsay is back and somewhat concerned. I am not sure whether it
is for my welfare, for Sandy’s house or the contents of the container. She
persuades me to ring the shippers who say they will deal with it when they
arrive.
We have an appointment with an agent at ten, the same one who didn’t turn up
on Friday. We arrive at his office to be told he has changed the appointment to
twelve. Thanks for telling us. Lindsay is all for advising the agent to forget it but
I persuade her otherwise and we meet him at twelve. He shows us all kinds of
unsuitable plots and, almost as an afterthought, a plot near the office. It’s the
best we have seen and very similar to the one we liked at Christmas. We tell
him we will consider it seriously. Also, it will give us a very strong bargaining
tool in our discussions on the other plot. Lindsay says she would prefer to buy
from this agent because he is a local. Quite a change of heart.
As we are driving along my ‘phone rings. I see the agent scrabbling for the
‘phone in his pocket as I flip open my fitted ‘phone and a voice booms out from
the footwell where I have installed my speaker. The look on the agent’s face is
worth a photograph.

We leave the office at four to meet the Customs Officer at 4.30 but, as might be
expected, he doesn’t turn up. At quarter past five I ring Maddox, the head of the
shipping company. His mobile ‘phone is on message service. I wonder how
long we should wait. We are going out to dinner.
Bored with waiting I decide to have another go at lowering the container. How
come when you revisit a problem it is always easier? I discover by inserting a
screwdriver into a rotating rod which raises and lowers the legs I can turn it with
consummate ease. Starting cautiously and scoring the legs to establish
whether I am raising or lowering them, I mange to reduce the height quite
quickly. My confidence builds and I unwind the legs faster amid disturbing
creaks and groans. Suddenly there is a crack from behind me and I turn around
to see a piece of wood Lindsay had placed behind one of the wheels (quite
uselessly) fall to the ground. Rather than the trailer running backward, as had
been my fear, I am dragging it forward. There is still the ever present danger of
the container falling sideways (onto me). One leg is still perilously perched
about an inch from the ground. I decide to use the blocks Lindsay and I had
collected earlier as a support for one corner. Nicely in place, I lower the trailer
onto the blocks and the top one splits in half just as Sandy, to whom these
blocks belong, arrives on the scene. Fortunately, his only comment is to
suggest it is about time he cleared up the mess in the garden. I am reluctant to
agree.
It’s six twenty and still no sign of the Customs Officer. I had been led to believe
they like these assignments. Past four o’clock and it’s overtime. Apparently,
Customs Officers like to call in the late afternoon, leave after a few minutes but
sign themselves out until midnight. Obviously, since we are a bit remote there
is work involved in the overtime.
I ring Maddox, except that Lindsay tells me his name is Mannix. I think to
myself, I will tell him what ‘manic’ means. This time rather than a message
service a lady answers the ‘phone. Disappointingly, she is less familiar than the
previous one but puts me through to Mannix. He tells me he has been trying to
contact me. As far as I recollect it is his ‘phone which has been switched off,
not mine. The Customs Officer is now coming tomorrow at one or, maybe,
4.30.
Today is the sixty first anniversary of D-Day (for those who don’t know, the
beginning of the time when we freed Europe from Nazi oppression and
defeated the Germans with a bit of belated help from the Americans). The Tot
Club holds an anniversary dinner accompanied by excerpts from Churchill’s
speeches and stirring martial music. Despite there being a number of exservicemen
present plus a few second world war survivors, I find my knowledge
of the events far greater than theirs. Lindsay frequently kicks me under the
table as I correct some of their glaring historical errors.

Sitting next to us is a Canadian who appears to be prematurely grey but more
probably is my senior. The only reason I can think that he may be prematurely
grey is that he has no knowledge, at all, of the Second World War, surely he
must be American. I am reluctant to upset him since he owns some very nice
plots of land. I let Lindsay chat to him.
For an Antiguan night out, this is very late and to make it worse, it’s Monday (or,
as it’s after midnight, Tuesday) and I have a nine o’clock appointment in St.
John’s.
Day 32 - Tuesday, We have now spent a month in Antigua and it feels much
more like home despite the fact that all our worldly possessions are sitting in a
container in the garden. The Customs Officer should be here this afternoon and
I will at least be able to have something different to wear. Lindsay was
convinced that I would be wearing shorts, something I have done only rarely. I
have a pile of unworn shorts and only three pairs of long trousers, one pair of
which are only suitable for sailing and ‘keep fit’.
We are about to have our showers before going to work when the power cuts
off and that means no water. I reset the inverter which only last a few minutes.
I have visions of soapy hair and no water. By disconnecting the ‘fridge I
manage to keep enough power going for us to have showers. As soon as I plug
the ‘fridge back in the inverter trips out. Our saviour, Charlie, is on his way and
we leave for the office in the hope that we do not return home to find we will
have to eat the whole contents of the ‘fridge before it goes off.
Driving into St. John’s I discover there is a small locker above my rear view
mirror perfectly shaped for holding sun glasses. Since I never wear sunglasses
it is pretty useless to me. I decide not to tell Lindsay since I know she will
forever be putting her glasses in it and then forget where they are. I notice four
switches adjacent to the locker. Two are evidently for interior lights so I press
one of the others and the sun roof slides back. Pretty useless in this climate
since it immediately lets out all the cool air. I forget to try the other switch so
still don’t know what it does. At some stage I must find the fog light switch.
Although I doubt this country has had fog since the last ice age, half the
Antiguans drive around at night with their fog lights on and full beam. There are
times when I would like to retaliate. In fact, I was so blinded on one occasion
that I failed to see a goat which had decided to run across the road in front of
both of us. Only it’s agility and my last second braking prevented me from
making orphans of its family.
The Customs Officer is due at either one o’clock or 4.30. By the time I get back
from St. John’s there has been no word from the shippers. I ring his mobile
‘phone only to find it switched off. An ominous sign. I ring him regularly
throughout the afternoon with the same result. Even his secretary is unable to
contact him. Evidently we are not going to have a Customs Officer today.

A friend suggests we contact a local radio station which loves to report on the
mis-management of the local officials. I am tempted but feel it might be
imprudent until we are ‘legal’. In the U.K. writs would already have been issued.
Our internet server is playing up and much of what we need to do requires
access to e-mails so we are a bit stuck and decide to close the office at 4.30.
With some spare time on our hands I decide I would like to go back and take
another look at the plot we saw yesterday. At last I find a use for the sun roof.
Lindsay stands on the seat poking out through the sun roof to get a better idea
of the view at a height the house would be built. The plot has many positive
points especially the views over English Harbour. On the down side the
location is not quite as good as the other site and it may be a bit noisy in the
season particularly with traffic to Pigeon Beech. Despite this I am tempted to
progress it but since nothing happens quickly in Antigua and I am beginning to
realise that rushing into things gains you nothing I decide to wait until the agent
contacts us.
As I point the car in the direction of home, Lindsay asks why we are not going to
the Tot. I am the one who has to drink the rum, not her. Under a limited
amount of duress I turn around. The next hour or so turns out to be quite good
fun in pleasant company and the remains of last night’s stilton accompanied by
slices of apple make a very pleasant pre-dinner snack.
On the way home as I am negotiating a fairly twisty, steep road with an
unfenced drop to one side when Lindsay starts screaming at me. I look around
puzzled, imagining I am about to drive over the edge but can see nothing
wrong. Eventually, she makes enough sense to persuade me to stop. A spider
is hanging from a thread directly over her. I grab the spider and throw it out the
window, or so I think. A few minutes later another spider is dashing back and
forth across the windscreen. Initially, I think the spider is on the outside.
Yesterday I thumped my hand against an insect crawling across the windscreen
only to discover it was on the outside of the glass. As I have mentioned before,
the only things which move quickly in Antigua are the spiders. The spider turns
out to be on the inside but, this time, I am successful, after a protracted chase,
in ejecting the unwanted passenger to join its friend on the side of the road.
Overall, it was a quiet day in paradise.
Day 33 – Wednesday
We have a review of the magazine and decide to increase the financial section.
I suggest we include ‘buying property’ in the section and who better to write it
than an ex-British estate agent trying to buy property in Antigua. There is a
temptation to take a jaundiced view but I resist it.

Whilst in St. John’s I call into the garage to book the car in for it’s first service. I
can’t believe I have already done 1,000 miles in only three weeks, more than I
did in the U.K..
Obviously the main dealer contracts out the servicing. I am directed down a dirt
track to an open fronted shack with ‘dead’ cars lying everywhere. It looks more
like a scrap yard than a service centre. The man on the ‘reception desk’ is fast
asleep. I can see two feet sticking out from under a car accompanied by lots of
verbiage which, being in pidgin, I am completely unable to understand. Whilst I
dither, unsure which of the two men to disturb, a third arrives and asks my
business. I explain and he thinks I want the serviced immediately which he is
prepared to do. I don’t have the time and book the car in for the next day. It
doesn’t look as though a loan car is a possibility so ask how long the service will
take. He informs me it will be done while I wait. I’d better take a big, fat book
with me although I am not sure where I will sit down.
Next port of call is Jolly Harbour where I meet a very ebullient character who is
a charter fisherman. He is very enthusiastic about the ideas we have for
including sport fishing in the magazine. Although an Antiguan it turns out that
he is very familiar with Sussex and is due to visit a friend in East Grinstead in
July. He also points me in the direction of Pat Watson who sailed with me in
Antigua in 1998 and in the U.K. in 2000. Apparently, he is running a bar in St.
John’s.
Before I leave Jolly Harbour I ring Lindsay and ask if she would like me to get
anything from the supermarket. I get the same answer as on the previous
occasion, “Bread and anything you would like to eat”. I resist the oddities in the
chilled cabinet such as chickens feet, chickens gizzards and chicken necks and
go for some chicken pieces which appears relatively normal although Lindsay
comments that the herb and breadcrumb coating looks rather like mildew.
Knowing Lindsay’s penchant for mint choc ice cream I scour the frozen cabinet
without success. When I close the cabinet door it has become completely
opaque due to me holding it open for so long and the ambient moisture freezing
on the open door. I get a strong look of disapproval from a nearby attendant.
Having collected Lindsay from the office we are driving home when the ‘phone
rings. It’s Mannix. He’s at the house with a Customs Officer. I say we will be
there in five minutes. The Customs Officer takes little notice of what happens
as boxes are unloaded only asking me if they contain anything new. I tell him
everything is over two years old. He asks how old is the oldest item and
Lindsay says it’s about 100 years. The Customs Officer comments that Mannix
is probably not the best person to be handling antiques. The tinkling from a box
which has been roughly thrown from the container does tend to indicate that the
Customs Officer may be right.

I am asked to sign forms in quadruplicate saying that the goods are an average
of five years old and that I have no intention of selling any of them. The
Customs Officer then opens one or two of the boxes for a cursory inspection.
The first item he comes across is a brand new, unopened box of electrical
equipment which I was given several years ago but had never used. I explain it
is an unused present and, fortunately, he accepts the explanation. Everything
else he inspects is, fortunately, antique.
The Customs Officer, having departed, Mannix and his crew finish unloading in
about an hour. Our plan of arranging an organised pattern to the boxes so we
can unpack what we want and leave everything else sealed until our final move
has totally gone out the window. Once finished one of Mannix’s men asks if he
can have a drink. Lindsay offers him water. Another appears and says he
would prefer beer. I see him coming out of the house with my two remaining
cans of John Smiths and the two cans of Guinness. Not a great loss. I point
out to Mannix that had he given me more notice I would have stopped by a
store and bought a case of beer. I give him a couple of hundred EC dollars to
buy some beer.
Lindsay is happy. The only thing we have unpacked are her garden table and
chairs. Those who know this table and chair set will recollect it is the one we all
thought Lindsay stole from a skip when, in fact, she paid £125 for them. They
still look as though they have been rescued from a skip except that the table top
is even more warped than it was before.
Something else is impressed by the table, our nightly visiting beetle, Val.
Between intervals of batting around the veranda and getting in Lindsay’s hair,
she inspects the entire table top, feet first for a change.
Day 34 – Thursday. Val is dead. A funeral cortège of ants is carrying her
towards the edge of the veranda and her final resting place. I doubt their motive
is altruistic, more likely they are just looking for a hearty breakfast. Without a
post-mortem I cannot determine the cause of death but I suspect that during her
close examination of the top of Lindsay’s garden table she must have ingested
some of the grey metallic paint Lindsay had used to cover all the rust just before
we left the U.K.. I accuse Lindsay of having poisoned Val but with no
independent witnesses, she denies it vehemently.
It has rained all night and is still raining when we get up. Lindsay comments
that it’s just like a miserable day in England. I correct her, it’s warm and,
despite the rain, the scenery is beautiful. There is a quality to the light here
that, even when it rains, prevents it from appearing dull.
We are concerned for all our belongings in the rooms downstairs which are
partially below ground. An investigation reveals that there has been no water
ingress. We do find another box of clothes, mine fortunately, but they mainly
comprise the long sleeved shirts I had prevented Lindsay from throwing out and

which I thought I might require on occasions. The other day Alexis had
promised to buy me a Hawaiian shirt. Lindsay pointed out I have one. It is
amongst these shirts and I am tempted to wear it. Lindsay persuades me that
tomorrow, Friday, will be a better day.
I deliver the car for service and it receives a quick oil change and a check on
the other fluid levels. The windscreen washer bottle is a bit low so they top that
up and, for reasons I am still unable to fathom, they check the windscreen
washers and all the lights. The whole thing is over in fifteen minutes. They tell
me the next service is due at 3,000 miles and that one is not free. I bet it takes
a lot longer than fifteen minutes. I query the 3,000 miles saying that for at least
ten years my car service intervals have been 10,000 miles. The last time I had
a car which required 3,000 miles services was in the early 1970’s and that was
unusual but then it was a Triumph Stag.
On the way back to the office I call in at the estate agent who is offering the plot
we have always preferred and make an offer. I know the vendor has been
playing around, putting the plot on the market and taking it off again. I am
adamant that if he messes about we will buy the alternative plot we have seen.
Surprisingly quickly, the agent rings back with a counter offer. I am tempted to
tell him to forget it but decide to tell him we will think about it. I will leave it until
the agent rings me back (if he does) and tell him we have been in discussions
on the other plot and await his reaction.
An e-mail from my elder daughter indicated that we seem to do nothing all day.
Lindsay is mildly miffed since she has been spending between nine and ten
hours in the office each day, about double her normal work rate in the U.K.. I
do tell her that once the publication has gone to press we will have quite a bit of
time on our hands although I have another little scheme in mind which, if it
comes off, will fill those vacant hours.
Having found all my clothes (one box we didn’t open this morning contained my
short sleeved shirts) Lindsay is feeling a little deprived and we try to find boxes
marked ‘clothes’ in amongst the jumble or, more like, jungle of wrapped
furniture and various sized boxes, half of them upside down. Even finding
appropriately named boxes is not an entire success since what is written on the
outside does not necessarily relate to what is inside. By-passing two large
boxes marked ‘shoes’ (Lindsay’s) I eventually find a box of her clothes in the
remotest back corner of the store room which has no light. I am sure there are
numerous more boxes of her clothes buried somewhere but in the fading light I
give up.
Day 35 – Friday. We are awoken at 4am by the most horrendous thunderstorm.
Very heavy rain accompanied by extremely bright flashes of lightening with
proportionately loud claps of thunder. One particularly close encounter nearly
causes Lindsay to jump out of her skin. The galvanised steel sheeting used on
roofs in Antigua amplifies the noise massively. I am reminded of an expression

my mother used to use to describe particularly heavy rain – falling like stair rods
(the pieces of metal which held carpet to stairs in the days before fitted carpets).
It is still raining hard as dawn breaks at 6am and I decide to investigate the
state of the furniture downstairs. A veritable stream has developed in the back
garden, running around the house and down the front garden, Wearing only a
pair of shorts (access to downstairs is via an external staircase and through the
garden) I advise Lindsay I may be gone a while and to have a towel ready on
my return.
Downstairs is made up from a store room and a small flat. Sandy’s construction
of apertures for light and ventilation comprise two large, arched windows in the
flat and one in the store room. These windows are covered by a latticework
frame and mosquito netting, no glass. Forced by the wind the rain easily
overcomes the resistance of the latticework and the netting. Quite a lot of water
has made its way into the flat and some items in one corner are rather damp.
More importantly, a pool of water has gather in the same corner. Fortunately,
whoever laid the floor didn’t level it very well and the water is draining away
from our belongings. The only thing to get wet in the store room is my life raft
which, if it keeps raining at this rate, we might soon need.
Seeing Lindsay sweeping water off the veranda with a broom, I decide to brave
the elements once more and do likewise downstairs. The fit of the bottom of the
door to the floor of the flat is so tight water will not go under it and I have to
sweep the water into the room to get around it. A pity the windows are not as
water proof.
Sheets of polythene are on the list of items to be bought today along with more
of the bacon and bread I found the other day which satisfy Lindsay’s taste buds,
the bacon being more like meaty English bacon rather than the fatty strips of
American bacon and the bread being unsweetened. Unfortunately, I found the
bread and bacon in Jolly Harbour which means finding Jolly Harbour again.
We end up in Jolly Harbour sooner than I expect. When we arrive at the office
the power is out, we have no telephones and the broadband is down. We shut
up the office and head into St. John’s to collect our credit cards which the bank
had advised us yesterday were ready. Lindsay is quite delighted. She has
never had a credit card before, always using an American Express charge card
or her bank debit card. They have given us their Gold cards which, since they
don’t know Lindsay’s spending habits, may be a bit foolish.
On our way to St. John’s we see a building supplies store and stop for some
polythene and mosquito netting. It is an extremely well stocked store and whilst
Lindsay is looking at fancy light switches and garden ornaments I check out the
prices of hot water cylinders and plumbing parts. They seem pretty expensive.
Maybe my original plan of importing a load from the U.K. is a better idea.

Lindsay reckons a trip to Italy will be cheaper and the quality better. Obviously
she has been reading too many property magazines.
Our post box contains a letter from our shippers telling us when the container
left the U.K. and when it is (was) due in Antigua. Interestingly, the letter tells us
the contents are insured until they have been professionally unpacked. Since
this is yet to happen we ask ourselves if we leave everything packed until we
move to our new house will it continue to be insured?
We need to drop in a package to a potential customer in Runaway Bay but
cannot contact the person until after 10. Having half an hour to spare we stop
at a café I have been to on a couple of occasions. It’s adjacent to a medical
centre and Lindsay is a bit puzzled as I drive into the car park. We order two
cappuccinos and Lindsay, spotting a tray of chocolate éclairs, orders one. I
agree to join her. The sugar, white, arrives in a pot with a small hole in the top.
Lindsay begins to shake the sugar into her coffee and out jumps an ant followed
by another and then several more. In disgust Lindsay reaches for a packet
sweetener. I prefer to filter the ants from the sugar which is not difficult since
they move a lot faster than slightly soggy grains of sugar.
Lindsay suddenly leaps out of her seat. The cushion is damp. A leak from the
ceiling is directly overhead. Unfortunately, a little later Lindsay asks directions
to the toilet. I am yet to tell her that as she walked away there was a round,
damp patch in the back of her skirt.
Runaway Bay is north of St. John’s. One of the problem with Antiguan sign
posts is that they will point you in a direction but when you need to turn off there
is no sign post telling you to do so. We end up in the Customs area of the port.
I only recognise it from my visit there in March and it would take several pages
to explain that experience.
Having obtained directions, via the long route, we make our delivery and set off
for Jolly Harbour. I have offered to take Lindsay to this new supermarket where
I have shopped on a couple of occasions. I decide to cut through St. John’s .
Although it is a bit of a magical mystery tour we do make our way to Jolly
Harbour and the supermarket.
Driving around Antigua is quite an experience. The pedestrians, human and
animal, are frequently blissfully unaware of traffic. Hazards such as the two
young puppies and their mother lying in the middle of the road, eating a bone
whilst not commonplace are unremarkable. No amount of hooting makes them
inclined to move. On another occasion, I came around a corner to find a game
of cricket being played in the middle of the road, two of the fielders holding up
the traffic until the over was complete. These are relatively minor hazards. Not
long before the puppies we found bright red cone standing in the middle of the
road. We have come across similar cones always standing in front of a chasm
like pot holes. This is one of the better roads with a good quality tarmac

surface. I expressed my puzzlement only to have my question answered a few
seconds later as we rounded a blind bend to be confronted by a massive lorry,
facing us on our side of the road.
Some of the roadside scenes can be amusing. On our way to Jolly Harbour we
pass a tethered goat (I know it s a goat because it’s tail is sticking up). The field
in which it is tethered is a sea of mud except for one rock with a surface area of
about six square inches and protruding less than that above the mud. The goat
had succeeded in getting all four feet onto the rock and is precariously perched
in a fashion one has often seen in mountainous natural history programmes. At
least, should it fall, it’s landing will be soft.
Back at the office the power and telephones are back on but no broadband and
the landlord is nowhere to be seen. He has the key to the room where the
broadband reset button is situated. We go to an internet café to deal with our e-
mails. I have five from the U.K.. One is from the friend who is looking after my
boat. He suggests that if I don’t want to sell it, it couldn’t be in better hands.
Another is from Brighton Marina Yacht Club advising me I can compete in the
Summer Series. Presumably I am still listed as a boat owner.
Having avoided the Tot Club for a few days and it being Friday with the tonight’s
venue just down the road we turn up and find ourselves the only ones in the
bar. Adjacent is a dinghy dock and I did not see what happened next. There
are two dinghies tied side by side. Lindsay saw the owner of one dinghy
remove a tank of petrol from the other dinghy and fill his own tank. As she was
telling me this the owner of the second dinghy arrive and I comment it will be
rather unfortunate if he runs out of petrol. He manages about 100 yards before
his depleted fuel runs dry.
Lindsay makes me promise never to buy any more fish. Tonight’s is so salty it
is uneatable.
Day 36 – Saturday. Another night of heavy rain but without the thunder and
lightening. At 6am I go downstairs to check on the furniture, the polythene not
yet being in place. Some water has managed to get in but less than yesterday
and none has reached our belongings. I sweep out the water lying on the floor.
More concerning is yesterdays stream in the back garden which has developed
into a river and is undermining the foundations of the house. Already it has
gouged a trench over a foot deep. It’s time to get wet again and our garden
tools being identifiable I get a spade and fork and start digging. Lindsay’s idea
of hydrodynamics differs markedly from mine but since I have nearly completed
the initial part of the diversion by the time she joins in I persist in doing it my
way. What looked like an impossible task to begin with gradually comes
together and the water is successfully diverted away from the house. Lindsay
has always wanted a water feature and now she has one. Soaked to the skin,
on more than one occasion Lindsay suggests we have done enough but I

continue widening and deepening the trench telling her I am enjoying myself.
Lindsay tells me she is becoming worried by my sudden acquired interest in
gardening.
After breakfast the next task is to lay some concrete blocks on the pathway from
the outside stairs to the downstairs rooms. The path has always been a little
muddy. It has now become a quagmire. There is a pile of blocks down the
garden and we begin to carry them up, two at a time. Lindsay succeeds in
making one trip, slipping and sliding in her flip-flops. I suggest she lays the path
and I carry the blocks. Exactly one hundred blocks completes the task. That’s
forty nine slippery climbs up the slope for me, sometimes ankle deep in mud,
and one for Lindsay. I want to extend the path further but Lindsay is bored
which is probably just as well since the concrete blocks have rubbed my hands
raw.
Next job is to fit the polythene. We cut a piece roughly to size then trim it to the
right shape. I suggest we use this first one as a template. Whilst Lindsay cuts
up more polythene I unscrew the window frames. Lindsay reappears with one
more piece of polythene and I point out we have two more windows. Whilst
Lindsay cuts the third piece I fit the first and rapidly realise that the wind catches
the polythene and it needs to be pinned as it’s fitted. I call out to Lindsay but
get no response. I yell louder but to no avail. Pressing myself against the
polythene to prevent it from blowing away, I haul my head up to the level of the
veranda and yell again. No sign of Lindsay. After several more calls with no
response I see her walking in through the front door. She had gone to rescue a
couple of baby goats trapped behind a fence. I was tempted to make a
comment on the more urgent matters in hand.
Sandy appears having had a look at about 6am at the water gushing around the
house. He has come to investigate a possible solution. We point to our entirely
satisfactory diversion. Sandy tells us that the radio has reported that five inches
of rain fell last night. Later we are told it’s eight inches but I suspect that is over
the two days since the people telling us are measuring it on the fact that the
water in their swimming pool is normally eight inches below the edge and the
pool has overflowed.
The rest of the day is taken up by unpacking boxes, mainly kitchen utensils,
crockery, glasses, cutlery, etc.. Unfortunately, what is described on the outside
of the box rarely equates to what is inside. I am really puzzled when I come
across, amidst a box of glasses, a really heavy brass disk. Lindsay is nowhere
in sight so I put it on one side. Later, she tells me it is the pendulum to the
clock. Lindsay is a bit unhappy with the idea of unpacking the glasses without
anywhere to store them. She wants me to unpack our glazed cabinet in which
we always kept our glasses. I go to the store room below and return upstairs.
Probably the best way the next episode can be described is exactly as it
happened. I ask Lindsay if she wants the glazed cabinet brought upstairs to
which she replies in the positive. I ask if she minds that it is no longer glazed.

The whole of the rest of the day is spent unpacking boxes and Lindsay, younger
and supposedly fitter, wants to give up much earlier than me. I am still carting
boxes up from below and throwing volumous amounts of paper around the
living room. Eventually, exhaustion even defeats me.
In amongst everything I find our electric toothbrushes. What a pleasure it is to
have really clean teeth again. The old fashioned, manual toothbrush is not
quite the same.
Day 37 – Sunday. Today starts very much in the way yesterday ended except a
bit more slowly. After a latish breakfast, a couple of chapters of a novel I have
bought in St. John’s at enormous expense I get myself motivated to carry up
more boxes. Some of these turn out to contain my selection of whiskeys, all
twenty six of them plus thirty to forty other bottles of alcohol. We probably have
one of the best stocked drinks cabinets in Antigua.
For me the day is a bit boring as I am continually searching for boxes which
might contain things we want and only being semi-successful. There are a
couple of highlights or, in reality, lowlights. Moving boxes around downstairs a
huge spider leaps out at me. I am not normally concerned by spiders but in this
case I leap in the opposite direction. The spider is three to four inches in
diameter, fat bodied with fat legs, a whitish orange in colour and something
which looks decidedly unfriendly. My main concern is that this spider is not a
local variety, none of which are truly harmful, but something which has spent
the past few years travelling the world in a container and has decided that the
Land of Sea and Sun is its final destination. With a bit of luck Antigua is its
eternity. Losing track of it under furniture and boxes I use half a large can of
crawling insect spray in the hope that next time I come across this spider it is a
desiccated corpse.
In my search for the pictures of my various yachts which have infested rather
than inhabited the houses in which we have lived as well as my office, I am
struggling to find a couple which were taken just before we left the U.K. and are,
without doubt, my favourite to date. In my desperation I carry upstairs a heavy,
picture frame sized package only to discover that it is the doors from our large
mahogany sideboard.
Whilst most of this is going on Lindsay is sauntering around the countryside. To
be fair, Roger and Kevin have decided to row the boat which has just crossed
the Atlantic around the island to raise money for a charity. The charity looks
after the mentally and physically disabled. Neither Roger nor Kevin has access
to transport so Lindsay has volunteered to drive them to the charity to sort out
all the paperwork. This, first of all, necessitated me in driving almost all the way
to St. John’s (whilst Lindsay cooked breakfast) to get some petrol. Being a
Sunday, Slipway is closed and the nearest open petrol station is some miles
away. It’s a debate whether I will run out of petrol before I manage to refill or

whether it is safer to send Lindsay out on a nearly empty tank. I decide on the
former.
Since Lindsay is taking the car I give her my ‘phone and keep hers. Although
the logic defeats her, my reasoning is that my ‘phone does not work well at the
house whereas hers does. If she is out in the car with my ‘phone and I am at
home with hers, we can keep in contact. I must have been tired. We are going
to dinner with Mike and Anne and have agreed to meet at the Tot at six. By
5.30 there is no sign of Lindsay so I ring her using her ‘phone except that I am
put through to her answering service. I realise I have dialled her number on her
‘phone. The realisation does not help me a lot because when I ring my ‘phone I
get my answering service. Lindsay rings me about ten minutes later. She was
in Crabhole Liquors to buy some wine to take to Mike and Anne’s but had left
the ‘phone in the car.
Many of the things I unpack are electrical and everything works on both 110
voltage despite being bought in the U.K. with 240 voltage. There is one
exception. I have struggled upstairs with a very large television. Despite being
international, it only runs on 240 volts. I go downstairs and check the other
television. The label on the back says the same. Despite this, I plug in the
television but nothing happens.
There are eight of us for dinner and, as is so often the case here, the food is
first class. Mike scores a first. He puts on a video of the Battle of Britain, a film
which is one of my favourites but which I have never succeeded in getting
Lindsay to watch all the way through. I am reminded of one of the few
disappointing aspects to the film. The Messerschmitt 109s which then belonged
to the Spanish Air Force had Merlin (Spitfire) engines which gives them an
entirely different profile from the original Daimler Benz engined Me 109s.
Except in the close-ups it is very difficult to identify ‘friend from foe’.
We don’t leave Mike and Anne’s until after midnight. We later hear that other
guests didn’t leave until after three.
Day 38 – Monday. In the U.K. I would never go out on a Sunday evening if I
had to work on a Monday. In future I will apply the lesson here.
Having been at Mike and Anne’s and meeting their dogs which are about to
move in with us I realise our frontless glass cabinet and their long, active tails
are a recipe for disaster. I remove the door and load it into the car to have it
reglazed.
Late morning I am in St. John’s again but on my way I call at Jayne’s Yacht
Services where I am expecting notification of a parcel arriving from the U.K..
Not only is there a slip advising me to collect my package from the post office
but also a statement from the bank addressed to our home but delivered by the

postal service to Jayne’s Yacht Services. Someone obviously showed some
initiative.
Between various visits around St. John’s I pass a fairly rare sight in Antigua, a
second hand car lot. They have only just opened and have a fairly limited
stock, however, almost opposite is a yard displaying, in very small letters, that it
is a vehicle repossession company. I stop and enquire whether the vehicles are
for sale. The selection is quite interesting including two of the new style
Beetles. I am advised that I can put in a bid for any vehicle and it will go to the
finance company for consideration. I tell them I will come back the next day
with Lindsay.
At our post box there is a mountain of mail all of which is going to take me more
time to deal with than I currently have available, much of it U.K. Inland Revenue
and V.A.T.. I thought I had escaped all that.
An appointment with the solicitor takes a lot longer than anticipated mainly due
to the fact that even the fourth reprint of the agreement still has errors. I leave
at 4.30 determined to buy an inverter before the shops close at five. Traffic at
this time of day is horrendous and having had no luck at my first choice of shop
in the Woods Mall out of town shopping centre, I head into St. John’s.
Attempting a short cut I discover I am not the only person trying this route and
suspect I may be stuck until well after the shops have shut. A brief let up in the
traffic allows me to double back and I get to my second choice of shop before it
closes but with no more luck. They direct me to a third shop which does have
an inverter but it is only a 12 volt to 110 volt. This shop sends me off in the
direction of another which, I am convinced, will now be closed but since I am on
foot I might as well find it for future reference. I never find the store but stopping
at a small shop situated on the edge of the local market and which is another of
these ‘tardis’ shops, enormous behind a very small shop front, I ask for
directions. Despite looking European, their English is very poor and, eventually,
they understand what I am trying to buy. Within this shop they have a selection
of precisely what I want and at very reasonable prices. I vow to spend more
time in the market area.
I set off back to the office and when I am about halfway the heavens open. The
downpour is torrential and I discover that 4 x 4s are very good at wading
through foot deep rivers running down the road. As I drive through the twisty
streets of Liberta about five miles from the office I become aware the car is
pulling to the right. It can’t be the pull of the water since there is more water on
the kerb side of the road. I also begin to notice the front, offside of the car is
noticeably lower. There can be only one answer but there is nowhere for me to
pull over for about half a mile. The look on an oncoming driver’s face confirms
my opinion. Mercifully the rain stops as suddenly as it had started just as I pull
into a lay-by and inspect my deflating tyre. Not having changed a wheel in
about twenty years I set about the tedious but not difficult task. I am pleasantly
surprised by the offers of help I receive from passing locals. In the U.K. you

would have to be young, blonde, beautiful and female to receive such offers of
help. I am expecting Mike and Anne to pass by on they way to the Tot and I
flag them down to extend my apologies (not that I had any intention of going but
it looks good plus I wanted to give them the new copy of British Naval History
which I had arranged to be covered).
Changing the tyre was no problem until I came to release the spare which is
suspended under the rear of the car. There is absolutely no obvious way of
releasing the wheel and I recommend nobody buy one of these vehicles without
a handbook. Situated on the lip of tailgate rim is a small hole into which you
inset a long, lugged rod. The lug engages, quite easily, with a mechanism
about two feet under the boot floor. Turning the rod lowers the spare wheel on
a chain. Even the best trained Boy Scout would never have found that. Filthy
dirty from the exposed spare wheel and dripping with perspiration I dismiss my
earlier resolution and head to the bar for a beer.
The inverter works and we have television although there is nothing to watch
since we are not connected to anything.
-
Day 39 – Tuesday. I have seven e-mails on my personal e-mail address but
four of them are from Brighton Marina Yacht Club asking me if I wish to enter
the regatta. I am tempted to complete on of the forms and return it. As
someone who was responsible for sending out many of the e-mails from the
yacht club I can now understand how some members were irritated by receiving
e-mails which had absolutely no relevance to them but to filter all e-mails would
be an impossible task.
The day has arrived for me to have a device installed in my car which I have
wanted for some weeks, a remote starter. It may appear a strange thing to
desire but if the car has been parked in the sun for a few hours it gets as hot as
an oven. Sometimes we stand outside and wait for the air conditioning to get
working before climbing in. If I can start the car remotely then it will cool down
as we approach it. Frank, the engineer who is installing the device has
reluctantly driven from the north of the island. The first question he asks me is
for my second key. I have a very vague recollection of having a second key but
have no idea where I have put it. Frank leaves and suggests I contact him
again when I have another key. It’s a pity he didn’t tell me two keys are
necessary before driving all the way from St. Johns.
After lunch Lindsay and I head for town to look at one of the repossessed cars
and on the way I drop my tyre into a garage telling the repairer I will be back in
an hour. He is busily spraying red paint on the wheel (and half the tyre) from a
wheelbarrow.
We arrive at the repossession yard to discover that the car in which we are
most interested is left-hand drive. No wonder it is only EC$20,000 (£5,000). It
is only a couple of years old and in very good condition. Inspecting the car

does prove a little hazardous. The parking area is covered in fire-ant nests.
Lindsay is wearing flip-flops and I have on a pair of open sailing shoes. Fire-and
are particularly malicious, attacking your feet for no apparent reason. They are
aptly names as their bite is more like a sting and your feet feel as though they
on fire.
Lindsay is not very concerned that the car is left-hand drive and there is a
positive point. The bank which has repossessed the car is our bank. At the
price it certainly is a steal. It’s after two so the bank is closed. I agree with
Lindsay that I will talk to them tomorrow.
Before going back we collect the cupboard door which has been reglazed. It
costs EC$50 (£10). Not worth claiming on the insurance unless we find other
things damaged.
We stop at the tyre repair garage and the mechanic is still spraying the wheel
from the wheelbarrow. My tyre is perched against the garage door where I left
it. He shakes his head and I put the car into reverse.
Amongst the papers which arrived in the post yesterday is the V5 Registration
Document for my XK8 which I sold a couple of days before we left the U.K..
The problem now is that I can’t find the name and address of the new owner.
Back home a search for the spare key to my new car and the name and
address of the owner of the old one is partially successful. We find the key. It
may have been better to have found the name and address since the key is
replaceable.
For some reason Lindsay decides to start digging out miscellaneous items in
the store rooms and produces curtains (she has hated the ones in the bedroom
since we moved in). She pulls out tools for me to erect mosquito netting on the
bathroom window which proves impossible (Lindsay now thinks she is a genius
since she has managed to wire it in place) and she discovers where some of
our DVDs are hidden. I have to get them out as I was the one who stacked
everything on top of them. I extract three video DVDs and try one in the DVD
player. Our television comes to life. It’s a pity we have seen the three films but
if we get really bored…. There is still a minor problem. I have found the remote
control except that it is to the television which is still in the store room. The
dilemma is whether to change the television or search for the remote control.
Overall, it is not particularly significant since the only channel we have is the
one from the DVD.
Day 40 – Wednesday. A bad start. I am just cleaning my teeth when the
electricity goes off. My electric tooth brush can’t use that much power. Worse
still is the pump for the water won’t work without electricity. Wearing only a
dressing gown I head outside to the power room to reset the inverter.

Having found my spare key I telephone Frank who is going to install the remote
start to the car. He arrives at 9.30 and tells me it will take three hours and that if
it takes longer he is in trouble. Thinking he might like to be paid cash I wander
along to the cash machine only to find it temporarily out of order. I ask Frank if
he is willing to take a cheque to which he readily agrees.
Going to pay some money into the bank a couple of hours later I see Frank has
almost all the wiring from my car spread over the car park plus quite a bit of his
own wiring. The cash machine is now working so I can get Frank’s money.
You may ask why I don’t just draw the money from the bank. If you have an
odd half an hour or so to spare whilst they check what you had for breakfast
then it’s worth drawing money over the counter, otherwise, wait for the cash
machine to work.
Frank is in trouble. Three and a half hours have passed and he has
encountered a problem. The car won’t start. Not only will it now not start with
his system installed it won’t start with the key either. There’s nothing worse
than having someone stand over you when you are trying to figure something
out, particularly when that person can contribute nothing. Anyway, Frank has
enough spectators without me bothering him. Back in the office I look at
Frank’s business card. He describes himself as Manager/Installation Engineer.
I do wonder whether Frank has entirely mastered multi-tasking.
A little bit of excitement. Our landlord has employed one of the local layabouts
to dig over the flowerbeds in front of the office. Pick in hand he sets to and with
a deft blow strikes a water main. The water company arrive surprisingly quickly
but don’t bother to turn off the water to effect a repair. I suppose, in these
temperatures, it doesn’t matter if you get a little wet.
Frank is still hard at work when I leave with Alexis for an appointment. Frank
tells me he will have to come back at the weekend to finish something off but
that everything will work. When I return Frank has gone and the remote starter
doesn’t appear to work. I ring Frank who tells me you have to push the button
twice. It works and from a considerable distance. It even has its own aerial
fitted to the windscreen. When we leave the office later I start the car from
about a hundred yards away. A passing pedestrian who I hadn’t noticed is
apparently somewhat startled by an empty car starting itself and, as he
approaches us, comments on modern technology. The car is deliciously cool
inside.
Lindsay is gardening. She is trying to cut the jungle of weeds which have grown
up particularly with the recent rains. The only tool she has is a pair of edging
shears, the long handled ones with the bent ends. She will be at it for a long
time. When she gives up I struggle to notice where she has been but daren’t
tell her.

My pen has run out of ink and I know that somewhere below is a box containing
about a hundred refills. Lindsay gives me some useful advice. She has seen it
in the store room. It is only after I have shifted nearly every box that I discover
her advice is inaccurate. The box I am seeking is in the flat and I have to go
through the whole exercise again.
We are getting used to things running out. Now it’s the turn of the gas.
Fortunately, dinner is cooked. I have been meaning to get a spare cylinder,
now I will have to get one.
Day 41 – Thursday. My first task of the day is to get a couple of fresh gas
cylinders and I discover a major disadvantage with a 4 x 4. With no proper boot
the cylinders roll around in the back exacerbated by the uneven surface of the
roads, crashing from side to side, totally unrestrained. A couple of hours later,
on my way into St. John’s I drop them at the house. As I arrive I see the tractor
unit of the container lorry struggling to remove the trailer. The uphill slope and
lack of tread on the tyres made it an impossible task. The driver had called out
a JCB or back-hoe as they call them in Antigua. I left them to their task.
Once the container was empty, Lindsay had asked me how long I thought it
would be before the container was removed. I reckoned by Friday, she thought
four months. I ring her to say that it looks as though I was right but I am not
100% confident. Returning in the afternoon I am pleased to note it has gone.
I collect my repaired tyre at a cost of only EC$15 (about £3) but struggle for
about ten minutes to relocate it under the rear of the car. Gravity combined with
the pendulum affect of the tyre being suspended from a single chain makes it a
three handed job and I have only two added to which, lying on by back on a
dirty garage forecourt is not helping my mood. For only EC$15 I suppose it was
a bit much to expect assistance.
One of my tasks in St. John’s is to photograph the premises of a hire car
company for an advertisement. I comment that it can’t be that difficult after all, I
have been photographing houses for thirty five years. Alexis retorts that if it
was that easy there would be no need for professional photographers such as
him. Lindsay’s comments are not overly favourable when I show her my efforts.
It will be interesting to see what Alexis has to say.
Driving past the second hand car dealer where, yesterday, we had seen a bright
red Suzuki Jimny for EC$25,000 I notice the price has come down to
EC$22,000, still not as good value as the KIA but at least it’s right hand drive.
A call into the insurance company to increase our contents insurance gives me
the opportunity to use my new First Caribbean International Bank credit card.
Even the cashier comments on how long the transaction takes to be approved
from a bank which is just down the road. I comment on how expensive
insurance is in Antigua, about twice the cost of the U.K..

Lindsay being determined to have the KIA, I drop an offer letter into the bank
and head for Jolly Harbour. Although I am getting better at finding Jolly Harbour
I still seem to manage to exit St. John’s by a different route each time I try to
find the Jolly Harbour road.
I had just sat down in the only restaurant still open in Jolly Harbour to have a
sandwich when my ‘phone rings. It is the bank calling from their head office in
Barbados. My immediate thought is that something is wrong with the credit
card transaction. The call is in response to my offer letter for the KIA.
Apparently we have been misinformed. The value is not EU$20,000 but
EU$25,900. The voice at the other end asks if I will increase my offer. I
hesitate and the voice suggests the bank will negotiate, probably meet us
halfway. I say I will ring back tomorrow.
Before leaving the office I was asked to pick up a couple of cheques from
businesses in Jolly Harbour. Despite searching everywhere and asking
numerous people for the location of one of the offices, I am totally unable to find
it. I ring them for directions only to be told they are not opening their office until
August.
As has become the practise when I am in Jolly Harbour, I ring Lindsay and ask
her whether she wants me to get anything from the supermarket. Rather than
her usual answer of bread and anything you would like for dinner, this time it’s
bacon and anything you would like for dinner. Although she has totally banned
me from ever buying fish again I cannot resist the king sized prawns and buy a
dozen. Lindsay is very pleased with my other purchases which includes some
key lime cream biscuits and mint choc chip ice cream.
After leaving the office we go to the Tot in order to speak to Mike and Anne
about the arrangements for the dogs. Mike gives us a list of their food
requirements which includes rice. I jokingly comment that I presume they eat it
uncooked. Lindsay is somewhat appalled stating that she has enough to do
cooking for me let alone dogs as well. I suspect that may become my duty.
Driving home I find my fog lights are on. I am in danger of becoming on of
those Antiguans still searching for fog. Since I have never investigated how to
turn them on I now have no idea how to turn them off. In addition, my
dashboard lights are off. I suspect the handiwork of Frank. It is about a mile
down the road before I discover how to turn off the fog lights but not until we are
home that I discover how to turn on the dashboard lights. Everything now
working in the right order and the car parked safely in the drive Lindsay asks if I
have a blue flashing security light in the car. I reply in the negative saying it’s
red one. She can definitely see blue. I check and she is right but so am I.
Frank has installed a blue flashing light which completely overpowers my
original red flashing light. I now worry for the state of my battery.

Before we can cook any dinner I have to fit a new gas cylinder. An easy task. I
have done it dozens of times on a boat. I even have a wrench I have dug out
from one of our tool boxes. No matter how tightly I do up the threaded nozzle I
can still feel and smell gas leaking out. Lindsay grabs the cigar from my mouth
despite my protestations that it is not alight. The threaded nozzle is bound by
PTFE tape which has now become worn. Having no tape, I resort to the only
other thing I can think might make a gas tight seal. I rub a bar of soap along the
thread and it works perfectly but I will keep checking it until I can get some more
tape.
Day 42 – Friday. The dogs arrive but not before the electricity has cut out, five
times. We take it in turns to shower, shave (me) and clean our teeth whilst the
other stands by to rush downstairs to push the reset switch on the inverter.
Lindsay is becoming more convinced we need to live near a mains power
supply. A decent generator would suffice. Alexis has gone to Guadeloupe to a
major boat jumble and Lindsay has asked him to buy a generator if he sees one
going cheap.
Mike turns up at about eight to drop off the dogs, a mountain of dog food, coffee
he has forgotten to give to Terry, Pussers Rum which needs to be dropped off
at various venues and miscellaneous items to do with the Tot Club. Mike and
Anne are catching a flight at ten and it’s twenty past eight when he leaves with
at least half an hour’s drive to the airport and Anne is still at home. They must
have caught the plane as we haven’t seen them since.
The dogs – Ruthie is a bitch and a typical Antiguan dog, medium brown with a
black muzzle, short hair and white paws. Nuisance is a black and white, large,
non-pedigree dog. According to Mike, Nuisance is the well behaved dog and
Ruthie the less obedient. Wrong. Nuisance lives up to his name whereas
Ruthie very rapidly toes the line but not without an incident or two first.
Another reason not to have a 4 x 4 is that relatively small dogs cannot jump up
through the tailgate. When changing the wheel I discovered a netting which can
be strung between the luggage area and the passenger compartment. The
luggage area is for the dogs except Ruthie can’t get in. I have to lift her aboard.
Once at the office it is evident the dogs have never been up stairs. Ruthie is
completely phased by the open tread staircase and pulls out of her collar. I
chase her halfway down the street before recapturing her.
In the office Nuisance will not settle down and I tie his lead to a window frame to
restrain him. Ruthie settles down quite easily. At lunchtime I take them for a
walk. It is quite evident they have never been lead trained and the pull
furiously. This will have to change. To make matters worse, one of them has a
bad case of flatulence. I hope it is just nervousness.
I take a few moments out to check the Yellow Pages for companies which sell
generators. Antiguan Yellow Pages are just like the U.K. ones except that half

the telephone numbers are wrong and many of the companies do not provide
the services suggested in the adverts. I have used directory enquiries on a
couple of occasions but I am convinced they just look in the telephone directory
because on both occasions they gave me the numbers listed in the directory
which are out of service. I have obtained the correct numbers subsequently,
the companies, for reasons best known to themselves, having changed them.
My search for generators reveals a very mixed pattern of supply from
US$10,000 down to EC$2,500. One company asks if we live near the sea and I
confirm that we do. Apparently, they only sell marine generators and offer to
plumb in a marine generator if we are close enough to the water for cooling
purposes. At about four hundred yards I don’t think so.
Lindsay decides to have the afternoon off and take the dogs home. I agree to
pick her up at around five after she has walked the dogs and fed them. I am
delayed and ring her to say I will be back at five thirty. Of course, she is still not
ready. The dogs are learning quite quickly, they already know they are not
allowed in our bedroom and I have persuaded them to sit although Nuisance
can be a bit reluctant. Lindsay has discovered one advantage to Nuisance. He
eats all the ants which invade the house.
We chain up the dogs on the veranda and take the various things Mike has
given us to distribute at the Tot Club. Mike and Anne always give the dogs a
biscuit when they are chained up. This is their sternest test, to sit and not touch
the biscuit on the floor until told to do so. They fail but I think they may be
beginning to get the message. On our return the dogs greet us like long lost
friends and Nuisance disgraces himself by cocking his leg against a piece of
Sandy’s furniture. Fortunately, it’s all wood. A few stern words has Nuisance
grovelling on his belly. Perhaps they need a walk. This is the beginning of their
walking on a lead training. The start by pulling hard and I shorten the lead to
arms length. Every time the pull I pull back and stop. Surprisingly quickly, they
get the message. Unfortunately, I have taken them for a walk down the hill. I
could do with a pull back up again.
Day 43 – Saturday. The electricity, or lack thereof, is becoming a bit of a pain.
The inverter cuts out and stubbornly refuses to reset for more than a few
minutes. Sandy’s generator still appears not to be charging so the only
alternative is to wait for the sun to charge up the batteries. In order to get the
maximum benefit we leave the ‘fridge disconnected. Eventually, we are able to
have showers. Just as well it’s not a working day.
At ten Roger and Kevin are due to set off on their charity row around the island.
They have come to the conclusion that it is not going to be as easy as they had
originally thought. Although the boat was ‘rowed’ across the Atlantic, in reality,
it drifted with the currents and the prevailing winds. Roger and Kevin have
decided that if they get into difficulty they will get a tow from the ‘mother ship’,
Graeme’s 43 foot catamaran. I have sponsored them for an amount for each

owed mile and a smaller amount for each towed mile in the hope that it will be
an incentive.
Charlie (female), a friend of Mike and Anne’s ring to ask if we have the cat food
amongst our dog food. She has the dogs’ flea treatment but no cat food. Sure
enough, a bag containing tins with cat’s faces on them and TUNA printed in
large letters stares from the bags of dog food. We agree an exchange this
evening.
Amid television cameras and press photographers they cast off and are almost
immediately in trouble. The windage on the boat is enormous not helped by the
large banner they have strung fore and aft. It is upwind to the entrance to
English Harbour and they actually having to tack in order to make progress
against the wind. Once out of the entrance to English Harbour, it is their
intention to be towed to Green Island, halfway up the east coast of Antigua,
where a function is being held and they hope to raise more funds. Tomorrow
they will get a tow back to English Harbour and start the row in earnest. It
would be impossible for them to continue to row around the east side of the
island against the prevailing currents. They anticipate finishing on Wednesday
but I think we will all be surprised if they do it that quickly without a fair bit of
towing.
At one stage we had considered borrowing a boat and sailing around to Green
Island. Terry and Connie offer us a ride on Graeme’s catamaran which would
have been nice except we need to get back for the dogs. Already they are
impinging on our social life. We may drive up this evening and join the party.
Lindsay spends the afternoon building a gate to prevent the dogs getting off the
veranda but it is still incomplete. At present there are just a couple of boxes
placed on the steps to discourage them from going down.
I take the dogs for a long walk in the afternoon, starting by going up hill on the
principle that it will wear them out and it will be easier to control them as they
pull at the leads. What I had neglected to think about was coming back down
one of the rough tracks which is worn from soft granite and has a surface
comprising round, ball-bearing sized stones. It is hard enough to stay upright
without two pulling dogs. In future I will stick to the concrete roads.
Looking at the weather, rain coming in from the south, we decide Green Island
is not a good option. A barbeque on a wet beach is not my idea of
entertainment.
In the evening we meet Charlie at the Tot and exchange goods. We stay a little
longer than intended and don’t get home until nine. At half ten the electricity
cuts out and with no sunlight we are stuck until morning.

Day 44 – Sunday. We are woken at 4.30 by the dogs barking. They have
spotted something in the garden. Lindsay eventually identifies it as a stray dog
wandering around. It disappears up the road and ‘our’ dogs settle down again
but we don’t. By leaving the bedroom door open whilst I sorted out the dogs I
have let in all the mosquitoes. Lindsay suggests we spray the room and
evacuate for a few minutes. I am reluctant to disturb the dogs again and suffer
the consequences.
Six o’clock and there is a knock on front the door. It is one of the neighbours
with the stray dog on a lead asking it belongs to us. Apparently, her bitch is in
season and the stray is making a nuisance of himself. Now thoroughly awake
Lindsay takes the dogs for a run. They are going to be so fit when Mike and
Anne return and, hopefully, thoroughly disciplined as well.
The wind is quite strong and, looking out to sea, the waves fairly big which does
not bode well for Roger and Kevin. They are due off English Harbour at eleven
so, from our vantage point, we should see them at about twelve. We have our
fingers crossed.
The garden still looks like a building site except the weeds have now grown to
between a foot and two foot high. Since there is no Tot Club Keep Fit I decide
to clear the timber, the pile of sand, the unused electrical cable and various bits
of rubble lying around. Lindsay is intent on cutting down the weeds but not until
she has finished building the dog gate. Quite why she is cutting mortise and
tenon joints I have no idea. A couple of nails will do.
The gate finished Lindsay starts attacking the weeds with a pair of garden
shears. The inefficiency of the process offends me. I remember when I was a
child in Africa the gardeners cut lawns with sharpened, bent pieces of metal we
called slashers. I search amongst the builders debris for a piece of thin metal.
Unfortunately all I can find is a large section of corrugated roofing material. I
haven’t told Lindsay but I use her secateurs to cut the aluminium to shape. A
length of wood and a few nails fashions the piece of metal into a blade on the
end of a long handle. The blade is a bit blunt and I have no sharpening tools.
Bashing the edge of the blade with a hammer against the concrete floor does
sharpen the edge a bit. The effort is worth it because the weeds fall
remorselessly but the handle is not well shaped and too long. The use of a saw
soon makes the necessary modifications but the addition of gaffer tape to the
handle doesn’t prevent the appearance of blisters on my hand. This is only
intended to be a demonstration to Lindsay of the mechanical advantage of tools
designed for the job, however, seeing the success I am having with the weeds
she leaves me to the job.
At twenty to one I notice Roger and Kevin rowing across Rendezvous Bay.
Somehow I have missed them as they crossed Falmouth Harbour. I estimate I
have a field of vision of about one mile and they cross in about twenty minutes
which means they are making about three knots. Later I hear they rowed all the

way to Jolly Harbour. Lindsay takes a photo of them which, when enlarged,
looks quite good.
By early afternoon, having extended our path with spare concrete blocks and
cleared all the debris from the garden the effort of which, when added to the
lack of sleep, makes me consider a siesta is in order but I fail to take into
account the dogs who seem to require my undivided attention. Even Lindsay is
considering children as an alternative. Later, meeting two hyper-active microhumans
cures her of that aberration.
Earlier in the day when I am carrying concrete blocks around and perspiring
profusely, Lindsay suggests I should wear a shirt. Soon after I add one to my
attire but comment that Lindsay is equally exposed, almost. She is wearing a
bikini top. At about five Lindsay goes for a shower and blames me for her
sunburnt back. Shortly after, Lindsay suggests I also have a shower. I
presume this means we are going to the Tot Club.
-
Day 45 – Monday. Despite having left the ‘fridge off for half of yesterday and all
of last night, we run out of power again this morning. It really is getting beyond
a joke. We have discussed buying a generator and asking our landlord for a
discount on the rent but, being a Scotsman, I doubt he’ll agree.
Having made an appointment to test drive this Kia Sportage for Lindsay, I ring
to confirm that it is still on and they tell me to come immediately. It’s in St
John’s, so half an hour’s drive away. We arrive and they have put a new
battery on the car but it hasn’t moved from it’s parking place which is partially
obstructed by other cars. I am tempted to say that even a woman driver could
have extracted the car but since Lindsay kept on telling not to offer to get it out,
I suspect that may not be the case. I am equally doubtful that the person
attempting to move the car has a driving licence. He tries to move three other
vehicles, all with flat batteries, quite unnecessarily. Eventually, with much
directing from me and the office secretary the car is ready for us to drive except
we are not allowed to take it on the road. Apparently, the bank have said we
need to be accompanied by the manager and he has disappeared. I suggest
the to secretary that she rings the bank. She can’t. The power is off and the
‘phones aren’t working. (We experienced the same thing earlier). I give her my
mobile ‘phone. For the first time in my life, myself described as a Caucasian. I
am unsure whether or not this is supposed to engender confidence in the bank
but permission is granted for us to take the car unaccompanied.
It is just as well we take the car for a test drive as it lists to port (left, to the nonsailors)
dramatically and the steering seems fairly erratic and I am only the
passenger. Horrible clonking noises come from the area of the front
suspension. Lindsay comments that the brakes are quite soft. We return to the
yard and I have a good underneath. One front suspension leg is a good two
inches shorter that the other and both shock absorbers have fractures in their
casings plus there is a steady trickle of what I determine as brake fluid running

out from under the engine. No wonder the brakes felt soft. It is suggested that
we might care to make a modified offer but I wouldn’t care to guess at what else
might be wrong. I can only imagine that the owner, knowing the car was to be
repossessed drove it like a lunatic over Antigua’s worst roads.
By now Lindsay is getting desperate for a car and I suggest we go back and
look at the Suzuki Jimny which had been EC$25,000 and was now reduced to
EC$22,000. It is the fixed head version and looks like a Tonka toy and is not
much bigger although it is the upmarket version and does have a strange
element of charm to it. It’s bright read with quite a bit of not too ostentatious
chrome Also, it does drive well.
The garage make a big mistake. They show us another one in dark green. Not
as good but at only EC$18,000. We decide to go for the red one but, after quite
a lot of hard bargaining during which Lindsay begins to lose her patience with
me, we eventually settle on EC$19,500. Still without Antiguan driving licences,
we persuade the garage owner to register it for us. Collection day is tomorrow.
On our way back we call at a company to check out generators. His description
of where he is located has left me a little baffled but I have a rough idea. After
driving up and down the road a couple of time we stop and ask a security guard
for directions. He points to a building less than 100 yards away. When we
arrive we are told that the have just had the outside of the building painted and
the decorators have painted over the sign board.
This place is unbelievable. It’s bordering on a scrap yard for anything and
everything electrical and they are repairing all kinds of bits in the open including
rewinding electric motors and generators. The second hand parts store is
massive and a complete Aladdin’s cave Locked in the front of the very large
building are boxes of new generators. Two are unpacked and one is
demonstrated to us. It is a single cylinder diesel with a battery starter and is
capable of putting out 5 KVA (5,000 watts), more than we need. Before going I
had enquired of the price and was told EC$8,000. We are asked if we want one
of the boxed one or the unboxed one. I ask if I get a discount without the box
and the price is reduced to EC$7,500. They quite happily take a cheque.
When asked how we intend to get it home I say we will take it in the car. They
laugh. It takes four of them to lift it. Suddenly big 4 x 4s are having even more
uses. I can’t see myself have fitted that in the boot of the XK.
It is a little narrower than the width of the car and is on wheels. Many of the
roads in Antigua are blighted by sharp bends. The inertia of this machine rolling
from side to side is having a rather disturbing affect on the handling of the car. I
decide to stop and Lindsay jams a box of Marine Guides between the generator
and the side of the car. The box just about survives our journey home.
Once home we have the task of getting the generator out. I go and find Charlie
who is working at Sandy’s house. He has his doubts and wanders off down the

oad to where they are building a house and grabs a couple of men. Meantime,
I discover another use for a 4 x 4. I can drive it though the garden to get to the
far side of the house where the power room is situated We lift the generator
into the power room and I leave Charlie wiring it up to the batteries. He seems
in his element. A new and working generator.
Having left the dogs on their own for much longer than we intended, I suggest
Lindsay stays at home and I go back to the office.
Day 46 – Tuesday. Perhaps another day of mixed blessings. Yesterday I had
an offer from a friend for my yacht. I would love to have her here but Lindsay is
right. It would be a mistake to have her sitting here, hardly used and I would
have to carry out a number of modifications to make her suitable for two handed
sailing. I know I will regret for the rest of my life selling her but one has to be
practical, after all, it’s not as though Lindsay is a sailor and if we are to cruise
the islands (did I use that unacceptable word – cruise?) then I probably need
something different but you can be sure it will have to be capable of racing. I
determine to accept the offer.
I am not sure if Fates are on my side but I send the e-mail accepting the offer
and the system crashes followed by a power failure and the internet going
down. I am unsure of whether my e-mail has been sent. Not knowing when
power, internet, telephone communications, etc. will be restored, I set off for St.
John’s to arrange insurance for Lindsay’s car, get the cash from the bank and
one or two other tasks. It shouldn’t take me more than a couple of hours.
Wrong. Sorting out the insurance takes about an hour. I could detail the
minutia of what took so long but suffice to say that when I notice they have me
as two months older than my actual age I do not bother to correct them. They
do tell me that they do not normally insure used cars without an inspection and
ask if the car can be brought along next time it is in town. I get the impression
that as we have spent quite a lot of money with them recently, in the overall
scheme of things, Lindsay’s Tonka toy is not of great consideration.
Next door to the insurance office is the company with whom we have our mobile
‘phones. I decide to change mine from a Pay As You Go to a debit system.
They tell me I will lose all the credit left in my ‘phone. I know only have a small
amount of credit left. They check and tell me it’s a few international calls. It
turns out to be two and a half. Firstly, I ring Brighton Marina to sort out my
berthing arrangements which expire at the end of the month. I then think my
mother would have quite a surprise if I ring her. She does. She puts the ‘phone
down on me. I try again and when she answers I run out of credit.
For some reason it takes the average bank clerk ten minutes to deal with each
transaction even in the posh branch where we now bank but at least they have
seats. There are five people in front of me with two tellers serving which rapidly
reduces to one. I wait forty five minutes to be served. I wish to transfer an
amount of money from our savings account to our cheque account and then

draw sufficient funds to pay for Lindsay’s car. It takes twenty minutes to do the
two transactions. Meanwhile I watch Tim Henman go two sets down at
Wimbledon. The World Service later tells me he recovered sufficiently to win
the game. That man doesn’t deserve to win.
On my way to the garage Lindsay rings to ask if I will come back via Jolly
Harbour. Which way this time? I wonder.
Paperwork is everything in this country. If the paperwork doesn’t match, you’re
stuffed. I have learnt to provide as much paper work as possible and never give
any explanations. If there’s a query it’s their fault because they haven’t
understood the paperwork. I am asked for my driving licence. We still don’t
have permanent driving licences so I produce the paperwork from my car with
Alexis’s driving licence number on it. They question that it is the same number
and I point out that we are talking about different cars. Can I not have two
cars? The form gets completed. I am told I can come back in an hour, no,
make it an hour and a half, to collect the car. Two hours later I ring to be told
that the car only needs cleaning. I say we are half an hour away and will come
now. As we arrive they commence cleaning the car.
We have brought the dogs with us and I leave them in the car. A man
approaches me and suggests I should have a window open. I point out that I
have left the engine running and that the dogs have the benefit of air
conditioning. He laughs and comments that dogs are better looked after than
humans.
Unlike mine when delivered, Lindsay’s car has no petrol. I direct her to the
nearest petrol station and she pulls alongside a pump. A car behind starts
hooting furiously. The petrol station forecourt is a shortcut around a set of traffic
lights and Lindsay has parked in the middle of this ‘private’ highway. She has to
move to the other side of the pumps in order to be served. On the way back
one of the dogs starts to pick at the tinting film which covers the inside of
Lindsay’s windows. Lindsay is going home and I am going back to the office so
the dogs switched cars.
Whilst in town I attempt to purchase a length of hose with which to extend the
generator’s exhaust in order to remove the fumes from the power room. Having
no success at two car accessory shops I wait until I reach English Harbour and
call in at a yacht chandlers. A piece of yacht exhaust will be perfect but, as with
yacht chandlers the world over, boat parts are an arm and a leg. A six foot
length costs me nearly EC$100. It will be a bit of a gamble as I had nothing to
measure the diameter of the generator’s exhaust. I guess at an inch and a half.
The guess is completely accurate. It fits perfectly.
I run the generator for a couple of hours to boost the batteries and then turn it
off. As I turn it off the power goes off as well. No amount of pushing reset
buttons or restarting the generator will cause the electricity to come back on

again. Sandy reckons the inverter must have blown itself which means a new
one. He has a scheme for running electricity direct from the generator to the
wiring system which seems to make sense except that his plugs will not match
with the outlet sockets from the generator. I think the Japanese must be still be
trying to get their revenge on the Americans for losing the war. Charlie will have
to be called in the morning.
The Japanese have slightly plagued us over the past few days. I am still trying
to understand what they mean in the handbook for the generator by “Engines
supplied to the torrid zone will no attach the rubber plug”. The Tonka toy’s
handbook makes reference to brake squeal which will occur if it snows. Lindsay
feels she will have good reason to be concerned if her brakes begin to squeal.
I can’t resist including a couple of pictures
of the Tonka toy.
Day 47 – Wednesday. 6am and Sandy is busily rushing around trying to restore
our electricity but with little success. I am sure we will have to await Charlie
when we hear the water pump start up. Nothing else works but at least we can
have showers. Although I believe stress to be an American invention and
therefore not applicable to the English, I am beginning to wonder what they
mean by life in Antigua being stress free.
I have never believed in stress. It's something one creates in oneself. After I
was blown up in the Grand Hotel in Brighton, the police asked if I wanted post
traumatic stress counselling. I told them I didn't believe in stress and that I had
been too drunk to be traumatised. It transpired that I could receive criminal
injuries compensation if I admitted to having post traumatic stress disorder.
Pride wouldn't let me do it although I did get a fair bit of money for a girl who
was with me and physically injured.
Since John Burton is the Suzuki Jimny aficionado extraordinaire I give him a
sneak pre-view of the Tonka toy by e-mail. He responds with the comment it
looks like Postman Pat’s van. Too late, Lindsay has already recognised this.
John suggests we get a black and white cat to complete the set. I tell him we
are looking after two dogs, one of which is black and white. I ask if this will do.
So far he hasn’t responded.
Now that she has her own car, Lindsay doesn’t need to drive into the office with
me. I arrive at eight and Lindsay at ten, by arrangement. It gives me time to
get work done on the computer before she arrives.

Our new computer still hasn’t arrived and I ring the supplier who has had my
money for a week and still hasn’t sent the computer. He tells me that between
my order and receiving my money he has run out of stock and he can’t get any
more from Apple. I am not sure I believe him but unfortunately, he’s in the U.K.
and I’m here. All kinds of thoughts of being defrauded run through my mind. I
might have to set the ‘heavies’ on him. Fortunately, you can now issue Court
Orders on line but it doesn’t help with our computer problem at the office.
I have to sort out various things with Paul by e-mail over the boat and tell him
that the name and sail number must be removed. Paul says he wants to take
the boat over as soon as he can and I suggest 1 st July which is the day my
mooring fees need to be renewed. I am still having pangs of doubt about selling
the boat but Paul has suggested that he will bring it out to Antigua for 2007 and
I can helm. It’s an offer I won’t be able to refuse but I won’t hold him to it. By
then he will probably be enjoying helming too much himself. Since I always
take the name with me Paul and Val will have to come up with an alternative. I
have the perfect name but I am not sure the will agree. As their surname is
Shilling and, for those old enough to remember, two shillings were a Florin, the
name is obvious but maybe not to them.
When Lindsay does arrive she tells me the electrical failure is my fault. On the
generator there is a switch which says 110 volts and another which says 240
volts. Since the house runs on a 110 volt system I turn the switch to 110. This
is wrong. When charging it is necessary to have the switch on 240 volts
regardless of the output of the inverter. I suppose if the hand book was
understandable I might have realised this. Fortunately I can blame those
damned, inscrutable Japanese and their strange translation into English.
Apparently, I have confused the inverter and it has gone into a sulk and lost its
memory. Charlie has connected another inverter whilst he talks nicely to the old
one to get it going again. I can only assume since it was so easily confused the
inverter must be female.
Frank, who was supposed to turn up at nine to finish the self-starting rang at
half ten and asked if he could come now. Since I haven’t paid him yet and what
he needs to do is not preventing me from using the system, I tell him I have to
go to St. John’s and he will have to come back tomorrow.
On the way to St. John’s to take some photographs I get waved down by a
woman wanting a lift. I have noticed that the women quite happily hitch from
white male drivers but very rarely from black drivers. It seems a sort of reverse
racialism. Presumably they feel safer with white men. Having dropped her off,
two more flag me down. I am beginning to feel like a taxi service. Admittedly, I
am driving along a route rarely used by the buses which are all privately owned
and tend to stick to the busier routes. On the bus routes, people don’t often try
to hitch lifts as the buses very frequent and cheap.

Back at the office I need access to the computer to deal with the photographs
and turn them into an advertisement. Lindsay is using it and my impatience is
obviously showing. Lindsay, now having her own transport, decides to go
home. Alexis and I agree that until we have another computer it is probably
preferable that Lindsay only comes into the office occasionally since neither she
nor I are enjoying fighting over one computer. I end up staying in the office until
nearly six to catch up with work on the computer then nip off for a quick Tot
before going home. Lindsay decides she can’t be bothered to drive out to join
me. Having taken the dogs for a walk, she would need to change.
At home I decide to run the generator. The dogs always come with me when I
go into the garden. Having hung the exhaust extension hose out of one of the
power room windows it is suspended about two foot from the ground. As I start
the engine there is quite a commotion outside. I look out to see two dogs
beating a hasty retreat amongst a cloud of black smoke. They must have been
investigating the end of the hose as I started the engine.
Day 48 – Thursday. Lindsay having her own car is a much better arrangement.
I go to the office on my own and she can, if she wishes, turn up later. There are
a few things to be done in St. John’s so she can get out and about a bit. I think
being stuck with each other 24 hours a day and sometimes in difficult
circumstances, particularly in the office, has put a bit of a strain on both of us.
With luck, we will be back to the old days in the U.K. when I went to the office
and she worked Civil Service hours or less.
Not unsurprisingly, nine o’clock has passed by and no sign of Frank to finish the
car although I have had one call to say that Roger and Kevin are arriving back
from their row around the island at 12.30. There is a rumour that they had to
turn back because of bad weather. On Tuesday there was a small craft
weather warning and I know they did not set off. Also, they were unable to stay
on their anchorage at Club Colona because of the swell and had to be towed to
Jumby Bay.
Half past nine and Frank arrives to tell me he has another two hours work on
the car. He explains why and it makes sense but I think he must be losing
money on this job.
Lindsay, having arrived in the office, I tell about the call from Charlie which had
informed me Roger and Kevin are due back in English Harbour at 12.30.
Lindsay suggests we go for lunch at the Galley Bar. Roger and Kevin’s timing
is almost impeccable. They arrive at 12.35. The newspaper press are there but
not the television cameras. A re-arrival is staged later.
Since both Lindsay and I need to use the computer and I have had it all
morning, I volunteer to go back and take the dogs for a walk and give them their
dinner. We are now leaving them at home since the confined office space is not
conducive to dogs and humans.

Walking the dogs I come across the neighbour who called on us a six the other
morning with a stray dog. Apparently the Vymirana comes several miles to visit
her dog and managed to get into her compound this afternoon. Her dog is off to
the vet tomorrow for a ‘morning after pill’.
The post Lindsay brings me back from St. John’s comprises one bank
statement and four letters from the Inland Revenue. The bank statement is on
my personal account which, since I can access it on the internet, is of little
interest. What I can’t access on the internet and Barclays stubbornly refuse to
send me, is a statement of my US dollar account. I would dearly love to have
one.
The first of the four letters from the Inland Revenue confirm that they have reestablished
my direct debit for my National Insurance contributions, cancelled
when I advised them we were moving abroad and tells me I have to do nothing.
Another gives me a statement of credits and debits which occurred between the
time I advised them that we were moving and the date we actually moved, after
which they were able to re-instate the direct debits. Apparently, I owe them
£8.20. Letter three produces, for the same period, a debt of £8.40. Do I owe
them £8.20 or £8.40 or the total of the two, £16.60? Letter four (a page and a
half) tells me I have 28 days to pay. Since the letter is dated 11 th May and
posted with a second class stamp, I am a bit out of time. However, I am
advised I can pay by 11 th May 2006 without penalty or even by 11 th May 2012
with a penalty. I thought Antigua was bureaucratic.
When we test drove the green Suzuki Jimny I tried to adjust one of the
dashboard air vents and a coin fell out. I noticed a corresponding coin in the
adjacent air vent. Lindsay tells me she now knows the purpose of the coins.
Without them as counterweights, the air vents cool the roof of the car.
Day 49 – Friday. As soon as I get into the office I check my U.K. bank accounts
and there is a big injection of capital. The sale of Lewes has obviously
completed leaving me devoid of assets in the U.K. unless you count the boat
which will go in the next few days. This leaves me with the task of moving
money around and clearing a few debts I had left in the U.K.. I had decided to
transfer as much money as I could into dollars whilst the pound was strong and
leave a few things to be paid off when Lewes completed. It proved to be the
right move because the dollar has gained nearly 10 cents since I switched from
sterling. However, I now needed to clear those debts.
Happily transferring money on the internet from Barclays I suddenly receive a
message telling me I have exceeded my daily limit of money transfers -
£25,000. I ring Barclays and ask for my daily limit to be increased. Apparently,
it is everybody’s daily limit and there is no way it can be increased. I am told it’s
for security purposes. I very much doubt that. It is Barclays limiting their liability
in case someone ‘hacks’ into their system and transfers money fraudulently. I

am told I can do it in person at a branch. I ask if they would care to pay my air
fare. I am given the option of sending a letter by post. We all know how long
the post takes to get from Antigua. It will be quicker to come into the office on
Saturday and Sunday and make part transfers on the internet.
Lindsay has arrived in the office (nearly lunchtime) with her hair so short she
looks like her brother. I am surprised I haven’t torn all my hair out with
frustration particularly when I kept being put on hold listening to music at 91p a
minute. The only company I have dealt with which has any appreciation of what
it’s like telephoning from abroad is American Express. They allow you to
reverse the charges and I am sure it motivates them to deal with the query
much more quickly. I need a break and suggest we walk a few yards to a local
café for lunch. We only order a starter each much to the surprise of the
waitress who often supplies us with filled baguettes for lunch. These baguettes
are so large they last all afternoon. Sometimes we don’t finish them. I complain
of having had a large breakfast.
We are receiving a number of articles from various contributors to the magazine
and, so far, I have rewritten every one of them, correcting factual inaccuracies,
grammar, spelling and punctuation. Alexis tells me they won’t mind. I hope he’s
correct. I had noticed a number of similar errors in previous publications and
have already twice sent back a proof to the typesetter for correction. All I can
say, thank goodness it’s Friday.
In the evening we receive our yacht club memberships. Probably the most
valuable aspect to being a member of the yacht club is the benefit of their
private car par which has an automatic barrier to prevent use by non-members.
In the season, parking in the Falmouth area can become a bit congested.
A rather elderly black and white cat wanders into the bar. Maybe John Burton
will get his wish. This cat has a fairly emaciated body with a huge, almost
deformed head and it’s face looks like Evander Holyfield’s after a few rounds
with Mike Tyson, most especially the left ear. The cat is surprisingly friendly
and Lindsay comments that its head is totally out of proportion to its body. I
suggest she checks out the other end. This is a real tom vat and his head is not
the only thing out of proportion to his body and I am not referring to his tail.
Alexis went game fishing this morning to get some photos for the fishing article
and returns with a couple of large fish steaks for our dinner. I can’t remember
whether he said they Mahi-mahi or Wahoo. Having no grill Lindsay has to fry
them. I have never been a great seafood fan and I will say I am somewhat
under whelmed by the fish although Lindsay enjoys hers.
Day 50 – Saturday. Lindsay has decided she doesn’t want to go for a run this
morning so I take the dogs for a walk. I ought to do this more often as the
obviously need a lot more lead training. The best thing would be for each of us

to take one each. There is no doubt which of us would take which dog. Lindsay
has a penchant for Ruthie and I definitely prefer Nuisance.
I have an appointment to take some photos for a car rental company. Of course,
despite having made an appointment, the owner isn’t there but his staff are
expecting me. I don’t quite know what he expected from a photograph but, as
the vehicles were parked, it would have looked like a run down, second hand
car lot. I spend the next hour reorganising the cars which is quite an experience
as I am jumping in out of manuals and automatics, left and right hand drive,
some with most odd had brake and gear lever arrangements. One minibus
which is as hot as hell inside has an automatic gear lever sticking out of the
steering column with absolutely not markings on it. The only way I can tell I am
in reverse is because a buzzer sounds.
Photos taken I am about to leave when the receptionist comes after me. I still
have all the keys. I joke I am trying to set up a rival hire car company and this
seems the easiest way. A customer laughs but I don’t think the receptionist has
a sense of humour.
Having been to the office to transfer more money up to my daily limit of £25,000
I set off to join Lindsay who has been spending the morning on Pigeon Beach
but as I pass the supermarket at Falmouth I see her car parked outside. I know
it’s hers because there can’t be another one like it on the island. As I get out of
my car I am accosted by a local trying to sell me mangoes. I suggest he asks
my wife. Quite rightly, he tells me he doesn’t know my wife. I point to the red
car and say she will be out soon. I go into the supermarket and tell Lindsay I
am heading for the yacht club, which is almost next door, to have a drink.
When Lindsay joins me she tells me she also refused the mangoes.
We decide to eat out and go to the yacht club first where the tot is being held.
When we get back home we find Ruthie with a large grasshopper in her mouth.
I persuade her to release it and it leaps away. How far it gets I am unsure but
next morning I find one of its legs on the veranda steps.
Now having a reliable source of electricity, we watch television for the first time
since our arrival. It’s a DVD and since we have extracted only three from our
stock the choice is a bit limited. We watch I-Robot. Unfortunately, the controls
are for the other television which is still packed away downstairs. The television
sets itself to default mode which means the picture is a long strip across the
middle of the screen. Lindsay says it’s like being in the cinema without the popcorn.
Day 51 – Sunday. A day of rest or it should be. The dogs are awake at 5.30
and I get up to take them for a walk. It’s a long one and I visit a couple of
places I have not seen before including a small beach at the end of our road.
Returning, it’s time to take advantage of my day of rest so back to bed for a
couple of hours extra sleep. As there is no Tot Club Keep Fit today I am tasked

with giving the dogs a bath. Firstly, I need to rebuild the dog gate which
Lindsay took a day and a half to construct a week ago and which has gradually
been falling apart. Today it finally collapses. It is just as well she did not take
up carpentry as a profession. In searching out some nails I come across my
amp meter which means we no longer have to rely on Sandy to assess the
state of charge in our batteries. They are low but it only takes an hour with our
nice new generator to bring them back up again.
Whilst looking for boxes of nails I seek out the television controls and find them.
The only nails I find are four inch, square cut, flooring nails which will have to
do. I could have rigged up an extension cable and used a drill to prepare pilot
holes but it would be too much hassle. A large round nail one of Sandy’s
workmen has left lying around will do. Lindsay is puzzled by the amount of
hammering and I explain the necessity for the pilot holes. At least the gate
won’t fall apart again.
Everything prepared, the dogs need to be separated. Not something which is
easy to do as one always wants to do whatever the other is doing. I take
Nuisance first into the garden and soak him with the hose. He does not seem
to object to much. Ruthie has her head poked through the veranda railings
above watching in trepidation. Picking up the bottle of dog shampoo I flip open
the lid and squeeze hard. Nothing happens. I squeeze harder with the same
result. Looking down the nozzle I can see a white obstruction. Underneath the
lid is a plastic seal which must be removed before use.
Ruthie is much more reluctant to be bathed. I have to half carry and drag her to
the hose where she shivers violently as I apply the water although she enjoys
the shampoo being scratched into her back. No sooner have I rinsed her down
than she goes and rolls in the dirt. I grab her and shove her up onto the
veranda before she does too much damage.
I need to go to the office to transfer some more money up to my daily limit and
to check on some e-mails. I have been somewhat puzzled as to why I had not
received replies to some of my e-mails. I make a comment to Lindsay who says
I have received replies. Apparently, she has been opening my e-mails and not
telling me. Once read, they go into my ‘old mail’ box. I am still at a loss to know
why she would think I would go and look for my e-mails in old mail. I have to
send one e-mail to apologise to a friend for having hassled him for a reply and
another to my elder daughter explaining why I hadn’t replied earlier.
We have some very weird cloud formations, tall columns rather like the
aftermath of a nuclear explosion. Are the clouds prescient of some bad weather
to come? The night is completely still and it has been raining, in areas, as it
usually does. We drive home over both wet and dry roads. A mist is arising
from the tarmac roads and condensation appears on the car windows. Lindsay
tries to wipe it off her side before she realises, unlike the U.K., it’s on the
outside.

It has been raining at the house and, as usual when we return home, I let the
dogs into the garden. When Sandy built the house he had someone put a layer
of topsoil over the garden. I am not sure whether it is anything to do with the
fact that he is a Scotsman but the layer is only one inch thick, just enough to
stick to dogs feet. I am not popular when I let the dogs back into the house.
Day 52 – Monday. I am not sure whether Antigua agrees with Lindsay too
much or not enough. As is more often the case, she takes the dogs for a run at
dawn and I go into the office at eight. Lindsay arrives at around lunchtime with
some sandwiches and having been shopping. Most of then shopping is
household but there are one or two items such as bikinis and flowery tops.
Having managed to circumvent the vagaries of Barclays system and transferred
the remaining money to various accounts means we have achieved our first
ambition in coming to Antigua, to live totally debt free. It is thirty five years since
I last had no mortgages, no loans, no credit card bills, no bank overdraft in fact,
no debts. I can’t say I feel any different.
Every so often I check my U.K. mobile for messages. There are three. The first
is obviously an accidental call from someone in the yacht club. From what I can
hear it is obviously during a race committee meeting. The only voice I can hear
clearly is H. I listen to the recording for a short while but at 91p per minute it
isn’t that interesting so I cut it off.
The top half of a fax from the U.K. Inland Revenue has come though the fax
machine before the ink has run out. Being early afternoon and having finished
my allotted tasks I drive to St. John’s to collect some office supplies and new
fax ink. Lindsay has left the shopping in her car which includes some
perishables so I take it home. The dogs think I have turned up to take them for
a walk. I feel guilty and decide to take them for a drive to St. John’s. It’s a big
mistake. They get restless on the drive and discover the netting keeping them
in the back is flexible and try to climb into the rear seat. I am concerned for my
leather but fortunately they are stuck halfway. If only I had sufficient
acceleration I could force them back over the netting. I contemplate reversing
and braking hard but there is too much traffic around.
We received an article from a local writer on the various trails cleared by the Tot
Club. Unfortunately, there are a number of inaccuracies and the article
concentrates on the Club rather than the trails. Having rewritten the article I
need some information from Terry and agree to meet him at the Tot Club. My
second mistake of the day. Lindsay is still in the office and I ask her if she
wishes to join me at the Tot. Not only is Lindsay not very good at drinking she
also doesn’t know when she has had too much until it’s too late. I should have
remembered I only began to know her after I had escorted her out of a night
club and poured her into a taxi and sent her home. That was about thirteen
years ago. Lindsay had only three rum and oranges but she is virtually

incoherent when she arrives home half an hour after me although we did leave
at the same time. Had I realised her state I would never have let her drive.
Unfortunately, I was too busy sorting things out with Terry. Lindsay blames the
bar staff who never measure drinks just pour as much as they think is suitable.
The better they know you, the more you get. I have no sympathy for her when
she develops a severe bout if hiccoughs.
Terry has lent me a U.S. DVD to see if it will work in our DVD player. I try and
the screen comes up with ‘WRONG REGION’. I open the set up menu and
have six options – PAL B/G, PAL 1, PAL D/K, China, Hong Kong and U.K..
Surely one of these must work but none does. It looks like we will be buying a
new DVD player or ordering a lot of U.K. DVDs although I can get it to run on
the laptop computer so if I find a way to link that to the television our problems
are solved. I might be easier just to buy a new DVD player.
Day 53 – Tuesday. I always thought there would be a day when there would be
nothing to write. Today may be the day but, perhaps, not quite. Having
checked the state of the batteries yesterday, I thought there was sufficient
charge to keep everything going over night. Either my meter is a bit inaccurate
or I haven’t quite understood how to read it. The power disappears in the
middle of the night. The fan stops and Lindsay wonders why is has warmed up
rather a lot. She had closed the windows and forgotten to open them. I think it
unreasonable to start the generator before six although there others running not
far away.
I arrived in the office at eight and didn’t leave until just before six. Seems just
like the U.K. but I did feel productive and it was quite rewarding. As I arrive
there is a message on the answerphone. It’s from my Barclays bank manager.
He realises that he has the time difference wrong but offers to sort any
problems I have. I ring back and get his answerphone and tell him I have
sorted the immediate problems but may have some he can deal with next week.
A couple of hours later my other bank in the U.K., Bank of Scotland, ring
returning my call from last Thursday. Since I have already closed my various
accounts with them, they are a bit late.
One thing I do discover is that the video DVD will run on my laptop but, since it
is a MAC, it will not interface with the television. MACs were way ahead of
Microsoft for so many years but I am beginning to realise that although most of
Bill Gates programming is pretty bad it has overtaken Apple. Yesterday I used
my PC at home to do something that I couldn’t do on the MAC. It really hurt to
find out that Microsoft had, for a change, done something better than anyone
else.
Our landlord pays me a visit. He has good news and bad news. The good
news is that he is giving me the first ripe mango off the tree that grows outside
our office window. The bad news is that he has our first electricity bill except he
can’t work out what it’s supposed to be. There are all kinds of fuel surcharges

dependent upon the spot market of oil, different dates for varying rates, in fact,
so many diverse prices it looks like a Seeboard bill. I wonder whether Gordon
Brown has appeared with a few of his stealthy taxes.
I have to go out of the office to get a few things and call into a bookshop which
has on display a variety of magazines. The choice includes an English car
magazine which is meaningless to me and Yachting World. Surprisingly, I
choose the car magazine and realise that since I am no longer involved in
active racing there isn’t much to attract me to Yachting World, I do get a slight
feeling of ‘having arrived’ when the lady behind the desk who I have never met
calls me “Mr Duffy”.
It’s convenient excuse to leave the office to meet Terry at six to collect some
paperwork from him. By then I need a drink. Lindsay had rung earlier and I
said I would meet her but, as usual, she arrives before me and Terry has
bought her a drink – water. I could have stayed half the evening, enjoying the
conversation and a couple of drinks but felt I ought to follow Lindsay home
which I did – half an hour later.
Day 54 – Wednesday. The dogs alarm clock seems to go off earlier each
morning. Today it’s five o’clock. There’s no point in ignoring the because the
just keep making a noise and there’s no way we can go back to sleep. It’s
drizzling and I’m glad Lindsay is taking them out. Apparently, it stops soon
after. Lindsay would have preferred it to continue as it keeps her cool while she
is running.
I am in the office until three, Lindsay having arrived at two. Still no news on the
new computer so we are taking it in shifts. I have to see someone about a
piece of land and be back for a meeting at five so Lindsay suggests I go home
and walk and feed the dogs. Standing on the veranda I watched the rain squalls
come over the sea. They clear quite quickly and the sky is blue again. Time to
take the dogs out. It’s payback time for my thoughts in the morning. I have only
gone a couple of hundred yards when the heavens open. There is no point in
turning back as I am drenched in seconds. Quite where this storm cloud comes
from I have no idea. It must have doubled back and sneaked over the hill as
soon my back was turned.
The dogs obviously don’t appreciate the rain and don’t do what they are
supposed to do on their walk. At one stage I contemplate taking shelter under a
small tree until I realise it’s a Manchineel tree. It’s berries are poisonous but
worse still, when it rains it sap dissolves and the water becomes a form of acid
which burns quite nastily.
On the walk I investigate a part built but now derelict house. It was started
about ten years ago and abandoned. Finished, it would make a lovely if
somewhat unusually arranged house. When I return home in the evening

Lindsay tells me the land is up for sale but as two one and a half acre plots, far
more than we want.
Nuisance (a.k.a. Useless)
Ruthie
My meeting is with the Marketing Committee of the Antigua Marine Trades
Association. Somehow, without being asked or offering my services, I have
become part of this committee. I find myself in a most unusual situation. I
haven’t a clue what’s going on and can contribute nothing. I just sit and listen,
most unlike me.
Back home Lindsay suggests I take the dogs out for a walk again since I failed
in my duty to get them to perform earlier. One does and the other doesn’t. I
wonder if that means I have to take them out again. At least it isn’t raining.
We eat the mango our landlord gave us yesterday. He said it would be perfect
for eating today. Lindsay insists it slightly over-ripe. It seems fine to me. What
is most surprising is that we have been here two months on an island where
there is such a surplus of mangoes they are almost free and we have only just
managed to get around to eating one.
I have to stop writing because Lindsay wants to watch the DVD we have been
loaned and the only thing to play it on is the laptop.
Day 55 – Thursday. There is no doubt, getting out of the office makes an
awfully big difference to the day. Business has been going surprisingly well.
We are already ahead of last year’s income and we haven’t counted in the
money we get from the Department of Tourism which is about another five
percent. Also, I am quite enjoying the designing stage. I always thought I had
an artistic talent. In due course others will be able to tell if I am correct. In
addition, an opportunity has arisen to acquire another publication. In itself, not
really profitable but it will help to build a creditability base. I have started
negotiations and suspect they will be concluded fairly quickly.
I make myself a long list of things to do out of the office. I suspect I will be gone
for a couple of hours. At least, that’s what I tell Lindsay and Alexis. Well, it’s

Antigua time and it takes me three hours. My morning (having spent three
hours in the office) starts with a visit to the bank. This time there is no queue
and I am served immediately. Somehow I always end up with the same teller
who asks why we don’t have a Premium account. I point out that we do.
Apparently we have been issued with the wrong cheque books.
My next call is to get a couple of extra diesel cans for the generator and a can
of oil for Lindsay’s car. The previous owner was a woman and I am a bit
concerned that the fluid levels may not have been topped up. Next door to the
car accessory shop is a bakery and I have instructions to buy fresh bread.
Unfortunately, they only sell French shaped bread. I am sure they are missing
out on an opportunity since it is freshly cooked.
Success and failure greets my foray into the next shop. I manage to purchase
some picture hooks which Lindsay thinks are too insubstantial for the weight of
my yachting pictures. I fail to find some restraints for the hurricane shutters at
the office. The fiddly hooks which currently hold them in place are driving me
mad.
Where I go after the bakery I hope to report on in about two weeks time. All I
will say is “watch this space”. The freshly baked bread I manage to find
elsewhere.
The post office reveals four bank statements and a card from Lindsay’s parents.
Lindsay has given me a letter to post which should have gone about a month
ago so has accumulated all kinds of detritus in the meantime. The price of the
postage takes me back a bit but not as much as my next purchase.
Lindsay had suggested it was about time I bought some new reading glasses.
She had seen some in an optician near to the Post Office. I select the only pair
on the stand which are the right strength (quite weak) and tell the assistant I will
have them. The next few minutes reminds of the time I walked into Russell &
Bromley, saw a shoe displayed on a shelf and asked for a pair in my size. I was
in a hurry and didn’t even try them on, telling the assistant to just pack them.
The first time I saw the price was as I signed the credit card slip. The only
consolation was that I didn’t have to pay for them for another month.
Having bought a couple of pair of reading glasses in the U.K., the first in
Sainsbury’s at £9.99 and the second in the terminal at Gatwick Airport some
years ago when I realized we were about to embark on a long flight and my
glasses were at home. The purchase price of this pair were similar to my earlier
glasses. The actual cost of my new glasses is EC$200, over forty pounds.
Being in a spending mood, I decide to buy new video and DVD players except I
did not appreciate how backward is the American system. They still do not
have SCART connections and our equipment will not connect to theirs. I
sometimes wonder when their technology will get out of the mid twentieth

century. A search on the internet reveals several companies in the U.K. and
Europe which sell converters but none in the U.S.. Why am I surprised? I order
some converters on line but come across an immediate problem. I decide to
use Lindsay’s parents as a delivery address but, according to the website, the
credit card address has to be the same as the delivery address. I write a long
explanation in a box provided for delivery instructions advising the vendors that
I live in Antigua and since they only deliver to the U.K. and Europe this is the
only way I can buy their products. They must have someone monitoring the
other end because I was offered the option of giving a different card address.
Whether or not I am to receive the goods is yet to be seen.
I am ahead of myself because I have to go into St. John’s to pay a visit to the
insurance company. The other day I discovered a whole page of the list of our
contents under the lid of my scanner and, being one third of the total, the
insurance company are under the delusion that they are cover fewer items the
is actually the case. Whilst in there I get talked into buying some raffle tickets. I
will get my revenge next time I am in St John’s. Lindsay is selling raffle tickets
for another charity and intend to collect. Perhaps it will give me some insight in
how good they are at paying out on claims.
Obviously, my search on the internet for SCART converters occurs after my
return to the office but not before I have tried a couple of shops in St. John’s.
The first is the Aladdin’s Cave I found a week or so ago. As before, there is a
language barrier problem. They are Italian, I think. Eventually, I leave empty
handed. In the next shop, one I have sought out on several occasions but
never found, they know what I am talking about and the owner tells me he
asked a friend who is on holiday in the U.K. to buy some but he has no idea
when he will be returning.
Apart from filling my three 5 gallon cans with diesel I have only one remaining
task and I venture, for the first time, into the meat market. It is virtually empty
and most of the stalls are bare. The first butcher I speak to doesn’t have any
joints of beef. I wander around and see some rather nice looking pork but I am
under instructions to get beef. Another butcher approaches me and I explain
what I want. He walks off and returns with half a cow on his shoulder. He
points to chunk of meat and I suggest a small piece. He cuts off not very much
less using a large knife and an enormous hacksaw. Throwing it into an old
fashioned set of scale he tells me it is EC$30, about £6. I don’t how much it
weighs but it is very heavy.
A woman is introduced to me whose name I can’t remember but knows
someone who used to work for me, Jo. In fact, she updates me on the latest
gossip. Last time I met Jo she was madly in love and getting married in June.
Apparently, that’s all off. She comments rather loudly on the amount of press
coverage we received when we left the U.K. complaining that the press took no
interest in her departure. It causes an embarrassing silence amongst those to
whom we are talking.

Day 56 – Friday. It is just as well Lindsay is out walking the dogs. A tiny bird
flies into the bedroom. Due to the height of the ceilings it is impossible to reach.
I try chasing it out by waving a towel around to no avail. A brush on a long
handle is more effective. The bird keeps attempting to exit through a nonopening
window about ten feet above the floor and I can trap it against the glass
with the brush but can’t reach it. Fortunately, we brought a ladder with us and I
collect it from the store room below. By this time the bird has decided to nestle
within the boxes we are storing on the platform above the bathroom and study.
I clamber up and chase it out having remembered to turn off the ceiling fan.
Trapped again by the brush against the window I slowly ascend the ladder
trying not to move the brush. The bird is successfully captured. It is a miniature
beauty, mainly a strong yellow and black but flashing iridescently with a whole
variety of other colours. It’s heart is beating so fast I think it might expire. I
release it over the balcony.
This is not my first encounter with birds in Antigua. Only the other day I came
across a much larger bird which appeared to be trapped behind some disco
equipment in Life bar. I grabbed it and threw it out to sea only to have it return
immediately. Apparently, it has some chicks nesting in a flag suspended from
the ceiling.
A few weeks ago I had met someone who was selling some land near to where
we live. Unfortunately, the two plots he had for sale were under offer but he
was a bit dubious about them going through and had given the purchasers an
ultimatum to close the deal by the end of June. Being 1 st July I decide to visit
him and enquire whether they have completed. Unfortunately he is away or, in
the local parlance, ‘off island’. There is someone else I want to speak to
regarding another piece of land but I haven’t been able contact her.
On my way back to the office I have a look at a couple of other plots which I
have known are for sale but I have never been too sure about the area. Driving
up the road it is much better than I realized so I call in to see the agent. It turns
out, as is so often the case, the land is owned by the agent and he is not willing
to sell the plots separately, only as one lot.
Lindsay has persuaded me to take her to lunch. I think she thinks we are on
holiday and can eat out as we did when we visited Antigua before, although
eating out, most of the time, is quite cheap except that Lindsay wants me to
take her to Cloggies. As Alexis says, the amount they charge for food is
offensive. It’s more expensive to have lunch there than it costs in most places
for dinner. I say it’s the last time we are going there. Furthermore, Lindsay
asks the owner to buy some raffle tickets and the miserable bloke only
purchases one.
After lunch I track down the woman who is supposed to have information about
some land in English Harbour. She doesn’t but suggests I contact Eustace, the

owner of the Ocean Inn. We stayed in the Ocean Inn some years ago so we
know Eustace. He agrees to meet me at 3.30 and shows me a plot overlooking
English Harbour. I am quite impressed and tell him I will show Lindsay later.
He promises to provide a plan if I call back. He also knows the owner of the
other plot we were interested in at Christmas. I ask him to have a word with the
owner to find out if he really wants to sell as I am not sure whether it is the
agent or the owner who has been messing us around.
Lindsay thinks the plot is near perfect and she likes the idea of not having to
deal through an agent and Eustace has the plan not that it’s much use. It is just
a rectangle on a piece of paper with a north pointing arrow and some
measurements. There is nothing else on the paper to relate the land to
surrounding properties. While Lindsay would like to go for the plot, I am inclined
to wait and see what happens to the land near us.
Len, the American we get on with quite well, has returned to the island and
brought his wife with him. Unfortunately, she turns out to be one of those
typically loud American ladies who thinks she knows everything about
everything but actually knows very little about anything plus she never lets
anyone get in a word. In these circumstances I go into shutdown mode.
Day 57 – Saturday. A normal lie-in is not possible with the dogs. Still we are
now halfway through our sentence. After Lindsay has taken them for a run at
5.30 it’s possible to return to bed and try and get a bit of extra sleep except the
dogs bark at every outside movement and Sandy has someone working in his
garden.
I have a few tasks beginning with washing my car which I intend to do with my
jet washer which I can now run with the generator and 240 volt inverter. It takes
me quite a while to set everything up and, having done so, I point the jet at the
car and a miserable stream of water comes out. Nothing I do will encourage a
stronger flow. I go back into the house and the smell of burning indicates
something is wrong. I have placed too high a load on the inverter and burnt it
out.
Lindsay goes to the beach and I set about fixing some pictures to the wall. It is
best if I do it when she’s not in because she will only argue with me about what
should be where, how many pictures, the heights, levels, etc.. On her return
her immediate comment is that there are too many and they are not the same
level. I point out that since every picture frame is a different size it is impossible
to have the level. I have no doubt that, unless any of the picture hooks falls out
of the wall, they will be there until the day we move.
At the end of lunch Lindsay produces a green coloured fruit and says it’s an
orange. To me, it looks like an overgrown lime. Inside it is bright yellow so if it
is an orange it is totally misnamed and it doesn’t even taste like one.

We have discovered we have been having nightly visitations from cockroaches.
I am fairly convinced I know where they are living, in some packing boxes we
have stored in the porch. A little investigation soon proves I am right. Leaving
the box closed I spray insect killer into the box. The noise from inside makes
me feel like a mass murderer. A few escape and are quickly dispatched. We
move the boxes outside and will take them down to the rubbish pen once we
are satisfied there are none left.
Having destroyed our inverter I drive into St. John’s to buy another one. I know
my little electrical store will not have anything suitable so I call at another, more
substantial store. I tell them what I want and they produce a 1,000 watt inverter.
It is only when I get back to the car I notice it is a 12 volt to 110/240 inverter and
I want a 110 to 240 inverter. I return to the shop and they tell me what I want is
not an inverter but a transformer. Unfortunately, they only have 220 to 110
transformers and I want the other way around. They say they can switch it. I
am dubious but let them try. I won’t know if it works until I get home. Having
paid EC$995 for the inverter and the transformer costing only EC$495 they owe
me EC$500. They try to re-credit my card without success. They even ring
First Caribbean Bank but still achieve nothing. In the end they give me EC$500
in cash. I feel a bit guilty because they will have incurred charges on the
original transaction which they won’t recover. At least the transformer works.
Lindsay and I go and have another look at the plot. I must admit, I am still not
convinced but Lindsay is quite keen. Later we run into Sandy at the yacht club
and we talk about the plots near where we live. It turns out Sandy knows the
architect for the people buying the plots and the architect has heard nothing
from them for six months. It rather looks as though the sales may have fallen
through in which case we may be in with a chance.
Day 58 – Sunday. No risk of a lie in with the dogs wanting their walk at 5.30.
My turn to walk them and we encounter a couple of loose dogs which run like
scared rabbits. We then encounter a couple more loose dogs one of which is
quite aggressive and charges at us. I point at it (Crocodile Dundee style) and
shout at it to back off. It stops about ten feet away, snarling and barking. Its
partner is quite the reverse. She slowly comes forward, legs half bent and head
down wanting to be stroked and appearing to want to make friends with the two
dogs I have. After a few minutes she runs off and joins her companion and they
both disappear.
I have decided the dogs need renaming – Stubborn and Stupid. Later I make
the observation that Ruthie is bloody minded but, after all, she is female. Noone
picks me up on the fact that I have renamed the male Stupid.
It’s Tot Club Keep Fit again and Terry has promised me he has a new blade for
the chain saw. It doesn’t fit, the chain is too long. The chain saw has a big
label on it saying it takes a 16” chain. The new chain has a big label on it

saying it’s 16” long so what is the problem? It’s an American chain saw and
they always think everything they have is bigger than it actually is.
Despite sharpening the old blade it still burns through the timber rather than
cutting it. Regardless of this encumbrance we make good progress and the
area looks a lot clearer when we finish than when we started. As we return to
the cars I notice a sign advertising reflexology. It refers to breathing problems,
joint problems, aches, pains and allergies. The way I now feel I could easily
become a client except for the allergies which I have a tendency to believe are
psychosomatic.
We have invited Terry and Connie back to lunch yet I feel I could happily go to
bed. Before leaving the house, I put the beef in the oven which is a mistake. I
still haven’t managed to get the hang of this gas oven and, despite turning it
down on Lindsay’s insistence, the beef is still over-cooked. Lindsay advises me
we have no eggs so I can’t cook Yorkshire puddings, a challenge anyway since
our pans for such purposes are still in the drawer under the cooker in England.
I tell her I can do it without an egg and start preparing the batter when Sandy
turns up. He obviously wants to talk so I offer him a beer. Soon after, Connie
and Terry arrive. I retire to the kitchen having just put the Yorkshire pudding
batter in the oven when Lindsay appears with two eggs. She has borrowed
them from Sandy. I pull the hot mixture out of the oven and quickly whisk in an
egg.
Sandy tells me our neighbour is complaining about the noise of our generator. I
find this astounding since we can quite clearly hear his generator plus we hear
him shouting at his dogs or his children, not sure which, plus, yesterday, we
could hear the Live Aid concert as though it was in our house and he lives 100
yards away. I hesitate to say it but he is American and self interest has always
been high on their agenda. It is amazing how anti-American I am becoming in
having to deal with their insularity, selfishness and complete lack of appreciation
of other people and the rest of the world. It begins to make me understand why
half the world hates them excluding, of course, Tony Blair. There are notable
exceptions such as Len.
Lunch finished I invite Terry to sample my various whisky’s. There are twenty
six and Terry manages six of them. He is a little unsteady when he leaves.
_
Day 59 – Monday. My mobile ‘phone rings in the office at 8.30. It’s my mother.
I have never been very good at social chit-chat on the ‘phone and we have a
fairly stilted conversation not helped by her still suffering from the affects of her
stroke. My father comes on the ‘phone but cannot hear what I am saying
despite me shouting. Even when I yell at him that he ought to buy a hearing
aid, something he should have done ten years ago, he still doesn’t hear me. He
keeps asking if we are moving back to England and can’t quite understand why
I say no. Maybe I am giving the wrong impression in my ‘letters’ home.

Yesterday Lindsay commented she was seeing a side to my character or, in her
terms, psyche, of which she wasn’t aware until she started reading my jottings.
My next telephone call was from my bank manager. I had left a message on his
answerphone on Friday, somewhat concerned about some money transfers to
here. The pound is dropping like a stone and it’s costing us money every
minute the money doesn’t get transferred. I have made a bit of a mistake. I
should have switched the money straight to dollars, as I had done with all
previous transfers, then moved it here. As it happens the conversion will not
take place until the money arrives. I calculate that I have already lost around
£6,000 on the recent fall of the pound and that is on top of the losses as a result
of Lewes taking so long to complete. My decision to switch everything into
dollars while the pound was strong seems to have been correct. Although I
expected the pound to fall it does seem be happening sooner and faster than I
had anticipated. Maybe some of Gordon Brown’s more recent monetary
decisions together with the old Labour ‘tax & spend’ policies are beginning to
have an undesirable affect on the British economy.
One thing that annoys me about using computers here is that in order for them
to work in dollars you have to make them think they are in the U.S.. Of course,
that means you have to suffer American spelling. I am gradually teaching my
computer correct English and, having noticed a few American spellings have
crept into the Marine Guide, I am dutifully expunging them all.
My third telephone conversation with the U.K. is regarding my cigars which,
hopefully, will soon be on their way. My supply is running low and my original
source in Spain failed to come up trumps. One good piece of news. Lindsay
tells me that the SCART converters I have ordered for the televisions have
arrived at her parents. Since I only ordered them on Thursday that is quite
quick work. We will see how long they take to get here.
I have so much work to do that my whole day is spent in the office. I don’t even
have time for lunch. As we are still one computer short, so I tell Lindsay I will
ring her when she can have some computer time. At about 10.30 Alexis goes
out so I ring Lindsay to say she can come and do a couple of hours work. Her
‘phone is switched off. I try half an hour later and it’s still switched off. Lindsay
claims there was no signal. Eventually, we do speak but I don’t think it’s worth
her while coming in. We agree she will come down just before six and we will
go to the Tot.
Quarter to six and no sign of Lindsay. I still have a lot of work to do so I am not
too bothered but I think I better ring her since it takes a few minutes to shut
everything up or down, dependent upon whether it’s window shutters or
computers. Lindsay has already driven past the office and noticed the shutters
open and has turned around.

The only problem with going to the Tot is that you end up spending an hour or
so in the bar and all I really want to do is go home and have something to eat
and sleep. A bowl of cereal at 6.30 this morning is not exactly sustaining me at
6.30 in the evening.
Day 60 – Tuesday. Maybe I misjudged Warren. He tells me our computer has
arrived and it will be dispatched today. If UPS is up to their reputation it should
be in Antigua in two days however, we then have to deal with the Antiguan
Postal Service and Customs so, maybe, next week.
We still have a cockroach problem and I ask Alexis the best way to deal with
them. He mentions a product called ‘Roach Motel’. Apparently, they are little
round boxes with holes in the sides. The cockroaches go inside, each whatever
is inside which poisons them but not instantly. They go back to their nests and
infect their mates. Seems to me like the ultimate in chemical warfare. I could
easily become the cockroach equivalent to Sadam Hussein. I purchase a
dozen plus a fumigator which instructs you to leave the house for three hours.
Later I discover a company which will come out once a month on contract and
deal with such things. Not as much fun but probably more reliable.
I have a visit to Jolly Harbour. I am coming from English Harbour which means
it’s much easier to find. It also means Lindsay can come into the office and use
the computer. Since I am going to Jolly Harbour it also means I get the
shopping list. Unfortunately, what you might want is not always available and,
men will understand this conundrum, when your wife writes out a shopping list,
it bears no relationship to where anything is in the store. In these
circumstances, I tend to over-shop, however, the supermarket has no tomatoes
and I forget the eggs. Fortunately, I have planned to drive on to St. John’s to
pick up our post so I collect the eggs and tomatoes at and alternative
supermarket.
There must be something about the road between Jolly Harbour and St. John’s
that is confusing. This is the first time I have done it in the opposite direction
and, whilst I don’t exactly get lost, I don’t end up precisely where I want to be. If
I ever win the Lottery I am going to buy Antigua a set of sign posts which all
point to Jolly Harbour.
The post contains my Barclaycard bill but nothing from American Express. Both
are due about now. Returning to the office I pay Barclaycard on-line and ring
American Express for my balance. I like ringing American Express because
they pay the call charges. They give me a figure which seems rather high.
Whilst talking to them I am on-line collecting my e-mails. In due course AOL
tells me I have been on-line for 254 minutes and I ought to check my billing. I
remember that AOL deduct my charges from my American Express card. I
wonder whether, unlike the U.K., I am being charged for the whole time we are
on-line and, as we leave AOL connected the whole time, this could be quite
expensive. There is a method of checking your account and I have a look. It

shows my charges as £3,445. After my heart attack, I contact American
Express and ask if these higher charges are anything to do with AOL.
Fortunately not, my annual American Express charge of £600 has been debited
to my card accounting for the higher than expected cost.
Next port of call is to AOL with whom I have to correspond on line. After I
manage to explain why I have a U.K. account but live in Antigua they assure me
that since I signed up for AOL Anytime it doesn’t matter how long I spend online.
What puzzles me is why the account shows such vast expenditure if they
have no intention of charging me. I certainly have no intention of paying it.
When I arrive at the office Lindsay has done the revenue figures with still one
major client to commit. It appears we have increased the income by about 25%
which, in two months, isn’t bad and bodes well for next year when we can really
get organized.
For some time I have been putting off doing my final V.A.T. Return. In fact, I am
still owed some money from the U.K. and have been reluctant to pay V.A.T. on
money I may never receive. When I check my bank account the only
outstanding money is due from the Red Cross for services they have received
and, as they have always been good, if late, payers, I decide to do the Return.
As I fill it in I notice that if I don’t complete it by 11 th July I am subject to a
penalty. I complete and, rather than rely on the post, fax it. As the fax is half
completing its transmission I realize I have left a vital item off the Return. I stop
the transmission and rewrite the Return. Having no Tipex, it’s a bit of a mess
but since I owe them money I am not sure they will mind too much.
I had intended to quit the office a bit earlier today. Alexis always arrives a bit
after me and leaves at three although I suspect he does work before he arrives
since he has always read the e-mails. At half five Lindsay rings and asks if I am
going to the Tot. Since it’s near that time, I say yes but only just make it.
There are a couple of tropical storms marching their way up through the
Caribbean and we are feeling the affects of one of them. It makes the weather
quite pleasant with fairly strong winds. What I find surprising is the way people
talk about the weather. I have been sailing in stronger winds than this yet
everyone seems a bit nervous. I am beginning to wonder if the rarity of bad
weather makes people apprehensive. In the U.K. winds of this strength are
common place.
Day 61 – Wednesday. Lindsay and I try taking the dogs for a walk together on
the basis that if we have one each they may be easier to try to lead train. It
makes no difference. They are just as competitive with each other when being
walked separately.
On my way into St. John’s to pick up some photographs I call into a workshop
which specializes in all manner of mechanical garden equipment and tell them

of my chainsaw problem. A very young lad appears and I explain that if he
removes a couple of links the chain might fit. He takes the chainsaw and new
chain out to the back of the workshop. A few minutes later he reappears and
tells me the chain is too big. I explain I already know this which is why I brought
it in. He gives me an exasperated look and points out that not only is the chain
too long but that each individual link is too big for the grove in the chainsaw’s
blade. I ask if he has the right one which he does but he won’t take my new
and unused chain in part exchange.
Lindsay has been to get some petrol from Slipway only to find them closed.
Before she goes again I ring and ask if they are open pointing out that they had
been unexpectedly closed. I am told they only close for lunch. It must have
been a very early lunch at 10.30 in the morning. Lindsay tries again and they
are closed again. Must be a very long lunch.
We have a spare page in the Marine Guide and Alexis suggests we try to get
some last minute advertising. I feel we need more text. He asks what I think is
lacking. I suggest humour. I wrote a few articles some years ago, one of which
I feel I may be able to adapt. Although Alexis has a scanner at home and so do
we, neither has yet brought one into the office. I need to scan in the photos I
have collected and, as my scanner has a text reader, I want to scan in the
article. Unfortunately, the space we have is for 700 to 800 words and the article
is over 2,000. I try précising it and changing its location from Europe to Antigua
but it doesn’t work and isn’t funny. Back to square one.
As it has been rather cloudy the solar panels are not charging the batteries very
well and we are running the generator rather a lot. This morning, when I went
to start it, the battery was flat and I had to use jump leads. I wondered whether
by leaving the power lead in the generator when it is not on battery power
drains into the general system. I decided we should disconnect the lead after
charging and see if it makes any difference. It starts okay in the afternoon.
Since I am working at home I take the dogs for a walk and decide to try taking
them off the lead. I wait until I am in a large, fenced plot which leads down to a
beach. The dogs love it and are reasonably obedient, coming when called,
well, several calls. One thing which hadn’t occurred to me is their liking for the
water. Both of them are straight into the sea. Despite walking them back
through long grass they are still wet and covered in sand. Although I sweep
through the living room and remove enough sand to build a small castle when
Lindsay returns home she is not amused by the amount scattered around the
house.
Day 62 – Thursday. The electricity cuts off at about ten to six. Not bad since I
usually start the generator at six. The battery is flat again. I conclude it must be
a battery problem which is surprising since the generator and, therefore, the
battery, is new. I check the water level in the battery. It is empty. Presumably
they are shipped empty and no-one has put any in. It’s back to the jump leads.

Once in the office I telephone UPS to find out what has happened to our
computer. They have no record of it being collected. I suggest they get on and
collect it. They tell me they can’t because of a bomb scare. I mention it to
Alexis who looks at the news on the internet. He tells me of the four bombs
which have gone off in London. At this stage there are reports of only two dead
but it is obvious that total will rise.
The next call is from the tobacconist in the U.K.. None of the shippers will carry
tobacco. I will have to think of an alternative. A call from Mike Rose, visiting
the U.K. and whose dogs we looking after, gives me an idea. Maybe, if I can
get the cigars to him. I do suggest some G2 razor blades would be useful.
On my way home to use the scanner again (it gets me out of the office and
allows Lindsay to use the computer) I receive a call from the solicitors. We
have our Work Permits, except we don’t. When I get there to collect them I am
told we have to pay the massive sum of EC$12,500 and the application still has
to go to the Work Permit Department. I am not sure whether it is the solicitor
being inefficient or the Work Permits Department being slow. Probably both.
I just escape the traffic of St. John’s when I receive a telephone call from
someone with an office right on the waterfront asking me to collect a disk from
them. I turn around and go back.
An e-mail from Chris White, back in the U.K. after a trip to Australia, tells me I
can download a ‘hack’ from the internet which will enable me to alter our DVD
player to an international standard. I check the two sites he has given me and
our DVD player is the only one which does not have a ‘hack’.
Today is not going well and the generator will not start again without jump leads
despite me having filled the battery.
Day 63 – Friday. My first call of the morning is to the computer supplier in the
U.K. to ask what has happened to our delivery. He tells me UPS has returned it
to him. It is a month since we made our initial order and it still hasn’t left the
U.K.. I ring UPS who tell me the package was returned because it was not
accompanied by the right paperwork. I tell UPS to go back to the shop and I will
ensure the paperwork is right. I ring the shop and only get answerphone so I
leave a message telling them to ring. I hear nothing so I send a fax but still hear
nothing. My patience is getting a bit thin so I rather than ring the manager’s
direct line I ring the main number knowing I will have to press option buttons
and listen to music. When I finally get an assistant he receives the rough edge
of my tongue. A few minutes later an e-mail from the manager tells me they are
not allowed to make international calls but he has acted upon my instructions.
We will see what happens

Whilst all this was going on I received a call from the tobacconist. DHL will
deliver my cigars. I order enough to last me about a year. In future, I will buy
enough in the U.K. when visiting and ask any friends and family visiting to try to
bring some with them.
We have been having problems with the download speed on our internet
connection for several weeks and I have constantly complained to the landlord.
In frustration I ask him to come and look at my download times. We do a speed
test and it shows the download speed as negligible. He cannot understand this
as his download speed is more than adequate. We try a whole variety of
different ways of connecting to the system and it eventually transpires that the
router I bought a few weeks ago is faulty. I will change it when I am in St.
John’s this afternoon.
An e-mail from Chris White tells me specifically where I can get a patch to
convert our DVD. I download it onto the laptop and will try it out when I get
home. We have a bit of banter over the e-mail about Lindsay going to
Woolworth’s to buy a DVD player.
Since I have to visit someone in St. John’s in the afternoon, I agree to walk and
feed the dogs on my way back. Although it is a mistake to let them off the lead
because they rush into the sea, they so enjoy themselves I do it anyway except
this time I bring them to the house around the back and onto the veranda. To
prevent them getting inside I have shut the veranda door forgetting it has one of
those locks which you can open from the inside but not the outside and I am on
the outside. I have to go around to the front door to let myself in.
Getting back into my car I notice a ‘missed call’ on my ‘phone. I do not
recognize the number and ring it back. It turns out to be someone we had met
since moving here inviting us around for drinks on Sunday evening. I am
delighted to accept. Later, Lindsay asks me what you take to someone’s house
when you are invited to drinks. It can’t be a bottle of wine. I suggest flowers or
chocolate. With the island in bloom, flowers are not particularly appropriate nor
have I seen any for sale. Chocolates may be a challenge.
I have some photography to do for an advertisement and ring Lindsay
suggesting she might like to come with me as it is nearly the end of the day. It’s
a restaurant on a beach and the owner want to get all aspects within the shot.
Impossible. I had taken some sighting shots and showed them to him.
Fortunately, he accepted my point of view and agreed I take the shot I thought
would be best. Lindsay and a few others posed as customers.
Day 64 – Saturday. A really lazy day, doing absolutely nothing except reading
in the morning. As Lindsay takes the dogs for a walk I cook breakfast.
Eventually, I summons up the energy to try out the patch for the DVD. I
download it from the laptop to a CD and put it into the player. I have left the
instructions I printed from the internet in the office so I hope it’s self-explanatory.

An area of the screen greys over covered with O’s which, preceded by an E,
gradually changes to W’s. After a few minutes everything goes blank. I turn off
the player and the T.V. wondering whether that’s the end of the DVD player.
Turning it back on we have a picture but something has happened as it’s a
different shape. I try a U.K. DVD and it works. All we now have to do is borrow
another U.S. DVD and see if that works.
In the evening there is the raffle draw and auction for the Amazing Grace
Foundation, the charity for which Roger and Kevin rowed around the island to
raise money. Three of the items in the auction are boat related which is a bit of
a mistake since, one way or another, most people have a connection with a
boat and they don’t sell very well. The fourth item is dinner, a room and
breakfast at the Curtain Bluff Resort, a rather exclusive hotel where rooms start
at US$500 per night. I buy it for US$400 which appears good value to me
particularly since we are getting dinner and breakfast thrown in. We also win
‘brunch’ at a local restaurant in the raffle.
Having asked Terry to loan us a U.S. DVD I try it out on our modified DVD
player and it works but I have to reset the screen size to suit the different
format. We start to watch The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. It is a
complete load of rubbish but at least we now know we can join the local video
store.
Day 65 – Sunday. After walking the dogs – me – we set off for Tot Club Keep
Fit and I am armed with the refurbished chain saw. The new chain is effective
for about ten minutes before the hardness of the mahogany trees blunts it. To
make matter worse, the chain keeps falling off. Despite this I mange to clear six
fairly substantial trees. I have been sent off to a different part of the trail with
two helpers. Until I have cleared the first tree there was not much for the
helpers to do so they disappear, one returning briefly to see how I am getting
on. Just after midday Lindsay appears as I am attempting, yet again, to refit the
chain. She tells me everyone is giving up. I have almost cut through a root
system of a tree when the chain has come off again and I want to finish it.
Lindsay grabs the log and gives it a good tug. It breaks away. That’s enough to
make me give up. My only remaining problem is to get the chainsaw back to
the car. The car is at the highest point of the trail and I am at the lowest. It’s a
long, tough climb back and the chainsaw weighs a ton by the time I am at the
top of the hill. Lindsay carries the last couple of hundred yards, on the level bit.
As we are going out to drinks this evening and we have nothing to take with us I
drop Lindsay off at the beginning of the road to the house (her idea). I am
rather short of petrol and head for the nearest garage and on into town. I am
soaking we from perspiration and filthy dirty. I get some very funny looks in the
supermarket. The only suitable things I can find are a box of After Eight and a
tin of Danish Biscuits. I buy both.

After a shower and a little siesta we head off to Sven and Julie’s for drinks not
knowing who else might be there. It turns out it is only the four of us. Their
house is fantastic as is the view. It’s a pleasant evening and Julie has gone to
considerable effort with various tit-bits. Being invited to someone’s house for
the first time it is always difficult to know when is the polite time to leave. I hope
we time our departure just right.
Day 66 – Monday. Lindsay has woken up with a stiff right leg. I thinks it’s an
excuse so I have to walk the dogs but she hobbles around the house and
blames yesterday’s ‘Keep Fit’. One benefit is that she can’t use her right leg on
the foot brake and is having to brake left footed. I have always told her that left
footed braking is the right way to drive an automatic and since this is her third
automatic car she ought to have learnt by now.
Sandy eventually gave us a lease the other day with some new clauses in it,
different from the original draft, mainly to do with hurricane protection. We are
not keen on the clauses since it lays too much responsibility upon us. I have
been meaning to discuss it with him but can’t find where the lease has gone. I
am sure Lindsay had it last and she thinks I moved it somewhere. Either way, I
need to discuss it with him fairly urgently as there is a storm forecast for
Thursday/Friday which could turn into a hurricane. Probably just another false
alarm but we don’t want to be caught out.
Having bought a new router for the internet I have discovered that it won’t work
with Apple Mac computers and, despite going onto the suppliers website and
sending them an e-mail, they have been no help whatsoever. Having been a
great fan of Apple Mac in the late ‘80s I am becoming increasingly disillusioned
with them. There are very simple things you can now do on a PC that you can’t
on an Apple.
Having always taken pleasure in photography I am finding that the odd bit I
have to do here is very enjoyable and sometimes a bit of a challenge. Although
I say it myself some of it is quite creative. Perhaps it’s all those years of taking
photos of house and being instantly able to recognize which is the best angle
and what the subject will look like when done. Having completely rearranged
some cars a few weeks ago, today I had to set up a shot for a restaurant and
carried a table (with help) fifty yards to get it in the foreground of the shot. The
result is exactly what I was expecting and fairly artistic. It was a lot of work for
one small advert. but it’s all good practise. The restaurant asked for copies for
their website which is taking about half an hour to send due to the high
resolution of the photos.
Two bits of good news today. The solicitor tells us that everything has been
regularized at the Antiguan equivalent of Companies House which appears to
be the High Court and we can finally complete our purchase of the business.
Also, since she has now received the receipts for our Work Permit payments we

can, semi-legally, work. Technically, we shouldn’t do so until we actually have
the permits but since it takes so long to get them, everybody does.
The bad news is that the person we have been waiting to return to the island so
we can talk to him about a piece of land is now not returning until next week. It
seems and endless series of delays particularly if the land he has is what we
think it is, we would prefer to buy it to any other.
There is some other bad news. A pack of dogs has got into Mike and Anne’s
garden and eaten all their chickens. At least we have managed to keep their
dogs alive although if I had been allowed to bring my shotgun here I am not so
sure.
Another thing which is difficult to get here is lighter gas so I have only one can.
In the U.K. I had one at home, one in the car and one on the boat. I have run
out of gas and the cylinder is at home. Despite being a large car there are
surprisingly few cubby holes in which to store a gas cylinder. I will have to find
a cylinder small enough to go in the sun glasses locker. I knew I would find a
use for it one day.
I am not sure whether an e-mail from Paul regarding the boat has depressed
me or cheered me up. Since it’s not personal I am printing it below. It does
make me miss my boat (ex-boat) and sailing off Brighton.
Sat . NE 10-15kn Sunny. Having spent most of the morning looking at
everything on the boat, emptying the nine buckets of water out of the bilge and
preparing the sails... we set off. Seemed to go well engine worked didn't crash
into any other boats. Crew consisted of Anna (from the Bigs), Jason (non sailor
with a rather large hangover) and Val. I have to confess it took us a bit of time
to hoist the main but after that I think you'd be impressed. Val seemed to
become a natural helm probably due the new HL jacket she insisted on
spending valuable boat maintenance money on.. but if that's the result it'll save
on an auto helm.
I have to say, I don't think I’ve been so happy for a long time. We had a
fantastic sail to no5 and back to Shoreham in no time would have taken us all
day in the Bigs. Its lovely being able to trim a main sail and noticing the
difference (still haven't quit got used to the size of the main though). The gusts
between the hills made her accelerate through the water we would have
rounded up in the Bigs. Proved a little difficult getting the main down but with a
bit of imagination soon sorted the problem. The majority of the weed fell away
from the bottom of her. Mooring went well but found it quit hard with the controls
we had a lot of spectators from the club. I was very relieved I didn't make a
mess of it! Managed to stop the engine after a little maintenance ;-)
Sailed on Sunday for most of the day with six crew of varying levels of
experience, went like clock work. I was however exhausted at the end of the

day. Its hard looking after that many people who don't know the ropes, soon
have them up to speed. We even got one of the many spinnakers up, Superb!
Summary; much much much better than a Bavaria or J-Boat!
Day 67 – Tuesday. I receive a call from the shippers to say that the computer
has arrived and they are delivering the Customs slip to us. The simplest way to
get goods through Customs is to use a Customs Agent. I am halfway to St.
John’s and well past the Customs Agent’s office when Lindsay rings to say the
slip has arrived. It’s easier to get her to deal with it than turn back although she
is too honest. If you import computers for personal purposes there is no duty
but if you import them for business you have to pay tax. Lindsay completes the
form saying we are importing it for business purposes.
Having finally completed the due diligence on the company and it’s time to pay
up. My purpose in going to St. John’s is to collect a banker’s draft. After having
sat in the bank for ten minutes waiting to be served I am told that Premier
Customers can go to one of the private offices and be served immediately. I
find it amazing that I have been in the bank quite a few times and they only now
tell me.
Back at the office there is a reply from the router company telling me they don’t
support MAC products. There is a label on the back of the router which has to
be pealed off before it can be used. I am reluctant to peel it off if I am going to
return it. Carefully peeling off the label I plug in the internet cables and it works.
Since Lindsay is using the computer I decide to go back to St. John’s to buy
some more cable and trunking to finally tidy up all the wires around the office. I
also want some plugs for the 220 volt system. The plugs prove a major
problem. Apparently, they are known as ‘Chinese’ plugs and I eventually find
them in a hardware store I have used on a number of occasions.
I have agreed to walk and feed the dogs on my way back from St. John’s. They
have been on their own almost all day and are in an extremely skittish mood
and very badly behaved. The weekend when Mike and Anne return can’t come
soon enough. Out walking I run into Sandy and, having telephoned him in the
morning to say I am not happy with the changes to the lease, we agree to meet
tomorrow with some of his workmen and prepare the house for the hurricane
which is supposed to be coming our way.
The Tot is at Calabash and we always like going there so we decide to join the
Tot tonight despite our resolution to stay away during the week.
Day 68 – Wednesday. As I had expected, all this talk of a hurricane has proved
a false alarm. Not only has it not developed from a tropical storm into a
hurricane it also isn’t coming our way but heading for Grenada instead. They
had a real battering last year so should be well prepared.

Having agreed to meet Sandy at ten I go into the office early to get a few things
sorted. I plug the computer into my newly fitted cables and the computer tells
me it can’t find a suitable connection and asks if I would like to connect
wirelessly instead. Naturally, I say yes and the connection is perfect making all
my nice wiring a complete waste of time.
Lindsay rings to say that since the ‘hurricane’ is not coming there isn’t quite the
urgency to get the house hurricane proofed so Sandy has put off the
arrangement until twelve which suit me as I can get on with other things. Later,
well before twelve, Lindsay rang to Sandy was home and I ought to come back
to catch him. I get back to the house and Sandy has gone. I wait until twelve
and still no sign of him so I ring him. He has had a puncture and, since the
‘hurricane’ is no longer coming, he doesn’t think it necessary to take
precautions. I am not amused having taken time out of the office to help him. I
tell Lindsay I will leave her in the office to use the computer and relax at home.
I look around for my book and can’t find it. Lindsay has started reading it and
taken it to the office with her. I introduce a new rule. She cannot start reading
any of my books until I have finished them and vice-versa.
Quite a bit of bad weather is coming through and I watch the squalls marching
across the bay wondering if there is a gap long enough for me to take the dogs
foe a walk. I manage to get only slightly wet.
Having been at home most of the day I want to get out and ring Lindsay to
agree that we should go to the Tot at Calabash. Whilst there another Lindsay is
trying to copy something from the internet onto a CD, unsuccessfully. In view of
my recent ‘wireless’ experience, I suggest I may be able to do it for her and get
the laptop from the car. Nothing is ever that simple. After ten or fifteen minutes
grappling with various bits of programme I discover I need a password to
connect. Seon, the barman, gives me one which fails to connect. I am
attempting to log onto the wrong server. Once this is sorted I download the
necessary documents and burn them onto a CD. Lindsay then asks me to
download some more documents. Unfortunately, the CD she has given me is
not re-writable and can be used once only. I download the extra documents
and promise to write them to a CD tomorrow.
We leave for home much later than intended but, as I point out to Lindsay
(mine) that it’s all a learning experience.
On the way home I buy some bottles of lemonade and coke and, as I get out of
the car, one of the bags breaks and two bottles roll under Lindsay’s car. One
has split itself on the sharp gravel and is hissing and fizzing. Lindsay thinks her
car has a puncture. I manage to save most of the lemonade by pouring it into
an empty water bottle but it has lost all its fizz.

Day 69 – Thursday. The tropical storm has turned into a hurricane but miles
away from us. Some fairly torrential rain associated the hurricane is lashing us
from time to time and there is a fair bit of flooding.
There is a message on the answerphone. My cigars have been dispatched and
should arrive in three to four days. I may just survive on my existing stock. A
call to the Customs brokers reveals no progress on the computer which needs
various different departments signatures before it can be released.
I have not been in the office long when Lindsay ‘phones. One of the dogs
escaped from the veranda and she thinks he may have jumped from first floor
level since he is looking a bit sheepish and may have hurt himself. I am a bit
concerned at how wet they are getting in these storms. The rain blows straight
onto the veranda and, although I put a large table on its side as some form of
protection, Lindsay tells me it offers practically no defence against the diving
rain.
I need a haircut so when I go out to get some cash I call at the local
hairdressers. It’s supposed to be open from ten until six. There is a note on the
door saying ‘back @ 1.20’. By 1.30 I am tempted to leave a note asking ‘Which
day?’ Instead I leave a message on their answerphone requesting a call when
they are open. The call comes at ten to two but they don’t have a hairdresser
on duty today. I make an appointment for tomorrow.
A meeting of the Antigua Marine Trades Association was planned for 4.30 this
afternoon but has been cancelled because of the weather. Apparently the
people living on the north of the island are reluctant to come out into the
‘country’. I can’t see their problem. I quite happily drove up to the north of the
island earlier.
Lindsay has complained she is cold. Admittedly, the air-conditioning is on and it
is cool. I don’t tell her that earlier I increased the temperature in the car as I
was driving to St. John’s.
Leaving the office I press the remote starter on my key fob and nothing
happens. I try several more times with no luck. Getting into the car I try the old
tried and tested method, the key with the same lack of success. I wonder if the
security system has locked out as it’s flashing and making a clicking noise. I
resort to the handbook but am no wiser. I telephone Lindsay but get no reply.
Several attempts later she answers and I ask her to bring down the jump leads.
Whilst waiting for her I realise what I have done. I still can’t get used to the fact
that my stalks are on the opposite side to U.K. cars. At some time, driving in
the rain, I must have inadvertently turned on the headlamps, left them on and
not noticed. Evidently, the battery has run flat.
Lindsay arrives. I am parked next to a large puddle and standing outside the
car. I have always thought women drivers are oblivious to road hazards.

Lindsay charges through the puddle and soaks me. To make matters worse,
the jump start makes no difference. From the office, I ring Frank who installed
the security/remote start device. He suggests I return to the car and call him
again. As I walk to the car I press the remote start and it works. Since it is ten
to six and we are only 100 yards from Life bar we join the Tot and I park
outside. I realise I have left my lighter in the car and go to get it. The remote
won’t work. I ring Frank again and he says he will come out. An hour later he
still has not appeared. I ring him again and he says he is just leaving. We
decide to eat at Life. Frank arrives at 7.30 with son and wife in tow. I will admit
to being quite impressed by his electrical skills but, unfortunately, water has got
into the remote’s ‘brain’. My fault. When I led the cable to the battery for my
car ‘phone I failed to put the grommet back in properly and Frank installed the
brain directly under the grommet. He manages to get the car going but takes
the ‘brain’ away to repair it. He says he will return it on Sunday.
Back home and Nuisance has been chewing one of my deck shoes for the
second time. He looks very guilty and crawls around on his belly. Sunday
cannot come soon enough when we will be rid of the dogs. One may ask why I
leave the shoes where he get at them. Since I need a pair of shoes to go into
the garden or turn on the generator I have been leaving a pair of deck shoes on
the veranda. They have been perfectly safe until a few days ago. I presumed it
was a one off occasion because the dogs had been left alone for a long time
and the damage was very minor. Obviously my strictures were insufficient.
Day 70 – Friday. An e-mail from Graeme tells me his book is published and
enquires whether I can find out if it’s in a bookshop in St. John’s. I reply that I
am going to town in the afternoon and will check. Graeme must be on-line
when I reply and we spend a little time catching up. He asks if I have a contact
address in the U.K. for Mike Rose who might be able to bring some books out
here. I give him what information I have.
An e-mail from Mike Relling suggests he is prepared to allow me to act as an
agent for Revolution Sails. We are just about to put the Marine Guide to bed so
I whip out an article and replace it with and advert plus set up an e-mail address
for Revolution Sails in Antigua.
I go to have my haircut and get a head and shoulder massage thrown in. I am a
bit horrified by the price. Next time I will forego the massage and see if it
reduces the cost.
An appointment with the solicitor and all the company documents are finally
signed over. The company actually becomes our on Monday. We also get
confirmation that we are, eventually, able to work. Although our passports are
not yet stamped we do have some documentation saying we are now legal. I
wonder whether it is sufficient to get a full driving licence. No doubt they will
want to see the stamp in the passports.

I check in the bookshop but no sign of Graeme’s book. The assistant checks on
the computer with the same result.
Amongst the post is a statement on my U.S. dollar account which I have been
waiting for since April together with a bill from BT for rent on a line I haven’t had
since February and a request from the Inland Revenue for PAYE details on an
employee I had back in the U.K.. They are going to be out of luck since all the
records are back in the U.K..
The Antigua Marine Trades Association have called an extraordinary general
meeting. It’s disorganised and chaotic and doesn’t go the way the Board wants
it to go. In fact, the outcome is a bit of a disaster. I end up volunteering to coordinate
the arrangements for the Trade Show stand in December.
The meeting is followed by a cocktail party at the yacht club. Antigua is hosting
an inter-island sailing championship and I am part of the Protest Committee. I
am probably one of the few people who would like to see some protests. At
least I will get something to do. As the party winds down it is suggested there
may be more ‘action’ at Temo Sports. It must be a quiet night because not
much is going on. We have one drink and go home.
Day 71 – Saturday. Apart from the dogs waking us up at 5.30 and wanting their
walk, we have a fairly lazy morning. Well, having gone back to bed after the
walk, we finally get up at 8.30. It seems a lot later. There are a few things I
want to do but only get around to them slowly. Lindsay goes off for a few hours
of sunshine on the beach.
We are due to join a group for lunch and a boules match at Galleon Beach. We
arrive at the appointed time and are the only one’s there. The rest drift in over
the next half hour and lunch starts at two. By the time we are finished it’s time
for me to leave to walk and feed the dogs before going to serve on the Protest
Committee. Sven is playing in the match but his wife, Julie, is going home and
invites Lindsay to go with her for a swim in their pool.
I am reasonably smartly dressed and don’t have time to change in order to walk
the dogs. I decide they are having a short one and I risk taking them out
without leads. It works reasonably well although I have to do a lot of yelling at
them to keep them walking alongside me. It’s just as well there are no
neighbours to disturb.
I go to the yacht club and await any protests. There appear to be three but all
are settled amicably with no hearing. I ring Lindsay to say I will pick her up but
she tells me that Julie has gone to collect Sven and left Lindsay in charge of the
house. I join her and Sven and Julie return about half an hour later. They insist
we stay for a drink which gets somewhat extended. They lend us an enormous
pile of books which should keep us going for several months.

We had intended to go to the yacht club for the party in the evening but
following lunch and a few drinks at Sven and Julie’s we go straight home where
I have to cook dinner as Lindsay says she is not hungry. Either she was right or
she doesn’t like my cooking because she only eats half of it.
Day 72 – Sunday. A start exactly similar to yesterday except that, for the first
time, Nuisance has disgraced himself on the veranda.
For a couple of weeks I have been planning to move the printer/scanner from
home to the office but I haven’t managed to get around to sorting out the
software. The printer in the office is a cheap one I bought when we arrived.
Having a bit of time to spare I get the laptop out of its bag and turn it on or, at
least, try to turn it on. Nothing happens. I try several more times with the same
result. I must have left it on and the battery has gone flat. I plug in the power
lead and it turns on but the battery is not charging. I wonder where the warranty
has gone although my chance of sorting something out from this distance is
minimal.
I load the software and test out all the functions. Since the laptop is only a few
months old as is the printer but my PC several years old, many more functions
appear on the screen including the option to link wirelessly to the printer.
Having tested everything I turn the laptop over to check out the battery. It’s not
there. It has fallen off in the bag.
Before leaving the U.K. I bought a number of new ink cartridges knowing they
are quite expensive here but I don’t know where they are packed. An hour or
so of fruitless searching produces nothing. Whilst I am looking my ‘phone rings
and Lindsay answers it. It’s Sven. They had sixteen people coming for lunch
but two have cried off. He wonders whether Lindsay and I would like to join
them. Lindsay explains that I am involved in the Protest Committee so Sven
suggests she comes alone. Lindsay is not too sure about going alone so I ring
Sven back and say I can join them as soon as the protests, if any, are over.
We arrive at the yacht club and there is no news on the protests so I take
Lindsay to Sven and Julie’s promising to return as soon as I can. Back at the
yacht club I realise I have left all my money at home and have to beg EC$100
from Sandy There is one protest and three applications for redress. The
applications for redress are fairly straight forward. Two should be granted and
one denied. The protest is a bit more complicated but, in my opinion, the
protest should fail. The Chairman of the Committee is a non-sailor and I am
immediately given the impression this is going to be long process. Apart from
not being happy with the Chairman, the Committee comprises five people and
should only comprise three. I offer to stand down. It is suggested that as the
only non-Antiguan on the committee it might be preferable if I stay but no-one
else is prepared to stand down so I leave. I don’t know the outcome of the
protest/requests for redress but I understand Antigua wins the day on count
back.

I arrive at Sven and Julie’s before anyone has sat down to lunch. We are all
split up so that most people are with others they don’t know. In my case, I am
next to the British high Commissioner on one side, a Lancastrian opposite and
an Australian on the other side. I get on quite well with the Lancastrian and
Australian but the quality of the British Diplomatic Service has obviously
declined since I used to live in the colonies. My dealings with the Assistant
High Commissioner in March had been a revelation, detrimentally so, and the
High Commissioner, who I had met once before a few years ago, did not now
imbue me with confidence. The lunch went quite well and I did get to talk to a
few new people a few of whom I wouldn’t mind meeting again.
On the way home we run into Sandy and stop to have a chat about the protests.
Only in Antigua do cars stop in the middle of the road and their occupants talk
to each other. We eventually move when an Antiguan couple we met at the
party pulls up behind Sandy. They stop and have a few words. I think I like
them more than anyone else we met, particularly her who seems quiet and
unassuming but with character.
Lindsay doesn’t want to go down to the Tot. I am keen because Anne and Mike
should have returned and might be persuaded to collect the dogs. It was a
waste of time. They are not returning until tomorrow.
Day 73 – Monday. My first tasks are to deal with the irrelevant letters I received
from the U.K., mainly to the Inland Revenue and to BT who are trying to bill for
standing charges for a period from 1 st June to 31 st August. Not only is there a
bill but a reminder as well. I point out that I ceased to use that line on 23 rd
February and left the country on 7 th May so could hardly, now, be liable for
advance charges. I have no doubt the bill will go into the hands of their debt
collection agency. All I can say is ‘good luck’.
An e-mail from Rob and Amanda informs us that they have now arrived in
Gibraltar. At one of the ports along the Portuguese coast, they ran into a couple
on another boat. When it transpired they came from Brighton, they were asked
whether they knew a John Duffy who owned a boat call Jagga. Rob and
Amanda said they knew me very well. It turned out that one half of the couple,
Anthony, had sailed on Jagga across the Atlantic in the ARC. I had met him
several times before the boat left the U.K.. Rob and Amanda had been part of
the delivery crew which took Jagga from Plymouth to Lisbon. Although they
had all been part of the various crew which had taken Jagga to Antigua in 2004,
they had never met before. They were quite close to the port where I had run
into a past crew member of mine in October 2004. Maybe that corner of
Portugal is where everyone takes a bit of a break before heading south.
The Customs Agent rings and wants EC$422 to clear our computer. I say I will
drop it in. Unfortunately, we still won’t get it until tomorrow which probably
means Wednesday.

Frank hasn’t rung me about my remote starting system so I ring him and he
says he will ring me back before the end of the day. He doesn’t.
On my way to the Customs Agent I call in at the premises of Tim Wall, the
owner of the land near us. His business is importing, grinding and selling
coffee. The grinding machine is running and there is no one in Reception. I
bang the bell a few times but, not unsurprisingly since I can’t hear the bell
above the noise of the grinder, I get no response so I pick up a card with a
telephone number and go to the car to ring. The receptionist greets me at the
desk. Unfortunately, Tim has no news on the land and suggests I contact him
on Thursday after he has had a chance to speak to his lawyer.
On my way back I go to Slipway to get some petrol and find it closed, again.
Some poor woman has arrived without sufficient petrol to leave and is waiting,
with three young children, until it opens. Fortunately, I don’t have that problem
and can return later.
Earlier Lindsay had gone to the Post Office to send some letters. The cashier
has gone to the Customs Office and, therefore, stamps can’t be purchased. I
suspect it will take some time before she gets away from Customs. When I go
to get sandwiches for lunch I try the Post Office again. Still no cashier. Two of
the letters I can hand deliver, being near the sandwich shop. It is not until I am
on my way back to the office I realize I have left the remaining letters at one of
the hand delivery drop-off and have to go back.
No news of Mike and Anne so, as I am still working in the office as it
approaches six, Lindsay joins me and we go to the Tot to see if they will turn up
there and can collect their dogs. We learn that their ‘plane isn’t landing until
8.30 this evening.
Day 74 – Tuesday. A day to remember or maybe one to forget. I start the
generator around half six and about fifteen minutes later Lindsay calls to me to
tell me smoke is coming from the store room where the generator is housed. I
rush out and hear the engine becoming a bit laboured. I just succeed in cutting
it off before the engine has seized. The floor is covered in oil. The generator
has emptied the whole contents of its sump over the floor. On arriving in the
office, I ring the vendor of the generator and explain the problem. He suggests I
may have overfilled the sump. I explain I check the oil every time I fill the tank
with diesel and I know I haven’t topped up the oil for about ten days, therefore, I
think this somewhat unlikely.
Alexis arrives at the office about the same time as me and we are doing some
work when the power goes off. Our landlord, Ray, appears and says that they
have turned off the electricity to do some alterations. About ten minutes later,
the power comes back on but the fan, which we have on at the lowest speed to
stir around the air condition atmosphere, suddenly starts whirring around at high
speed. I turn the fan off and then we notice that everything on the 110 volt

circuit is flicking on and off. I go to report it to Ray and, fortunately, Ray’s wife is
having the same problem. Ray’s electrician sorts it out but there must have
been a power surge because our nice new, wireless internet connection has
been ‘fried’. Ray’s electrician checks the transformer and declares it dead. I
am going to St. John’s so I volunteer to buy another one. Fortunately, Ray
insists on doing it himself which is just as well since the whole unit need
renewing.
My first call is at the airport so I take the slightly longer route which takes me
past the Department of Transport’s office where I call in to see, now having
documents saying we can work, if I can get a permanent driving licence. The
first thing I notice is a sign telling me no new licences will be issued until 8 th
August to prevent new drivers being on the road during carnival. I presume this
applies to drivers just passing their tests. I ask for the forms and am told I need
a passport sized photo. I am puzzled since they take your photo at the
Department of Transport offices for the licence. Apparently, you need one for
the file which you have to supply and they take the other one for the licence. I
collect the forms and notice that there is nothing on them which says you need
a Work Permit.
My call at the airport is a waste of time and I leave after waiting twenty minutes
(in a no parking zone) without seeing the person I intended despite being told
every few minutes that she is coming. Moving on to the Post Office I collect
some letters and a card telling me there is a package waiting for us but it’s at
the main Post Office in the centre of St. John’s.
Whilst I am driving into town Frank calls me and says he has the bits for my car.
I agree to meet him in a car park so he can install a new ‘brain’. I have done a
deal with him since he thinks it was partly his fault and partly mine and he
agrees to get the old one working to fit into Lindsay’s car. The car park
attendant offers to wash my car which hasn’t been done for some weeks. I
agree and wander off to do a few things which includes going to the Post Office.
It’s ten to twelve and the person responsible for packages has gone to lunch
and won’t be back until after one. I forget to buy the ink cartridges for the
printer. As I arrive back at the car park the attendant is just finishing cleaning
the car and it starts to rain.
Not having heard from the generator company I call into their workshop and I
am told the owner is at lunch and won’t be back until after one. It’s now twelve
fifteen. I might as well go to lunch myself and start making my way across town
when the ‘phone rings. It’s Lindsay. The computer is at the Customs Broker
and a docket has arrived from DHL to say my cigars are in. I tell her I will come
back to the office and collect the computer on my way then return to St. John’s
to see the generator supplier, collect my cigars, pick up the package from the
post office and get the ink cartridges.

Before leaving I set up the new computer which takes a bit of time and, knowing
Customs closes early, I head there first. Everything starts relatively smoothly
until they see the amount of cigars I have imported. They think I am intending
to retail them. The listed duty for imported cigars is horrendous but I explain
that they are for my own use and they can see what I paid for them in the U.K..
The duty drops substantially but I still have to go around various people to get
signatures then pay the duty. Three different people have to check and sign the
documents before I can pay the duty. There is a notice on the cashier’s window
saying ‘No personal cheques’. I don’t have enough cash on me for the duty and
rush off to the airport, nearby, to use a cash machine, parking illegally again.
Both cash machines are out of order although one doesn’t tell me until I have
gone all the way through the procedure of asking for cash. The nearest bank is
about two miles away and every driver is on a go-slow. I overtake more cars in
ten minutes than I have done in two months and make it back to Customs with a
minute to spare. I determine that in future I will do my own Customs clearance
since it has taken me an hour and a half to do what the Customs Agent took
four days to do.
At some stage I get a call from Mike to say that Anne will pick up the dogs. I
suggest he rings Lindsay at the office. The arrangement is that Anne will call at
the office and drive home with Lindsay. A few hours later, Lindsay rings saying
there is no sign of Anne. I ring Mike who is puzzled. Anne has left her mobile
‘phone at home. Shortly after, she arrives back at her home and I tell her
Lindsay has gone to our home. Anne tells me later that she is quite surprised to
find the dogs sitting and waiting for their dinner. I suggest she continues with
the training routine.
On my way back to the generator supplier and despite being well behind
schedule, I call into a couple of shops to buy ink cartridges (the first didn’t have
the right ones) but forget the package at the Post Office. I would probably been
too late anyway as, I imagine, the person dealing with parcels would have gone
home to dinner.
I get to the generator supplier to meet a friend unloading exactly the same make
from the back of a truck. He bought it yesterday and it has packed up already.
In a way I am quite glad. It strengthens my case. They want me to bring the
generator back but I point out that it takes four to lift it. They give me three
young lads to come with me to collect it. They examine the machine and
discover the oil drain plug has vibrated loose. Since I have never touched the
plug I suggest it is hardly my fault. We return it to the workshop and they will
have it overhauled in the morning.
A sudden shriek from the kitchen. A mouse is investigating the waste bin.
Since we leave doors open I suppose it’s not surprising one has ventured from
outside. It must be a well informed mouse which realized the dogs had gone
home. I go to get a torch to look under the cabinets and Lindsay thinks I am

fetching insect spray. Despite being scared of mice she doesn’t want me to do
it any harm as it is rather ‘sweet’. Maybe, one day, I will understand women.
Day 75 – Wednesday. We have been very careful with electricity in order to
preserve enough power to have showers in the morning. Fortunately, it has
been a cool night so we made do without the fan. I don’t even charge up my
tooth brush and we turn the ‘fridge off when we get up. Our economies have
proved successful and we have power.
My first day with the new computer. Why do they always have to change
things? No sooner have you become used to one system than they update
things on the next generation of computer. Most of the time they are not
improvements, just changes and one has to learn the systems all over again. I
have a few moans and Alexis offers to buy it from me if I’m not happy. No
doubt I will get used to it in a few days. The only good side is that it has 150
gigs of memory.
By the afternoon I have to go and get our generator or we won’t have any
electricity. I decide to try my luck at the Post Office. There is no queue and I
am served immediately. The Customs Officer make you come to the other side
of the counter and open the package with a Stanley knife. In the package are
some letters are two scart leads which cost me about £20. I can’t believe it
when the Customs Officer looks up ‘scart leads’ in her book and charges me
EC$40, about £8, duty.
I call at the generator supplier and they load they machine into the car. I have
been a bit more careful and placed a piece of plywood in the back of the car.
Yesterday, one of the wheels of the generator punched a hole through the
fibreglass lid which covers a hidden compartment under the rear load area. I
ask what they have done to the generator and they say they didn’t have time to
check out why it isn’t starting on it’s own battery but they have replaced the
battery and fixed the oil leak. They found several more things loose and the
same problem on some other machines. The owner starts the engine to prove
it is running properly. Before collecting the machine I ring Sandy whose men are
supposed to be erecting hurricane shutters at our house. Sandy is on the golf
course and says the men should be there. I think I interrupted his shot.
When I get back to the house the three windows downstairs have been
shuttered which will protect our stored furniture but there is no sign of the men
and the garden, which they are supposed to have been working on as well, is
untouched. Sandy had said that if the men were not at our house they would be
at his. They are at neither. I walk to where a house is being built down the road
and persuade four men to come and give me a hand. It costs me EC$50.
Once the generator is installed I start it up. After a few seconds, it stalls. I try it
several more times with the same result. This is exactly the same problem my
friend had with his machine. I can see that a cable is automatically pulling the

throttle closed and presume that it is linked to some centrifugal system which
prevents the engine from over-revving and it is cutting it too early. I give up
and, as I drive back to the office, I ring the generator shop and explain the
problem. The owner thinks I am beside the machine and tries to describe what
I should do. Fortunately, I had already thought of disconnecting the cable and
know exactly what he is talking about. Rather than being the automatic throttle
adjustment, it is the cable which is supposed to turn of the engine when the
ignition is turned off. I had read that somewhere in the handbook but since it
had never worked I had forgotten about it.
On arriving back home I disconnect the cable and the generator runs okay
except the low oil warning light won’t go out. I check the oil level and it’s three
quarters full. I decide to run it regardless and if it packs up I will demand a new
machine. When I bought it I thought it was exceptionally good value for money
and I now know why. You only ever get what you pay for. I am now beginning
to wonder whether the generator was made in North Korea rather than Japan.
Sometime I think Lindsay is a secret blonde. She asks why we have more full
moons here than in England. I point out that we have exactly the same number,
thirteen. It is only that the skies are clearer here.
I always knew washing up was a dangerous profession which is why I have
spent my life trying to avoid it. I pick up the sponge/scourer and it bites me. At
least that’s what I think but it’s a hornet resting on the sponge which has stung
me in that soft spot between the fourth and little fingers of my right hand. It’s
rather painful and makes my hand feel as though some crazed acupuncturist is
sticking dozens of needles into me. The hornet is somewhat worse off. It won’t
be stinging anyone else.
Day 76 – Thursday. My hand feels as though someone heavy wearing
hobnailed boots has trodden on it but otherwise there are no ill effects.
The electricity has run out overnight probably due to the fact that I was a little
cautious running the generator last night. The caution was really all on
Lindsay’s side who seemed to be worried it might blow up. Despite reassuring
her that it was impossible I did finally acquiesce and shut it down. I start it this
with no apparent problem and it seems to run okay despite the warning light. I
discover there is some kind of link between the cable I have disconnected and
the light so, unless I reconnect the cable, the light won’t go out. I’ll have to keep
my fingers crossed and check the oil very regularly.
Since we have now completed the transfer of the business we need to change
the bank account into our names. I suspect we will need our passports and ring
Lindsay but only get her voice mail. I leave her a message asking her to bring
the passports into the office. She arrives without the passports. Her ‘phone
has run out of credit and, although she realizes she has a message, she can’t
access it.

My new computer suddenly tells me it is ‘talking’ to my laptop. It has linked
itself, wirelessly, to the laptop. That sends Alexis and me into a frenzy of
activity trying to set up a network between the three computers so we can
transfer data amongst ourselves. I am not sure which of the machines or
humans is being too stupid or too clever. My new computer can talk to the
laptop and vice-versa. Alexis’s computer can talk to the laptop but not the other
way around and neither Alexis’s computer nor mine will talk to each other.
Rather than waste any more time trying to sort it out and since we can both
access the laptop, we devise a system where we use the laptop as a dumping
ground which is fine but, as it has the smallest memory, we have to keep
clearing stuff off the disk.
We have a very late advertiser and the copy she has brought in is very poor
quality so I decide to design one for her. I have just completed it when the
power cuts off. Not normally a problem except that my new computer is not
battery driven and I lose everything. When the power has not come back on
after three quarters of an hour, I go off in search of Tim Wall to ask how his sale
of his building plots is progressing. Hopefully not. He has no news.
On my way back to the office I call at the house to collect the passports. It
occurs to me that Lindsay will have hidden them somewhere so I ring the office
to ask. The power is still off so the ‘phones aren’t working. I can’t get Lindsay
on her mobile as she is out of credit so I ring Alexis on his mobile but he has left
the office for lunch. I start searching the house without much luck. Maybe the
power is back on at the office and I can speak to Lindsay. Unfortunately, I can’t
get a signal on my ‘phone. The only option is to drive until I pick up a signal.
Not wishing to resort to this I have one final search. Lindsay has hidden the
passports in a drawer in the bathroom under a basket of her make-up bits and
pieces.
We walk down to the bank and after signing about twenty different forms they
tell us we can’t have the account transferred to us without a bank reference. I
have one from Barclays but they want one on Lindsay as well. I ring First
Caribbean Bank and they promise a reference by twelve tomorrow. I am not
sure how much use it will be as we have only been customers for a few months.
Calabash is having a grand opening party for it’s new outside dining and bar
area and we are invited. Drinks are free, supplied by Mountgay Rum and Best
Cellars but are limited to Mountgay Extra Old rum which tastes like bourbon and
is disgusting. The alternative is rose wine. After one glass of the Mountgay I
resort to the wine.
We get into conversation with a French lady who is responsible for the importing
of wines and beers for Best Cellars, I make the mistake of thinking she is
married to the Frenchman I had spoken to a few weeks ago. I talk to her about
importing decent English beer rather than Guinness, Worthington and John

Smiths, She tells me that Guinness is very popular with the locals who think it
has aphrodisiac properties. I suggest that can hardly be true of John Smiths
and Worthington. We agree to talk later about the possibilities of importing
something decent.
Day 77 – Friday. Lindsay has started gardening at about seven in the morning.
I think she has a major task on her hands. There must be about a million
weeds in the garden and she is digging each one out individually, the lazy way
or, perhaps I should say, the laid back way. She is sitting on an upturned waste
bin to avoid bending over.
Alexis was supposed to have two weeks off to take his boat to Carriacou for a
regatta but the threat of bad weather is preventing him from going. Having
proposed to prepare the boat today for the trip he has still taken the day off
which is probably just as well since we have been without power for a couple of
hours. The other day, in a speech, someone referred to Antigua as a third
world country. I found that a bit surprising, however, at times like these I am
inclined to agree.
The power has not come on by the time Lindsay arrives and I need to go to St.
John’s to collect the reference letters from the bank. I leave Lindsay unable to
do anything but she has brought her book.
The letters are ready at the bank when I arrive and I move on to our post box
where there is a letter from a firm of U.K. solicitors threatening to sue me for an
unpaid telephone bill which, I think, I have already paid on-line. All there threats
do is irritate me. It is evidently a ‘toothless’ threat since they cannot serve
proceedings on me in Antigua because they have to be served through a U.K.
County Court which can’t be done abroad. Perhaps I would have been less
irritated if they had the courtesy to put a telephone number on the letter. As it is
they will have to await a letter by pigeon post. I tried ringing BT but after
choosing innumerable options I was told that the staff leave at eight in the
evening and it is now, U.K. time, 8.30.
We feel it is time to insure the office contents and have made a list of everything
appropriate which I am taking to the insurance company buying, on the way a
UPS to guarantee us electricity during power failures. It takes over an hour for
the insurance company to list all our items and prepare the documents which
their computer then won’t print. I leave with a hand written receipt. Since I am
in town, Lindsay has given me a list of food purchases with the instruction to
add anything else I like. She prefers me to do the shopping since I always
come back with more than she would buy.
The power come back on at the office about half an hour before I return and I
set up the UPS running a long cable thought the trunking to serve both sides of
the room. It is only after I have installed the cable that I discover it has to be
routed the opposite way around. The day is nearly over and I have done

practically no work. A late e-mail relating to one of our advertisements gives me
an opportunity to do something but Lindsay is pressuring me to leave so I give
up with the work half done.
For no really good reason I prepare dinner and run the generator whilst it is
cooking. After about three quarters of an hour the generator stops dead. I go
and check it and I am reasonably sure the connecting rod from the crankshaft to
the piston is broken. I had been rather unsure about how reliable it would be
after the oil ran out and, in a way, I am glad it has broken totally. At least now
we can get a replacement or our money back.
Day 78 – Saturday. Lindsay decides to go for a run which lasts about ten
minutes. After her gardening exploits her legs won’t work. She retires back to
bed.
I ring the generator company and the owner explains that he has no one on
duty to unload it from the car. Equally, there is only Lindsay and me to load it
in. He asks if I can bring it in on Monday. He has ordered two new engines in
from Miami and says he will lend us an alternative until ours is repaired. I think
there may be some negotiating to be done on Monday.
I have to think of a way to get the generator into the back of the car since the
men aren’t working on the nearby site over the weekend. The ground slopes
away from the house and I work out that if I can drag the generator up the slope
and around some steps I can reverse the car up to the steps and form a ramp to
roll it into the back of the car. I cut two sturdy planks to the right length and
although I am tempted to try it out straight away in case it doesn’t work and I
need to organize help, there is little point in driving around all weekend with a
generator in the back. The alternative would be to do it then drive around in the
‘Tonka Toy’ and I’m not sure I am quite ready for that.
For some time I have wanted some new trousers. Rather foolishly, I allowed
Lindsay to persuade met to throw away most of my long trousers before I left
the U.K.. I have never been a fan of shorts and, despite my best efforts, she
would not believe I would not be wearing shorts in Antigua. Eventually, she has
accepted the fact that I only very rarely wear shorts so we are going on a
shopping expedition. Lindsay starts a list which has on it trousers, a video
machine and sun loungers. I suggest we add an iron and photos for our driving
licences. My suggestions are accomplished quite easily but then we get on to
the trousers. Lindsay has been in the habit of buying me clothes and, although
I suspect she has never noticed, I don’t wear half of them and took the
opportunity when we left the U.K., to throw that half away unworn. Trying to buy
clothes with Lindsay in tow is a nightmare. At one stage I point out it is me who
is buying them and it is me who will be wearing them. I end up with three pairs
of trousers but not without drama. There seems to be a two inch size difference
between varying clothes manufacturers and I try some on. The only problem is
the changing room is communal and there is a queue. I come out of one shop

with two pairs of trousers. Lindsay refuses to allow me to go into several other
shops, by now we have drifted into the market area, saying I will look like a
local. Although I don’t voice it, I cannot see the problem. At the final shop,
which is well tucked away, I exclaim at the prices. The assistant immediately
reduces the price by 20% but is overridden by the manager who reduces the
price by a further 10%. The cost is still double the previous shop but at EC$90
(£18) for a rather nice pair of trousers I shouldn’t really complain.
We head out of town for some lunch and the shop where we can buy the video.
Lindsay’s choice of lunch is better than mine and I leave half of what I have
ordered but, fortunately, Lindsay’s is too large so I help her finish it. Despite
telling me they had video machines which would play both U.K. and U.S. videos
when we come to purchase one, they don’t. We are recommended to a shop in
town but as the barriers have been put up for the start of ‘carnival’ we decide
against the effort of negotiating the traffic and go instead to the shop where
Lindsay has seen sun-loungers. Fortunately, it is shut. In addition to sunloungers,
Lindsay wants to buy a hammock. I cannot see the value in any of
these items.
Back home the insect killer canisters have done their job but we have to leave
everything open for half an hour before we are allowed to enter. We take the
time to wander around to the plots in which we are interested. The owner has
built a wooden tower in the middle of the land which gives an idea of the views
from the living room of a house. The tower is a hundred feet from the road and
no-one has been there for several years. Minus machete I carve a trail through
the jungle to the tower. The views are perfect. On our way back we run into the
owner of the land and reinforce our interest.
On the subject of machetes, Lindsay has commented that in the U.K. anyone
running around with a two foot blade would be immediately arrested yet half the
population seems to have one in hand. Another thing half the population do is
expect you to give them a lift if you are going in their direction. The other day
one of these itinerant climbed into my car, machete in hand, and I will admit to
feeling slightly intimidated.
The insect killer canisters have done their job but Lindsay is somewhat
disappointed. There is one dead cockroach and six dead hornets. It seems a
bit perverse to me. She should be pleased that we are relatively insect free.
At nine o’clock, having had no generator all day, the power fails.
Day 79 – Sunday. Time to erect the ramp properly but I can’t find any nails.
Sandy’s workmen have been a bit careless and there are a number lying
around the garden. With the two bits of timber I have cut to length yesterday
and three more, shorter pieces, I construct some thing that looks a bit like a
ladder. In order to get the angles and proportions right I need to drag the
generator to the top of the slope. Not an easy job across the gravely soil in the

garden. I am about halfway up the slope when Lindsay observes what I an
doing and tells me to wait until she can help. I am not sure what delays women
so long when they offer to help but, ten minutes later, she arrives. It is still a
struggle to get the generator up the last two foot of the slope.
Lindsay goes off for a couple of hours on the beach and we agree to meet later
at the yacht club for a drink. I do something I should have done a few weeks
ago, overhaul the Tot Club’s chain saw. It requires a little modification to stop
the chain falling off but, when finished, it seems to work okay.
I am in the shower when my ‘phone rings. It’s on the veranda where it receives
the best signal. Somewhat inadequately covered I rush out leaving wet
footprints everywhere. It’s Lindsay wanting to know where I am. We have our
timing slightly mixed up. On my way I pick up another hitchhiker. He tells me he
is a mortician. I am glad to see he is not carrying a machete.
I arrive at the yacht club before Lindsay to find it closed. We agree to go to
Calabash for a drink and Lindsay wants a rose wine. I think I will join her and
order a bottle. Drifting food smells cause Lindsay to suggest we stay for lunch
which becomes a bit extended.
Neither of us is in particularly good shape and we still have to load the
generator. Lindsay was ahead of me as we drove back and when I arrive I see
she is on the ‘phone. I manoeuvre the car in front of the ramp but need Lindsay
to hold it up while I reverse the car. Still chatting, she does so. Having
positioned the car I begin to push the generator up the ramp. Lindsay yells at
me to wait until she can give me a hand. Based on previous experience, I
ignore her. The generator is safely installed in the back of the car and Lindsay
is still chatting on the ‘phone.
After a few minutes of trying to dig out some weeds Lindsay disappears. Next
time I see her she is fast asleep on the bed. Guess who’s cooking dinner
In order to save electricity I have been turning off the ‘fridge. Today is semiovercast
and I suspect the batteries will not have charged up very well.
Day 80 – Monday. The power has gone off during the night and I plan to leave
early with the generator and, not only has the sun not been up very long but it is
rather overcast. I wonder whether there is enough power for me to have a
shower. There is, just. Lindsay waits a while for the batteries to regenerate
themselves before having a go. I can’t leave until she has finished in case the
power trips out while she is covered in soap.
Without thinking, Lindsay has put some bread in the toaster. Heating elements
use more electricity than anything and the power trips out. I reset it and finish
the toast the old fashioned way by holding it on a fork over the gas cooker.

When I get to the generator shop they give me a replacement unit and say they
are going to put a new engine in ours. The owner suggests I ring back in two
weeks. He obviously doesn’t have a sense of humour when I ask if the
replacement will last that long.
We have decided to have some shelves put up in the office and Howard, a local
handyman, is going to do them for us. He tells me we need two sheets of
5/8ths cedar ply. It seems an awful lot to me but he assures me one won’t be
enough. On my way back from St. John’s I stop and buy the plywood and place
the two sheets on the roof. Fortunately, the car has a built-in roof rack but the
string is in the boot and the totally superfluous spoiler is under the plywood and
prevents me from opening the tailgate. I crawl in through a back door and past
the generator to reach the string only then remembering that the window in the
tailgate opens from a little switch in the driver’s door.
I drop the plywood off at the office and collect Lindsay to help me unload the
generator which is a much easier job than it was loading. I get the generator
running and notice it is a lot quieter and smoother than the previous one.
Maybe it will last two weeks. Lindsay comments that it is just as well I didn’t
bring the Jag out here since I would never have been able to do all the things I
do with this car. She’s right but I am sure I would have found a way around it.
Frank telephones and says he has the spare remote starter up and running
which can be used in Lindsay’s car. Lindsay is not so keen. I think she feels
it’s a bit flash but I can’t turn Frank down since he believes he’s doing me a
favour. He’s coming on Wednesday.
Howard has built the shelves by late afternoon and is applying the first coat of
varnish. His estimate of how much wood he needed is fairly accurate. He is left
with a piece about two foot long and three inches wide. He hopes to install
them in the office tomorrow.
Lindsay has found a good reason to go to the Tot. To get me out of the office.
At about half five she starts suggesting we pack up. By ten to six she has
closed the shutters and is turning everything off. Monday’s are days Geoff
Pidduck comes to the Tot but he has been coming on other days as well and I
think I know the reason why. He fancies Lindsay. Tonight he asks her when
our ‘romance’ is going to end. She says when I am dead, meaning me. I am
not too sure how to take that answer. Despite Lindsay being twenty years
younger I have the expectation of outliving her.
These hornets are becoming a blasted nuisance. Arriving back in the dark and,
as usual, kicking my shoes off in the porch, I walk across the living room to
open the veranda door. On my way I step on a hornet which stings the
underside of my foot. I leap around in agony and, when I explain the problem,
Lindsay just laughs.

I suspect I will carry one word with me to my grave and it will be ‘generator’.
After about three quarters of an hour of running it begins to sound a bit rough so
I turn it off. It is so hot I suspect the fuel has been vapourising. There is not
much I can do in the dark and with everything so hot. It will have to be dealt
with in the morning.
Day 81 – Tuesday. The power goes off at about 6.30 which prompts me to
make some adjustments to the generator. I feel that if I slow the running speed
it will not get so hot. The adjustment screw is at maximum and I am required to
strip out the mechanism in order to move it forward. After about half a dozen
attempts, I get it to a position where the engine is running more slowly and I still
have some adjustment, both ways. Before I leave, Lindsay makes me turn it
off. I think she doesn’t trust what I have done.
Maybe Lindsay was right, when she arrives at the office, Lindsay tells me she
ran out of power about ten minutes after I left so perhaps I set the speed too
low.
At about eight thirty I receive a telephone call from someone in St. John’s who
wants to meet me. The only problem is they are leaving their hotel at nine to
catch a flight. I suggest it will simpler to meet at the airport. Since we had been
planning to see if we could obtain a driving licences today Lindsay decides to
come with me. The Department of Transport’s offices are near the airport. We
waste half an hour at the airport and the person never turns up.
A call at the bank to pay the credit card bill which still has not arrived. The
statement shows the our insurance company has debited us twice for our
contents insurance. Lindsay is reluctant to drive into town to sort it out. A
telephone call to the insurance company reveals that we have been debited
only once yet a similar call to the credit card company reveals we have been
debited twice. I don’t care who is right so long as I don’t have to pay twice.
We have much more success with our licences. The whole process only takes
three quarters of an hour and, much to our surprise, despite only having one
year work permits, they give us three year licences. The licences are laminated
cards containing a photograph, thumb print and signature. The whole thing is
done while you wait and is certainly the most efficient process I have come
across since we have been here.
Howard has been held up. We won’t now get our shelves until Thursday but I
suppose that’s quick by anyone’s standards let alone Antigua’s.
Day 82 - Wednesday. The generator is beginning to bore me so I won't bore
you any further with it's machinations suffice to say, it is taking up too much of
my time.

The water wars are hotting up. In the old Westerns, cowboys used to fight over
each other to get water. Here they 'fight' each other to keep it away. When we
had that downpour a few weeks ago and Lindsay and I diverted the 'river' into
the next door neighbour's land he retaliated by dumping a large pile of earth in
the way of the water which diverted even more of it into our garden. Sandy has
taken the battle one stage further and built a low wall down the length of the
garden to divert all the water back to the land next door. At the moment Sandy
seems to have the upper hand but he is away for a month so it will be
interesting to see if there’s any retaliation in his absence.
Frank arrives to install the remote starter in Lindsay’s car. He says it will take
about an hour. Three hours later he still hasn’t finished. Whilst Lindsay is
away, on foot, getting some sandwiches for lunch Frank eventually completes
the job. I go and test the system and Frank explains to me that because
Lindsay’s car doesn’t have an immobiliser he has had to be a bit ingenious with
the wiring. The net effect is that when you use the remote locking system the
horn beeps twice. I can’t see this as a problem but decide to have a little fun. I
can see the car from the office and the range of the remote is about 100 yards.
I wait until I can see Lindsay walking past the car and press the unlock. The
horn beeps twice. Lindsay looks around, a little puzzled, seemingly expecting a
car to pass her from behind. I press the lock button and the horn beeps twice
more. A look of realisation spreads over Lindsay’s face and I am not her most
popular person when she arrives back at the office.
For several days I have been struggling with placing PDF files into Quark
documents. They keep coming out too big. Today I solved the problem and
like all problems, once you know the solution, it is so simple but, at least no-one
else knew how to do it so there was some satisfaction in working it out.
A member of the Antigua Marine Trades Association come to see me as I have
volunteered to help with the organisation of the Trade Show in December. I
appears that he wants me to take on the role of Co-ordinator which is much
more than I wanted to do plus, never having been here for a Trade Show, I
haven’t a clue what is involved. I agree to form part of a committee of three to
handle the organisation.
On my way home this afternoon (to run the generator for a while before going
out in the evening) I came across an horrific accident. A lot of the locals ride
around in the open backs of pickup trucks. One had turned over completely
with five people in the back and two in the cab. I haven't heard the death toll
but since they were, apparently, doing about 60 I suspect it will be high.
We have been invited out to dinner with Mike and Anne as a ‘thank you’ for
looking after their dogs. Since the Tot is at Calabash, we presume it might be
there. By about eight we are beginning to wonder whether we have the right
night but Mike suddenly suggests we sit down. Having been in the bar for a
couple of hours, two bottles of wine and a port meant that Lindsay’s not driving

her car home. I’m not sure that I am that capable but at least, at that time of
night, the roads are pretty clear.
Day 83 – Thursday. It’s not quite a hangover but I do feel a bit rough. Lindsay
decides she is going to run to her car rather than take a lift. Later, she tells me
that it’s seven kilometres (4½ miles in real measurement) but she left it a bit late
and it was rather hot. When she arrives at her car Mike asks for a jump start.
He blames Pam for having left the lights on. The car still won’t start so,
evidently, the problem is more fundamental.
The post arrives at the office and there is a card telling me Graeme’s book has
turned up. By about half eleven I am beginning to see double on the computer
and need a break. We have been invited to lunch at Tony and Moya’s and I
have agreed to pick up Terry and Connie at quarter to one. There is just
enough time for me to dash into the Post Office in St. John’s to pick up the
book.
I didn’t take into account that one of the roads in St. John’s is closed and the
whole town is gridlocked. I shouldn’t be surprised at what happens here but,
sometimes, it’s unavoidable. The road is closed because a shop is having
some repairs to it’s exterior and the contractor’s lorry is parked in the road. The
contractor has put a couple of planks on barrels at each end of the road closing
it off. There is obviously nothing official about the road closure but everybody,
police included, just accept it.
By half twelve I know I am not going to get back in time to pick up Terry and
Connie and ring Lindsay to ask her to collect them. Eventually, I manage to
park close to the Post Office but find the desk dealing with parcels is closed and
won’t open until quarter past one. I can’t wait but on my way back to the car I
pass a shop where I have heard they sell small racquets which look like tennis
racquets and are electrically charged. They are great for killing flying insects.
Buy two which are tested before being given to me. Unfortunately, the girl on
the cash desk picks one up by the ‘strings’ and receives a zap of electricity. At
Tony and Moya’s they are a great hit, killing flies with great abandon.
I have to leave lunch by two fifteen to meet again with the Marine Trades
Association to sort out the planning and organisation of the show. They still
keep trying to get me to accept the position of Co-ordinator. Yesterday, I told
Alexis and Lindsay I thought it a poisoned chalice and I refuse again but agree
to being the point of contact which probably amounts to the same thing. The
meeting goes on for over two hours but we do seem to make some progress.
We agree to meet a the AMTA’s offices on Monday only to discover it’s closed
for a Bank Holiday which also applies to the Tuesday. We will meet in the
office.
I have been a bit surprised we haven’t been receiving e-mails in the office.
After a bit of investigation, I discover someone has sent us the same e-mail

twice, each of 26 mb which, combined, is greater than our capacity. It takes me
about an hour to clear them out of the system.
I think the insects have heard about our electronic racquets. None seem to
want to come visiting. We have to go out onto the balcony to test our weapons
against the ones flying around the light. It makes a very satisfying crack, a bit
like a pistol shot, as the insects are electronically fried. Lindsay gets a bit of a
guilty conscience suggesting it’s a bit like murder. Later Lindsay starts keeping
score, tennis fashion, and although the lead swaps back and forth, the evening
ends with ‘advantage’ to me.
Day 84 – Friday. To avoid the vagaries of the Post Office I leave for St. John’s
at eight and arrive at 8.30. There is no Customs Officer. She is expected at
nine. When we left the U.K. Lindsay had insisted we do not take our video
machines although we were taking around 500 videos. Both machines had
problems with them and I suggest we buy new ones but, because you are not
supposed to import anything under two years old, she insisted we should buy
machines when we arrived. I was concerned by the different VHS system used
in the U.S. and thought U.K. compatible machines might not be available but
allowed myself to be persuaded. Never listen to a woman. I have tried dozens
of different shops all of which recommend me to another shop and none of
which have U.K. compatible VHS’s.
Whilst waiting for the Customs Officer I visit the latest recommendation, receive
the usual answer and another recommendation with the same result. I revisited
a shop which had told me they occasionally stocked U.K. compatible video
players. They send me to another shop where they show me an empty box to
prove that they occasionally have them and offer me one which has a built-in
karaoke machine at EC$995. I decline their offer.
Back at the Post Office the Customs Officer still has not arrived. She does
eventually, complaining of a flat tyre. Quite a crowd has gathered by now and
some are quite rude to her which does not help. When I am served I explain
the book is a gift and although written by someone who lives in Antigua, it is not
yet available here. She says she recognises the name of the author. I am sure
that Graeme will be gratified he is recognised before being published. I do not
correct her.
I take the opportunity to collect our post, from a different Post Office, and some
documents from the solicitor. Having thought I would be in the office by 9.30, I
arrive after eleven.
The rest of the day is spent finalising the magazine and, since I seem to be
fairly pedantic about details, is taking a bit longer than it should but, I hope will
produce a better product and, next year, make life a lot easier.
Lindsay saunters into the office after lunch and throws me out before six.

Lindsay is well into ‘batting’ away the flying insects and reckons it has to be
game, set and match. I cannot be bothered to keep waving the thing around
every time a flying insect appears despite the satisfying crack when contact is
made. There is one exception, hornets, but then that is a bit of a grudge match.
Ignoring the other means by which I have killed them, the score so far is two to
them and four to me.
I should never have left Lindsay with the responsibility of running the generator.
She is always telling me to turn it off and I reply that it needs longer to fully
charge the batteries. The lights go out at ten and I ask Lindsay how long she
left the generator running. She says three quarters of an hour which probably
means half an hour. It has been a fairly overcast day with some heavy rain
storms and to fully charge the batteries would probably need more than an
hour.
Day 85 – Saturday. I need some new deck shoes, Lindsay wants to buy some
lightweight dresses and the generator wants some diesel. Lindsay also wants
to spend some time on the beach and we have been invited to drinks tomorrow
night with the people who were going to sell us the electronics company so we
need to buy some sort of gift.
We go to a shop in the Dockyard but the don’t sell deck shoes but recommend
me to somewhere else. I leave Lindsay looking at clothes and say I will deal
with everything else, allowing her to go to the beach. We agree to
communicate and meet later for a drink.
I get my deck shoes and head off to St. John’s where I know I can buy some
chocolates. On the way back I fill the car with petrol and the cans with diesel.
A young lad starts cleaning my windows and I directed to the inside of the rear
compartment where the windows are still covered with marks from dogs noses.
He volunteers to clean the whole car but I don’t have time. Lindsay has already
rung me from the beach asking when I will be arriving.
I drop the diesel and shopping back at home and head off to meet Lindsay. At
the end of our road is a tree called the ‘hanging tree’ because, every so often, a
local hangs a dead pig from the tree and sells bits off. I determine to have a
piece of local pork on my way back. Obviously it is too popular because by the
time I return it’s all gone. Next time I will stop as soon as I see him.
Rather than buying a couple of dresses as she had intended, Lindsay has spent
US$130 on a hammock, probably the most useless piece of equipment ever
invented other than for below decks in an 18 th Century sailing ship. Also, she
has bought two pairs of shorts.
Tonight’s Tot is at Geoffrey Pidduck’s house. The house is completely different
from what I expected. My vision had been of something ultra-modern yet it is
evidently quite old, stone clad with shutters rather than windows. The location

has good views but is so surrounded with trees and other foliage that it is
almost claustrophobic. The evening is quite social but, Jenny, not having been
too well, we all leave by eight.
Having given up on trying to get a video machine I join the local DVD rental
shop and pick up a DVD, The Aviator. What a load of rubbish. I am sure it won
some Oscars but can’t imagine how.
Day 86 – Sunday. Keep Fit has been cancelled in favour of decorating Life for
tonight’s celebrations. Today is the 14 th anniversary of the founding of the Tot
Club and the 25 th anniversary of the tot being scrubbed from British naval
tradition. Apparently the New Zealand navy carried it on four another four
years. It is agreed we will meet at twelve so it’s a lazy morning during which I
catch up on reading Graeme’s book.
We arrive at Life at a few minutes after twelve to find no-one there. A ‘phone
call to Terry reveals that he is coming and so are Mark and Lindsay.
Eventually, they arrive plus Moya. There seems no plan of action and flags and
bunting are erected rather haphazardly. Terry has a row of bunting he wants to
erect obviously supplied by Heineken. I suggest he should be Court-marshalled
as Heineken, although not German, sounds it.
When we return home, Lindsay asks if I will erect her hammock which I do.
When she gets in, it stretches and needs one end moving. By doing so it raises
the hammock rather too high to get into easily. Lindsay suggests I add more
string to the ends but does not seem to understand that will only bring us back
to the situation we were in before. The real problem is that there is nowhere
lower down to tie the ends and it will need something being made up. Lindsay
ties it again and finds it rather hot as the breeze cannot get through the heavy
cloth. I go back to my original premise, a useless piece of equipment.
John and Anne Ayres live only a couple of hundred yards away but it is uphill,
almost vertical and, despite Lindsay’s protestations, I drive. Plus, if we are
planning to go onto the Tot celebrations, we will need the car. Other
neighbours also arrive, all having walked and make comment on me driving.
Lindsay points out that if I park more than two feet from the kerb I call a taxi.
As soon as we arrive, Anne puts an ash tray beside me. Never having smoked
in her presence I am a little taken aback. Apparently, when the wind is in the
right direction, she can get whiffs of my cigar smoke from our house. The
drinks go on much longer than we expect and we arrive at the Tot celebrations
after they are all over.
Day 87 – Monday. It’s supposed to be a Bank Holiday but I am going into the
office anyway. Last night I was nearly caught out when someone mentioned 1 st
August and I asked the significance. I was asked how long I had been a Tot
member and then realised 1 st August 1798 was the date of the Battle of the Nile

and a date on which the Tot Club is permitted to hoist the White Ensign on the
flagstaff in Nelson’s Dockyard. I just redeemed myself. Before going to the
office I go to the Dockyard to assist in the hoisting of the Flag.
At 9.30 the members of the committee to organise the Trade Show turn up at
the office except they have expanded from three to five which is not a bad thing
when you are looking for volunteers except one woman cannot keep on the
subject and we wastes at least an hour going off at tangents. The meeting goes
on for over three hours and I am left with a couple of hours sorting out what we
have agreed and producing a plan with which to move forward.
Having well missed lunch I grab a few biscuits from a nearby store and try to get
some work done. I am trying to generate the magazine as one whole document
which has never been done in the past and running into problems because
some of the work is done in Quark and other in Photoshop. A few of the
advertisements are repeats and most of these are the Quark documents. Quark
is very cumbersome and difficult to transfer over and, in the end, it is often
quicker just to completely redo the advertisements in Photoshop. Also, the way
things have been done in the past, if an advertisement is repeated it is not
included with the current documents as the printer has a copy therefore I have
been trying to extract information from old programmes some of which have
been corrupted plus, some advertisements have been sent direct to the printers.
All this will have to change and I feel I want to ask the printer to send to me all
old advertisements and any which have been uploaded direct but I feel Alexis
my think it’s a criticism of how he has done things in the past.
Emptying the waste bin in the kitchen a tiny mouse jumps out, no bigger than a
small field mouse. It’s too quick to catch even if we had been prepared for it.
Both Lindsay and I were too startled to do anything but next on the shopping list
is a mouse trap.
One of the my Trade Show (which is now renamed Marine Exhibition) is to
prepare the floor plan. At home I think I have an architectural CAD programme
which I bought some years ago thinking I might put floor plans in relief view on
estate agents details. I never got around to it but still have the disk. I have no
idea where the manual is or even if I still have it, anyway I never read them.
After half an hour of playing around I produce a very respectable plan, In fact I
am very pleased with myself. Lindsay less so because she wants to go to be
and the study leads off the bedroom. I copy my plan to a CD and will take it to
the office tomorrow and see if I can get the programme to run on a MAC.
Day 88 – Tuesday. Alexis rings me and asks if I am coming to the office. I tell
him I am on my way. He thinks he has left his keys at home. I point that he
hasn’t as they are still on his desk in the office. I am almost at the office but I
am surprised to see him as today is another Bank Holiday. I think he has had
enough time off and needs to get back to work and, as he points out, it’s not a
holiday in the rest of the world.

The architectural programme will not run on a MAC computer so I will have to
take a printer home and work from there.
One of the things which is quite nice about this time of year is that it is very
quiet but the downside is that an awful lot of places are shut. We walk into the
dockyard to get some lunch and nothing is open which means we have to resort
to Cloggy’s which always hurts me as it is so expensive but, I suppose, if they
are the only ones open they can afford to be expensive.
I receive an e-mail from the U.K. which directs me the Cowes Week website, in
particular, to Moose on the Loose. I look at the site and see that Duncan
Money is claiming to have been skipper of my boat when we won our class and
Best British boat in Antigua last year. I am incensed and immediately e-mail
Cowes and tell them that it is incorrect and to have the reference removed from
their website.
Maybe it’s difficult to understand why I am so annoyed and I have kept to myself
but in view of what Duncan has done I don’t see why I should any longer.
One of the things I disliked most as did most of the crew, particularly the
females, was the way Duncan would stand on the back of our accommodation
boat which was moored on the dockside and shout lewd suggestions to any
passing women. I asked him to desist and he replied that he was on holiday. I
pointed out that the rest of us had come to try to win Sailing Week.
When I tackled Duncan about his lack of commitment, unpreparedness and
general loutish behaviour he stormed off and disappeared in a sulk for 24 hours.
I wasn’t disappointed to see him go but the crew persuaded me to allow him
back, much to the later regret of many of them. It was only excellent work by
the rest of the crew which made up for Duncan’s errors.
I wish I had gone with my instincts at the time, not had him back and appointed
Peter Whittle as navigator/tactician. Peter has done it for me in the past and
would have been far better prepared and, unlike Duncan who seemed to make
a point of refusing to give me any information as we sailed the courses, Peter
would have kept me well informed, probably over informed from past
experience. Peter would hold a chart up in front of my face just as I was
manoeuvring for the start line.
I now presume that this lack of information from Duncan was an attempt to try to
show to himself and others that he was skipper. In fact, if he had done as I
asked and given me information we would have made fewer mistakes. His
answer to me was always that I didn’t need to know, I was just steering the
boat. Well, he was wrong. Not only did I know the boat better than anyone else
but also I was the skipper and all decisions were ultimately mine not his.
Someone did tell me that Duncan had once said when talking to Club Class that

he won Antigua Sailing Week. Well, he didn’t. He nearly lost it for us. In fact,
Duncan was supposed to act as a relief helm for me but when I asked him to
give me break on the long, downwind legs, he said he didn’t think he could
handle the boat.
On one occasion by refusing to take notice of what I and most of the crew were
saying he cost us a first place in a race and he nearly cost the last race by
trying to send us to the wrong mark. Before racing even started when the boat
was still out of the water and we were polishing the underside of the hull,
Duncan, after a couple of hours work, was always the first to want to give up
and go to get a beer. He sometimes tried to persuade the crew to come with
him. Before leaving the U.K. he was the one who constantly said how much
work we had to do to the underside yet he was the least willing to do it.
During the racing Duncan would usually wear a different shirt from the rest of
the crew. It is fairly commonplace for a skipper to wear a different shirt and I
mentioned, at the time, to Lindsay that I thought he wanted to appear to be
skipper. It seems as though I am proved right although in all my photos and the
one’s which appear in the yacht club, I have re-coloured Duncan’s shirt to the
same as everyone else’s.
I decided then that I would never allow Duncan on any boat of mine again nor
would I sail with him on any other boat. Since Duncan was Commodore of the
yacht club, I was so unhappy with his behaviour that I discussed with Lindsay
resigning my position as President and leaving the Club because I didn’t want to
be part of an organisation which was represented by someone who behaved in
that manner and, worse still, not only thought it acceptable but didn’t care that
others thought it was not. Lindsay suggested that what happened in Antigua
should be left in Antigua and it would have been had Duncan not tried to claim
he skippered my boat. That has brought back all the anger and ill-feeling I had
at the time.
I takes me quite a few days to get over my anger which is rare for me.
Obviously, all those feelings I had bottled up in 2004 came bubbling back to the
surface with a vengeance. .
Lindsay wants to go to the last day of Carnival. I am not so keen. It’s
apparently very noisy, very crowded and quite boisterous. Many people
recommended us against it. I shouldn’t say fortunately but I do. A house at the
top of St. John’s has caught fire and they are stopping any more people going
into town. I couldn’t have planned it better.
It is dark as we drive home and Lindsay is following me. I reverse into the
driveway and Lindsay has stopped in the road and is out of the car. Apparently,
she had been hooting at me to stop. A small dog had been wandering around
the rear of my car as I reversed and is now standing in the road. It is quite
nervous and runs away when approached but keeps coming back. It’s

obviously a pedigree and must belong to someone. Lindsay tries to entice it
with some food and water but to no avail. Another resident stops in the road to
assist but the dog runs off into the scrub.
As we are eating dinner the dog appears on the veranda but is still nervous and
unapproachable. We put the food out which it wolfs down. Gradually it’s
confidence grow and bit by bit it creeps into the house. After an hour or so, if
one of us goes out of the room and returns it stands up and wags its tail. By the
time we are ready for bed it wants to be stroked and wants to sleep in the
house. Lindsay is adamant, if it’s going to sleep anywhere it will be on the
veranda. I pick it up and put it on a cushion on the veranda. It is straight back
through the door. We repeat the exercise a couple of times before I
successfully shut the door with the dog on the outside. We leave a bowl of
water and the veranda light on but it spurns our hospitality and disappears.
I finally get around to trying to print my plan but find the PC requires a disk for
the printer and that’s in the office.
Day 89 – Wednesday. It’s that generator again but this time, my fault. I go to
start it at about seven and check the diesel. The gauge is worse than useless
so I look in the top of the tank. It’s fairly empty but I can’t be bother to lift a five
gallon can of diesel and I reckon there’s about enough. I’m wrong. After about
half an hour there splutterings and backfires. The diesel has run out and I
discover it’s not a self bleeding engine. It takes me ten minutes to get it going
again. That will teach me to be lazy.
All day is spent in the office trying to finalise everything to get it to the printers
on Friday so there’s very little to add to the diary except that when I get home I
load the disk into the computer for the printer and it still won’t work. I think it
may be conflicting with the printer programmes I already installed. I remove all
programmes and it works. I print the plan which I will now have to scan into the
office computer so that I can use it.
Day 90 – Thursday. I am in the office early not only because I have a lot of
work to do but also because I know Alexis has left his keys behind and won’t be
able to get in.
At about eleven I head off for St. John’s mainly to get paper for the long print
run we have to do but also to go to the insurance company, the solicitors, the
bank, the Post Office and to collect s few miscellaneous supplies including a
mouse trap. The mouse trap is interesting, in fact, it’s two mouse traps and
they are EC$7 so I get my money out and I am asked for EC$4.55. Apparently,
there is a 25% discount. I ask if that means they only catch three quarters of a
mouse. I must stop doing things like that since I always end up having to
explain what I mean.

Driving back I hear on the radio that interest rates in the U.K. have gone down a
quarter of a percent. I feel quite pleased with myself. For months before we left
the U.K. when everyone was predicting a rise in interest rates I maintained the
next change would be downward. It didn’t come quite as soon as I expected
but I suspect the election may have had something to do with that.
A few of our advertisers still have not sent their advertisements. Not their fault
as they employ advertising agencies. One agency never answers their ‘phone
and even their client is getting exasperated. I decide to prepare an
advertisement myself. It is quite complicated and takes quite a long time. It is
for the garage where I bought my car and, having seen their other
advertisements, they always use a lot of pictures of cars which I download from
the internet but have to remove the backgrounds. I put five different vehicles
into the advert and e-mail it to the garage. They approve it but want two of the
cars changed. That takes me another hour or so.
We want to run the final print dummy of the magazine bit with various delays, I
don’t get it started until 5.30. It finishes printing at 7.45. It’s quite some time
since I have done a twelve hour day and not something I expected to do in
Antigua.
While I am still in the office, Lindsay rings and ask me what size is the
measurement, a cup. How on earth do I know. She suggest I look on the
internet. I type in “cup measurement” and much to my surprise it lists – 8 fluid
ounces, 237 ml, 16 tablespoons and various other things I can’t remember. I
wonder what witches brew Lindsay is concocting at home.
As I leave the office the two little bars next door are absolutely humming. I have
never been in either of them and they always seem rather quite. They seem to
be rendezvous’ for young ex-pats. I really feel like a drink and am tempted to
go in to one but feel I ought to go home.
I am not surprised the mousetraps are so cheap. The first one doesn’t work
until I have modified it with a pair of pliers and the second one traps my fingers
twice before I can get it set. When I look at the instruction I can’t believe that
they recommend placing a piece of cheese in the trap. I am not sure how it is
going to work as it is so sensitive. I suggest to Lindsay that we mat catch a
couple of midges since any minute weight change will set them off. A bit of me
feels a little guilty as I imagine this poor creature trapped in a crushing spring all
night. I must be getting sentimental in my old age.
Day 91 – Friday. I needn’t have worried about the mouse. It evidently doesn’t
like cheese. One trap has been set off but the cheese is still there. The other is
still set. In the shop they had some sticky mouse traps. Maybe I should try one
of those.

Today we are trying to finalise the Marine Guide and send everything off to the
printers. I have a 9.30 meeting with the Nicholson’s regarding the show. Until
last year the Nicholson’s had run the boat show which has been going for over
40 years.
Nothing is going right with the printing of the draft of the Guide and Alexis is
getting more and more frustrated. I leave him and Lindsay to get on with
suggesting that they cancel the FedEx collection since we had told the printer it
would be sent on Monday so we have a day in hand.
The meeting with the Nicholson’s goes surprisingly well. I’d had a feeling that
maybe they would be entrenched in tradition and not welcome new ideas.
Quite the reverse was true. Callie, an American girl who has handled
exhibitions in the U.S. is with me and she talks enough for both of us but she is
very enthusiastic and well prepared even remembering some of my suggestions
which I had forgotten.
Back at the office they have cancelled FedEx and found, once the pressure was
off, everything worked smoothly so FedEx has been re-ordered. There is
nothing much left for me to do except that one of cars I changed yesterday in
the advert. is being replaced in the near future by another model. They want
the latest model which I add and will upload the finished article to the printers
with another last minute change on Monday.
Having agreed to do the press release and sponsorship requests for the Marine
Exhibition I start preparing them. I decide on something a little more colourful
than the usual press release and get about halfway through when the computer
crashes. I thought Mac’s were virtually immune to crashes. It had taken me
about an hour but at least I have the automatic save running except that nothing
is saved and I have to start all over again. At least I don’t have to think about
what I am doing, having already planned the context and layout so it is a bit
quicker. I get to about the same point when the computer crashed again but
this time I have been saving manually every few minutes so I should be safe
except I’m not. Nothing has saved. Starting for the third time I make a duplicate
of the work and regularly save in both of them but only working in one copy so if
the computer crashes again I will have a complete backup. Of course, it doesn’t
crash again.
The Bank of Antigua rings. We have had all kinds of trouble with the bank who
don’t seem to want to pass the business account over to us. Every time we
meet their requirements they come up with some new ones. Having lost
patience with them the other day I threatened to move the account to First
Caribbean. Today they come up with yet a further requirement so I tell them I
will solve their problem for them. When they ask how I tell them I am closing
the account.

On the way home I stop and get a DVD only to discover we have seen the film
before. As I reverse into the drive I am brought up short by a large mound of
earth I haven’t seen in the dark and step out into another one. Apparently, a
large amount of topsoil has been delivered which is going to be spread over the
garden, weed killer having been sprayed everywhere.
Before going to bed I reset the mouse traps, Lindsay suggesting the mouse
might have a sweet tooth so I change the bait.
Day 92 – Saturday. The mouse traps are no more effective but the weed killer
has done a magnificent job. Everything in the garden is dead. Maybe I should
put a bit of weed killer in the mouse traps.
Whilst Lindsay is cooking breakfast I notice the gas has gone out on the stove
and presume the wind has blown it out. Lindsay points out that since two rings
have gone out it is more likely that the gas has run out. Fortunately, I had
bought a spare bottle last time we ran out so it only takes a few minutes to
change.
Whilst Lindsay goes to buy some petrol and collect a few rays of sunshine I
have a few things to sort out at the office including meeting someone at twelve.
I take the empty gas bottle only to discover they don’t sell gas on a Saturday
after eleven. It is now five past. I deal with the various other things I have to do
and arrive back home at about one.
My car ‘phone has been playing up and I investigate the problem. The clip
which holds the ‘phone in place is only plastic and it has become worn. It no
longer pushes the ‘phone back onto it’s connections. It looks as though it will
be a relatively simple job to replace the clip with a piece of metal cut to the right
size. I cut a section out of a Jubilee clip and fashion it to the right shape. All I
need do is drill a couple of hole in the metal and it should be as good as new.
The metal is stainless steel and I cannot find a drill bit which will go through it.
The only solution is to mark it up and get someone to drill it out for me on
Monday. In the meantime I fashion a cotter pin as a temporary clip but have to
be a bit careful removing the ‘phone as it is a bit sharp.
Whilst I am working at my modifications a JCB arrives. It is going to spread the
topsoil around the garden. The driver is accompanied by another man who
asks me if I have a shovel or a rake. He obviously came well prepared. They
spend an hour or so moving topsoil around and leave the garden looking like
the surface of the moon. Lindsay has an attempt at making things look better
but gives up when it is apparent that there is probably a week’s work.
The Tot and dinner is at Tony and Moya’s house and there is quite a crowd.
We leave at about 9.30 and Lindsay is game for going somewhere else but then
changes her mind. I am somewhat relieved as I don’t fancy a late night.

Whilst out today I have bought some sticky mouse traps and put them down
before we go to bed.
Day 93 – Sunday. Success. Stuck in one of the traps is a tiny mouse. It’s not
much bigger than my thumb. I tell Lindsay who suggests I might take some
distance away and let it go. Even it I wanted to, there is no way I would be able
to extract the mouse from the glue. I feel a bit sorry for the mouse. It keeps
opening and closing it’s mouth in a bleating sort of a way and there are tears in
it’s eyes. Lindsay says I am going soft. I take it outside and hit it on the head
with a large stick.
Ten o’clock we meet at the Galley Bar to go to the Keep Fit class. Today’s task
is to clear the Jones Valley Trail. One advantage is that we are starting at the
bottom so it’s downhill on the way back. We arrive at the foot and the notice
indicating the path which includes the words “cleared by the Royal Naval Tot
Club…” is completely overgrown. We are all rather embarrassed by the state of
the path. As usual, I am in charge of the chainsaw. To begin with there isn’t
too much heavy stuff which requires a chainsaw but there are a number of
overgrown thorn bushes which are easier to tackle with a chainsaw than any
other tool. The only problem with thorn bushes is that they fight back. In no
time at all my hands and arms are covered in scratches and there is blood
everywhere.
Mike has brought Nuisance and Ruthie with him and they accompany us up the
trail. Every time I reach for a bottle of water the dogs look at me longingly. In
the end they drink more of my water that I do. Just carrying a ten pound
chainsaw is hard work but wielding it around cutting at bushes and small trees
is exhausting. At about half eleven I sit down to catch my breath. Mike has
disappeared up the trail and left the dogs with me. After a few minutes I decide
to return with the dogs to the others who are still working on the undergrowth at
the lower end of the trail, apart from anything else, the dogs have drunk all my
water and I’m thirsty. At the beginning of the trail the sign says “One Mile”. It
lies. I swear I have walked, no climbed, at least five and it must be two back to
the others.
Not long after rejoining them Mike reappears and tells me there is a fallen tree
across the path. Will I bring the chainsaw and cut it up? He’s not the one who
has to carry it. I follow him back the ‘two miles’ I have already come and into an
old river bed strewn with large rocks and boulders over which I have enough
difficulty pulling myself let alone the chainsaw. Part way up we come across a
number of large logs which Mike says we will need several people to shift.
They look a bit desiccated so I give one of them a good kick and it falls apart,
full of termites. It takes me a minute or so to clear all three away unnoticed by
Mike who has disappeared skyward up the rocky slope.
Eventually, I round a corner and see Mike leaning against another fallen tree
but this one looks in its prime and it’s a mahogany tree. I swear sparks come

off the blade of the chainsaw when cutting mahogany trees. It’s wood is as
tough as stone. I decide to tackle it in sections, the smaller parts first. Mike
applies his weight to the bough in an attempt to help split the wood. I tell him
not to bother. With mahogany trees you even have to chainsaw through the
bark. It takes me half an hour to cut up the tree. Mike has thrown the smaller
section onto the side of the trail leaving one large section to be moved. We
both bend down to pick it up. No chance. Maybe and only maybe, we could
have done it had it been at the beginning of Keep Fit but no way at the end. We
leave it for next week.
I am soaked from head to foot in perspiration and covered in sawdust, blood
and scratches. No part of my clothes are dry including the bottoms of my
trousers and they are long ones. We retire to Calabash, the nearest bar, to
recuperate. Lindsay takes the opportunity to go for a swim. I am wet enough
already and don’t fancy adding sand to the motley collections of things attaching
themselves to my clothes.
A siesta and a bit of peace and quite for what remains of Sunday is in order
although I have promised to collect a book on the sinking of the Kursk from
Mike so I make a very brief visit to the Tot. Lindsay stays at home.
Day 94 – Monday. We are woken at four twenty by a massive crash. How do I
know it was 4.20? Because it was a clock which was blown of a shelf and onto
the floor taking a rather heavy picture in a stand with it. The clock stopped not
because it was broken but because the battery fell out. The picture is also
unbroken but the wooden floor faired less well, having two deep scores in it.
At around seven Lindsay wanders into the kitchen and comes out shrieking.
Having bought two sticky traps I left the other one out having caught our mouse
for no better reason than I didn’t know what to do with it. Obviously baby
mouse’s mummy or, from the size of it, daddy, had come looking for it’s
offspring. I am not sure what the distinction is between a mouse and a rat but
the tray is eight inches long and the mouse (rat?) extended almost the full
length of the tray plus it’s tail was as long again. Surprisingly, I feel sorry for
this creature as well. It has obviously been suffering for a long time because it
has made an awful mess of itself. I take it outside a despatch it with what
Lindsay now calls my ‘killing stick’. I tell her to make sure Charlie doesn’t throw
it away when he is doing the garden.
I am supposed to have a meeting about the Marine Exhibition at 9.30 but this
gets postponed until three so, after a little work, I drive to see my bank about
moving the account from Bank of Antigua. They give me a folder of forms to fill
in. I cannot understand why it’s so difficult to open bank accounts in this
country. It’s not as though I want to borrow any money. I keep my mouth shut
as I don’t want to alienate yet another bank.

On my way back I call in at our generator supplier but the owner is not in. He’d
told me to contact him in a fortnight and that is up today. Perhaps that is why
he is missing. I take the opportunity to get my piece of stainless steel drilled for
my ‘phone but have no time to fit it. Anyway, my temporary repair is working
perfectly satisfactorily so there is no urgency.
The Exhibition meeting kicks off at three and goes on until after five. Rather
than go home Lindsay sits in and listens. Once again, the power is off so there
isn’t much she can do although the UPS is keep the computers going. After the
meeting has finished I start on a few things I need to do but Lindsay says it’s
time to go and shuts up the office. There is someone I need to see who has the
name and address of a man in the U.K. who has land for sale near us. All the
advice we are given is not to deal with him as he is rather untrustworthy. I am
already aware of his reputation but don’t want to admit I only wish to use him as
a bargaining chip.
I spend an hour or so struggling with the Cad programme I had installed on the
computer at home, wishing it would work at the office. I have come across a
programme called LimeWire which allows you, quite illegally, to download any
programme you like over the internet. Since I have already paid once for the
CAD programme I might download a MAC version. Whilst writing I have set
LimeWire going and it has found 75 people on-line with TurboCad V8 (the
programme) but none seem to be Mac versions.
My main problem is that I have to generate a 3D drawing on my computer at
home. Either print it as a photograph and scan it in at the office or generate a
photo from it and save it to disk so I can work on it as a photo in the office. It
would be so much easier to do it all in one place or, maybe, I shouldn’t try to be
so clever and try to design buildings in 3D.
Day 95 – Tuesday. Lindsay is taking the day off to go into town with Connie.
For some reason I can’t understand, they are going on the ‘bus. Lindsay claims
it’s all part of the Caribbean experience. I think it is an experience I would
rather overlook.
I check out the website I have been given of the person in the U.K. who has
land near where we are and download a plan. Some of it is quite interesting
and I send him an e-mail asking if he is seriously selling. Based on the way he
has apparently messed others around, I await his reply with interest.
Without really noticing the time passing by, I receive a call from Lindsay just
after one to say she is back and do I want her to bring me some lunch. She is
in English Harbour as her car is here having driven from home to meet Connie.
I had just been thinking about going home to have lunch as I want to install the
bracket I have made for my ‘phone and sharpen the blade on the chainsaw
before lending it to Tony. The power cuts out which makes my decision for me.
Without air conditioning the temperature in the office rise quite rapidly.

Back home Charlie has raked most of the topsoil reasonable flat and scattered
grass seed over it. It’s just as well there are very few birds here otherwise the
seeds would be gone before they had a chance to germinate. I ask him if he’s
going to rake them into the soil but he claims they will be fine and that the lawn
will have grown in less than a month. We will see.
Lindsay and I go to have a look at the plots of land, plan in hand and run into
David who used to own the land along with the guy in the U.K.. They fell out
rather badly. He invites us into his house for a beer, shows us around and
points out where the boundaries are to the land.
Before leaving to go back to the office I sharpen the chainsaw and fit my
bracket even rounding off the sharp edges with a grinder. Unfortunately, the
only source of 240 volt power is in the living room where I have installed the
transformer for the television. Lindsay complains at all the steel filings lying on
the living room floor.
The power is still off when I get back to the office and the backup battery in the
UPS has run out. I should have turned the computer off before leaving. This
does give me the opportunity to deal the bank forms which I have been avoiding
all day. The power kicks back in just as I have finished.
I have a large file coming in over the internet so, whilst I am waiting I check out
the BBC website. I notice the Archers are the top item so I click onto it and
listen to ten minutes of the Grundy’s and Jack Wooley. Nothing has really
changed although, some how, it’s harder to listen to than it was when it just
came on the car radio as I was driving home from the office. The file has
finished downloading and I am not disappointed to turn the Archers off before it
has finished. Maybe life in the U.K. was more boring.
E-mails galore. Gildas, crew in Race Week 2004 and who I haven’t heard from
almost since Antigua Race Week, tells me about his wedding which is taking
place in Alsace. I point out it’s the perfect place for a Frenchman to marry a
German girl as frequently changed hands from the French and the Germans
and they can carry on the 1870 Franco/Prussian war, the First and Second
World Wars. A perfect basis for a marriage.
Paul’s e-mail advises me ‘my’ boat goes a lot faster after it has a scrub. Anne
and Alan feel sorry for the mouse and Hector has too many questions but still
can’t work out how to send me ‘photos of his house. I do tell him it’s about time
he graduated from the 19 th Century.
Having a drink with David in the evening he tells me about the time he placed
an advert in the Telegraph for a lady companion. I don’t know David’s age but it
is over 70. Surprisingly, I was given a letter at a lunch in the U.K. before we left

written by David to a friend who had met him in the 1980’s and, therefore, I had
some knowledge of him before arriving here.
He had forty seven replies which he narrowed down to 20 to whom he spoke.
Twelve were interviewed all of whom came out to Antigua. He tells a very
amusing story about his various encounters including one occasion when one
lady took a flight out on the same ‘plane as the one on which another was
arriving. None of his encounters were successful so he tried a few agencies
with little further success until one lady, rather coyly, made contact. Eventually,
they met in Antigua and she turned out to be the Managing Director of the
agency. Whilst it didn’t work out, it doesn’t seem to have failed either. They are
still in touch.
Day 96 – Wednesday. I need to collect various things from the solicitors before
going to the bank. Although I am in the office soon after eight, the solicitor’s
office doesn’t open until after nine and, when I ring, I am told our solicitor will
not be in until after ten. I leave a message. By twelve she still hasn’t rung and I
try again. This time I speak to her asking whether the documents I requested
by fax on Monday are ready. She tells me the papers will be ready by one. We
need to be at the bank before two when it closes.
In the meantime the power has failed again and my UPS has only an hour and
fifteen minutes backup. After an hour I shut down all electrical equipment to
allow the ‘phone to remain in operation. There is not much I can do and when
Lindsay arrives with lunch we eat it and head off into town. I need petrol and
the traffic lights by the garage in the middle of the island are out. I wonder
whether the pumps are working. Fortunately, they have their own generator.
Petrol has gone up in price. It’s now about £2 per gallon although the
newspapers are reporting it’s coming down in price.
We arrive at the solicitor’s office before one and wait until twenty to two before
we receive the papers. It’s probably too late to get to the bank and, anyway, I
have forgotten the Company Seal which is back at the office. Whilst waiting
Lindsay is reading a magazine relating to house designs and interiors. She
sees a picture of a house which we both like. I suggest she tears out the page.
Lindsay has a quick look around for hidden cameras and does as I suggest.
Obviously she is not the first person to do this. The magazine I am reading has
a page missing.
Whilst in town we collect our mail which comprises two statements and a
birthday card for me from Lindsay’s grandmother. While I am at the post office
Lindsay does some food shopping. Another thing we finally try to sort out is the
refund on Lindsay’s ticket. The ticketing agent at the Virgin desk spends half an
hour explaining the problem to Barbados. The end result was that we have to
contact London. In the meantime a queue of not too amused people has grown
behind us.

We need to get a Cool-Box or in Aussie language, an eskie, to take our drinks
to a barbeque on Saturday. I suggest we call in at a discount store where it
might be cheap. It’s a 44 quart box with a couple of smaller ones inside. I
presume they are American quarts which are smaller than English ones so it’s
probably called a 40 litre unit in the rest of the world. At EC$225 it doesn’t
seem cheap to me but then I have never bought one before.
On the way back, Lindsay’s father rings. There is post for us which we ask him
to open. BT will never cease to amaze me. They are trying to bill me for line
rent from June until August despite me giving up the line in February. The big
problem is trying to sort them out from here
I have decided that either I have to stop going to the Tot club or only drink soft
drinks Monday to Friday. It’s too easy to get into the habit of having more than
one drink. Tonight I have a coke and don’t feel like having another one so we
go home. I will have to find something easier to drink which is non-alcoholic.
Walking down the steps to turn on the generator something large leaps across
in front of me. My immediate thought is a rat but it’s only a toad or large frog.
The hornets are fighting back. Walking to the bathroom I tread on another one
which promptly stings my foot. I eliminate him and one of his pals. I am
becoming a little immune to the affects of the stings. The first one hurt for a
couple of days, the second for only a few hours and this one for less than an
hour. It looks as though they are losing the chemical warfare aspect of the
battle.
Day 97 – Thursday. We leave home before eight to get to the bank soon after it
opens. We are armed with sheaves of papers and the Company Seal. The first
lady we see tells us she doesn’t deal with business accounts but will get
someone. Ten minutes later we are led to another part of the building where we
are shown to some chairs. Another ten minutes passes and a gentleman tells
us he is going to check that the conference room is free. During the ten
minutes he is away checking the room another lady appears and tells us she
will be dealing with us. After a total of about half an hour we are led to a room
where both of them see us. We produce prodigious amounts of paperwork and
they produce a prodigious number of forms to be filled. Thank God, I did some
of them the other day. They are not satisfied with our paperwork. Despite
being told we didn’t need a document now, apparently we do and it’s one we
are having difficulty getting. There are other documents we don’t have and not
on the list of documents they gave me plus they want several of the documents
we do have either stamped by the solicitor or the Registrar of Companies. The
list seems endless.
I am all in favour of ringing the solicitor and seeing her straight away. Lindsay is
against so we head back to English Harbour. We are about in the middle of the
island when the ‘phone rings. It’s one of the solicitor’s assistants. She wants to

see us. I say I want to see the solicitor. We turn around and are seen with only
a short wait. The solicitor claims the problem is with the Registrar but will try to
get things sorted.
Since things are quiet at the office I start to fill the gaps around the newly
installed windows. I am sure half our air conditioning is leaking out though the
gaps. I soon realise I don’t have enough filler. I have used a whole tub on one
window and still have four windows to go with only one tub remaining. I ring
Lindsay to ask her to collect an extra large tub. Unfortunately, the gaps on the
second window are much smaller than on the first and I notice windows three to
five have been partially done by the landlord so I cancel the order for more filler.
As it turns out I should have modified the order to one small tub as I run out
before finishing.
As is to prove that I have just wasted my time the power goes off, cutting the air
conditioning. I open all the windows to let in some breeze making my gap filling
totally superfluous.
The solicitor’s assistant rings again, am I in town? She wants me to collect
some papers for Alexis to sign. I say I will speak to Alexis and call her back. I
can’t get hold of Alexis but Lindsay tells me she is going into St. John’s
tomorrow.
The power comes back on after nearly three hours and my UPS gave up about
an hour ago so I have been reading a local sailing magazine. No sooner do I
have power than Alexis rings. We agree to meet tomorrow after Lindsay gets
back from town. I ring the solicitor to tell her. She doesn’t remember that I
have said I will ring back.
In the evening I meet up with Geoff Pidduck and talk about the two plots he has
for sale. He wants to sell them as one but we don’t want the pair. After a while
he says he will sell us one of them. The plots are not situated where we really
want to be but are in a good location and have stunning views. Although I have
never seen the actual plots I know, more or less, where they are.
Day 98 – Friday. Lindsay is going into St. John’s again with Connie but this
time by car. Before I go into the office and she goes to town we look at the
plots, at least, we look at some land which we think are the plots.
Getting back into the car I notice there is a missed call on my ‘phone. It is my
parents telephone number. Also, there is a voice message as they argued over
what to do next (they were using two 'phones and neither had put them down).
I try to ring back but they are obviously trying to ring me. To avoid confusing
them too much I give up and await their call.
At the office the power is off again. Apparently there are problems with the
generators at the power station. We know all about generator problems but it

doesn’t help me sympathise with them. The main problem is years of
inadequate maintenance, all blamed on the previous Government. As we have
no power, I ring Geoff Pidduck and ask him to show me precisely where the
plots are situated. They are even higher up the slope than we thought making
the views even better but the land is steeper.
I get a call from the solicitors telling me that Lindsay has picked up the papers
but they forgot to give her some. Fortunately Lindsay is still in St. John’s.
The power eventually comes back on at eleven as Lindsay arrives and I
telephone Alexis to say the papers are ready for him to sign. He agrees to
come in at twelve thirty. All the papers are marked, in nine places, where he
has to sign. We finish off some work uploading a couple of adverts which have
been modified and I head off to St. John’s with the signed documents. The
solicitor looks through the papers and finds six more, unmarked, places where
signatures are required. I ring Alexis and agree to meet him halfway to get the
extra signatures and return to town.
On my way back I ring Lindsay and suggest we meet so she can see the actual
plots. She is a bit concerned by the steepness. (My thought processes have
just been interrupted by Lindsay requiring me to remove a spider from her
hammock in which she is lying). We agree to get a builder to have a look.
Maybe we are getting somewhere.
We go to the Tot, obligatory as it’s both my birthday and Friday. I make Geoff
buy me a drink which ends up being a large round. Geoff is also required to
pay for three bottles of rum but runs out of money. I lend him some but at such
an extortionate rate of interest that if he doesn’t pay it back quickly he will have
to give us the plot for free.
We have arranged to have dinner at the Inn on English Harbour with Sven and
Julie who have brought me a rather nice claret. Pity we can’t drink it with
dinner. The meal is good and we probably drink a little too much, leaving the
restaurant at eleven.
As we drive up towards the house I ask Lindsay where her car is. She looks
puzzled, convinced she had parked it outside before we left. It has gone. In
other circumstances, the look on her face would be amusing. Going into the
house we see we have been burgled. The house has been ransacked and in
the process they found Lindsay’s car keys. Obviously, they were only after
money. Nothing else has been taken apart from two torches, a small radio
which doesn’t pick up anything useful out here and Lindsay’s Walkman DVD
player which doesn’t work properly although it contains her Brian Ferry disk. I
tell her they will probably soon chuck that away. The cash taken was about
EC$25 Lindsay had left in a purse and about £50 I had in a drawer. On the
advice of the landlord we have been leaving the windows open, only secured by
the mosquito netting. The thieves have cut their way through the netting and,

even though we lock internal doors, they have used three different windows to
gain access to all rooms. We call the police who arrive after about half an hour
but there is not much they can do. The police tell us there has been an
attempted burglary down the road but the owners were in and scared them off.
We go to bed at about one.
Day 99 – Saturday. Waking at about seven I have an idea. If I e-mail everyone
in Antigua I have on the office computer with a photo of Lindsay’s car and ask
them to pass it on to everyone they know, we might have a chance of the car
being spotted. I drive into the office and compose an e-mail list. I have just
about completed the list when Lindsay rings. The police are at the house and
they have found the car. It has been abandoned in St. John’s with the keys in it
but it won’t start. The police are going to drive Lindsay into St. john’s and I
agree to meet them there. About halfway there I check with Lindsay to find her
whereabouts and it turns out she is a few miles behind me. I wait for them to
catch up.
We wait at the St. John’s Police Station for the fingerprint expert. He is on
another job and arrives about an hour later. Having jumped one red light
following the police car I decline to jump a second. The police car disappears
out of sight. I notice, two cars back, a van I had suggested to Lindsay, when it
arrived at the police station, might belong to the fingerprint expert and I pull over
until it passes. My detective skills are obviously reasonable as I turn out to be
correct but quite unnecessarily as the other police car is waiting a few hundred
yards ahead and within sight is Lindsay’s car.
After the car has been fingerprinted unsuccessfully, and we arrange for the
fingerprint expert to call at the house at twelve, we investigate why it won’t start.
It appears that the plastic lining to the underside of the front nearside mudguard
had come loose and begun rubbing against the tyre. One can only imagine how
it was driven to achieve this. The plastic had become so hot it caught fire and
transferred the heat though into the engine bay where it melted part of the
wiring loom causing the car to stop in the middle of the road. To the untrained
eye it doesn’t look too bad but we will have to get it to a garage to be
investigated. The police offer to get a ‘wreaker’ to come and tow the car away.
Since we have my car I tell them we will go and buy a tow rope. Halfway to the
car accessory shop I remember that neither Lindsay nor I have brought any
money with us. Earlier, when we were waiting for the fingerprint expert, I
suggested we go to a café opposite for a cup of tea. Knowing I hadn’t brought
any money I asked Lindsay if she had any but she had left hers at home. You
would have thought that after last night both of us should have known better.
Fortunately, the shop took a cheque.
Until now I have never appreciated the value of a Suzuki Jimny. It is very light
and the two of us manage to push it across the road to face the opposite
direction. A local appears to assist with the connection of the tow rope and to
give some advice on towing plus suggesting that both cars should use their

hazard warning lights. I point out that everything on Lindsay’s car had fused so
it has no lights.
After a couple of hundred yards I see Lindsay frantically waving and I stop.
Apparently, she has no brakes and is concern that I might go too fast as she is
having to slow on the hand brake. Obviously, she has never driven a car
without servo-assistance and doesn’t realise that the brakes will still work if you
press hard enough but, since I have no intention of speeding, I am happy set of
at a crawl gaining a long tailback which, in view of the oncoming traffic, I can do
nothing to alleviate.
We arrive at the garage to be greeted by a ‘receptionist’ who could not be less
interested in our plight, suggesting we leave the car and return at eight on
Monday.
At twelve we are supposed to be going to a Tot Club barbeque at a local beauty
spot, Wallings Dam, so I ring Mike Rose and say we probably won’t make it.
Just as well since there is no sign of the fingerprint expert at twelve, or one or,
in fact, at all. By six decide to replace the mosquito netting in two of the
windows. I have enough netting left over from when we did the bathroom
window. The third window will have to wait until Monday.
Whilst waiting for the police Lindsay is wandering around the garden pulling
large green things out of the soil which seem to have sprung up from nothing to
six inches in three or four days. Having nothing else to do, I help her. As we
work her way around the back of the house we notice my car engine running.
Occasionally I have pushed the remote start by accident but I usually realise
when I have done it. The engine can’t have been running for very long because
the car is not cool inside. I turn it off. About half an hour later Lindsay tells me
the engine is running again. This time I know it’s not accidental. Lindsay gets
out the book of words and discovers there is a programme that starts the car
every so often. I must have set the programme without realising it.
Day 100 – Sunday. Keep Fit is at ten and we turn up at the Galley Bar to find
Bill Dunn sitting there alone. He thinks we ought to clear the top of the Lookout
Trail as it has become badly overgrown. There are only the three of us and we
don’t have access to the tools. I ring Connie and she tells me Keep Fit was
cancelled yesterday. No-one wants to do it after the barbeque. I ring Mark who
has a key to the shed and he brings it down. Lindsay, Bill and I head up to the
top of the trail. It is very overgrown and the tools are not too sharp. On a
couple of occasion I start clearing in the wrong direction the trail is so indistinct.
The grass is three or four feet high for the first couple of hundred yards of the
trail and there is no shade. After about an hour we have cleared a reasonable
path to the trees. Bill says there is a large fallen plant across the trail near the
beginning which needs clearing. We drive to the other end and remove it. We
agree that we have had enough for the day. Calabash is the nearest bar and
we head there for a drink. When we arrive there is a message for me to ring

Mike Rose. I have left my ‘phone in the car and can’t be bother to get it. I will
ring him when we leave.
I ring Mike presuming he wants to say something about the robbery and the
conversation starts on that subject but it soon becomes apparent Mike has an
alternative motive. Someone has dumped two young puppies on their doorstep
and they are hiding under his car. He wants to know if we will take them. We
agree to go and look. A fatal mistake because one has already half made the
decision. Both Lindsay and I agree that if we have one at all it will be only one
dog not both of them. To avoid the suspense, we now have two dogs. When
we arrive the puppies are huddled together under a cupboard which is in front of
the car. I get down on my hands and knees to try to get them out. One, the
female, comes quite willingly and wags her tail as I pick her up. I hand her to
Lindsay and the dog continues to wag its tail and is affectionate and curious.
The second puppy is very reluctant to come out so in the end I have to get hold
of it and drag it out. It is very frightened and shakes the whole time. After a
while I put him on the ground to see if he will calm down. Not a moment too
soon as he immediately began to relieve himself but, as soon as he finished he
was off to hide in the bushes, escaping through a hole in the fence into Mike
and Anne’s back garden where he encountered Nuisance and Ruthie. He
cowers and whimpers nervously until I rescue him. It is evident he is very
frightened. If we are to choose one It would have to be the one Lindsay is
holding, not only has she more personality but also she is the better looking
being black and white whereas he is brown and white. We feel, mainly me,
sorry for the poor frightened puppy who seems to need more care and affection
than the other which is bouncing around quite happily. That’s how we end up
with both.
Mike lends us a cat basket in order for us to transport them, gives us some dog
food and the shampoo we bought to wash Nuisance and Ruthie. Lindsay asks
what we names we should give them and suggests we follow the David
Milligan-Smith tradition. He found a puppy under his car and called it Honda.
Mike and Anne’s car is a Nissan Sunny so the bitch who has the brighter
disposition gets called Sunny and he, Nissan
Back home, she quite readily wanders out of the cat box but he won’t move.
Tempts of water a biscuits are to no avail and we leave him in the box while we
bath her. She is not too keen but is filthy and covered in fleas. We have
decided they are going to have very regular baths so that they get used to them.
It’s his turn and I drag him out of the cage. He is slightly more docile but still
objects to the bath. Despite medicated shampoo, they are still covered in fleas.
Lindsay borrows my car to try to buy some flea powder. Guess who is spending
more time playing with the dogs? A clue - it’s not me.
In the evening several people commiserate with us over the burglary. Those
that live out in Dieppe Bay are most concerned as they never lock their doors, in
fact, one house doesn’t have any doors.

Day 101 – Monday. I’m not sure whether this is really Sunday or Monday. It’s
twenty to one in the morning and the dogs have escaped from the caged area I
created. We put them back and add some reinforcement. Half an hour later
they are out again. They spend the rest of the night locked in the cat basket.
All our good intentions of getting to the garage by eight are thrown completely
awry by the puppies. Sorting them takes too long and we eventually leave at
about half eight. We arrive at the garage and the proprietor takes a look at the
car and says he try to get it started and will report back.
I am supposed to have a 9.30 meeting but postpone it until tomorrow.
Next call is at the vets to have the dogs checked over. What we thought was a
bite on the back of Sunny is, in fact, the dog equivalent of cradle cap and the
scabs need to be removed. Sunny squeals and yelps in pain as it’s done which
hurts me almost as much as it hurts her. Next are the injections. Both dogs
look at us as though we are masochists. For the first time Sunny walk
voluntarily into the cat basket. Nissan has taken to hiding in the basket but as
soon as we put Sunny in she shoots back out again, not this time. Obviously
she now sees it as a place of safety.
We buy a couple of collars and stump up EC$160 and that’s just the beginning
of the expenditure. At Glenn’s Paradise Pet Shop we buy a large kennel, dog
bowls, leads and something for them to chew at EC$650. Kennedy’s Hardware
relieves us of another EC$400 for fencing materials.
We have an hour or so before we have to go out so I start fencing in the
veranda. It’s about a ten foot drop to the ground and I don’t want to lose what I
have invested in these two dogs. When we leave we shut them in their new
kennel.
Last week I had agreed to act as driver on a rum run. A post office in Bolands
Village produces its own rum and not only is it very good it is also cheap. Since
we have never been on one of the rum runs we think it might be a bit of an
experience. It is. The post office looks like something out of the 1920’s and is a
mixture of a general store, off licence, garage (with petrol pump) and a post
office. It has bare wooden floor boards a large wooden counter with shelves
behind, is dimly lit and scruffy. The owner who hails from Madeira places an
unopened bottle of rum on the counter and four small chunky glasses on the
counter. The post office is now beginning to look and feel more like a western
saloon. Apparently, we are supposed to drink the whole bottle before we leave
and it’s free.
The owner disappears to get our rum in gallon bottles at EC$33 each or the
equivalent of less than EC$10 a normal bottle. Considering that in the U.K.
there are 32 measures to a bottle this works out at around six pence per

measure. Compare that with around £2 a measure in the U.K.. Lindsay and I
struggle through three small glasses while the other two finish the bottle. The
post office owner produces a bag of avocados from his garden and some fruit I
have never seen before. We agree to share out the avocados which I love and
Lindsay hates.
On the way back there is an obligatory stop at a local bar. Fortunately, they
don’t serve any spirits but they don’t have soft drinks either. I struggle through
a beer and Lindsay a Smirnov Ice. I am anxious to get home but the others
want to stay for a second. They prevail.
The garage rings, Lindsay’s car engine is wreaked and there isn’t a spare on
the island. As yet they don’t know how much it’s going to cost to fix.
I have made an arrangement to meet Geoff Pidduck before he goes away
sailing for a week or so in order to try to finalise a few details relating to the plot,
most particularly, the price. We take the puppies to show to all the people who
have asked about them. Nuisance and Ruthie are there and all four get on fine
together. Geoff tells me he has sent me an e-mail with all the information I
require and when I tell him he can buy the dogs at US$65,000 each he tells me
that the price he has put in for the land is less than that which sounds good.
Day 102 – Tuesday. The person I am supposed to be meeting today suggests
we meet at four and, during our conversation, tells me she had a similar breakin
about eight months ago. She also has a friend who had a break-in at the
same time. When I tell her that we have heard rumours that it might be a white
girl and a black man she tells me that she and her friend had suspicions of a
meeting that description and she has a name. I tell her that if she gives me a
name I will tell the police without revealing my source. She says she will
consult with her husband.
The e-mail from Geoff Pidduck suggests he will sell us the plot for US$120,000.
It’s about half an acre in plan view but since it drops almost vertically the actual
land area is probably double that. I don’t think I will ever come to terms with the
way they sell land here. He also gives me the number of a builder I want to
show over the site before we commit ourselves. I leave a message on the
builder’s answerphone but discover later he is in the U.K. and not due back until
next week.
I speak to the insurance company and put them in direct contact with the
garage. Unfortunately, the insurance doesn’t cover car hire.
I have been trying to sort out with Virgin the mess up over Lindsay’s ticket and I
get fairly useless e-mails in reply to mine and not answering my questions. I am
told to ring the Contact Centre. I have already tried and all I get is loud music
and an inane voice pretending she’s falling asleep because she is travelling
Upper Class or someone else telling me Virgin is twenty one years old which is

why I have this rubbish 1980’s music rammed into my ears and all at 91p per
minute. I send an e-mail to Virgin to that affect and suggests they get someone
to contact me.
I hear of another burglary in the area. The seventh in a week. Despite the
owners being in the thieves manage to steal a safe from the house unnoticed. I
am beginning to wonder whether they have some form of inside information
although the thieves will be disappointed. The safe was empty. I have had
discussions with people who keep a weapon beside the bed, one a baseball
bat, the other a sabre. I tell them that, in my opinion, you always need a better
weapon than the burglar. If not, having a weapon would probably provoke an
attack. I suggest that if the burglar has a knife the house owner needs a gun
and if the burglars has a gun the owner requires a sub-machine gun. The real
problem is not knowing what the burglar might be carrying therefore, I feel, it is
better to have nothing. In some respects we were quite lucky. I hear of
someone whose house was burnt down after a theft presumably to hide
fingerprints. Despite this spate of thefts, Antigua is still relatively crime free. I
wish I could say the same for the mosquitoes which are out in abundance. It
may be something to do with the garden having been watered. It now looks like
a chocolate cake partially covered in green mildew.
After finishing at the office I go back home to collect Lindsay so she can pick up
a hire car. Apparently, they are going to work out the cost when we return it.
Since they owe us some money I get the impression the terms might be
favourable. That done I continue with the enclosing of the veranda. It’s not
particularly pleasant work as the wire mesh, when cut, has hundreds of very
sharp points. My hands are a mass of punctures and blood is everywhere also,
cutting across a three foot width of one inch mesh squares with wire cutters is
very tedious and produces blisters. As the four o’clock meeting is at the house I
get a couple of hours work done which, with the temporary gate Lindsay
constructed for Nuisance and Ruthie, the puppies are now enclosed.
The garage rings about Lindsay’s car. The cost is going to be over EC$15,000.
As I write this I an unable to move my legs as Nissan, the shy, scared puppy,
rapidly coming out of his shell, has fallen asleep with his head on my feet.
Day 103 – Wednesday. My plan to be at the garage in St. John’s by eight has
gone totally astray. Dealing with feeding, watering and other things two
boisterous puppies need means I don’t arrive until nearly nine. At about twenty
past eight the garage rings to ask where I am. Apart from dealing with
Lindsay’s car, mine is also booked in for a 3,000 mile service. The service will
be done while I wait. I sort out the estimate for the repair to Lindsay’s car then
walk half a mile to the bank to get some cash. I have made the mistake of
wearing my new deck shoes and my heels are rubbed raw.

Service done, which only cost EC$112, about £25 compared to £400 to £500 in
the U.K., I collect the post, buy a ‘baby gate’, carefully explaining to the cashier
that it is for dogs not a baby, and head off to the insurance company. The
insurance clerk takes down, in long hand, a statement from me as to exactly
what happened and asks me to sign it. This is more than the police have done.
He then enters a load of information into the computer, prints it out and asks me
to read it and sign it. Apart from the car details, etc. all it says on the form
relating to the loss/damage is ‘Car Stolen’. This has taken nearly two hours.
While I am there Lindsay rings and says I must buy some flea powder for the
dogs. The vet has told us they are too young for flea treatment. I call at the pet
shop but they having nothing suitable for pets under 12 weeks. I am directed to
a vet around the corner. She sells me a bottle of clear liquid in a plastic bottle
which she says will be fine and charges me EC$20. It’s amazing how things
can appear not to be value for money. If It had been coloured and in a glass
bottle I probably wouldn’t have thought twice about it.
Lindsay administers the clear liquid and the fleas literally jump off in their
hundreds. Both the dogs and we will be a lot happier. Lindsay takes the
opportunity of me being at home to go shopping so I repair the remaining
damaged window before going into the office. Through one cause or another,
work has been a little neglected plus I have a lot of preparation for the Marine
Exhibition.
Lindsay has heard that taking dogs into the sea is a good way to cure fleas and
has already walked them down to the beach near us. Walked is probably not
quite the right phraseology. Lindsay walked, the dogs were carried in a bag
although they did walk most of the way back. They were not too keen on the
waves splashing on the shore so Lindsay has decided to take them to another
beach where she can swim with them. It is only later we are told it is not a good
idea to take dogs into the sea before they are six months old. There is so much
you have to know about this parenting lark.
The baby gate finally secures our veranda so we can have the door open
without either tying the dogs up or constantly chasing them outside. I am not
sure how long it’s going to last, the way they are chewing at it.
As Lindsay is on Galleon Beach and the Tot is at Calabash I agree to meet her
but neither of us is drinking. We are still trying to recover from the rum run on
Monday. David asks what we have done with the avocados. Since he and
Mike were sitting in the back of the car and that’s where I found the avocados a
couple of days later, I blame him but say I will bring them down tomorrow. They
are probably overripe by now.
We try experimenting with not locking the dogs in their kennel. The night is
much more peaceful.

Day 104 – Thursday. One of the avocados is very ripe so I have it with my
breakfast. It’s delicious. I put one more in the ‘fridge and, reluctantly, put the
others in a bag to take to David and Mike. It’s just as well Lindsay doesn’t like
avocado.
Several people have asked for photos of the dogs so here is one. I am
tempted to make the obvious comment but since
Lindsay reads what I have written I’d better play safe. Their characters are
already beginning to show. He is affectionate,
likes to be picked up and cuddled whereas she just wants attention but then she
is female. I think the photo says it all.
Today has been a day of catching up in the office so not much activity for me.
Lindsay comes into the office for a while, curses at the computer which is really
cursing at me because I have changed the mouse and it is jumping all over the
screen or, at least, the cursor is.
The solicitor having advised Alexis that everything was now complete Lindsay
decides to go to St. John’s to give the papers to the bank. I check with the
solicitor. Not everything is complete but since Alexis has left a cheque with us
for the solicitor there is no choice other than for one of us to go. Lindsay
volunteers and asks if there is anything I need. I tell her where she can get
rewritable CDs, rare as hen’s teeth in Antigua, and think she may be able to get
a headset and microphone for the computer so we can, eventually, get around
to using Skype. Lindsay rings me later to say she has the CDs but not the
headset and the cheque Alexis made out has the wrong name on it. The
solicitor is going to try to present it anyway.
I have forgotten the bag of avocados so either I drive home or Lindsay brings
them down to me. She brings them into the office.
Day 105 – Friday. A thunderstorm has blown the electrical system on the entire
island and there is no power when I get into office. My UPS will keep me going
for a while and the building’s UPS just about has enough power for me to deal
with my e-mails. By eleven, I have run out of power and the main supply is still
not on. There is no point in going home as Roger has asked us to join him for
the presentation of the cheque to the Amazing Grace Foundation. His row
around the island raised EC$13,300 and a bit. The press and television are
there for the presentation.
I waste an hour by going to look again at the plot we may buy. The views are
fantastic and on a clear day you can see Guadeloupe, thirty miles away. Ideally,
the site should be developed from the rear but that’s the steepest part. I think I

am putting off a decision because I would prefer the other plot and there is still
no news from the owner.
The power comes back on as we arrive in the office but the new computer will
not start up. After several attempts I go on-line to get some help. It is soon
clear I am connected to India. The person with whom I was in ‘communication’
evidently had no knowledge of geography and despite me saying I was using a
different computer to communicate he/she didn’t seem to understand. After
about two hours during which he/she had me take the computer apart I am told
to take it to an Apple agent as some board has blown which can’t be replaced
by the customer. I point out there isn’t an Apple agent in Antigua. I am then
asked for my nearest city which I say is Miami. The response is to request my
Miami Zip Code. My patience is wearing a bit thin. I point out that Miami is
around 1,000 miles away and is in another country. The reply tells me there
isn’t an Apple agent in Antigua and directs me to the Apple website to find an
agent. I ask for a reference number for my ‘call’ but the person on the other end
has gone.
I pick a telephone number from the Apple website of a store in Miami and ring.
After the usual push button messages I end up with music and a voice telling
me I have a wait of eight minutes or less. I wait and speak to representative
who checks all the details, reads the report of my on-line contact and starts to
give me advice on what to do. I point out I have already been through all this
procedure and I wish to arrange to send the computer to a store in Miami. He
suggest I ring one of the stores. I point out that I have done precisely that. I
have ended up with India again because I pressed one of the numbers which
said ‘technical assistance’.
I have remembered that Alexis has a friend over from the U.S.. I ring him and
ask if the friend will take the computer back with him. He agrees.
A major problem is that one of our advertisers has failed to provide an
advertisement. She tells me that their agent is on the missing list. I had
prepared an advertisement bur couldn’t e-mail it as there was no power in the
building other than my UPS. The advert. is now stuck in the broken computer. I
debate whether to leave it until Monday or start all over again.
When creating an advertisement, most of the time taken is in the thought
process, working out styles, subject matter, finding pictures – usually on the
internet, etc.. Having done it once it is a lot quicker but more tedious to do it a
second time. Somehow, the create fun has gone. It takes me about an hour to
regenerate it and I send it off for approval.
There is an Extraordinary General Meeting at the Yacht Club and we have
decided to go. I get there a few minutes before it starts. The Club is quite
wealthy and there are plans to expand the foreshore by using dredged material
to extend it out. The measure is approved unanimously.

At the meeting is the owner of the piece of land we really want to buy. I pick my
moment and tackle him. He has heard nothing of his existing purchasers and
resumes that they have ‘disappeared’ but he is leaving for a week and says he
will talk to me on his return.
Day 106 – Saturday. It’s not even 9 o’clock by the time I have finished
sharpening all the Tot Club Keep Fit tools which I do with a grinder and,
because it’s a 240 volt grinder, I do it while the generator is running, hence, so
early. I tell Lindsay I don’t know what I am going to do with the rest of the day.
There’s a large, unsightly pile of wood under one corner of the house which has
just bee piled randomly. I decide to tidy up the pile, partly because I have been
trying to consider how to make it dog proof and partly because the sight of it
offends me. The pieces of wood vary in size from a full 10’ x 6’ sheet of
shuttering ply to lengths of 2” x 1” no more than a foot or so long. I sort the
timber into lengths and area dependent upon whether they are pieces of ply or
strips of timber. It takes me about two hours to sort it into approximately four
piles. I say approximately because the piles overlapped somewhat. In the
course of removing timber I come across a scorpion, half dead, presumably I
have squashed it in moving pieces of wood.
I stack the wood back in an orderly fashion trying to keep the pile a rectangle
and with wood of the same thickness and length on each layer which takes
about three hours with increasing breaks. It becomes harder as the pile grows
and the remaining pieces of wood become more and more varied. It’s a bit like
doing a jigsaw puzzle without a pattern. When I have finished I reckon I have
moved at least a ton of wood – twice. The pile of wood, which now looks
reasonably respectable, measures 11’ x 6’ x 3’ and if that volume doesn’t weigh
a ton I will be most surprised. Before anyone wonders why I should measure it,
I now need to fence it in to make it dog proof but that will have to wait. I finish
stacking the wood just in time to take a shower and change to go to the Tot
which is being held at the yacht club.
When we arrive at the yacht club yesterday the barrier to the car park was down
which, I had been told would not be happening until November therefore we did
not need a remote opening device until then. It is closed again tonight. I
enquire as to the change in policy and I am advised that the general public have
begun to use it as a car park. In fact, one woman left her car there overnight,
had it broken into and complained to the yacht club. She was not even a
member. Fortunately, a new batch of remote controls have come in and I am
able to obtain one.
Day 107 – Sunday. Only four of us for Keep Fit so we decide to tackle a trail we
did two weeks ago. It is amazing how overgrown it has become in that short
time. The sharpened tools make a tremendous difference and someone has
brought a strimmer ore, as they call them here, a weedwhacker. As someone

who maintained that water was good for only two purposes, sailing on and
occasionally putting in whisky, I find I get through about a litre in the two hours
we work at Keep Fit. After yesterday’s exertions I am finding it a bit of an effort
but get into my stride when I come across two small trees which, under the
weight of their foliage, have bent across the trail, completely blocking it. My
newly sharpened machete makes short work of them.
At the bar after we have finished I order a Ting (grapefruit drink) and Lindsay a
lager. The waitress give Lindsay the Ting and me the lager. Lindsay points out
that the ‘girlie’ drink is for me.
I spend the afternoon fencing in the wood pile and by the time I have finished I
could do with a drink. Lindsay wants to give the Tot a miss but I suggest we
can be brief and collect a DVD on the way back. It’s Lindsay’s turn for the
‘girlie’ drink. She has a fruit punch.
We are watching the DVD when Lindsay draws my attention to one of the dogs
bouncing up and down against the built-in sofa on the veranda. The seat is
about two foot six from the ground and, as yet, the dogs can’t get onto it. There
is something on the sofa which, with her poor long distance eyesight, Lindsay
presumes is one of the toy bones we have bought the dogs. I recognise it
immediately for what it is – a tarantula. It about this size of a small coffee cup
saucer, fat and hairy and moves surprisingly quickly. I have no idea whether
tarantulas out here are benign cuddly creatures or poisonous and I am not
about to find out particularly with one that seems quite agitated. I tell Lindsay to
grab the dogs and I chase the tarantula with a fly swat eventually flipping it off
the veranda. I grab a torch and go down stairs where I see it running across the
path we laid. It stops and sticks it’s head down between two blocks. It is
probably more frightened than me but I can’t take any risks and pick up a spade
and dispatch it. It seems as though I am becoming quite a killer of local wild
life.
Day 108 – Monday. I have come to the conclusion that unless you live next
door to an Apple store, don’t buy an Apple computer. I am given the complete
run around for about three hours on the telephone where I receive more
misinformation than help. I am told everything from ‘get the machine to a store’
in Miami through ‘we will send a box to have picked up’ to ‘there is no way we
will repair it in the U.S.’. I am given e-mail addresses which either go
unanswered or bounce back. Eventually, I am told that I need to contact the
store I bought it from in London. When I do that, the manager is on holiday and
they can’t help. Having been told that the U.S. can’t help I try ringing Apple
U.K.. B.T. tells me they are no longer connecting to that number. I try the Irish
headquarters of Apple Europe but receive no reply. Finally, I get through to a
U.K. number where a man with an Irish accent, so I presume I am connected to
the European headquarters in Ireland, where I am told that since it is a desktop
computer that if I read the small print in my warranty, I have to return the
computer to the place of purchase. Somewhere in this small print it apparently

says they will pay for collection. I haven’t read it yet but I bet it only applies to
the country of purchase. All this has wasted half my day but at least the power
stayed.
Alexis is supposed to be in the office but, yesterday when tying his boat to the
mangroves before leaving for Europe, he stepped on a clam shell and sliced his
foot open requiring five stitches. He is not able to walk but promises to appear
at the office tomorrow.
Being back to one computer, Lindsay comes in at lunch time to do some
accounts which are on a system I don’t understand and are produced in a userunfriendly
format. They are presented like end of year accounts except
continually updated. In order to check the cash flow and the balance of the bank
you still need a calculator to extract the figures from the balance sheet. The
programme was obviously designed by an accountant and not a businessman.
I am tempted to install the spreadsheet system I designed for myself in the U.K.
which told me instantly the balance at the bank, the year to date totals of
income and expenditure including total on their sources, a running profit/loss
total together with anticipated income, all at a glance. I spend half an hour
pouring over the figures Lindsay has given me before I can make any sense of
them and I still don’t know why they show the bank balance as minus precisely
the amount it is in credit. Hector used to have a derogatory phrase for
accountants and, at this precise moment, I wish I could remember it.
Having prepared all the documents for the Marine Exhibition the easiest way to
transfer them onto the Marine Association’s computer is to put them on disk and
take them over. I do this but for some peculiar reason, they all need
reformatting once installed. The only one which transfers without a problem is
an html. document. In future I think I will format them all as htmls. as they all
have to be e-mailed.
I get back to the office in time for a meeting with Callie regarding the exhibition
and then go onto a meeting at the Marine Association where we are to present
our proposals. It is one of the worst meetings I have ever attended. After an
hour and a half we are on item 2 on the agenda with seven more to go. There
is no Chairman therefore the Secretary, an employee, has to try to chair it.
Unfortunately, it is impossible. Jenetta cannot stay on the subject for more than
thirty seconds and wanders off onto all kinds of irrelevant matters and no-one
brings her back or shuts her up. Angelo, a very enthusiastic Italian whose heart
and money is very much behind the Association cannot stop talking at very high
speed and no-one even tries to interrupt him. As the meeting drifts further and
further away from the subject it touches on other peoples areas of responsibility
and they have their say and we still haven’t finished dealing with item two on the
agenda.
We are item three on the agenda and it is suggested we postpone the
discussion until another day. I am reminded of when Hector was Rear-

commodore Racing. If it was getting near closing time at the Hand in Hand,
Hector would rush the remainder of the agenda and close the meeting. Having
sat through an hour and a half of waffle I point out we need some decisions and
Callie launches into everything we have done and what we need from the
Committee. Fortunately, we get a few sensible suggestions and decisions. It
does mean some reworking of some of our plans but not too much.
At the meeting I meet, for the first time, an advertiser who still hasn’t submitted
his advert.. He asks how things are going. I tell him fine except that we are still
awaiting one person’s advert. (not entirely true since we are still awaiting
approval of the advert., in desperation, I designed and the Mount Gay Rum
advertisement). He promises to send it tomorrow.
I need a drink.
Day 109 – Tuesday.
I have to visit with Callie the people who supply the marquee for the Marine
Exhibition. The company is located in one of the old plantation houses on the
east side of the island. Callie, being American, is very keen to see this ‘old’
house. It’s probably about two hundred years old and a bit of a disappointment
to me. It has a corrugated tin roof. Callie insists on showing me parts of the
island on the east side I have never seen. When I talk to Lindsay later she has
visited then in the past, presumably when I have been sailing.
I have asked Lindsay to wait in the office for the FedEx collection of the
computer to send it back to the U.K.. When I return it still hasn’t been collected.
I had been given a reference number – L5, but it was described to me as Lester
5. I guess the FedEx agent is an Antigua Labour Party Supporter (no loner in
power) as the last Prime Minister was Lester Bird.
Lindsay rings from St. John's to say there is a parcel for collection. After she
rings off it suddenly occurs to me what is in the parcel. I am right and a worse
person couldn't have been sent to collect it. She nearly throws it in the bin as
she leaves the Post Office. Probably the fact that she has to pay $1 for storage
prevents her from doing so. It is the Teddy bear we rescued from the sea years
ago when racing off Brighton. After being rescued from a watery grave, the
Teddy was tied to the mast on the green Jagga. We relented when he was
moved to the Sigma and tied him below although he had to suffer the indignity
of wearing a pair of red, frilly knickers which appeared on the boat from
somewhere - no questions asked. Lindsay made me leave Teddy behind and
Tina took custody of him. Obviously, he was missing me so Tina has sent him
out here.
As my main computer is now defunct and Alexis is leaving for five weeks I need
to download everything from Alexis’s computer onto my laptop. Alexis is
incapacitated at home so I drive out to his house which is rather remote and

down some horrible roads. I am quite impressed with myself as I find his house
without difficulty despite having been there only once last March. I am less
impressed with myself when I realise I have left the cheque book in the office
and, as the banks still haven’t sorted themselves out, Alexis is still the only one
who can sign cheques.
I need some petrol and the diesel cans for the generator are empty so I go
home to collect them. On my return I suggest to Lindsay that she comes with
me to Alexis’s house. I think she agrees with me. The location is lovely but we
couldn’t cope with those roads. We arrive back in ‘civilisation’ at about quarter
to six and we can turn right to go home or left to go to the Tot. I ask Lindsay.
It’s at Calabash and she likes Calabash so we turn left. It turns intone of those
evening plus we are told there is a pâté competition tomorrow night. I have
never made pâté but a challenge is a challenge.
Day 110 – Wednesday. The final advert. has arrived. It’s the Mount Gay ad..
As I open it I see a photo of yachts racing in Chesapeake Bay (supposedly but
as one of them has an Antiguan sail number I think it unlikely. This is the
bottom half of the advert. I scroll up to the top half of the advert. and there is a
photo of boats racing off Dickenson Bay except it’s not. It a photo of the start of
a race off Falmouth in Sailing Week 2004. One might ask how I know this so
clearly. Right in the middle of the photo is a yacht with the sail number IRL
3000. For the few who might have forgotten, that was Jagga’s sail number. I
know I am going to be accused of having chosen the photo but nothing could be
further from the truth. The advertising agent is in Barbados and he must have
chosen the photo from a selection he was given by the photographer.
I have had a call from someone I spoke to several weeks ago about the poor
quality of beer on the island. I had told her that there are far better beers than
John Smiths such as Youngs. She tells me she is importing Youngs Bitter and
Abbot Ale. Things are looking up.
Lindsay comes into the office around mid-morning and, when she leaves at
lunch time I ask her to collect some chicken livers from the local supermarket
saying I still have half an hour or so to do in the office. Lindsay rings me and
tells me that the supermarket has sold out of chicken livers. Obviously there
are a number of keen pâté makers around. In the end I don’t finish until around
three and drive to St. John’s to buy my livers, arriving home after four.
I have never cooked pâté in my life. Apparently, you are supposed to leave it
24 hours and I have less than two until the competition. Lindsay has
downloaded a recipe from the internet but, apart from the livers, we don’t have
any of the ingredients. I decide on a rum, raisin and peach pâté plus another on
flavoured with whisky and chopped almonds finished off with a dash of Baileys.
Lindsay likes the rum and raisin and I like the whisky but, needless to say, I
don’t win the competition. It is won by someone who used to be a professional
chef although it was a close result between three pâtés.

Lindsay decides the dogs are getting lonely so we take them with us. Nissan is
not very keen on the car and curls up under Lindsay’s feet whereas Sunny is
bouncing around trying to look out the windows. When we get to Calabash
there are five other dogs and it’s mayhem. Our two are a cross between being
excited and unsure. Eventually, Nissan gets so worn out he curls up on my lap
and goes to sleep but Sunny is ready to carry on partying all night.
Day 111 – Thursday. I spend the whole day in the office proof reading the
magazine on the internet. I am staggered at how many corrections are
necessary. What I had planned to do in a couple of days is going to take a
week. Out of 111 pages I have proofed thirty six by the end of the day. This is
not only to do with the corrections but also as a result of the internet being very
slow. My upload and download speeds are varying between 1,525 kps and 16
kps. One 16mg file takes 19 minutes and 52 seconds to upload. Cable and
Wireless insist there is nothing wrong..
Whilst waiting for a file o upload I think I might get a drink from the store next
door. I am interrupted in my intention by the landlord which is just as well as a
couple of minutes later the heavens open with the most massive downpour. II
would have been halfway to the shop.
Lindsay arrives at lunch time with a cheese and pâté sandwich. Although I say
it myself, it is delicious and I could have done with another one.
An e-mail from Rob and Amanda asks if we can get any roach traps and if I
want them to bring me any cigars. I offer to do a deal and exchange cigars for
traps. I add that I had better pay them some cash as well otherwise I might not
get many cigars.
A call to the insurance company produces no more news on Lindsay’s car.
When I point out that it’s been nearly two weeks I am told that’s quick for
Antigua. I respond that he is not paying the hire charges and that if he was then
it might be a bit quicker. Apparently, his boss is on at a conference and won’t
be back until Monday so he can’t do anything until then. He tells me there are
different scenarios. When I ask what he means he tells me the car was stolen.
I think I already realised that.
I had promised myself that I wasn’t going to put too much in about the dogs but
it’s impossible not to. They are growing quite quickly and, whilst Sunny is
everyone’s favourite because she is so pretty and friendly, Nissan is turning out
to be quite different. He is becoming quite muscularly and walks around like
Mark Foley (for those of you who know him), first one shoulder in front then the
other with his body following on behind. Lindsay reckons that with his stature
he could win Cruffs. Funny how her attitude to dogs has changed.

Shrieks from the kitchen. There must be more wildlife around. It’s a cricket.
Quite a large one which, now having realised it’s harmless, Lindsay is trying to
capture in a polythene bag. It jumps six foot every time she goes near it. I
throw a tea towel over it and liberate it over the veranda. It’s just as well the
moth, which must weigh half a pound, has remained asleep on the veranda
wall. It’s bigger than many birds and I don’t fancy Lindsay’s reaction when it
starts flying around.
Whilst on the subject of wildlife, I have been told that tarantulas bite quite nastily
but not dangerously but to keep an eye on shoes where they have a habit of
nesting. The dangerous ones are the peachy orange spiders, one of which I
came across not long after our furniture arrived. Hopefully that one expired
when I fumigated the room where the furniture is stored.
Day 112 – Friday. Callie and I have a meeting with the Nicholson’s regarding
Charter Yacht Show and the exhibition which is due to start at ten. Callie
arrives at 9.30 so I haven’t had time to do much work. I have plans to go to
town but by the time the meeting is over and I have sorted a few things out with
the Marine association, it has gone twelve.
One good thing which came out of the meeting is that the organisers are looking
for a new advertising agent for next year’s show and ask if I am interested. The
answer is a definite yes.
My first call is at the bank followed by an electrical store to get headphones and
a microphone so I can use Skype on my computer. I installed it a week ago
(something I should have done months ago) in order to make cheap
international calls. I also buy a strimmer or weedwhacker as they call them
here plus some steel fence posts to finish the dogs garden plus visit the
supermarket. Lindsay has the post box key so I can’t check the mail. I had
hoped to do all this without venturing into St. John’s centre however deciding
not to draw cash from a cashier in the bank and wait ten minutes or so for it to
arrive, I go to use the cash machine. It is out of order. Rather than go back in I
drive into St. John’s to use another machine.
My visit to the electrical store has a spin-off benefit. I have been trying to
source a large screen T.V. for the exhibition. There is one in the middle of the
store. I have come to know the manager quite well during my various visits to
sort out numerous electrical problems. I ask if I can borrow to T.V. and he
agrees. Numerous telephone calls elsewhere had drawn a blank. All I have to
do now is source the air conditioning which I am hopeful of doing on Monday.
I need a petrol can for the weedwhacker but the main automotive store has sold
out. Eventually I find one in a hardware store but I am past the last petrol
station. I will have to collect some from Slipway. By the time I am back home
to unload the car it’s gone three.

On my way to the office I notice a pig on the hanging tree. I ring Lindsay and
ask if I ought to buy some. It’s a small pig and the man who evidently is a
butcher offers me a quarter. It weighs eleven pounds and he charges me
EC$66, around £14. I take it back home where Lindsay is a bit horrified by the
size. We may be eating pork for some time to come.
When I arrive at Slipway for my two gallons of petrol there is a boat filling up
with 144 gallons. I have a long wait. Eventually, my two gallon can is filled with
1.75 gallons. It’s an American can.
By the time I get back to the office, it’s gone four and I manage to proof read a
few more pages. I am now more than halfway through. I also get a chance to
look at how the new website is progressing. The results are impressive and as
soon as it is ready I hope to start selling advertising on it. I check the headset
and microphone but it has two plugs and I have only one socket. It suddenly
occurs to me that I have a built-in microphone and speakers in the computer
and don’t need the headset. I try a few calls and speak to Alex who keeps me
on the ‘phone for about ten minutes. At 1.2p per minute, I don’t really care.
Day 113 – Saturday. I have a real problem with Nissan. Giving the dogs their
breakfast he viciously attacks Sunny and frightens her so much she won’t come
near her food. I encourage her back as he finishes his and he launches another
attack. This time he gets a severe slap from me, yelps and skulks off into a
corner. I think he is going to need a few lessons in table manners.
A few days ago I mentioned to Roger that the next time he goes into town I will
drive him and he can show me the best butcher in the meat market. Last night
he suggested today so I have agreed to pick him up at 9.30. I have a few
unfinished things in the office which can’t wait until Monday so I spend an hour
dealing with those before picking up Roger.
The main purpose in going to the meat market is to get a piece of strip loin.
They don’t have any so I end up with 4lbs of rump steak at EC$26, about £6. I
think we are going to eat well this week. Roger has a few things to do and there
are a couple of shops I want to visit. I am still trying to get a VHS player to play
U.K. videos. We agree to meet at a bar and I am there first. The bar is closed
and I don’t have Roger’s mobile number. When we do meet up he tells me that
one of his tasks was to buy a new mobile ‘phone as he lost his a couple of days
ago. Having his number would not have helped.
Walking down the street I feel my ‘phone vibrate in my pocket. It’s my message
service. Amanda has left me a message. For some reason I didn’t hear it ring
or feel it vibrate when she called. She is returning my call. I had left a message
when checking out my new Skype connection. I didn’t expect her to call back.
On the way back I buy two individual dog bowls so we can separate them when
feeding.

After dropping off Roger, I go back to the office to shut things down and give
Amanda a call on Skype. Whilst talk I try the headset with one plug. It works
and it eliminates the echo.
There is another cooking competition as it’s the last day Calabash is open
before they go on their summer break. Rather than make them cook it’s
decided that everyone will make a chilli. Lindsay enters an effort on our behalf.
There are seven different varieties all of which are very eatable except one
which is so hot you can’t taste anything for ten minutes. Much to her surprise,
Lindsay wins.
Day 114 – Sunday. A lazy start to the day as there is no Keep Fit. After my
exertions of yesterday, I am not displeased but I still have some fencing to do. I
put that off for a while and help Lindsay while she baths the dogs and tries to
control what seems to be an increasing flea problem. The liquid the vet gave us
doesn’t seem to be working very well. On closer examination, we realise that
it’s not a flea problem but one of tics. There are hundreds of tiny little ones and
the only way to remove them is with a pair of tweezers. Some of them try to
‘abandon ship’ and I squash them. They make an interesting pop as they burst.
I leave Lindsay to it. Not only does she seem to be fascinated by the total
quantity and is determined to remove them all, I tell her it helps her to bond with
the dogs.
Lindsay has the easy task, mine is to finish the fencing but before doing so, I
de-bone and roll the leg of pork and stick it in the oven. The bones I boil up and
the dogs can have them later.
The problem with this fencing is that everything is so sharp yet fiddly. It’s either
a question of constantly putting on and taking off gloves or suffering the cuts
and leaving them off. In the end I opt for the latter. By the end of the afternoon,
the fencing is complete and all that remains is for me to construct two gates
which I can’t do until Sandy returns since I need his permission to fix them to
the walls of the house.
The dogs think Christmas, New Year and all their birthdays have come together
when I give them the bones. I frequently take the bones away so that the get
used to not being too possessive about them. After the incident with Nissan
and the food I am very keen that they learn to be handled when they are eating.
The two bowls are working out well and Nissan is learning that he is not allowed
near Sunny’s bowl even when she has finished.
We settle down to an evening of cold pork and a DVD. The generator has been
running for about an hour and it’s time to turn it off. Because we seem to get a
surge when the generator is turned off, I always disconnect the T.V. and DVD
player first. I switch off the generator and everything goes pitch black. Nothing
is working and the inverter will not reset itself. To make matters worse, the

generator will not restart. When I get back upstairs Lindsay has half a dozen
candles going. Not only can we now not watch the rest of the DVD but, without
electricity, we can’t eject it from the machine to return it to the shop.
It looks like an early night except that without electricity we have no water pump
and, therefore, no water. A quick wash with what’s in the pipes and cleaning
teeth from bottled water is the most we can manage.
Day 115 – Monday. Still no electricity so no water. I do suggest to Lindsay that if
I don’t get things sorted I can run the garden hose through the bathroom
window and we can shower under that in turns. She points out that it may be a
bit difficult since one of us will need to go outside to turn off the water. A minor
inconvenience which might give the neighbours something to talk about.
I am in the office by six in order to ring the computer shop in the U.K. as early
as possible. When I eventually get hold of someone I am told that that there is
no-one in the workshop because it’s a Bank Holiday and I must ring back
tomorrow.
Back home to load the generator into the car but it’s not as easy, if easy is the
right word, as it was before. Now that Sandy has had the topsoil laid and a
lawn planted, I can no longer drive around the house to the room housing the
generator. Lindsay and I manhandle it around the house and onto the ramp I
have set up into the rear of the car. I am getting too old for this kind of physical
effort. When I arrive at the generator supplier one of the workmen asks how I
managed to get it into the car. I tell him Lindsay and I did it. He replies that she
must be very large as it takes four of them to get it out. I let him into the secret
of my ramp.
They work on the generator for an hour and a half, don’t find anything wrong
with it and load it back into the car. I am about ten minutes from home when my
‘phone rings. It’s Callie. I am supposed to be meeting her at ten and it’s now
five past. I had completely forgotten. I tell her I will be with her in five minutes.
Fortunately, I am due to meet her to look at some furniture which is close to
where I am. That done I take the generator home and we re-install it. I run it for
an hour which gives me a chance to have a shower and get ready for the office.
As I leave I turn it off and all the electricity goes. Nothing I do will start it again.
Lindsay still hasn’t had a shower. The number of the supplier is in the office so
I tell Lindsay I will ring them. By the time I get to the office Lindsay has
managed to get the generator going and reset the inverter so we have
electricity. I telephone the supplier anyway and he sends his brother to look at
it. He gets it going but after he leaves and Lindsay turns off the generator it all
fails again.
As Tot Club Rum Steward for the week I am obliged to be there and, having
picked this week to avoid any alcohol (I feel I have been slipping into the habit
of drinking too easily) I find it a bit difficult to stay around afterwards apart from
which I want to try to sort out the generator. I think I know what the problem

might be. With some effort which includes jump leads and a borrowed jump
start pack I get it started but Lindsay wants me to turn it off in case we lose all
the electricity. Reluctantly, I agree and say I will have another go in the
morning.
We still have the DVD so we watch the rest of it. When it ends, ever conscious
of how much electricity we are using Lindsay tells me to turn it off. I press the
red button on the remote and the whole thing shuts down with the DVD still
inside and it won’t turn on again. Despite pushing every button the player will
do nothing. I pick it up to see if there is a reset button anywhere. There isn’t
but I can feel the disk still spinning inside. A bit of brute force and intelligence,
i.e. a hard thump, soon has thing put right.
The electricity lasts all night but without the fan which draws too much power.
Day 116 – Tuesday. Despite me saying I would start the generator this morning
Lindsay objects so I don’t and go to the office instead.
I try to contact the computer company in the U.K. without any real success.
People promise to ring back but never do. I have a meeting at ten regarding the
Marine Exhibition which goes on until 12.30. It really is beginning to intrude into
my time. When everyone has gone I try the computer store again but still
cannot get any information.
Calls to the insurance company about Lindsay’s car, the solicitor about
paperwork we are still awaiting and a builder we want to look at a site for us
gets me nowhere, however, the architect agrees to meet me at 3.15.
Lindsay arrives with lunch after which I go to fill up with petrol and see if I can
buy a nut which, I think, will solve our generator problems. I get the petrol but
not the nut. Perhaps I should explain what I think is the problem with the
generator. The ignition key is similar to a car’s in that it springs back once the
engine has started. The nut holding it in place is made of plastic and has worn
which means the ignition stays in start mode even when the engine is running.
As a result the generator is not charging sufficiently and the inverter,
recognising a low current, cuts out. I proved the point yesterday when I ran the
generator without cutting off the inverter. A new nut will assist me in starting
rather than having to jam a screwdriver into the barrel of the ignition to hold it in
place.
At 3.15 we meet the architect and drive up to the plot. We show him the top
half first and he is not impressed by the slope. We drive around to the bottom
half and come a cross a car parked in our way almost at the end of the road. It
has darkened windows but even through them you can tell there is panic going
on inside. We have obviously disturbed a couple who thought they were
perfectly safe in an unused road which goes nowhere. I have no choice but to
park behind them, blocking them in.

I try to show the architect the lower part of the site where the ground is more
level. It means climbing a fifteen foot bank and he declines to follow me. He
tells us he wouldn’t even contemplate considering the site without a contour
survey. In passing he mentions another site which might come up for sale
which he says it much easier to build on. He takes my card and says he will let
me know.
After doing my duty at the Tot we return home and I want to start the generator
but Lindsay objects. I argue that there is no point in having a generator if we
don’t use it. The whole purpose in buying it was to allow us to use electricity
whenever we need it. I agree to leave it until morning.
Day 117 – Wednesday. Despite objections from you know who, I attempt to
start the generator but the battery, brand new, is flat. Jump leads, starter pack
and different batteries produces no result. Nothing has enough power to turn it
over. The only solution is to get a battery charger. We have two somewhere
amongst or stored possessions but a quick look produces nothing. The key to
the ignition switch has a captive ring around it which makes locking the barrel in
place difficult. Lindsay looks in horror as I take a hacksaw to the ring but it
make my life easier.
The only solution is to drive to St. John’s and buy a battery charger. On the
way into town I call in at the generator supplier. He gives me a couple of
washers for the ignition switch and an isolator for the battery. I notice in his
store room a couple of battery chargers and buy one. Unfortunately, he doesn’t
take credit cards. The charger is EC$350 and I only have EC$340 on me. He
takes that. I still have to go into town. All my cash having gone I need to go to
the bank.
This charger is quite a piece of kit and so it should be at the price. It will start a
car without charging, charge at high speed and low speed and charge 6 volts
the only problem is, I don’t have a plug anywhere near the generator and our
extension leads are all U.K.. This is not normally a problem since all our power
tools have U.K. plugs. No combination of plug adapters will sort a connection
between a power socket, the extension leads and the battery charger. I decide
to disconnect the battery and carry it to the charger and go to the office.
Going to the office is a bit pointless as, after about an hour, the power goes off.
Not normally too much of a problem as I can carry on with the UPS for about an
hour and a half but since everything I am doing is on the internet and the
building’s UPS has a life of only 15 minutes, there is not much I can do once
that runs out which it does in the middle of some e-mail correspondence.
It’s about lunch time so, for a change, I go home. It also gives me a chance to
reconnect the battery and try the generator. I also install the isolator switch
except it isn’t that simple. The hole in the terminal of the lead to the battery is

too small for the isolator switch. Anyone who has tried to enlarge a hole in a
piece of metal, particularly one on the end of a piece of wire, knows how difficult
it is. At least I can use my ordinary extension lead as my drill has a U.K. plug
on it. Job done I connect everything up and it all works fine except that I have
to put my hand up inside the generator to hold the back of the ignition switch as
I turn it on the front. A little later, when I turn off the generator, the inverter cuts
out. I am now firmly of the opinion that there is a fault with the inverter and not
the generator.
The power does not come back on in the office until four and I am now rushing
to finish everything before doing my duty at the Tot. I just manage to complete
the first proofing of the magazine over the internet.
Day 118 – Thursday. Various non-productive telephone calls and one semiproductive
and lengthy conversation with the architect. He is not keen on the
site we have tentatively chosen and recommends several people to talk to
about others. He also mentions a site owned by an English couple who have
left the island but he doesn’t know how to contact them. He knows they live in
Spain and are still involved in yachting. I do a search on the internet and track
down two companies he has worked for and a magazine in Majorca for which
his wife has written an article. I e-mail them all asking for contact information.
The architect turns out to have been employed by the people who were buying
the plot we really want. He fell out with them when they wouldn’t pay him. It
looks more and more likely that they are not proceeding but it is difficult to
convince the vendor.
I contact the various people the architect recommends and agree to meet one
at ten. He doesn’t turn up. I have an eleven o’clock meeting and leave. He
rings me as I get back to the office and I tell him I shall be at least an hour and
that I will try to squeeze him in before my next appointment at one. My meeting
goes on until 12.45.
My one o’clock is with a builder and I show him the steep site. Sometimes I
think some people on this island think that every newcomer is a fool. He quotes
such a ridiculous price that I just walk away in disgust.
The computer company in the U.K. has e-mailed me something I need to
complete my work on the Marine Guide. Somehow I had failed to save one
advert. to my laptop and it would be the one which failed to upload properly. I
now have it but still no news on when my computer will be ready.
It’s not my day for dealing with idiots. I go back to the plot where I had originally
agreed to meet the owner at ten just in case he is still there. Much to my
surprise, he is. Talking to him I realise I shouldn’t be surprised since if I had
been prepared to pay his price, nearly double the going rate, his wait would
have been worthwhile.

I am cooking a curry for dinner so I have told Lindsay I will come home early
and prepare it before going to the Tot. When we get back home I realise I have
left the book of Naval history readings on the table in the Life bar. I telephone
and, after a tortuous explanation, get them to put the book away for me. I hope.
Day 119 – Friday. The usual round of telephone calls to the solicitor and the
insurance company without much success. I am not able to speak to anyone.
As there is nothing to do on the Marine Guide so I spend the day working on the
Marine Expo, most specifically on the advertising we doing to promote it. I
design three different ads., one of which I tell Lindsay is ‘completely off the wall’.
She says my idea of ‘off the wall’ is likely to be very different from her’s but she
is quite impressed when she sees it. I think the Marine Association will be a bit
too conservative to use it.
Geoffrey sends me lots of e-mails trying to talk me into buying his plot and, in
the end, I agree to meet him on Tuesday.
I have one remaining thing to do on the generator before I am completely
satisfied. I need a one inch diameter nut to hold the ignition switch in place. I
have found one at Slipway but it is a course thread and half an inch thick. I
cannot find a slimmer, fine thread anywhere. In the end I decide to buy the
course thread nut, I can force it on as the barrel of the switch is plastic, but I will
have to cut it in half in order to get the key into the ignition.
By late afternoon I manage to speak to the solicitor but she has not managed to
get any further with the non-existent Registrar of Companies. I ask her a few
questions about the Antigua legal system which is based, loosely, on the
English system. I want to know if I can issue proceedings, personally, against
the insurance company. It can be done in a similar way to the U.K. but has to
be done through the High Court.
I telephone the insurance company and I am given the run around again so I
write them a letter which I fax to them. I advise them that unless I receive
confirmation by 1700 0n Monday that they have instructed the repairers I will go
ahead with the repairs and sue them. Monday should be interesting.
When we get to Life to organise the Tot, the books are fortunately there so my
message evidently did get through.
Day 120 – Saturday. Lindsay goes off for a run early and I sit down with a
grinder to cut the nut in half. It takes me about an hour. As the generator has
been running it is too hot for me to install it. Soon after Lindsay reappears with
a dog in tow. It’s quite an elderly Doberman and evidently quite exhausted.
Lindsay thinks it’s name is Clive but, although very friendly, it doesn’t seem to
respond to the name. Apparently, as Lindsay ran past a place called Marsh

Village, about three miles from us, the dog joined her. He followed her up to
Shirley Heights, best part of another couple of miles and then all the way back
past Marsh Village to our house. The dog must have run six or seven miles. As
Lindsay passed Marsh Village for the second time she thought someone called
out the name ‘Clive’.
The dog drinks copious amounts of water and wanders around the outside of
the house as if he owns it. I am beginning to think we may end up with a third
dog. I try to entice him into the car but he is having none of it. I attach a lead to
him and prompt him into the car where he stands on the passenger seat.
Driving him the several miles to where I presume he lives is a bit of a nightmare
as he nearly falls off the seat with every bump. I have to hold him with one
hand and drive with the other in the meantime he slobbers all over the inside of
my car.
I arrive at Marsh Village, park in the forecourt of a bar and ask if anyone knows
the dog. I am directed 200 yards up the road where I meet the man who yelled
‘Clive’ as Lindsay went by. Clive is the dog’s name. Apparently, Clive’s owner
is seriously ill in hospital and the dog is obviously lonely. I am tempted to take
him back again as he is such a nice natured dog but even I am not that foolish.
I leave Clive with a tinge of regret, tied to a gate post. I look for him when we
return a little later but he has gone.
The inside of my car needs a clean and Clive forces me into it. I should clean
the outside and, as I have a pressure washer, it would be easy but then I would
be depriving Jacko of his weekly con of EC$15 from me to smear the mud all
over the bodywork.
We need to fumigate the house again and have to go out for three hours. We
decide to take the dogs to the beach and put them in the water as everyone
tells us it’s a good way to control tics and fleas. This is the first time I have
been in the water voluntarily for several years. The dogs prove to be natural
swimmers but have the same attitude as me. All they want to do is head for the
beach. To waste some time we go to the yacht club for a drink and find it
completely empty.
We still have to wait another half an hour after we have opened the house for it
to air. The only dead things I can find are hornets. I use the half hour to fit the
nut to the generator’s ignition switch except it takes longer as I don’t have the
right tools.
Walter, the owner of the café below the office which due to open soon,
telephones. We have been asking him if we can have a private party before he
opens. It seems the best way we can repay all the hospitality we have been
receiving. We agree to next Saturday which is fairly short notice but the best he
can do.

We are out to dinner at David’s and he makes a real effort. Before we leave he
asks if I can start his generator. Maybe I have become some sort of expert.
Unfortunately, his is petrol with a pull start and, despite removing some flesh
from my fingers, no amount of pulling will start it. It’s too dark to check out the
problem but, since I can smell petrol, I suspect it’s something to do with the
spark or lack thereof.
Day 121 – Sunday. In order to start getting the party invitations out I design
them on the computer as soon as I get up. I will have to go into the office to
print them. Whilst sitting at the computer there is a commotion on the veranda.
Nissan, evidently having the same dislike as me of hornets, decides to eat one
and promptly is stung on the lip. The left side of his face looks as though
someone has punched him. We give him some ice to chew but, of course,
Sunny wants some as well.
There is no Keep Fit so Lindsay and I go to the office to print the invitations.
The colour cartridge is obviously getting a bit low as some of the colours turn
out a bit dubious but it’s too late to do anything about it. I tell Lindsay it’s more
artistic. The rest of the day is just lazing around. I don’t ever remember doing,
or not doing, things like this in the U.K..
Having decided to take some time off from the Tot after a week of doing Rum
Steward, we are stuck with having to go in order to deliver invitations. On the
way back we see that Walter, the owner of the bar where we are having the
party, is entertaining a few friends so we go to see him to ensure everything is
okay for next Saturday. Pascal, the French girl who has ordered Youngs beer
for me, is there and, evidently, has been there for some time. I am not sure
how the comment came about but at one stage she calls me ‘the beauty’ and
Lindsay ‘the beast’. I put it down to her being French or drunk, probably both.
Our plans of a quick visit to the Tot and a DVD have gone totally out the
window.
Day 122 – Monday. We set off early for St. John’s to go to the Immigration
Department to get our Work Permits stamped into our passports but first I want
to hand deliver a copy of the letter I faxed to the insurance company. It’s about
half past eight and, much to my surprise, the office is open. I have to park
awkwardly so Lindsay delivers the letter. We drive around the corner to drop a
party invitation into the solicitor. No sooner have we done so than my ‘phone
rings. It’s the insurance company. They want a meeting. I advise them we are
on our way to the Immigration Department and will call them when we have
finished.
We arrive at the Immigration Department and there is a queue of dozens of
people. They are sorting everyone into those who need visa extensions and
those who are applying for residency. We don’t fit into either category. We
hang around for a while but not much seems to be happening and we still

haven’t been categorised. We decide to go a deal with the insurance company
and come back later.
I ring the insurance company and say we are on our way. We are greeted in
the office by rather frosty stares and, after a few minutes, we are invited into the
manager’s office. Three others join us. After a bit of waffling by the manager
about how I couldn’t do what I had threatened in my letter we get down to the
serious business of discussing the claim. Since the majority of the claim relates
to mechanical damage he wants to apply a 10% deduction for betterment
although he calls it depreciation. I don’t think this is unreasonable. He works
out a figure which I think is perfectly fair and I offer him my hand and we depart
amicably with a promise the cheque will be ready on Friday.
Before going back to Immigration we collect our post and do some shopping.
About a third of the bill comprises things for dogs – squeaky toys, extendable
leads and dog food. We also call at the garage to sort out the repairs but the
owner isn’t there and mechanic suggests we ring later.
Back at Immigration the queue looks just as long but this time we are invited
into the building quite quickly. We sit for about an hour, moving along the chairs
as each person is served. When our turn comes the lady behind the opaque
glass screen completes a lengthy form. As she starts it she writes P.T.O. on
the bottom. I can see this is going to take time. Having completed the
questions she then writes notes on the front and back of the form. One
sentence she highlights. I can’t read it but I can see it contains the word ‘white’.
I am beginning to understand what it is like to be a minority. Having filled in the
form for Lindsay she does the same for me and highlights the same sentence. I
still have no more luck in trying to read it. Once complete, our passports and
the forms are sent to the cashier where we have to pay EC$150 each. We wait
about half an hour for our turn at the cashier who fills in another lengthy form
which doubles as a receipt. We are out in about two hours, slow by our
previous experience but we notice some people who were there when we
arrived the first time are still waiting. At least we don’t have to do this again until
next July.
I don’t get to the office until after lunch where there are copious e-mails mainly
to do with the Marine Expo but also one advising me that the computer is ready.
I arrange for UPS to pick it up.
A call to the solicitor reveals that the final piece of paper we require to sort out
the business bank account has received the required Government stamp. We
can pick it up tomorrow. Having copied her in on my letter to the insurance
company, I tell her that it has succeeded. She laughs and says that a letter like
that was bound to succeed.
My next call is to the car repairer. He suggests that he can pick up a second
hand engine which will be quicker and cheaper. I am not too sure whether to go

down this route and, if we do, I will feel obliged to pay back to the insurance
company any ‘profit’ we might make despite the way we have been treated.
Nissan has now managed to climb over the gate from the veranda into the
house on a couple of occasions and he does so again while Lindsay is
preparing their food. She leaves him inside and takes the food onto the
veranda. He is now in serious panic mode as he realises he is separated from
his food and has to climb back again. Maybe it will teach him a lesson but I
doubt it.
We decide on a quite evening and a DVD. Despite having a sign in the window
saying ‘Open’ and all the lights on, the door is firmly locked.
Day 123 – Tuesday. The dogs are due for their second set of injections and we
take them to the vet. Despite having had a bad experience last time they seem
quite happy to be going in again, in fact, quite ecstatic, probably because of all
the other animal smells. They don’t even seem to notice the injections.
Before taking them to the vet I give the dogs their breakfast and Nissan hasn’t
leant not to climb the gate. To make matters worse, Sunny is now imitating him.
They are both halfway over the gate as I come out of the kitchen with their
bowls. The problem is that if we raise the height of the gate we can’t step over
it. I have a possible, temporary solution which I will try out but, long term, it
either has to be discipline or some other form of barrier. I favour discipline.
In the office I check my e-mails and discover that the computer company are
refusing to send back the computer because there was an underpayment on the
original shipping. This is the first I have heard of it and go ballistic. They
assure me they faxed me the paperwork back in July. I ask them to refax it.
They do or, try to. They are faxing my telephone not the fax machine. I ring
them and tell them that I know the reason I never received the paperwork
previously. I am extremely grateful to Skype which enables me to make
international calls virtually free.
Virgin ring and tell me that they have looked into the mix up with Lindsay’s
flights and are crediting me with the fare I paid at the airport plus putting our
flight dates back to where they were previously plus crediting me with 12,000 air
miles. Virgin are back in my good books.
I arrive at Geoffrey’s office for my lunch appointment and he has forgotten and
gone home. I speak to him at his house and he suggests I come there. I’m not
sure we achieved very much in our discussions over the plot but, since Geoffrey
is going away for a month, I don’t have to worry too much. Geoffrey asks me if I
will help him move his boat at six so that it is secure whilst he is away. I agree.
Apparently, he feels there will be less wind at six and it will be easier to
manoeuvre into the dock where there is a cross wind. I do question his sailing

ability if he is concerned by such a minor detail but I don’t think he’s listening to
me.
I am supposed to ring the garage about Lindsay’s car and the solicitor but I get
back from Geoffrey’s just in time for my 2.30 meeting which goes on until after
five. I doubt whether it will make much difference.
I am on my way to join Geoffrey when the ‘phone rings. Apparently, he was
advised by someone else who was also due to help him that there was a slot in
the weather at 4.30 so they moved the boat. I am glad this friend is not a
weather forecaster. Just after 4.30 a strong squall came though and they were
caught out in it but managed to get the boat to the dock without damage. My
services no longer required I collected the DVD we intended to watch on
Sunday night and went home.
Day 124 – Wednesday. I ring the garage about Lindsay’s car and there is no
further news so ringing yesterday would have achieved nothing. Better news at
the solicitors. The papers are ready for collection.
A few days ago John Burton told me Nicki Hyatt is planning to be here for
Christmas. I replied that we might leave the island. John obviously copied this
to Nicki and, as a result, I have received a steam of e-mails. I have agreed that
we will accommodate her but, so far, have only offered her the dog kennel on
the veranda.
Lindsay returns from St. John’s and wants some lunch so we wander down to
the Galley Bar for a cheese burger. I don’t object as I want to see A & F Sails
about making a marquee. We are beginning to think this might be the most
economical route, even in the short term, for the marine exhibition.
I get caught by Mark and Lindsay who are drafting the brochure for the
Trafalgar night celebrations. They need help both with the type setting and the
photographs. I agree to scan in all the photos without realising there are
nineteen of them and since they all come out of old books not only is the
scanning difficult but also many of the photos need some form of alteration or
repair. It takes me the rest of the afternoon and I still haven’t finished.
Unfortunately, I have also promised to set up their computer so that they can do
simple type setting which means meeting them at the Tot, something I am trying
to avoid this week.
Sandy has returned from the U.K. about two weeks late and Lindsay introduces
him to the dogs. He agrees we can erect gates where we want them which
means I must remember to buy some timber and screws.
An e-mail from the head of the U.S. IRC Council (a British yacht rating system
which is now becoming popular in the U.S.) prompts me to send an e-mail to
the organiser of Antigua Sailing Week suggesting that an IRC class be

introduced to Sailing Week. An hour later I receive a telephone call from her
and she asks if my ears have been burning. Apparently, quite unrelated to my
e-mail which, at point, she hadn’t received, I was the subject of a conversation
between her and Mike Rose. I am still not sure what they discussed but it was
extremely convenient since it, effectively, generated an introduction and my
suggestion was received favourably.
Roger has been let down by a couple of dinner guests and asks if we will join
him. Connie is not well so Terry is the only other guest. During dinner I
discover Roger was in the Fleet Air Arm. We start talking aircraft which is totally
lost on Lindsay and Terry. The evening ends with us disagreeing over the tail
fin arrangement of a Blackburn Buccaneer. I am concerned to get ashore
before eleven as my car is inside the Dockyard and the gates are locked at
eleven. Inevitably, we don’t make and, as I expected the gates are shut. They
are fifteen foot high and solid wood. The recent wet weather must have swollen
them as the don’t quite meet and are not locked. We get home around midnight
which feels like three o’clock in the morning.
Day 125 – Thursday. This must be the lizard breeding season. We keep
finding tiny lizards only an inch or two long and very fragile looking. I suspect
it’s the frog breeding season as well from the number around the garden. The
dogs still haven’t quite worked out why or how they suddenly leap away.
Nissan, in particular, is puzzled, running after them as they jump but not being
sure what to do when they stop. He seems to have learnt his lesson from the
hornet, steering well clear of them. Maybe we should arrange for a frog to give
him a fright.
Gangs of men litter the road from the house. After weeks of the road
deteriorating quite rapidly repairs are underway. There has been a habit in the
past of just filling the pot holes so that the road ends up as a series of bumps,
the surface around the bumps continuing to wear away. The road to Shirley
Heights is like a Belgian cobbled street, only worse. Someone has obviously
realised it is better to repair the whole area rather than the individual pot holes.
I have seen some quite good repairs over the past few weeks and we are about
to benefit from this change in policy. Whilst they are going about the repairs
they are making some improvements to the drainage, the real cause of road
damage. By the evening the drive home is much improved.
Lindsay goes into St. John’s to try to get Customs clearance for our computer.
She returns requiring numerous bits of paper which may or may not allow us not
to pay Customs duty for a second time.
I decide I must get some real work done but the only way is to clear my desk of
all the ‘voluntary’ work. Unfortunately, the e-mails don’t stop and it takes me
until after lunch. Eventually, I get around to reviewing a remaining twenty five
pages of the magazine. They obviously saved the worst to last. Much of what I
have to review is artwork provided by professional agencies and it surprising

how many defects they contain. Not having the original artwork or the files
which would enable me to male corrections I have to use a variety of tricks to
correct spelling mistakes or spacing errors. By six, when I have to take the disk
of photos Mark and Lindsay, I still have ten pages to review. Tomorrow is a day
full of appointments but I must squeeze in a few hours somewhere.
Today started with wildlife and it ends the same way. Lindsay is sitting on the
veranda with Nissan curled up on her lap and Sunny asleep at her feet when a
large cricket disturbs the peace, Lindsay’s mainly. Sunny is in a better position
for the chase and grabs it. Nissan, demanding to be put down wants part of the
action but Sunny wanders around, avoiding him, with half a cricket hanging out
of her mouth which she finally devours.
Day 126 – Friday. What is it about Fridays? Everything seems to go wrong at
the end of the week. The day starts fine. We arrive at insurance company to
collect our cheque. We are kept waiting ten minutes and then are given it.
That’s the highlight of the day. Next call is at the bank. This is the third time we
have called at the bank to try to get the office account open. We meet with
someone new and someone we have seen before. We have with us everything
they have requested and for which they have provided us with a printed list.
Additionally they requested bank statements from the U.K.. I bring in about a
hundred. They now ask us for something extra and I lose my cool, just a bit. I
tell them this is the third time we have come in and every time they ask for
something extra. I tell them I am a bit fed up. The new person says she needs
to interview us. Lindsay points out that this has already been done but we,
briefly, go through the procedure again. They then ask for a C.V. which I agree
to e-mail to them. We get our account opened.
Whilst in the bank I keep receiving telephone calls, mainly to do with the marine
exhibition but also one from the office landlord telling me our computer has
arrived and is awaiting us at Customs. Unfortunately, we have to go back to the
office to collect the paper work. On our way we call in at the garage to check on
Lindsay’s car. Still no news.
I drop Lindsay at home and go to the office to catch upon a few things. On my
way I call at the Customs broker to collect the receipt for the original import of
the computer. This is the fifth time either Lindsay or I have called in and I still
can’t get the receipt. For the second time I lose my cool but it doesn’t get me
anywhere. They have lost it. Every time I speak to them they tell me I should
have exported the computer so that I don’t pay duty on it’s return. I keep telling
them I know but it’s too late and Customs have indicated that if we can produce
the receipt we may not have to pay duty again. They say they will look for it and
I say I will call back in an hour.
I deal with various things in the office and then head home for lunch calling at
the broker’s on the way. No receipt. I get the owner to agree that if there is any
duty to pay he will pay it.

I don’t get home until 1.30 and I am concerned, being a Friday, Customs may
close early. They normally close at three. We arrive at about 2.15 and explain
the situation to the Customs Officer. He checks our paper work and agrees that
it is a computer on which we have already paid duty, however, he wants us to
pay duty on the cost of the repair and the carriage charges. I point out that the
repair was free but it makes no difference, he assesses an amount of duty
anyway. The forms are so complicated it is worth paying EC$40 to have them
completed by one of the Customs brokers who hang the Customs shed. The
Duty is just under EC$196 but they are closing at 2.30 and it’s nearly that and
they have no change. I give them EC$200 and tell them not to worry about the
change.
On the way back home I pick up 110 foot of 2 x 1 timber to build some gates for
the dogs. As I don’t have any rope with me and they are in 12 foot lengths, I
hang them out through the tailgate window. Much to Lindsay’s consternation.
Back at the office, I plug in the computer. It doesn’t work. I can’t believe it. All
that trouble and expense and it’s not repaired. I get on-line to Apple who talk
me through all kinds of procedures including a full operating system install. The
power goes off while I am re-installing and although I have my UPS I doubt
there is enough power to complete the install. It just manages to do it before
the UPS runs out of power. It has made no difference, the computer still doesn’t
work. I go for a drink and await the return of power. It comes back at about
eight and I return to the office but with no more success. I fire off a stroppy e-
mail to the company in London telling them I want a new computer and they will
have to pay the costs and if they don’t confirm by Monday then I will sue them.
I get home at about ten.
Day 127 – Saturday. Up early to go into the office to have another go at the
computer. I go on-line to Apple which takes a couple of hours and then they cut
me off just when I am getting to the end of the session. Not that anything had
helped. I have been put onto a specialist who tells me the repair hasn’t been
done correctly. I already know that. After being cut off I try to go back on-line
but can’t get to the person I was dealing with before. They tell me they will put
me onto another specialist but then cut me off again. I give up and decide to try
re-installing again. There are three different types of installation, one which
preserves everything as it is, one which puts all my information into a separate
file and installs and another which wipes the disk clean and installs. I am
reluctant to try option three so start with options one and two. Just as I finish
option one the power goes off but, fortunately, only for a few minutes.
This morning Lindsay and I are supposed to be doing a special Keep Fit. The
Tot Club is going to clear the garden at a disabled children’s home. We are due
to meet at nine. I ring Terry and say I am stuck in the office but he can borrow
my weedwhacker which is in the back of my car. He comes and collects it.

Option one not working I try option two. That doesn’t work either so I have no
choice but to go to option three which means erasing all the data on my disk
and doing an install from scratch. Reluctantly, I do it. At the end, I am
marginally better off. I can get into the computer but only by holding down the
shift key and turning on the power but when I go to shut it down it won’t turn off.
I am supposed to be meeting Callie at one and I haven’t showered or changed
yet. Fortunately, Callie cancels.
It’s past lunchtime and I get home to Lindsay just finishing her breakfast. She
has given up waiting for me. I have breakfast or lunch of the bacon and eggs
which been waiting for me (uncooked) for several hours. Lindsay tells me I am
to do nothing for the rest of the afternoon. I don’t need much telling.
Lindsay is off to the ‘Hash’. Some group of walkers and runners who visit
different parts of the island and go on a mystery walk/run. I tell her to ring me at
five in case I fall asleep but, of course, she forgets.
The party seems to be a success although our security guard is late and still
manages to let in three gate crashers. Walter and Susie, the owners of the bar,
do us proud. Their food is first class, or so everyone says. Lindsay and I do not
get a chance to eat. The bar service is very good and everyone is very
impressed. I hope it augers well for them when they open officially next
Wednesday.
Tim and Nora who own the land we want to buy approach me and say that we
must talk about the plot. I have been wanting to talk for weeks and we agree to
meet up next week. Maybe we are reaching a conclusion.
Day 128 – Sunday. We both have hangovers and are moving a little slowly but
by nine I have just about enough energy to go into the office. I need to catch up
on some work since I have lost so much time trying to repair the computer. I
am regularly interrupted by calls thanking us for last night’s party. Even the
internet is working against me. It takes 40 minutes and 38 seconds for me to
upload a 25 mg file and I don’t get home until after two.
Having bought the timber for the gates, reluctantly, I start building them. I have
a design/build plan which works surprisingly well and the first gate is up and
working within an hour. Even the way I have of locking a wooden gate to a
tubular metal post works perfectly. The first gate done I feel I can introduce
‘production’ line methods to the second one. Either I am too casual or I am
getting tired because a number of silly mistakes creep in and it takes me about
as long to build the second gate as the first. Theses gates need a little
description. They are two foot six wide and three foot high. They comprise
seven upright bars with cross bracing which means the gaps between the bars
are about 3 inches. I am quite proud of my gates. After clearing up and
shutting the gates I let the dogs into the garden and Sunny walks up to one of

the gates and steps straight through the upright bars. I could swear she is more
than three inches wide. Obviously we are not feeding her enough.
We have been invited out to dinner and it’s about the last thing I want to do.
Bed seems much more attractive. Our hosts, Titi and Uri live in a lovely house
above Galleon Beach and there are eight other guests. Six of them we don’t
know although we have met one couple briefly, yesterday. There is a single
man who used to live in Worthing and work for Mid Sussex District Council who
I think I recognise but don’t think I ever came across in business. I can’t say I
take to him but that just may be the way I am feeling. Lindsay seems to get on
reasonably well with him. I am seated between a very voluble American and a
young local lady and I am not feeling on great form. The American lady makes
enough conversation for everyone. Fortunately, one couple have a baby sitter
so the evening winds up quite early.
Day 129 – Monday. Mondays have to be Mondays the world over and this
Monday is below average. I was quite abstemious last night, having only two
glasses of wine and one very small old rum which tastes disgusting as it could
easily be a bourbon yet I feel as though I have a hangover. I was never very
good at early mornings and seven o’clock in Antigua seems like a sentence.
I get into the office early to try to get some things done before Callie descends
upon me at 9.30. When she arrives we discuss, or try to discuss, what we are
going to talk about at our ten o’clock meeting with Nicholsons. I am still trying to
tie up a few things which, despite my early start, I haven’t finished. Fortunately.
Callie has left her agenda at home and it gives me a little relief while she sorts it
out. Overall, I feel a little guilty. She is putting her heart and soul into this and I
am occasionally contributing a few ideas and a bit of design work. We have a
whole variety of things to organise and I had promised her the whole day to
devote to the organisation of the Marine Expo. Unfortunately, I am interrupted
every few minutes by my computer telling me I have e-mail. It would probably
take more time than I care to devote to describe my day. Suffice to say, Callie
left at two, probably fed up with my inattention.
One advantage of the morning is that at our meeting with Nicholsons I am able
to get the e-mail address and telephone numbers of someone I have been
trying to track down in Spain.
I need to get back to my computer problems and since its past five in the U.K.
and I have had no response to my ultimatum I post a report on the internet
about my experience with Apple and the supplier. I copy it to the supplier
hoping also that Apple monitor the internet and pick it up. I telephone Alex (my
elder daughter) knowing that she will love to represent me in Court (her father’s
daughter to a T) and tell her I will send a Power of Attorney together with a
Summons and all the case documents. Alex, who is already in Court twice this
week, is delighted by the prospect. I suspect I may have to curb her
enthusiasm. One thing, no two things, I learnt about Court appearances were

– be better prepared than the opposition and play it low key. The Judges are
not stupid and they read all the papers in advance.
At about quarter to six Lindsay rings and asks if I am going to the Tot. Since it
is only 100 yards away I say probably which means yes but I won’t be long. On
my arrival I am given a book from which to scan more pictures. I put it safely to
one side. After the Tot Sandy arrives and, together with David, persuades me
to stay for a couple more drinks. I leave and forget the book. On my way out I
am accosted by one of the locals who asks for some money for food. I tell him
that I won’t give him any money because he will go and spend it on drugs. He
gets down on his knees, tells me his long lists of names, crosses himself and
says he only wants to buy food. I ask him where he is going to buy it and he
names a small restaurant down the road. I say I will drive him there and pay for
a burger. He accepts but when we get there the restaurant is closed. I drive off
and leave him at the roadside.
Day 130 – Tuesday Another early start but I have promised our website
designer back in the U.K. that I will devote some time to him today. I am
reasonably successful except that I send him an e-mail and forget to attach all
the data I have prepared. Fortunately, I realise and send him the data except
that he receives the data but not my original message. The internet is still
steam driven in Antigua.
I had been planning to collect the book I left in Life but they are closed. Often
staff go in when they are closed but, today, no-one appears. I hope the book is
safe.
I have made an appointment with Jonathan for lunch. He runs the Antiguan
equivalent of the RNLI except that he has only one boat and, unlike the RNLI,
no money. I had met Jonathan in the past both in Antigua and in the U.K.. It
had occurred to me that the Marine Expo should have an official charity and
Jonathan’s ABSAR (Antigua & Barbuda Search and Rescue) would be an
appropriate subject. We have worked out a few suitable or, in some cases,
unsuitable, ways of raising funds. I suggested we meet at Cloogy’s, one of my
least favourite restaurants because of their prices. Fortunately, they are closed
so I rearrange for a local restaurant which I have never eaten in because it is
more than halfway home. For lunch time, it is brilliant and cheap.
I get back to the office at about three to prepare my case against the computer
supplier. Alex has sent me the appropriate paperwork and I enjoy producing my
first Summons in about nine months. My only regret is that I won’t be there to
argue it.
Work interrupts with eighteen pages of corrections being downloaded and
Lindsay arriving from a trip to St. Johns. She had gone to do some food
shopping, investigated the cost of colour laser printers, collect our new business
cheque books and try to buy a vacuum cleaner. I am not sure how successful

she was with the food shopping but she came back with nothing else apart from
a pile of post, all from U.K. banks.
It is approaching six and Lindsay asks if we are going to the Tot. I am waiting
for an upload to the U.S. to complete which has been going for about fifteen
minutes. I complain about the time it takes in Antigua and Lindsay points out
that only last year it was done by post. We are in time to go to the Tot.
As we drive up to the Dockyard barrier I wind down my window to explain to the
security guard why we want entry. The Dockyard manager is talking to the
security guard and just waves us through. Maybe recognition is on its way.
We arrive at the bar and my ‘lost book’ is sitting on the side, rescued by
someone who realised I had left it behind. It was just as well no-one was in
Life. I might have panicked if I had been unable to find it. I take it to my car
straight away.
For some reason Lindsay, quite unusually, drinks faster than me and by the
time she is into her third gin and tonic she is expressing signs of ‘home
sickness’. She misses her family which makes me feel quite guilty.
Day 131 – Wednesday. I don’t have much work on with only 18 pages requiring
reproofing which takes about an hour so I get down to putting together all the
paperwork to sue the supplier of the computer. Having sent him a copy of the
Summons and a copy of a report of the case I posted on the internet which he
has forwarded to Apple, he copies me Apple’s reply. Of course, Apple don’t do
me the courtesy of providing an e-mail address but they tell me in no uncertain
terms not publish things about them in a public forum. That is a red rag to a
bull. I reply (via the supplier) that I will publish whatever I like wherever I like so
long as it is true. I have not had a response.
I am supposed to be having a meeting with the secretary to the Marine
Association after lunch. She has just returned from a boat show in La Rochelle
and wants to check her post and e-mail and says she will ring me as soon as
she finishes. She rings at ten past four and I am in the middle of scanning
photos for the Trafalgar 200 th Anniversary booklet and tell her I will be about
half an hour. It turns out to be an Antigua half hour and I arrive just before five.
We have only been working for five minutes when the power goes off. I agree
to meet her tomorrow.
We have decided to eat at the new restaurant as today is their opening night,
our party excluded. From the beginning I thought the restaurant would be much
more successful as a bar than a restaurant and it soon proves to be the case. It
is packed solid and there is little room for diners or the waiters to move around.
A few weeks ago I had suggested to Lindsay that it might be better as a Tapas
style bar/restaurant. Our new French friend joins us and says very much the

same thing. It is only the first night and, maybe, the bar won’t be so crowded in
the future.
Day 132 – Thursday. I am devoting myself to the Marine Expo today although I
am supposed to meet up with the secretary to the Marine Association at nine.
She rings at ten thirty to say she is still in St. John’s. I have to go to St. John’s
myself for a two thirty meeting and plan to leave the office at one in order to get
a few other things done. Still no word by one although the power is off from
eleven until one so maybe she hasn’t bothered. We are still suffering load
sharing and power cuts are still going on daily. The times change each day.
Yesterday it was while we were eating dinner in the restaurant. The power
comes back on at one, Lindsay arrives with a sandwich for my lunch followed by
Callie followed by a call from the secretary of the Marine Association. Callie
and I leave for St. John’s at one thirty and I still haven’t had a chance to meet
with the secretary of the Marine Association.
My first task in St. John’s is to buy a colour laser printer. When Lindsay did
some investigation the other day she came up with one printer at EC$3,250 and
they told her it was the only one they had. I call into the same shop and they
offer me a colour laser at EC$2,550. I wonder whether they have become
muddled with the model number which is also 2550. The also show me the one
they showed Lindsay at EC$3,250 model number 3250. This can’t be a
coincidence. Whilst I would like the larger model and it is the one I have come
in to buy, a colour laser is a bit of a luxury and I can’t really justify buying it
when there is a cheaper model.
Our 2.30 appointment is with one of the executives of Antigua Sailing Week.
It’s a bit of a nebulous meeting and I don’t think we achieve very much although
it takes about an hour and a half. For some time I have been saying that Sailing
Week needs a headline sponsor, something which has been resisted, however,
wiser heads seem to have prevailed and Rolex are now sponsoring the regatta.
I wish they had done it in 2004, I might have won a Rolex watch. What really
surprises me is that this executive has never been on a boat and, when I
mention handicaps, he hasn’t a clue what I am talking about.
I don’t get back to the office until about 4.30 and only just have enough time to
install the printer before rushing off to drinks with some neighbours. They live
right at the top of the hill behind us and have magnificent views in all directions.
Sitting out on their terrace it is quite cool and completely mosquito free. We
looked at a plot just above them but Lindsay dismissed it on the grounds of the
steep, narrow road to get there. Feeling slightly chilly in the gentle breeze, she
might be having second thoughts. Those second thoughts are erased as we
drive back down with the car in first gear and low ratio four wheel drive and I am
still having to use the brakes.
Day 133 – Friday. Antigua has this habit of constantly throwing spanners in the
works. Because I have a fairly full day I set off for St. John’s early with a plan to

e back in the office around nine. I have gone no more than a few yards when I
realise the car is still in low ratio four wheel drive despite the knob being set to
two wheel drive only. I stop and fiddle with the knob but to no avail. I drive half
a mile and stop again but no change. A neighbour stops and offer some advice
but the car stubbornly refuses to change its setting. The only option is to drive
to the garage in St. John’s and get it sorted. I set off at about 25 miles and
hour, any faster and the engine over revs and the low ratio gearbox howls like a
banshee. I am obviously not popular with other road users as I hold up the rush
hour traffic.
I arrive at the garage and they issue me with a warranty note and tell me to take
the car to the workshop next door. Here the car showrooms don’t carry out their
own servicing and maintenance, it’s all sub-contracted out. The owner of the
workshop fiddles with the car then drives away leaving me standing by the road
side for half an hour. When he returns the car is still stuck in four wheel drive.
He suggests I take it to the other service centre which has a computer. I am
going there anyway as it’s where Lindsay’s car is being repaired. I have to get
the warranty note changed. The mechanic at the next garage starts by opening
both front window. He then fiddles with the gear lever and the four wheel drive
knob and I immediately notice it has come out of low ratio. A bit more fiddling
and it’s back into two wheel drive. I ask him how he did it but don’t get an
answer. I suspect he doesn’t know either. I wonder at the significance of
opening the front windows. My guess is he didn’t like the smell of my cigar
smoke.
I have now wasted an hour and as I leave the owner of the garage returns. He
thinks I have come about Lindsay’s car and tells me he is hoping a new engine
will arrive from St. Maarten today. I have a few other things to do in town and
don’t get back to the office until eleven with my next appointment at 12.30. This
is with the secretary to the Marine Association and this time it does happen.
We spend a useful couple of hours and I rush back to the office for my two thirty
appointment which arrives at ten to three.
Lindsay has definitely decided she wants to go back to the U.K. so I book her a
flight on the 28 th , returning on 8 th . She is going to take our computer with her
and get it exchanged.
I have received the draft copy of the booklet for Trafalgar Night but all the
settings are wrong. It’s going to take a lot of work to get it right. I try a rough
draft print run but it’s all over the place.
Driving home I notice a load of telegraph poles have been dumped alongside
the road. Maybe electricity is on its way which will please our neighbour who
constantly complains about the noise of our generator although he seems totally
oblivious to the noise of his generator or his screaming kids in his swimming
pool.

We have been invited up to the U.S. Air Base where they are having a rum
tasting. Security make us leave the car at the gate and walk. Just as well it’s
not raining. It’s a long way.
It’s difficult to describe the experience of this visit although it can be summed up
in one word – appalling. Firstly, it is the first totally enclosed bar we have been
into in Antigua and despite being air conditioned – too cold – cigarette smoke
hangs heavily in the air. The noise is dreadful. There are only about fifty
people in the bar but you’d think there were a couple of hundred. It’s not just
everyone shouting at each other, it’s mainly the banging and crashing as they
slam their glasses, bottles and coins on the bar. There is also a game of
dominos going on at one of the tables and, for some reason, they seem to have
a necessity to smash the chips down rather than place them in position.
The bar service is out of this world. By that I mean bad. They have a two till
system. The barman touches the screen on one till to indicate the drinks
ordered, goes to another till and enters the amount of money then comes back
to the first till and sorts out the money due and change. I am at a loss to see
the purpose of a second till. Furthermore, when people want drinks, he hands
them a chip. He then goes around and replaces each chip with a drink. The
chip seems superfluous. To make matters worse they only take U.S. dollars or
EC$ notes. The will not take EC change and all the change you get is in U.S..
With a bit of juggling and 10 U.S. cents donated by someone I manage to get
away without any U.S. change. The real problem is that it takes about fifteen
minutes to get a drink. Perhaps it’s all a cunning plan to prevent the
servicemen from getting drunk but I doubt it. In reality it’s a true example of
American efficiency at work.
At the Tot Mike mentions that Lindsay could have come to the Tot in the Tower
of London if she was arriving earlier. I picked the flight dates as we have
already booked and paid for a ‘Christmas Party’ held in September. Lindsay
says she would rather go to the London Tot. I can see I will have to make some
re-arrangements.
Day 134 – Saturday. Lindsay has gone for a run so I decide to take the dogs
for a walk. It was intended just to be a short walk up the hill but then, thinking I
might wear them out a bit I take them down to the beach but they are still as
frisky as when I left home so I walk them half a mile to the top of the hill. At last
they are beginning to slow down but not as much as me. I am now best part of
a mile from home but at least most of it is down hill. The walk has its desired
affect. The dogs crash out on the veranda.
As soon as breakfast is over I go into the office to re-arrange Lindsay’s flights.
It costs me US$100 to change the dates but it will keep her happy. Driving
home I see the electricity poles are now being erected which seems quite quick.
I wonder how long it will be before they finish.

I spend most of the day trying to reset the Trafalgar Commemorative booklet to
be printable. Unfortunately, it has been typed as a continuous document and is
thirty two pages yet page one and thirty two have to be printed together with
page two and thirty one on the reverse side. I have a programme that does this
automatically but the copy has to be typed in directly so it’s a question of
manually working out which page faces which and what goes on the back. The
theory is fine and I draw it out bon a piece of paper but then finding the right
piece text to fit the page becomes increasingly confusing. Eventually, I get one
copy to come out correctly.
The Tot is at the yacht club and I decided to take my one copy to show Mike.
He’s not there but Lindsay (another Lindsay) who did all the typing is very
pleased. We take the dogs since we feel they ought to become social. Anne
says Mike will be most disappointed not to have seen them. Sunny disgraces
herself by wetting the yacht club floor. It is on the balcony so not too bad
except there is a restaurant below. Just as well it’s closed.
I mention that Lindsay will not be around for the ‘Christmas Party’ and that I
have a spare ticket. Charlie (female) promptly speaks up saying that she
doesn’t have a ticket and will come in Lindsay’s place. I’m not sure of Charlie’s
age but it is well beyond what I might have considered as an alternate partner.
Day 135 – Sunday. For some time we have been talking about reorganising the
flat and store room below the house. When all our furniture and chattels arrived
the removers just bundled them in everywhere. The only solution is to take
everything out and put it back in some kind of order. Also, we want to use some
of our furniture in the flat to provide accommodation for visitors. I start moving
stuff out at about seven and Lindsay joins me a short while later. Within a
couple of hours we have managed to sort most things and although we think we
have made good progress once we begin to organise everything to where we
want it, progress is much slower. The legs on two of our nice wardrobes have
been damaged and we have to take them apart and rebuild them. Lindsay
reckons there is an art to packing up goods which makes them extremely
difficult to unpack. By lunch time we are nearly done with the flat cleared, piles
of boxes in the covered area and on the pathway and some semblance of order
in the storeroom despite two big toads wanting to take up residence.
On the wildlife side, a couple of herons are tormenting the dogs. They aren’t
doing it deliberately but the dogs don’t know that. I pick up a stone to scare
them away and throw it. If I tried a hundred times I could never do it again. The
stone landed right in the middle of the back of one of the herons. It had the
desired affect.
Leaving Lindsay to erect the bed I start clearing up the mountains of packing
paper, squashing it into boxes. That done, I turn my attention to a pile of
rubbish which has been sitting under some bushes for some time. My intention
is to put into the boxes and take it, along with the packing paper to the rubbish

tip, that is, until I pick it up. It is crawling with insectivorous wildlife and, as I
soon discover, the biting kind. I don’t fancy this lot in my car so a bonfire seems
the only solution although I have heard a rumour that a bonfire licence is
required. From the number of bonfires one sees this could be completely
untrue or the ‘bonfire department’ is extremely busy or, most likely, no one
takes any notice. I suspect the later and decide to join that group.
Dragging the rubbish down the garden my hands and legs are assaulted by
biting insects, some of them quite vicious. I get a sadistic form of pleasure
when, after a liberal dose of petrol, I throw a lighted taper onto the pile. Lindsay
asks me what is the cause of the popping sounds coming from the bonfire. I
reply that I hope it is the incinerating bodies of the insects.
The blaze is quite fierce and sends a large pall of smoke skywards. Any
thoughts of having my ‘illegal’ activity go unnoticed have completely
disappeared. Most of the rubbish is burnt when it begins to rain, heavily. My
bonfire seem unaffected and, during a lull I pile the remnants together and they
burst into flame again. Even a second downpour only reduces it to a
smouldering heap which eventually consumes everything
We need to meet up with Mike Rose so go down to the Tot and I suggest we
take the dogs. Lindsay is not keen as she has just put on clean clothes and the
dogs sit on her lap in the car. I suggest we put them in the rear compartment.
Lindsay sits in the back seat to ensure they are okay. On our way, one of the
locals flags me down for a lift. Too late, I realise it’s the one I left standing
outside the closed restaurant. He tries to sell me some fruit he is carrying in a
bag which I refuse. He’s hungry again and asks for money for food. I stop
outside an open restaurant and give him a handful of change. I don’t have time
to go in and pay for a burger. He looks at the change, somewhat
disappointedly, and gets out of the car.
It’s Nissan’s turn to disgrace himself. He wets the floor in the Life bar. At least
there is only sea water underneath. Not long after, David’s dog decides to do
likewise but being a substantially larger dog the volume is considerably greater.
Day 136 – Monday. On my way into the office I am going to dump the boxes of
packing paper and other rubbish. It’s quite a quantity so I fold down the rear
seats. Whilst this is going on I have the engine running and Nissan, who has
decided he likes going in the car, is making an awful racket on the other side of
the gate wanting to get out and come with me. Sunny turns up, climbs over the
top of Nissan who has his head through the bars, and walks through the gate.
This sends Nissan into paroxysms of frustration and he manages to get his front
legs through the bars but then is totally stuck. I grab Sunny and hand her to
Lindsay, then work at getting Nissan from between the gate bars. I have visions
of unscrewing one. I try pushing him backward but his ribs are like the barbs on
a fish hook and won’t go through the gap the way they came. After a lot of
wriggling I manage to get first one back leg through then the other.

I have a ten o’clock appointment and Lindsay says she will come into the office
to use the computer before going to St. John’s. I get back from my appointment
just before eleven and have settled down to do some work when Lindsay
arrives. I meant a real ten o’clock not an Antiguan ten o’clock. I think she is
settling into this way of life too easily. Lindsay goes to St. John’s and leaves me
to it.
A call to the garage about Lindsay’s car elicits the information that the man has
not yet come back from St. Maarten with a new engine, however, the garage
owner promises me the car will be ready by the end of the week. Foolishly, I
forget to ask which week.
I now have to go back and re-write some of Friday and Saturday because
Lindsay is flying back to the U.K. next Saturday but she wants it to be a surprise
so I couldn’t mention the booking arrangements I made last week.
I finally get rid of Callie at about lunch time and settle down to finalising the
Trafalgar Commemorative booklet. It takes me the rest of the day and at about
five thirty I am ready to run a provisional final copy. I print two copies of the odd
pages and turn the paper over on one set to print the other, even, pages. The
print comes out upside down. I still have the other pages so I do a second run
of the even pages. It prints on top of the odd pages. Time to give up.
I receive a telephone call from one of the ladies at Nicholson’s who gives me an
ear bashing about the way Callie has spoken to her. It does sound as though
Callie might have been a bit out of order. I say I will deal with it. Callie rings
and tells me what happened from her point of view. I don’t tell her I already
know. She is sending an e-mail and I say I will read it and ring her. It doesn’t
arrive before I leave the office.
It’s just after six and I suddenly remember I have forgotten my younger
daughter’s birthday. I remembered it all last week and even produced an e-mail
card ready to send. Anouska is staying with Alex so I ring and wake Alex up.
It’s eleven at night in the U.K.. Anouska, being in the Police has just left for
work.
Day 137 – Tuesday. First priority is to e-mail Anouska her card even if it is
rather late. I hope Alex checks her home e-mails. I did tell her to do so.
Next priority is to chase the computer company in the U.K.. They still haven’t
replied to my e-mail saying that Lindsay is coming back and she will exchange
the computer. I telephone them and discover the manager is in Paris but
someone assures me they will exchange it. I ask for e-mail confirmation.
I see the e-mail Callie has sent to Nicholson’s. It’s a little more temperate that
she apparently was in her telephone conversation but not a lot. It has been

copied to all and sundry. I write her a reply, copying it to everyone, and try to
take the steam out of the situation. Time will tell.
Callie arrives in the office for what has become a daily meeting and I show her
my response to her e-mail. We agree to smooth things over and try to work
more co-operatively with the Nicholson ladies. She leaves and I set up for
another print run of the Trafalgar Commemorative booklet. As I do the power
goes off but my new printer is 110 voltage so I can run it off my UPS. Wrong, it
takes so much power the UPS promptly turns itself off. Fortunately, the power
is on in less than an hour.
My day is consumed by e-mails and telephone calls regarding the Marine Expo
which makes life extremely difficult as I am trying to proof read and set the final
draft of the Commemorative booklet. To make matters worse, Lindsay brings in
the dogs. Not that I mind too much except one of them wets the floor. Both
look guilty so I don’t know which it was. I finally wind up with two acceptable
drafts at five thirty but, I suspect the printing or, more accurately, the folding and
stapling, are going to be the major tasks.
Day 138 – Wednesday. I try to get into the office early since I know I have a
fairly full day. I have been organising the presentation for the Marine Expo
which is to be held at Catherine’s Café in the Dockyard. Replies are coming in
thick and fast and Sophie at Catherine’s wants to know final numbers. I can
guarantee that some people will turn up without having informed us so I add ten
to the numbers and hope it’s enough. Stan, the Chairman of the Marine
Association, asked me to prepare and place three advertisements in the local
paper. I am told they look good but I am yet to see the actual copy.
Unfortunately, we had a slight misunderstanding. Stan wanted me to advertise
the presentation whereas I thought it was for the Expo as a whole. Since the
first advert. came out two days before the presentation, the second today and
the third tomorrow, advertising the presentation seems a bit pointless but I
manage to change today’s advert. even though we are past the deadline for
giving Sophie final numbers.
There is a large bang and the power goes off. This time it’s not APUA doing
their power sharing. Branches of a palm tree lie in the road. I am not sure
whether it is the tree which has damaged the line or the line blowing up which
has removed the branches. Both are possible. In some ways APUA can be
very efficient. The power is back on in fifteen minutes.
I have agreed to drive Mike and Anne to the airport and drop their dogs off at
the kennels. Mike rings me and asks if I can come at one fifteen instead of one
thirty as they need to drop the cat elsewhere. I arrive on time and Anne is still
in the shower. Half an hour later with Anne still watering plants and we manage
to get away. We drop the cat at the first destination and are now well behind
schedule. The owner of the dog kennels needs to pick her children up at two
thirty. We arrive at two thirty. There are two dogs tied to a tree outside the

kennels and they mange to free themselves just as I get Nuisance out of the
back. One of the dogs immediately attacks Nuisance and I have to separate
them. Mike and Anne kept telling the dogs they were going on holiday. I
suspect Nuisance thinks he’s gone to a penal colony.
After dropping Mike and Anne at the airport I go to the out of town shopping
centre at Woods Mall where there is a good stationers but they have nothing I
want. I need some A4 card for the cover to the Trafalgar Commemorative
booklet but they only do it US Letter size. Nor do they have a long reach
stapler. I try to ring Mike who I know is still in the airport bar to suggest he picks
them up in the U.K. but either he has packed his ‘phone in his bag or left it at
home. It rings but there is no reply.
Back at the office there is an e-mail with the printers. Something has gone
wrong with one of the adverts.. It needs completely redoing and I have none of
the artwork and it’s very complicated. Lindsay has gone to a meeting at the
Amazing Grace foundation, giving Roger a lift. On her return at seven she rings
me from the Galley Bar and asks whether I am going to join them. I suggests
she gives me another ten minutes. At eight Lindsay turns up at the office and
starts to close it up. I tell her it will only take me another ten minutes to finish. I
don’t think she believes me but this time I am right.
It’s been quite cool all day and, driving home, the temperature has dropped
quite a bit. For the first time since we have been here I have to turn the
temperature up on the air conditioning although the cold air doesn’t cut out until
the dial reaches 27 degrees – and that’s cold?
Day 139 – Thursday. We are awoken at about five in the morning. This time
it’s not by the dogs but by a strong, pungent odour. Lindsay thinks it’s
something burning but it smells to me like sewage. I realise the wind is from the
west and the smell must be from the volcano on Montserrat about twenty five
miles away.
Callie arrives in the office totting a digital projector. We feel we ought to try it
out before setting it up for this evening’s presentation. Callie opens the box and
can’t find the instructions the suppliers claim are included. It’s going to be trial
and error. There are seven cables and one is marked Mac. Despite this the
fittings no way match my laptop nor do any of the other cables. We telephone
the supplies for help but might as well not have wasted the ‘phone call. Looking
at the various cables I realise that I have a fitting which may convert one of
them into a USB except I suspect I have left it at home. Just in case, I
rummage through my laptop bag and come across another fitting which I had
forgotten about and is still in its original sealed plastic bag. It is perfect for the
job.
Next we need to produce a Powerpoint presentation. I have never used
Powerpoint but soon discover it’s child’s play and, unhappy with my first slides,

eject them and a second set before finally accepting my third attempt and then
playing with the colours and backgrounds to perfect the images.
Plugging in the projector we eventually work out how to go through its menu to
get it to recognise it’s ‘talking’ to a computer but nothing will come upon the
screen. After trying all possibilities I notice the cable connecting the computer
to the projector has fallen out. Suddenly everything springs to life.
Someone is supposed to be coming to see us at two thirty about the carpeting.
By three there is no sign. Yet again, I forgot to ask which day. Callie leaves
and I begin to pack up. If the carpet man turns up he will have had a wasted
journey.
Since we are trying to move the Marine Expo upmarket, I go home and change.
It’s the first time I have worn a tie since we moved to Antigua. Catherine’s Café
where we are holding the presentation is partly on a dock over the water. The
first thing which becomes apparent is that the wind is blowing the projector
screen everywhere and the only place we can secure it is directly facing the
sun. We can only hope the sun goes down behind the hills opposite before we
need the projector. Conveniently, it does. One thing we have forgotten is a
power source. There isn’t one near where we want to put the projector.
Fortunately, we are able to borrow an extension lead. The lack of instructions
nearly defeats us again. We cannot get the projector to work. We go through
everything we did earlier but to no avail then I realise I have plugged the cable
into the wrong socket in the back of the projector. I don’t admit to it and just
swap the plug over and everything is working again.
The presentation is opened by the Marine Association President who speaks for
a few minutes followed by the Association Chairman who obviously likes the
sound of his own voice as he talks for about fifteen minutes on subjects no one
has come to hear about. I can see people’s eyes glazing over. I wish for one of
those hooks they used to drag bad performers off the stage. He is doing us
damage. One thing becomes apparent. I have forgotten to turn off the ‘sleep’
mode on my laptop and it cuts out every few minutes. After restarting it a few
times during the Chairman’s speech I leave it off in the hope he might get the
hint but he doesn’t.
It’s Callie’s turn next followed by me. When I am speaking I am getting
indications from one corner that they can’t hear. Not a problem I normally have
but I boost the volume. I am told afterwards that the tide had risen and the wind
increased causing the water to lap under the dock and the noise was drowning
out the speakers.
Everyone seem to think it a great success but I think it a bit of a disaster. Most
of the people attending are people with whom we are already in contact and the
idea was to appeal to different business but not many of those invited have
turned up.

Having told Lindsay I thought I would be home at around 7.30. it’s approaching
nine by the time we wind up and everyone involved in the presentation wants to
move to another bar for a debrief. We move to another bar but the debrief
never happens. I eventually get home at around ten. Lindsay hasn’t eaten so
it’s down tome to cook as penance.
Day 140 – Friday. I have a bit of a hangover but must get into the office to try to
finalise the agreement with the U.K. computer supplier. He has not been
responding to my e-mails and I think he is back tracking. I am now concerned
that if I send Lindsay back with the computer he will try to keep it and refund the
purchase price. I send him an agreement to sign and say I require it back by
twelve our time or the computer stays here and I will pursue him through the
Courts. By twelve I have heard nothing.
On my answerphone is a message from the carpet man. He didn’t get down to
us and wants to rearrange. We have come up with some alternatives so I will
go back to him as a last resort. It might teach him next time to turn up or at
least ring and say he can’t make it but I doubt it.
It’s gone twelve and I have modified the County Court Summons to take
account of my latest offer when an e-mail comes in from the supplier of the
computer offering a replacement. Our biggest difficulty now is that we will be
taking a computer out with one serial number and bringing in another with a
different number. I ask the supplier to give the serial number of the new
computer and, using my newly acquired skills with Photoshop, generate a serial
number for the out going computer which is the same as the one Lindsay will be
bringing in. I will say it looks just like the genuine article. I just hope they don’t
try to read the bar codes as they will just come up with nonsense.
I pack up at 4.30 and go home. All week I have been asking Lindsay to
photograph Teddy in the hammock for a prank we are going to play on Tina. As
usual, she hasn’t done it so we set the scene. Teddy in the hammock wearing
dark glasses and holding a cocktail.
We have to go down to the Tot to collect post people want Lindsay to take back
to the U.K.. It always puzzles me why people want things posted by anyone
going back. Postage from here is 15 EC$, about 30p, the same as a U.K. first
class stamp. By the time Lindsay gets around to posting the mail it will be
Monday arriving at the earliest, Tuesday. Posted from here on Friday, and
some of this post has been waiting a week for Lindsay to leave, letters would
arrive in the U.K. on Wednesday or Thursday.
Since it’s her last night Lindsay decides she wants to eat out and we go to the
restaurant below the office. The speed of the service has definitely improved.

Day 141 – Saturday. Lindsay is wandering around fairly aimlessly sorting
suitcases and clothing to pack. It looks as though she’s going back to the U.K.
for a month but she assures me that she’s only taking enough for a week. We
return her hire car and because it’s not quite full of petrol she has to drive to
Slipway to fill it and just makes it before they close at twelve. Lindsay thinks the
charger for her camera is in the office and I go to search for it without success.
I suspect it’s at home which it is.
We leave for the airport at about half one and, when we get there, I park in a no
waiting zone, much to Lindsay’s disgust, and go to find a Customs Officer. I
show him our paperwork and he want to see the computer so I go and get it
from the car. He asks to see the serial number. I show him the one I have
stuck on the back and he cross checks it with the paperwork. It matches and he
stamps the paperwork.
We go to the check-in desk to find the flight is delayed two hours. Also, they
have no record of Lindsay’s changed arrangements and, despite having told me
they would debit my credit card with the cost of the change, my card gets
debited again. It will be interesting to see if I get charged twice. Also, they
won’t let Lindsay take the computer on as hand luggage. It has to go in the
cargo hold. We take a photo of Teddy beside the Upper Class departure desk.
We go to wait in the airport restaurant and have some lunch. A man walks up
to Lindsay and grabs her by the hand. It’s Patrick. He was looking after the
boat I chartered in Sailing Week 1998 and apart from an occasion when he
came to the U.K. and I took him sailing in winter, unfortunately on a very
untypical winter’s day, we had not seen him again despite numerous efforts to
catch up with him. He is just catching a ‘plane to Tortola. He joins us for lunch
and we agree to meet up when he returns. I have to leave to go and feed the
dogs and get ready for the ‘Christmas’ party. On my way home I buy a copy of
the Antigua Sun to prepare my article on the kidnapping of Teddy.
ANTIGUA POLICE SEEK KIDNAPPER
The story behind the story. About five years
ago a bear, now known as ‘Teddy’ was
rescued by the crew of the yacht Jagga
racing off the Sussex coast in mid-winter.
Teddy lived, thereafter, on board the yacht
even crossing the Atlantic to Antigua and

ack again to the U.K.. When Jagga’s owner moved to Antigua Teddy was left
behind on the yacht from where he was rescued again and sent, second class
(wrapped in a brown paper package and stowed in the cargo hold) to Antigua.
Teddy soon settled into the casual lifestyle of Antigua, seen here relaxing in a
hammock and sipping a cocktail. Teddy lived quite happily in his new
environment, perspiring occasionally in the heat since he refused to part with
his wet weather clothing, fearing another dunking in the English Channel. All
this changed on Saturday 24 th September. Our intrepid reporter was soon on
the case and tracked Teddy to V C Bird International Airport where Teddy was
seen being forced on board a Virgin Atlantic flight to the U.K.. No expense
being spared, the Antigua Sun advised its reporter to stay on the case. Despite
our influence as Antigua’s top newspaper we were unable to get a second class
ticket for our reporter. We expect further reports from the U.K. over the next
few days. Our reporter has a name for the alleged kidnapper but, until the
police have been informed, the name is being withheld. We can say the
kidnapper is a tall, white female.
_______________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________
Back in the real world, I decide it’s time for some proper puppy training and
within ten minutes I have managed to teach them to sit in return for a dog
biscuit. They even sit for their dinner which is a first.
I am not really looking forward to the Christmas party
but it proves to be very good. Each person was given
a name drawn out of a hat and they have had to buy
a present up to US$10. My present to Tim Wall goes
down well and everyone likes my cartoon. Tim is the
local supplier of high quality coffee and I don’t know
him that well so I have bought a selection of high
quality teas. Having no wrapping paper I have used
a poster advertising Sailing Week 2006 and added a
couple of cartoons. I am very pleased with the
present I receive. I get a big, fat cigar and an
engraved Zippo lighter. I don’t even know the person
who has bought it but he must have done some
research. I get home around midnight a little worse
for wear.
Day 142 – Sunday. No respite for the wicked. The dogs wake me a six for their
walk and breakfast. When I get back I turn on my ‘phone because Lindsay said
she would ring. I dose for about an hour then get up to make some breakfast. I
take my ‘phone with me and it picks up a signal. I have just put the bacon in the
pan when the ‘phone bleeps. I have a message. It’s Lindsay. I walk out onto
the veranda to get a better signal and ring her back. We have been talking for

about ten minutes when she asks if I have had breakfast. I turn around to be
greeted by clouds of smoke coming from the kitchen. I rush in to grab the pan
and lose the signal on the way. In the middle of the frying pan is a pile of
charcoal I ring Lindsay back and tell her she has just ruined my breakfast.
It’s time for a bit more puppy training. They are getting quite good at sitting.
Nissan is much quicker on the uptake than Sunny. Stage two is to make them
sit and wait for a biscuit. They do so well I move to stage three which is putting
a biscuit on the floor and not allowing them to touch it. This is rather more than
they can bear so I think it’s enough training for one session.
Lindsay was supposed to bath the dogs yesterday but didn’t get around to it so I
have agreed to do it today. They are now too big for the sink and Lindsay has
taken to washing them under the garden hose. Not an easy job. I have a
‘good’ idea. I don a pair of swimming trunks and carry Sunny into the spare
shower. Washing her is very easy but I have overlooked one thing. Both I and
the dog are very wet and the towel is on the veranda. The net result is I end up
washing the living room floor.
We have agreed to meet in the restaurant at twelve to clear up last night’s
mess. When I arrive only Connie and Terry are there and all the mess has
gone. One of the staff came in early and tidied up. A few others drift in over the
next few minutes and we accuse them of being late and arriving after the work
is done. They all apologise before we let them into the secret.
I am not sure how they do it but beers are ordered. Mark and Lindsay even
have vodkas and orange. I stick to a couple of cans of Coke. As I am going out
to dinner I stop at the best liquor store to buy a bottle of Chablis which I think
will go down well in the current temperature. The liquor store is halfway home
and doesn’t have any Chablis so I have to drive back to Falmouth where the
small supermarket has a nice selection of wines.
The gates I have built need a coat of paint and I start with the primer. The dogs
sit and watch me. I am a bit concerned they may come too close and get
daubed in paint but the smell makes them sneeze so they stay away. I am not
sure whether it’s the temperature or the nature of the paint but it is very liquid
and goes everywhere. We now have some nice white grass.
I am invited to dinner at Sven and Julie’s. I think they believe I don’t know how
to cook so I might as well accept it. I have had several other invitations and
could probably dine out all week. Julie produces a very nice meal but, feeling a
bit worn out, I am pleased she likes an early night and I get home by nine.
Day 143 – Monday. I leave for St. John’s at seven thirty hoping to avoid the
worst of the traffic but without luck. It takes me longer than usual to get into
town. First call is at the vets, the supermarket, the post office, the bank and
then to see the garage about Lindsay’s car. It’s only when I get to the bank I

ealise I have forgotten to pay the telephone bill and that’s back in the area of
the post office and supermarket, about a mile away. Rather than leave it I turn
around and go back.
Although the garage had indicated they might have finished Lindsay’s car by
last Friday, I discover they haven’t even started it. The owner isn’t there but I
intend to give them an ultimatum. If it isn’t done this week I will take it
elsewhere.
I just make it back in time for my meeting in Jolly Harbour at ten after which I go
to the office to deal with anything which may be there. I can’t get a reply from
Lindsay and I am supposed to ring her as it’s a lot cheaper for me to do so on
Skype.
Having left the dogs for longer than I want to I return home. David has ‘phoned
me with a few simple computer problems. I have said I will have a look and
drive up to his house with the dogs. His dog is a bit boisterous for our two and
we have to separate them. The problems are easily solved.
I go back to the office, taking the dogs to check to see if anything has come in
and to try Lindsay again. Nothing new and no reply from Lindsay. I take the
rest of the day off but do manage to get hold of Lindsay on the mobile. She has
been in the gym.
After a bit more puppy training I give the dogs their first treatment for tics and
fleas. The vet has said I have to keep them apart for an hour while the
treatment dries. They are not happy being tied up.
All there is left to do is cook dinner and go to bed. It really has been a quiet day
in paradise.
Day 144 – Tuesday. As usual, the power has run out by morning and I start
the generator. After a few moments I notice the power has not come back on.
The generator is running but producing no power. I check everything but with
negative results. Standing in a confined room with the generator running
pouring fumes everywhere and the door closed (because of the neighbours) I
rapidly begin to choke and retreat for some fresh air. Several more attempt
produces nothing so I turn it off and wait for the sunlight to charge the batteries
sufficiently for me to have a shower.
I have to go to Jolly Harbour to pick up a big cheque and pay it into the bank.
Rather than leave the dogs, I take them with me. They seem quite content to sit
in rear luggage compartment while I drive around although, every so often,
Sunny’s head appears between the rear seat headrests as she has a look
around. On my way from Jolly Harbour to the bank I call in at the generator
supplier. He thinks I have the generator in the back of the car but I point out it is

hard enough for Lindsay and me to get it into the car. There is no way I can do
it on my own. He says he will send someone out to have a look.
After paying in the cheque it is my intention to go to see the garage repairing
Lindsay’s car and call in at various other places but when I get back to my car I
notice one of the dogs has thrown up all over the back seat. I presume it’s
Sunny since she was frequently sticking her head over the seat back. It seems
I have been driving them around for too long so I feel I had better take them
home. Before anyone thinks I have been leaving them sitting in the car in the
baking sun, I am somewhat more considerate. After getting out of the car and
locking it, I restart the engine using the remote start so they have the benefit of
the air conditioning while I am away from the car.
Back home I discover that Nissan has also thrown up in the rear luggage
compartment. Later I take them to the office with me and, despite their earlier
experience they still seem happy to get into the car.
I have been invited to Terry and Connie’s boat for dinner so I take the dogs to
the Tot at Calabash and give them a little run on the beach before taking them
back home for the evening and leaving them while I go out to dinner. On the
way home I suffer severe stomach cramps which, I presume it is as a result of
the rather spicy roti I had for lunch. My stomach, somewhat upset, I feel I am
not to keen to get stuck on a boat in the middle of the harbour and I am not sure
I will make a great dinner guest if I have to keep running off to the toilet so I
telephone Terry with my apologies. Rather than eat anything else I drink a pint
of milk and have a try at relaxing in Lindsay’s hammock. She is right about the
cool breeze but after a few minutes I am too uncomfortable and resort to the
settee. I would lie on the couch on the veranda but there is no peace from the
dogs, both vying for attention.
Day 145 – Wednesday. I am not sure whether the repair has been done to the
generator and I am out of electricity. I start it up and it’s still not charging.
Since I don’t want to wait until they come and repair it I start to look at ways I
can get it into the car by myself. For some time I have considered that if it had
bigger wheels it would be much easier to handle. The existing wheels are
under the bodywork and if I can remove the axles and replace them with longer
ones then I can fit the bigger wheels on the outside. Life is never that simple.
The axles are welded in place. I will have to think of another scheme.
Lindsay rings to tell me that she has dropped off the computer but no-one is
there to give her a replacement. It may be my suspicious nature but, when I get
to the office I ring her back to suggest she unpacks the new computer in front of
them and checks the serial number and makes sure it works. Also, yesterday,
Lindsay had suggested she give up her place at the Tower of London Tot in
favour of Geoff Pidduck. I advise her that I didn’t spend an extra US$100 to
change her flight so she could go only to have her give it up. I tell her I have e-
mailed Graeme to make sure she doesn’t.

By seven thirty I have already had two ‘phone calls regarding the Marine
Exhibition and when I reach the office I receive a third from one of the
Government’s junior Minister’s who wants to meet up. I am already meeting
with Stan and Callie at three thirty but the Minister can’t do it any later than two.
I suggest I will attempt to alter our arrangements to suit him.
My idea for wheels for the generator are twofold. Hopefully, if one doesn’t work
the other will. I drive to the outskirts of St. John’s to where there is a good
builder’s merchants. I debate over six inch or eight inch wheels or eight inch
and decide on the eight. Next are the fixings. I need to extend the axels by a
couple of inches and buy an aluminium tube for that purpose. Fixing it to the
axels will be easy using the split pin holes which held the old wheels. As
spindles for the wheels I find some appropriate sized bolts. My only concern is
whether the aluminium tube will be strong enough so, plan two. I buy sixteen
three inch bolts so that, if necessary, I can drill and bolt the old, small wheels to
the new large wheels. It would be quite a lot of effort but it would work. In
trying to work out the length of axel tube I need I offer up one of my eight inch
wheels to the end of the axle. It actually goes under the bodywork of the
generator, just fouling it. Unfortunately, the underside of the bodywork also
slopes downward. I work out that if I go back and buy seven inch wheels and
put spacers made from my tube inboard on the axles they should clear the
bodywork.
It’s a drive back to St. John’s to change the wheels. Since I left the dogs last
time I feel it unfair and take them. Mistake, one of them throws up in the
luggage compartment.
My plan for the seven inch wheels works perfectly except on the fourth wheel.
Something is fouling it. Looking underneath I see a bolt protruding. I can either
grind the end off or remove it. The bolt is attaching the battery housing floor
and since I have extended the battery cables and leave the battery out of the
generator to stop it boiling, the floor is irrelevant. I remove the bolt. How come
the last one is always the most difficult. The space is just too long. A few clouts
with a club hammer soon shortens it. It fits and the generator is now much
easier to wheel.
A lorry arrives and delivers a pile of sand, a hundred or so breeze blocks and a
dozen bags of cement. I think Sandy has given in to the neighbour and agreed
to build a shed on the other side of the house for the generator. It’s all a bit
unnecessary as APUA are back putting up telegraph poles. Something which
hadn’t occurred to me and I wonder whether it had occurred to others, the poles
stand out right in the middle of the view and will only look worse when strung
with wires.
I just about have enough time to take a shower and get to my meeting which
goes on until four. The Minister suggests we put down a wooden floor in the
marquee. He has offered EC$500 as a contribution to flooring costs. I point out

that we have a budget of EC$7,500 for flooring and, adding a wood floor, at a
guess, would cost a further EC$2,500. I tell him we appreciate his offer of
EC$500 but that our budget is already very tight. I suggest that if the
Government will underwrite any losses then we will do whatever he wishes. I
don’t get an answer to my implied question.
Having taken the dogs home to feed them I have agreed to meet David at the
Tot at Calabash. He is having more problems with his laptop and he will bring it
down. I leave early and take the dogs for a walk on the beach. There are two
mothers with a couple of toddlers. The toddlers are quite keen to play but the
dogs, seeing two ‘aliens’, run the other way. I know the feeling.
Back home there is a note from the generator man saying he needs a part and
will come back tomorrow. The generator is in bits but at least I don’t need to
manhandle it into the back of the car.
Day 146 – Thursday. I have had a rotten night’s sleep. It’s all Lindsay’s fault.
There are two cans of insect spray. On Tuesday one ran out and I threw the
empty can away. Last night I picked up the other can and it was also empty.
As usual, the room is full of flying, biting, bugs and I can do nothing about it.
They must have thought it was Christmas, New Year and their birthdays all
rolled into one. There are a lot of contented, bloated mosquitoes around but
they better not get too complacent as I intend to buy a fresh can today.
As usual, no power and it’s overcast so the solar panels will take a little while to
charge the batteries enough for me to have a shower. I am relaxing on the bed
reading when Sandy disturbs my peace. His workmen have arrived to start
erecting the shed. I suggest they might cut the grass while they are around.
As the dogs will not stop barking at the workmen I take them to the office. They
like it in the office because of the air conditioning and the cool tiled floor. They
always settle down to sleep immediately. Alexis arrives, back from holiday and
comments the dogs have shrunk. The last dogs he saw in the office were Mike
and Anne’s and I must have neglected to tell him we acquired two of our own.
He also notes they are much better behaved.
Alexis says he is really glad to be back. Spending five weeks in Europe has
reminded him why he moved here in the first place. I tell him that Lindsay said
the other day she couldn’t wait to come home. Her going back to the U.K. was
obviously a good thing.
Somehow, in the move to Antigua I have overlooked my March copy of
Yachting World and it’s lying, unread, in the magazine rack. Scanning through
the adverts. I see a house for sale in Antigua. I am pretty sure I know which
one it is and, anyway, it’s more than we want to spend. Almost opposite is an
ad. For a Dehler 43. The perfect boat for us. I wonder if it’s still for sale and
check on the web. It is. I ring the broker and make a tentative, silly offer. It’s

not rejected out of hand. If they say yes, I am going to have to sell the idea to
Lindsay but I do know someone who will sail it out here for me.
Ten minutes after speaking to the broker the ‘phone rings. It’s Tim Wall. He
has been speaking to his solicitor and he tells me the people buying his land
seem to have disappeared. I already know that and have been waiting for him
to confirm it. He says he has instructed his solicitor to make one last attempt to
contact them and if she has no luck then we can start to negotiate. He is going
away for two to three weeks and will contact me on his return.
I am not happy with the way things are going with the Marine Expo. When
taking on the job of organising it I was given the impression all it needed was for
the physical structure to be put in place and exhibitors and sponsors who were,
apparently, queuing up in the background, would flock to take stands. This is
far from the case. I send an e-mail explaining that not only was I not expecting
to have to sell the exhibition I am entirely the wrong person to do it as I don’t
have the contacts. I could spend two hours making twenty ‘phone calls and
never speak to the right person. Unless the Marine Association puts people
onto selling stands and sponsorship we are going to have a financial and
promotional flop.
Still no generator so Sandy brings up his new one just imported from the U.S..
It starts but won’t charge. Both Sandy and I think something has gone wrong
with the inverter but since neither of us has read the ‘book of words’ we haven’t
the faintest idea what to do about it.
Last night David had said something about coming around to dinner. I’m not
sure if he meant tonight but having heard nothing, I presume not.
Day 147 – Friday. As I take the dogs for their 6.30 am walk I notice Sandy’s
generator is still sitting beside ours so I try to run it as I have no electricity and it
is overcast so it will take a while for the solar panels to be effective. Sandy’s
generator still won’t charge but a side affect is that the dogs go absolutely
berserk. Something about the noise of the generator frightens the life out of
them.
Eventually, there is enough solar power for me to have a shower and I go to the
office – with the dogs. Alexis has a meeting with a client who want some
photography and I am trying to chase the Tourist Board for the numbers of the
Marine Guide they require. As might be expected, I can’t get an answer from
anyone.
I have been in the office for about six hours and have been fairly neglectful of
the dogs. Nissan reminds me of my dereliction of duty by peeing on the floor.
No sooner have I cleared that mess up than Sunny follows suit. It’s time to shut
up and go home.

Sandy and one of his men are fiddling with his generator and start it up to run
some power tools. The dogs have another panic attack. I had my back to them
and Sandy’s man points out that Nissan is stuck halfway through the gate.
Sunny has completely disappeared. With difficulty, I extract Nissan and shut
him onto the veranda. I go looking for Sunny. I can hear her whining but can’t
trace the source of the sound. I hope she hasn’t gone under the wood pile as it
will be impossible to extract her. I work out the noise is coming from the front
porch. I presume she has gone through the gate and Nissan has tried to follow.
The front porch is fully enclosed but has a gap at the bottom. I would never
have believed she could squeeze through it but then I never thought she would
get through the gate. I put her on the veranda with Nissan but they are both still
in a flat panic, scrabbling to get into the house. I break the golden rule and let
them in. The rush to the furthest corner of the house, the kitchen, and hide
under the kitchen cabinets. Even enticements of dog biscuits will not make
them move.
Steadroy, the generator repairer arrive. I give him a hand with the less
sophisticated stuff and Sandy looks on making calamitous comments. After an
hour the generator is up and running and working perfectly. Apparently, the
batteries are so low that Sandy’s new generator didn’t have enough power to
kick-start them and, therefore, it just tripped out. We go upstairs and have a
cold drink. Steadroy notices a copy of The Da Vinci Code which he is reading.
Like me, he has some sympathy with the way the text deals with certain
religious matters. Personally, I think the book is rubbish and, evidently, the
author doesn’t have the courage to carry through with his conviction that religion
is a load of nonsense. What surprises me is on an island which is so patently
religious that Steadroy holds similar, if not quite so deep-rooted, convictions as
me.
David rings and asks me to dinner on Sunday night. I point out that Lindsay is
back on Saturday and suggest he comes to us instead.
Life is closing for a month and they arte doing all meals at EC$25. I go down
with a view to eating but once there I am not exactly in the mood and after a
couple of cokes, go home.
Day 148 – Saturday. I am due to collect Lindsay from the airport around two
thirty to three so I give the house a good ‘spring clean’ then do some shopping
and return to prepare a pork ‘hot pot’ which can be heated up in the evening so
there’s no real cooking. I also prepare a chicken curry for Sunday night. All this
housework is a bit exhausting and, having an hour so before leaving for the
airport I decide on a little siesta, waking up a bit later than expected. It’s a bit of
a rush to get to the airport plus I need some petrol. I am halfway to the airport
when the ‘phone rings. It’s Lindsay. The ‘plane has landed half an hour early
and she is through Immigration. As I drive into the airport Lindsay rings again.
She is through Customs and waiting outside.

I load the bags and the computer into the car and Lindsay tells me she was
searched by Customs. They weren’t the slightest bit interested in the computer
and didn’t even look at the paperwork, however, they questioned her about the
video player and the cigars. She told them the video player was old and the
cigars cost £150 (in reality £500). They obviously mistook the £150 for EC$150
and charged her just over EC$80. She had also been charged £75 excess
baggage at Gatwick, not because she was overweight but because she had
three bags and they only permit two per passenger. Seems crazy it it’s within
the weight limit. One of the reasons for travelling Premium is to get the extra
baggage allowance.
Back home the dogs greet Lindsay enthusiastically but not quite with the
rapturous welcome she was hoping for. I’ve obviously been looking after them
too well. Lindsay unpacks and I get to work setting up the video player. The
television will not recognise it and after much fiddling I manage to get a picture
in slow motion with voices which sound drunk. Occasionally, I get the picture
running at normal speed but with strange, high pitched sound. In desperation, I
look at the instructions to see how to alter the tracking but to no avail. Having
tried to connect the video with first a normal T.V. cable and then the DVD Scart
cable I try an independent Scart cable. It’s too short so I lift the video to the
shelf above and it works perfectly but not on the Scart cable. The normal T.V.
cable is still connected. The light dawns on me or, at least, I think it does. I
have had the video on top of the DVD player so maybe that has been interfering
with the video but then in the U.K. I had the same arrangement with no ill
effects. It then dawns on me. Under the DVD player is the transformer which
converts our 110 volts to 220 volts. It must be putting out quite a magnetic field.
I tell Lindsay who says she had seen somewhere in the instructions something
about not putting the video near a magnetic field.
Lindsay is quite impressed by my dog training as they sit without being told
when their food appears and, later, when we take them out, they sit to
command.
David’s car is in for repair and he says he will walk down to us at five thirty so
we can give him a lift. No sign of him so we drive up to his house and get within
a few yards when he appears. He had walked partway to us when he
remembered he’d left the hose running into his swimming pool and had to go
back.
There are some new people at the Tot and, as usual, the dogs go down very
well. Everyone seems to have an opinion that they have some pedigree in
them. We know they are just local mutts. Sunny has been described as a
Dalmatian, a Spaniel and an English Setter. Tonight it is suggested Nissan is a
German Pointer.
Day 149 – Sunday. My plans to put a second coat of paint on the gates and
build a third one are put on hold. It starts raining, copiously, with lots of thunder

and lightening, and it goes on and on. Without Mike Rose here to give us his
doom and gloom forecasts we can only presume this is a tropical wave coming
through. Since most of the veranda slopes towards the house and the wind is
in the south it is soon flooded not that dogs mind, paddling around in the water.
To make matters worse, they go out into the garden and play in the mud. Two
very dirty, bedraggled dogs reappear. All my cleaning of the veranda yesterday
is completely wasted.
Sandy takes generator away accompanied by much barking and, a few
minutes, he starts it. Despite the fact it’s over 100 yards away the dogs still
panic but not as badly. After it’s being running for a while they seem to forget
about it. It will be interesting to see what happens when it next starts up.
The storm seems endless. By lunch time I want to go out and get a few things
but I dare not as I would be drenched crossing the ten yards from the front door
to the car and, looking south, there is nothing but rain. The temperature is
down just over 70 and feels quite cool. With a few breaks, the rain continues
until evening.
When Steadroy left on Friday the back panel was not attached to the generator
and he said he’d come back the next day to fix it. I told him not to bother saying
I could easily screw it back on. When I go to do so I find many more nuts and
bolts than I can find holes for them. Because of the rain I have left it a bit late
and really need to run the generator so I screw in three bolts and hope for the
best.
Since David is without a car and is coming to dinner, we take him to the Tot. It
turns out to be quite a sociable evening and we get home later than expected. I
have prepared most of the dinner before we left home so it doesn’t take me long
to finish a few trimmings. The only place we can eat around a table is on the
veranda which means taking down the barrier keeping the dogs out. They have
a whale of a time running around the house and can’t quite understand when
they are subsequently shut out again. By nine thirty David is ready to be driven
home. It still surprises me how early things wind up out here.
Day 150 – Monday. Lindsay bought me three pairs of casual trousers in the
U.K.. She has a habit of buying me trousers and, usually, if the waist fits the
legs are too long (a sign of incipient middle age spread?). She assures me
these will fit. I try them on and, yes, they do fit but they would fit anyone with a
waist from 24” to 44”. They have a strange elasticised waist band
I arrive in the office to 166 e-mails. On Friday I had sent an e-mail to all
potential exhibitors or at least I tried to. Having set up a special e-mail address
to deal with marine expo through AOL and having advised them of what I was
doing as they had, once already, blocked the account, as soon as I tried again
they blocked it again so I sent the e-mails via my office e-mail address.

Unfortunately, it records every undelivered e-mail and, on one of them, it had
over fifty attempts at delivery.
Antigua is full of little surprises. Despite having told the bank not to post items
to our home address as there is no mail delivery in our ‘remote’ locality they still
send us post to home. The Antiguan Post Office is obviously brighter than the
bank. The post lady arrives outside the office clutching an envelope and asking
for a John Duffy. The fact she knows I have an office here is quite a surprise.
Having cleared my desk of urgent items I unpack the new computer.
Fortunately, it works but the cable I have brought which is supposed to transfer
data from one to the other doesn’t work. I ring Alexis who I know has one and
ask him to drop it in.
Since Lindsay doesn’t have a car I have agreed to drive her to St. John’s to do
some shopping. When I arrive at the house she tells me the dogs got a bit bent
out of shape when I left because I didn’t take them with me. She had to bribe
them with a biscuit. I must have been too soft on them in her absence.
Before food shopping, we go to the post office – all bank statements. At the
check out in the supermarket, Lindsay says she likes shopping with me
because we always spend more. I am not sure that’s a good thing.
Alexis doesn’t arrive at the office until quarter to five so it takes me until after six
to load all the information from my laptop into the new computer. Fortunately,
everything goes smoothly although testing the Skype connection I ring Lindsay
three times and she tells me to try someone else if I need to do it again. I am
trying to set it up without using headphones and decide I will leave it until
tomorrow.
Lindsay has dug out a few of our videos (we have three to four hundred in the
store room) and, now that we have a working video player, we settle down to
watch one. It has been raining on and off all day and now gets very heavy with
large lightening flashes in the west. Earlier I looked at a satellite picture of the
Caribbean and the whole area was covered in cloud. I suspect we are in for a
wet few days. About six inches has fallen in the past twenty four hours and
everything is flooded.
Day 151 – Tuesday. I am awoken at 5.30 by a rushing sound. I identify it as
water and presume it is the ‘river’ we diverted from the back of the house into
the land next door. It is still dark and I wait until quarter to six before going
outside to look. The river has burst it’s banks and there are six inches of water
flowing at high speed past the bottom of steps from the veranda. I put on a pair
of shorts style swimming trunks and set to with a spade. I struggle to open one
of the gates against the flow of water made worse by the fact that I am
attempting to open it the wrong way. After about half an hour I have diverted

the main ‘river’ and start on the secondary one. Lindsay comments that there
must be few people who are ‘two river families’.
Having completed my tasks I go to start the generator but find the battery flat.
The isolator switch I had wired in has been hanging in the water and, shortcircuiting,
has drained the battery. I have to jump-start the generator.
Sandy appears. His basement has been flooded and he is fuming at the
neighbour who has caused all the problem. He wants to take some photos so I
use Lindsay’s camera and, later, e-mail them to him.
For some reason I am itching all over and I notice that I am coming up in a rash
particularly under my armpits and in areas concealed by my shorts but also in a
variety of other places. The rash becomes large patches of solid, livid red. I
suspect I have touched the leaves or berries of a Manchineel tree which has
been washed down by the water.
I arrive, late, into the office and open my e-mails. One is from Anne Hughes. I
haven’t heard from Anne in a while. She used to send me pithy comments
roughly once a week and I had wondered whether things were not going too
well. I have a premonition this is bad news. Alan has been suffering from
cancer and, so far, has lived much longer than expected. My premonition is
correct. Alan died yesterday. I had a lot of time for Alan. He was always
friendly and helpful in the Club and I counted him amongst my friends. His
funeral is in Spain and I am sorry I won’t be able to be there.
The proofs have arrived from the printers so, at lunch time, I collect Lindsay
and, together with Alexis, we go through them all. Quite surprisingly, there are
around half a dozen errors, mostly minor but some I had already corrected but
don’t seem to have been picked up. Lindsay leaves in my car at about four to
feed and walk the dogs and I get on with the uploading of the corrections. It
occurs to me that Lindsay will not be able to start the generator as I have left all
the battery wire disconnected. There is nothing I can do about it without a car.
The internet is on another go-slow and, by the time Lindsay arrives just before
six I still have one file in the process of uploading and another waiting. We
leave it and go over to Calabash for the Tot. On our return I Lindsay persuades
me to leave the final file until the morning.
At home I go to start the generator and forget to turn on the fuel switch. The
generator turns over but doesn’t start. By the time I realise my error the jump
starter is flat. By using a collection of cables I connect my battery charger
which has a 55amp start facility but there isn’t enough power left in the house
batteries to allow it to work. An hour later, the power goes of and we are
reduced to torches and candles.
Day 152 – Wednesday. Up at five thirty and in the office by six with the battery
charger and battery. It has rained a lot more in the night and the road are in an

even worse state than yesterday. At one stage I get stuck and have to switch
on four wheel drive to get moving.
Carrying everything into the office is two trips and I go down for the second trip
and the car is locked. A moments panic as I think I have locked the keys in the
car. Is the spare in the office or at home? With Lindsay having no car I hope
it’s in the office. I then realise I must have taken the keys with me in order to
unlock the office and I have left them on the desk rather than put them in my
pocket.
My rash from yesterday has disappeared to be replaced by a number of large
bite looking spots which either have blisters on them or little white heads. I am
now not sure whether it was a Manchineel tree or maybe something in the water
bit me. I don’t seem to be having any ill effects and they don’t itch but I do look
rather like the tourists you see walking around with lots of red blotches on their
arms and legs. Normally, when I get bitten, there is a red spot for about fifteen
minutes and then it disappears. People who have been here a long time don’t
even react that much.
Being in the office I take the opportunity to upload the remaining file. They will
think I am very keen since it’s only 6.30. The internet is on top form and half the
file shoots off at 6,350 kb per second. It then drops back to between 50 and
200 kb per second. A better performance than last night which means that the
remaining half takes another couple of minutes.
I am not sure how long to leave the battery charging as the dial stubbornly
refuses to move past the 50% mark. If it’s not moved by eight I will presume the
battery is charged and try my luck. Ray, the office landlord, predicts that the
battery is dead and that I have wasted my time. When I get back home I think
he is right. I wire the battery back on and try to start the generator. It’s dead. I
take the battery off and prepare to drive to St. John’s and buy a new one.
Lindsay makes a comment about the isolator switch which makes me think that
maybe, as the isolator switch was hanging in the water, there is a fault with it.
Rather than screw the battery back on I put a foot on one terminal and hold the
other with my left hand. Turning the key with my right hand, more in hope than
expectation, the engine fires. Of course, I now have a running generator with
two loose battery wires. There is no way I’m turning off the generator until the
house batteries are charge so I separate the two leads and hope for the best.
Halfway through breakfast, I receive a call from Alexis. The printers want us to
deal with the proofs in a manner differently from the way we have done it. The
proofs are all boxed up and waiting for FedEx to come and collect them. I rush
to the office, still not having had a shower, and make the necessary alterations.
I have finished by ten and have to sit and wait for FedEx who are due before
eleven.

Yesterday I sent Callie an e-mail asking where she had disappeared to. I hadn’t
heard from her since last week. Big mistake, she has responded with twenty
nine e-mails and it’s still not eleven. Hurry up FedEx so I can get out of the
office. By the end of the day it’s 33 e-mails.
With the arrival of FedEx I am able to go home and have a shower and shave
but before them I need to rewire the battery. Since it’s the isolator switch which
isn’t working I can either replace it or take it apart and try to find the problem.
The switch isn’t designed to be taken apart. Having nothing to lose I prise it
open. There is nothing obvious wrong so I give the internal parts a good clean.
Naturally, it won’t go back together again but, searching through miscellaneous
nuts and bolts, I find four which fit through the stud holes and screw the whole
lot together. It works.
Showered, shaved and changed I go back to the office to find the doors and
window shutters wide open. Have we been burgled? Alexis had just arrived at
the office when a German client turned up and he hadn’t had time to clip back
the shutters and shut the doors. The German client pays his bill in cash and in
Euros.
As I had parked outside the office one of the policemen who had attended our
break-in asked me why we hadn’t called to make a statement. I pointed out that
we had rung twice and called, twice also, at the police station but no-one
seemed to know about our case so we gave up. He asked me to prepare a
statement and deliver it to the police station for his attention.
I also have to prepare an affidavit for an industrial tribunal case in the U.K..
Having drawn it up I ring our solicitor and ask if I can swear it before her. I am
advised I have to go to the Court but that they can prepare it for me. I inform
her that I have already prepared the affidavit and that it just needs swearing. I
get the feeling she’s a bit miffed.
The bar downstairs has finally received it licence so it can now open officially
and they are throwing a party. There is also a curry cooking competition at
Calabash but, not having had time to prepare anything we give it a miss and go
to the party instead.
Day 153 – Thursday. I review my police statement and affidavit and make a
few alterations. Also, I ring Interflora to send some flowers to Alan’s funeral.
The connection is not good and I have to spell the address in Spain
phonetically. I hope they get there.
It’s off to St. John’s to pay the Euros into the bank account, go and see the
garage, again, about Lindsay’s car, get the headphones for the computer sorted
as no-one seems to be able to hear me on them and swear the affidavit. At
least they have started work on Lindsay’s car. The engine is out and in bits.

You can see the hole in the side of the block. The garage say it will be ready
tomorrow. I am not normally pessimistic but I think the mechanic is a supreme
optimist. I say I will call back on Monday morning to collect the car.
Driving into the centre of St. John’s to go to the Court to have the affidavit sworn
I notice a solicitor’s office with a sign outside saying Notary Public. In the U.K.
you can swear documents before a Notary Public. A car conveniently pulls out
of a parking space in front of me so I stop. The office is at the end of a
meandering set of corridors and on the first floor. The two rooms are occupied
by one elderly lady who confirms that I can swear the affidavit before her. As
she is the only person in the office she answers the ‘phone while dealing with
my affidavit. From the conversation, it is obvious she is very knowledgeable on
the law. I begin to think I wish she was my solicitor. She charges me EC$40. I
am not sure whether I would have been charged at the Court, probably,
knowing Antigua but even if there wasn’t a charge it is worth the EC$40 to avoid
the inefficiency I am sure I would have come across in the Courts.
I have a couple of hours to spare before my meeting with the ACYM Board so I
am printing Desmond Nicholson’s brief history of Nelson’s period in Antigua.
He wants fifty copies and I quoted him EC$200 which is probably not worth our
time doing but the old boy is one of the pioneers of the resurgence of Nelson’s
Dockyard so I feel I ought to do him a favour.
The meeting with the ACYM Board is postponed until ten tomorrow. No real
surprise since very little here ever goes according to schedule.
Last night I was asked again if I would take on Fleet Captain at the yacht club. I
said I would consider it but I have discovered the you cannot take on a
Committee position until you have been a member for more than a year.
Tonight the Tot is at the yacht club and I have said I will give my decision. I
raise the question of the membership period and I am told it’s likely to be
overlooked but, if not, the current Fleet Captain will remain in post until I have
been a member for a year and I would deputise then take over. I think I have
been talked into it.
We have taken the dogs with us but Liz also has hers which are well behaved
but David’s dog is always a nuisance when other dogs are around. He wants to
play and play boisterously which disrupts everything and spills drinks
everywhere. David takes no notice and it spoils things for everyone. Our two
are very well behaved.
Day 154 – Friday. Lindsay has a meeting at nine with the organisers of the boat
show. She and Roger are going to try to persuade them to put a leaflet into
each of the bags which go to all the boat show visitors. The leaflet is fund
raising for the Amazing Grace Foundation. My first meeting is in the office, also
at nine. Lindsay is back, successful, before any of the three people meeting me
have turned up. They drift in either side of 9.30. The four of us are due to meet

up with the ACYM Board at ten. We arrive on time but no-one else does. The
meeting eventually gets going at twenty to eleven. We have decided to take a
tough stand on the way the exhibition is being handled within the boat show and
we get our pint of view over. To be honest, they had no choice. Without us,
there would be no exhibition.
Yesterday I managed to print all Desmond Nicholson’s booklets and Lindsay
has stapled them together. I have a few e-mails and telephone calls to deal
with and then I take Lindsay home for a late lunch. Sandy appears. He has a
new truck and I accuse him of charging us too much rent but, at least, one of his
men has cut our lawn. Sandy wants me to come with him on Sunday to see
Bruce, the neighbour who complains about our generator and who has caused
all our water problems. I am led to believe Bruce is a bit of a bully. The
encounter should be interesting.
When I get back to the office I telephone Desmond who is very surprised that
everything has been done so quickly. Either he’s been in Antigua too long or I
have not been here long enough. Also, he has been having computer problems
and wants some advice. I am not sure why I have suddenly become the local
computer expert. The sooner Graeme gets back the better.
I have been waiting all week for the ministry of Tourism to give me an answer
on the number of Marine Guides they need shipping to their overseas
embassies. Despite numerous calls I still have not been given a figure. I have
just completed a long e-mail explaining exactly what I want when the ‘phone
rings. It’s the Ministry of Tourism. After a bit of haggling we agree some
numbers and charges. The amount they pay is about 8% of our gross income
so their order is quite important.
As I pull into the drive the little, long haired dog appears from nowhere. How I
missed running him over I have no idea. He’s done this to me a couple of
times. He’s obviously getting used to me and rolls over to have his tummy
tickled. I pick him up and tell Lindsay I am going to take him home. I think I
know where he lives. He sits on my lap as I drive him up the hill. I am unsure
between two houses as to which is his. I try the bell at the first but there is no
reply. I try the second and I am greeted by a Labrador which is delighted to see
his little ‘pal’. The two dogs have visited us together in the past so I presume
the two are connected. I just manage to feed the little dog through an upper
part of the gate and lower him to the ground.
Friday night’s in the U.K. were always a night we went to the yacht club for a
drink. The pattern is different here although there is still a bit of the Friday night
syndrome. There are lots of people in Calabash and Seon, the barman, is on a
different planet tonight. After a couple of drinks we are ready to go home. We
discuss having one more and Seon, misunderstanding us, produces two shots
of Tequila. These shots are about four times the U.K. size and virtually
impossible to down in one. It was the start of a slippery slope.

Day 155 – Saturday. Moving very slowly we get up late. Well, not too late as
the digs are demanding attention. It’s just as well the weather is a bit damp as it
means I can’t do the things outside I intended and I need the excuse. Lindsay
was proposing to top up her tan but the overcast sky dissuades her.
I need petrol, the generator needs diesel, Lindsay needs some provisions and I
need to check on flight arrival times. I am collecting Mike and Anne from the
airport. The dogs always get a bit upset when I leave in the car without them.
Equally, they know the sound of the car engine and always make a fuss as I
park in the drive. I take them with me not that there will be much opportunity for
them to get out except when I go into the office. I forget Lindsay’s order for
chocolate coated peanut M & Ms. Not a popular move.
On my way to the airport I get waved down by a woman in uniform. She wants
a lift. There are few buses on this route and I tell her I will take as far as the
airport turn off. She doesn’t stop talking the whole way just about giving me her
whole life history and extracting the same from me in ten minutes. She works
for a security company and must be on commission. She warns me about
burglaries and recommends using a security company. I tell her it’s too late but
despite this she insists she wants one of my cards. I must be a bit slow after
last night. I could have said I don’t have any with me but, instead, I give her
one. I now expect to be inundated with security information but, at least, it will
be at the office.
I arrive at the airport and can’t see Mike and Anne. I pull into the No Parking
zone as usual and am approached by a policeman. I explain I am here to pick
up some people and he asks if I can see them. When I say no he directs me to
the car park. As I walk back to the terminal I see Mike. I tell him I will have to
go and collect the car. That policeman caused me to walk a couple of hundred
yards in each direction for nothing. I load Mike and Ann’s bags into the car and
one is extremely heavy. I ask Mike what he has in it. Onions! I point out that
onions are available in Antigua. He explains they were staying next to an onion
farm and were given a large quantity free. He thought he would be able to give
them away in the U.K. but no-one wanted them so they were left in his bag.
On the way back we collect Mike and Anne’s two dogs who have just been
washed down with a hose and are very wet. The go into the luggage are of the
car. Wet dog smell pervades everywhere. We then collect the cat Anne
spends another ten minutes chatting to the kennel owner. Mike and I muse
over what women find to talk about. Back at Mike and Anne’s house I hang
around to make sure Mike’s car starts which it does and I leave with half a
dozen onions.
On my way home I open the window in the tailgate to blow some air through to
get rid of the wet dog smell. I can open the window remotely from the driver’s
seat. It hinges upward but stubbornly refuses to open more than and inch. A

large pothole (not difficult to find in Antigua) resolves the problem. As I am on
the last stretch home I see Lindsay in the distance walking the dogs. . Lindsay
asks about my open tailgate and I explain the reason. She declines the lift home
but the dogs are quite keen to get into the car.
I have just settled down to read my book when there is a voice from outside
calling ‘John & Lindsay’ rather plaintively. It’s Charlie. Lindsay goes to the
door. Charlie’s car has broken down. Charlie’s car is a bit of a standing joke.
Even the mechanics have told her it would be cheaper to buy a new one but
Charlie won’t have it. Lindsay asks if I will give Charlie a lift home. I could do
without it but agree. As I walk out the door I see Charlie’s car broadside across
our drive. Apparently, the engine failed as she reached the top of the hill and
she had to roll down backwards until she reached our drive. I suggests she
opens the bonnet. It occurs to me that, being American, Charlie may not
understand the terminology. Obviously, she must have been asked to do it a lot
as she immediately reaches for the lever and even instructs me as to where the
release is underneath. It is immediately apparent that an ignition wire has come
loose. I go back into the house and get a Stanley knife and a small wrench. I
trim the wire back and refit it under the clamp from where it had detached itself.
The car starts and Charlie is suitable impressed. Charlie suggests I might move
my car to ensure she doesn’t hit it as she leaves.
We are having a quiet night in and now that we have liberated our videos and
DVDs we have quite a lot we can watch. Lindsay has done a baked banana
dessert. Unfortunately, I cannot eat it. I have never been able to stand even
the smell of baked bananas since I was given one at the age of five on the
Bloemfontein Castle (a ship) somewhere off the west coast of Africa.
Day 156 – Sunday. I am supposed to be meeting Sandy at ten to go and tackle
the neighbour, Bruce, about the water problem. Sandy turns up twenty minutes
early, just as I am about to step into the shower. It must be the first time
anyone has been early in Antigua. I have my shower and meet him at ten. We
go to Bruce’s house and he explains his water problem. He claims that he has
had the problem for ten years as a result of work carried out by a neighbour.
Sandy and I are not convinced. It’s very difficult to talk to Bruce as he just
continually shouts at you. Must be something to do with him being American.
Back home, I write a letter to Sandy outlining my comments relating to the
meeting and tell him I feel Bruce is being disingenuous. I am puzzled as to why
he has not taken action earlier if he has had the problem for ten years. It is only
since he placed his house on the market and decided to retain a piece of land
adjacent to Sandy’s and where the water course used to run that he has taken
any action to protect his property. In my opinion, he altered the water course
not to protect his house but to make the land he is retaining developable. There
is nothing we can do to counter Bruce’s argument unless it rains again, heavily.

There is a wine tasting at Calabash at lunch time and we decide to go.
Unfortunately, it’s all rosé wine which is not really to my taste. There are nine of
them and I choose number five as my favourite. Lindsay chooses number
seven. Number five turns out to be the most expensive and seven the
cheapest. To be fair Lindsay’s second favourite is number five and seven is my
third favourite.
I would not have thought I would have been pleased to see more rain after the
amount we have had this week but I am when it starts pouring again. Sandy
and I go to check on Bruce’s contention that the water problem is created by
another neighbour. Nothing could be further from the truth. Almost the entire
problem has been created by Bruce diverting the water away from the land he
wants to retain. I add an addendum to my letter to Sandy which I am yet to give
him.
We are going to a charity dinner this evening. Lindsay suggests we go to the
Tot first as quite a number of the members are going to the dinner. I am not
keen as I can see it becoming a long evening but we go anyway. The evening
does become long and tedious. We wait an hour and a half for our food and the
auction and raffle takes nearly two hours. We don’t get home until eleven thirty.
Day 157 – Monday. I have a 9.30 meeting with the MD of a local television
station and I plan to get into the office early to deal with e-mails before going to
the meeting. Sandy appears just as I am getting ready to leave home. He has
delivered a letter he intends to give to Bruce and he wants me to look over the
letter first and also asks for my letter to him. Sandy’s letter is fine, in fact,
Lindsay thinks it’s quite good. I had intended to print my letter in the office
instead I have to unpack the laptop and connect it up to the printer at home. I
print three copies, two for Sandy and one for myself. I suspect Sandy will give
one of the copies to Bruce which won’t make me popular. Later, Sandy tells me
he has and comments that I was able to say things he never could.
The meeting with the T.V. company is fairly brief and we achieve our purpose
which was to procure free cable television for the marine Expo. I go on to the
garage repairing Lindsay’s car. It was supposed to be ready Friday but,
anticipating that probably didn’t mean last Friday, I haven’t bothered to contact
them. I arrive to see a mechanic, head down, under the bonnet but even from
ten yards away I can see that not all the engine is installed. End of the week I
am told. I suggest Thursday. We shall see.
My next meeting is with the ACYM, a bit flexible, 10.30 to 11 as we didn’t know
how long the first meeting would be. I arrive at 10.30 and have to wait for the
others. We finish at around twelve. Having checked and dealt with my e-mails,
made various telephone calls but done no other work I go home to lunch as
Lindsay wants to borrow the car for the afternoon. She drops me back at the
office and, despite all my efforts, continual interruptions prevent me from doing
anything I planned.

Lindsay arrives at 5.30 and there is only one thing to do, go to the Tot.
Day 158 – Tuesday. The dogs are due for their final set of injections so we plan
to take them to the vet first thing in the morning. He examines them and
determines that they are sixteen weeks old as their front teeth have just fallen
out, a week older than we had thought. Nissan is proving not to be a good long
distance car traveller. He throws up as we arrive at the vet and again in the car
on the way back. After having cleaned out the back of the car, again, I
eventually get into the office at 10.30.
Graeme e-mails me and asks for a ‘phone number. I give him the office and my
mobile. As short while later he rings me on the Skype ‘phone he has acquired
for me in the U.K.. I hope the reception is a one off as it is awful. Far worse
than the headset and microphone I have been using. Graeme is arriving on
Saturday and I volunteer to pick him up from the airport.
I have been in the office an hour when I receive a call from Anne-Maria,
secretary to the ABMA. She is moving offices and I had volunteered to give a
hand by loading some stuff into my car. What she wants moved is heavy and
completely fills my car. Furthermore, it is going into storage and has to be
carried up a flight of stairs. Fortunately, someone turns up to give me a hand to
unload. As the storage place is not far from home I take the opportunity to go
home for lunch. The day is disappearing again and I still don’t seem to be
getting on with any real work.
A couple of weeks ago Roger asked if I could search the internet for drawings of
a Montague Whaler. I didn’t find any plans but did find someone in Holland or
Denmark who had restored one and, also, a museum in Australia which had
built one from scratch. A reply has come in from the Dutch/Danish enquiry with
photos and a message saying he is in touch with the people in Australia who
have plans and he will get them for me. I had almost forgotten about the
enquiry. Roger will be pleased.
I have a three thirty appointment with Anna-Maria but, as I have so much to do,
I take the Antiguan attitude and arrive at ten to four. We have a marketing
meeting at 4.30 so I rush through what we need to deal with and arrive at the
yacht club in time to set up the tables in a square to avoid the problems of
previous meetings where one long table tended to lead to several ‘meetings’
going on at the same time.
The marketing meeting is long and protracted and since it was a meeting I
asked to be called I have some specifics I want to achieve. Geoffrey is very
helpful and keeps pushing the point that no-one, apart from himself, has
addressed the issues. Eventually, the point gets home and there is some
reaction but not as positive as I had hoped. We agree to meet again next week
and finally wind up at about quarter to seven.

When I arrive home Lindsay is obviously of the opinion I had gone to the Tot. I
had forgotten to tell her I had the meeting although it did go on a lot longer than
I expected.
Day 159 – Wednesday. I am definitely getting into the office early this morning
and, for a change, there are no interruptions. In two hours I have dealt with
everything to bring me up to where I had hoped to be on Monday morning In
need of something to drink and having forgotten, for several days, to call in at
the car hire company to sort out the car Lindsay hired. Whilst she was away
there was a message on her ‘phone to say the car was missing three hubcaps.
We were a bit surprised since we pointed out that the hubcaps were missing
when we collected the car and I haven’t managed to get around to sorting it.
Also, I must go to the local laundry to see about dry cleaning. My DJ and most
of my suits have suffered as a result of being packed in a container for a couple
of months.
The car hire company had checked their records and realised it was their error.
I still haven’t paid for the car and they haven’t yet worked out the bill as they
don’t know how much discount they are going to give me. Sometimes things
taking a long time in Antigua does have its advantages. The laundry give me
the name of two dry cleaners, both in St. John’s.
I’m not sure why it always happens this way but I am out of the car for five
minutes and when I get back there is a message on my ‘phone. I am just
listening to it when Roger walks past and I am able to give him a copy of the e-
mail with photos.
I have started the printing of the Trafalgar night booklet. It’s going to be a long
process. The laser printer is much slower than the one I had in the U.K. and a
lot noisier. I calculate it’s going to take about sixteen hours to print everything.
In retrospect, I wish I had spent the extra EC$800 and bought the bigger one.
I am a little late going out for lunch and when I arrive at the place where they
sell the spicy patties they have run out. They offer me nuggets and chips or fish
and chips. I ask how long it will take to cook and they say three minutes. I
choose the fish. To say I had to add a nought to their three minutes would be a
bit disingenuous but it took nearer half an hour to cook than three minutes but it
was worth the wait. For EC$15 I had three pieces of fish, a pile of chips and
salad plus half a pint of Fanta all this on top of a big breakfast which, as Lindsay
had gone for a run and I wanted to be in the office early, I had cooked for myself
and it was rather larger than usual.
Coming back from lunch I hear the clink of bottles being unloaded in the bar
below the office. I notice a box with the writing sideways. I can read the word
‘Special’ on the side. I immediately enquire whether they are my bottles of
Youngs Special and they are. The price is going to be a bit high, EC$18 which

is nearly £4 but it will be worth it for real English beer. As soon as they open at
five I am going down for a pint.
It’s ten to five and the thought of a pint is beginning to make me salivate. The
‘phone rings and I am told that the person who was going to make a
presentation at ten tomorrow morning to the Minister of Tourism can’t make it so
I am asked to do it instead. Thanks for the notice.
I go home and collect Lindsay, realising that I have something for Mike Rose
which means catching him at the Tot. We stay for half an hour and retire to the
bar with the Youngs. At long last. Am I going to be disappointed. Apart from
being a little cold, it’s like nectar, bitter nectar. Callie and a friend are at the bar
and we join them which enables me to have another couple of bottles of
Youngs.
Anne has given us a couple of chews for the dogs. They are supposed to be
long lasting but she obviously doesn’t know our dogs, Nissan in particular. He
finishes his chew in about five minutes. Sunny has about a quarter left and is
losing interest. I give her a biscuit and allow Nissan to finish her chew.
Day 160 – Thursday. It’s a long sleeve shirt and a tie for my presentation this
morning. I always think that if you are addressing an audience which is well
known to them selves but where you are a relatively unknown, you can make a
good impression by being smartly dressed and you have a head start on being
accepted.
Before leaving the office for the meeting I try to ring the garage about Lindsay’s
car. There is no reply. The garage has moved but I wonder whether the ‘phone
has followed them. Knowing APUA it will be three weeks before that happens.
I am first to arrive at the meeting which is due to start at ten. In typical Antiguan
fashion, people drift in ten to fifteen minutes late, the Minister arriving twenty
minutes late. Much to my surprise, people continue to drift in over the next hour
or so. The meeting starts at 10.30 and immediately departs from the agenda.
Someone from the ACYM is supposed to speak first followed by me but the
Minister decides he wants people to ask him any questions on any subject
before we get down to the purpose of the meeting. This takes about an hour an
a half and was intended to come at the end of the meeting. By the time it’s my
turn I can see some people are getting a bit bored and there are a few yawns. I
decide I need to inject a bit of amusement. I tell them that normally Callie would
be doing the presentation and since she is young, blonde, buxom and very
vivacious I am sure they would prefer to have her to me but since they are stuck
with me if anyone notices their neighbour dozing off could they please give
them a prod. It raises a few laughs and does seem to get their attention. At the
end of my presentation a number of hands go up to ask questions. Since no
questions had been asked of the previous speaker I turn to the Minister and his

assistant to see if they want me to take questions. They both nod. Obviously
people had been paying attention.
Back at the office I try the garage again but still no reply. I ring the owner’s
home and his wife answers. I tell her about the lack of reply and ask if the
‘phone has been moved to the new premises. She tells me that they haven’t
moved to the new premises yet. I correct her and tell her that not only have I
been to the new premises but also that’s where Lindsay’s car is being repaired.
She grumbles that her husband never tells her anything and gives me another
number. This time there is a reply and they say Lindsay’s car is ready. I let her
know and say I will come home for lunch and then drive her to St. John’s.
We arrive at the garage and the car’s bonnet is open. An ominous sign.
Fortunately, it’s only the battery bracket which needs securing. This seems to
take about fifteen minutes but it is worth it as the bill comes to only EC$3,900.
We drive back in convoy and stop at a garage for Lindsay to fill up with petrol
and check the tyre pressures. Since Lindsay has never used an air pump
before I say I will do it. It is probably just as well. I pick up the line and there is
nothing on the end to dispense the air. I eventually work out that you have to
dial in the pressure on the gauge on the wall then apply the hose to the tyre.
Lindsay tells me her air conditioning isn’t working and, later, I book the car into
a specialist for Saturday morning.
Following Lindsay in the dark I notice that her rear lights aren’t working and,
when we get home, she tells me that the dashboard lights aren’t working either.
Day 161 – Friday. While Lindsay takes the dogs for a walk I secure the
nearside of her front bumper. The garage had failed to do it and, yesterday,
rather than wait for them to do it, I told Lindsay I would do it. The bolts I asked
Lindsay to buy are too long so I have to grind the ends off. I hope I never have
to undo them.
I leave early for St. John’s to collect some more ink cartridges for the laser
printer. At the end of our road is a newly erected sign saying ‘Land for Sale’. I
ring the agent and ask for details. It sounds like a possibility so I ask for
particulars to be faxed to the office. I say I will be in around ten and will ring
again when I have received the particulars.
I need some cash so rather than do my usual and park on the yellow line
outside the bank and then go to the shop, almost opposite, for the cartridges, I
park legally in a nearby space. The door to the bank is stuck so I can’t get in
and have to wait for a security guard to come and un-jam the lock. Things don’t
go too badly in the cartridge shop. They ask if I am entitled to a discount. I say
I always ask for one but don’t always get it. They laugh and give me 10%. I
load the cartridges in the car and prepare to set off. I now discover one of the
disadvantages to a big 4 x 4. As I reverse out of my parking space I feel a
bump. Getting out of the car I see a small car which for no reason I can see,

had stopped directly behind me. The car was too low for me to see through the
rear view window and too short for me to see in the door mirrors. I have put a
small dent in the door. We exchange names and addresses under the watchful
eye of a policeman who doesn’t say a word.
On my way home I call into the garage where the car is to repaired and the car
owner is on the ‘phone to the garage. I tell the garage owner that I will be
paying the bill. My guess, in the U.K., is that it is a couple of hundred pounds of
damage therefore less here. A little later the garage ‘phones and tells me it’s
EC$450, less than £100. The garage is near the airport and I tell him I will drop
a cheque into him tomorrow as I am going to the airport.
There are no faxed particulars from the agent.
My purchase of the new ink cartridges is very timely. I start a new run of the
Trafalgar booklet and two of the colour lights come on telling me the ink is
getting low. Lindsay is in the office with the boring task of stapling all the
booklets together. While she does that I go and check the fuses on her car.
She is also complaining about the throttle sticking. All the fuses are okay and I
fiddle with the throttle cable which seems to free it. While I have the bonnet
open I check the air conditioning unit. Everything seems to be working so it’s
my guess that it just needs re-gassing. I ring the air conditioning man to tell him
I don’t think it’s a major repair and just a re-gassing. He says if it is only that he
can do it in 45 minutes time. Having spoken to the garage about the lights they
say they will attend to them if Lindsay brings the car up this afternoon so she
can do both things at the same time.
Lindsay rings to say the system needs re-gassing because there is a hole in
one of the pipes, presumably melted when they attempted to set fire to the car.
I suggest to Lindsay she may care to buy some lunch while she is out and bring
it back to the office. Mistake. I had forgotten to factor in Antigua time. By the
time they have fixed the air conditioning and the lights but not the sticky throttle
and Lindsay is back in the office it is half past three and she has only brought
me one small roll and a packet of cheeselets. I’m still starving.
My guess is, with the cartridges lights on, the printer toners are getting a bit low
but there is no way of telling for sure. I search the office for the book of
instructions which should have come with the printer but all I can find is a book
telling me, in ten different languages, how to set it up. I remember when I
bought a similar machine in the U.K. it came without instructions and I had to
download them from the internet. In fact, a set is on the disk which comes with
the printer, however, if you want a hard copy, you have to print it yourself, all
176 pages and using ink bought from them. Not only are they saving money
not printing a manual but they are getting you to use ink so you have buy more.
Just as well it’s only in English and not all ten languages.

At about two I ring the land agent and ask about the particulars of the land
which should have been faxed to me. I am told that the owner of the agency
will not fax details. This amazes and annoys me. I wonder if they want to do
any business. Furthermore, if this is the case, why didn’t they telephone me
and say so rather than waiting for me to ‘phone them. I put the ‘phone down in
disgust. Later, I think I may be able to speak directly to the estate agency
owner by ringing the mobile number on the ‘for sale’ board. An automated
voice tells me the number is not one which has been issued.
In the evening I get into a heated discussion with someone who has come to
irritate me. I shouldn’t rise to it but I do. He is always making ridiculous claims
for himself. As an example, recently, he asserted his grandfather invented the
parachute. I was slightly tempted to ask him if his grandfather was French and
lived 250 years ago. Instead, I turned away and made the comment to Lindsay.
This evening he tells me his handshake is worth a million pounds. I doubt it’s
worth ten cents. Certainly, he isn’t worth much more and people who are don’t
need to tell anyone. My patience finally fails when he claims he can blackball
anyone from the Tot Club. He has been a member for about half the time I
have and I point out that he has no such rights and, since the Club has no
constitution, it is, in effect, a proprietors’ Club which, legally, belongs to the
people who set it up which doesn’t include him. He tries to argue the point but
has insufficient legal knowledge to make a case for his point of view. In the end
I have the satisfaction of having him walk away saying he is not prepared to
argue with me further.
Day 162 – Saturday. Although there are a few things I could do - give the gates
a second coat of paint, I am feeling a bit lazy. I have agreed to meet someone
at the yacht club at eleven with a contract for the Marine Expo. We have
agreed to share a stand. The paperwork is in the office so I collect it which also
gives me the opportunity to ring Virgin to see if Graeme’s flight is on time. The
recording says it’s landing at two fifty seven. A bit precise.
At the yacht club, Liz tells me that a ‘fridge and six bar stools have been
delivered to her house by mistake. I ask if they will fit in my car. She assures
me they will so we go to collect them. The ‘fridge goes in easily but the bar
stools are ones with backs like chairs and take up an enormous amount of
volume. With a struggle I get five in the back, the legs of one sticking out a side
window. The sixth I jam in the front with Liz. What went in with a struggle is
almost impossible to get out. During the drive the stools have managed to
enmesh themselves and will not budge. It’s a bit like a Chinese puzzle and the
solution is one of thought not force. Eventually, we extract the first stool then
the rest come easily.
I need to take my DJ to the cleaners and decide to do it on my way to the
airport. I leave myself plenty of time and arrive at the airport before the ‘plane.
Close to the airport there is a sign for car cleaning. Mine is filthy so I take the

opportunity and ask how much. He quotes EC$30. I point out I get it done in
English Harbour for EC$15. We agree EC$20. His car cleaning is even worse
than Jacko’s. As I stand watching him the Virgin flight sweeps overhead, bang
on time.
I drive back to the airport and park in the No Waiting zone, no police around,
and walk to the Customs exit. A few people are coming out. I glance around
and Graeme is behind me. His luggage had been amongst the first off and he
had cleared through in half an hour.
I have forgotten to bring the cheque book so I call into the garage to apologise
and say I will sort it on Monday. No-one has a clue what I am talking about so I
couldn’t have left a cheque anyway.
We decide to eat out a Calabash and Graeme joins us. We don’t sit down until
late and, by the time we have finished, all the other customers have gone and
the owners, Mike and Pam, join us with a bottle of Heather, an equivalent to
Baileys, and give us complimentary drinks. Our bill, including wine, is EC$160,
about £12.50 per head.
Day 163 – Sunday. Another lazy start to the day but we have be in the
dockyard by ten in order to assist with the erection of a temporary flag pole
which will be used on Trafalgar night. There was a failed attempt to erect it last
Sunday which I was unable to attend due to my meeting with Sandy and Bruce.
As a result of that failed attempt, it has been decided that weight needs to be
applied to the base of the mast. The is some discarded pig iron ballast lying in
the mangroves on the opposite side of the harbour. Three of us set off in
Graeme’s dinghy to collect some. As we approach the dock, loaded, Graeme
comments that the added weight causes the dinghy to have increased
momentum as he applies more reverse power to slow us down.
The pig iron duly inserted in and around the base of the flag pole we begin the
lift. The pole is swivelled about four feet from the base and with various people
on guy ropes, it goes up very easily. As it is mainly made of plastic tubing, it is
quite flexible and will require quite a lot of staying to keep it upright. Lowering it
is much more difficult. Everyone is too cautious and holding onto the guy ropes
tightly. Roger and I are at the base. He has his full weight above the swivel
trying to pull it down and I am pulling up from below the swivel. I call for more
slack on the lines and they are eased but Colin, who has fashioned a ‘U’-
shaped contraption on the end of a long rod for supporting the middle of the
pole is still pushing up rather than easing down. He ends up taking the full
weight of the pole, Roger’ weight and me pulling up at the base. He can’t hold it
and the pole comes crashing down only slowed by Roger and me as we reverse
our pull. Being made of plastic, the pole comes to no harm. The plan is to take
the pole apart on Wednesday and move it to the dinner venue where it will be
re-erected.

I think I must be getting into Antigua mode as I can’t be bothered to do much
else for the rest of the day other than watch a video and read a book.
Day 164 – Monday. Lindsay blames her cooking so it’s only fair if I do as well. I
have had an upset stomach all night so have not slept well. I am a bit slow to
get going in the morning and don’t leave for the office until about nine. There is
s a message on the ‘phone from Graeme. He had called by the office with my
Skype ‘phone and not found me in. Also, we had discussed on Friday night him
occasionally borrowing Lindsay’s car rather than hiring one. He asks whether it
is still okay. I tell him I will ring back when I have spoken to the insurance
company.
This is my first encounter with the insurance company since I met with them
over the claim. I ring and ask for the amount of the increase in premium if
Graeme drive. They ask if he has an permanent or temporary Antigua driving
licence. If it’s temporary there is an increase in the excess of EC$1,000 but no
increase in premium. Apparently, we have, without knowing it, insured the cars
for any authorised driver. I tell Graeme who is quite happy with the increased
excess.
Lindsay appears just as I am walking to the Post Office. The Post Office
doesn’t have change for EC$100 note so I have to queue at the bank for
change. When I get back to the office Graeme is there with the Skype ‘phone.
Later, I try it out and discover it doesn’t work on an Apple computer. I am
beginning to wonder why anyone buys Apple. There are so many thing that
won’t work with it. Not being happy with Excel which is just a poor copy of
Lotus, recently, I tried to find a copy of Lotus which would work on an Apple but
there isn’t one. Apple may have style and be good for graphics, although I am
not sure they are any better than the latest PCs, but their limitations are such
that they are several computer generations behind the rest.
Looking on the internet last week I came across a beautiful S & S designed 49
footer in the U.S., completely refurbished but lacking an interior which would be
perfect as I could fit it out to suit. I sent an e-mail but had no reply so I
telephone. Unfortunately, the owner has received an offer from a Dutchman
and expects the deal to go through this week.
Checking the ink levels on the colour laser printer in order to work out the costs
for the printing I am doing for the Trafalgar booklet I discover that the printer will
only ‘talk’ in Portuguese. It must have been diverted on it’s way to Brazil or
some other Portuguese speaking South American country and I need to install
some software in order to teach it English. I can’t be bothered as most of the
information I require is pictorial.
I have no intention of going to the Tot but Lindsay rings and says since I am still
in the office she is coming down and we can meet at Calabash. I leave things
running and return later to close down. At least the whole of the booklet is now
printed.

Day 165 – Tuesday. I have arranged to meet an agent at 9.30 to look at a
piece of land. I arrive at 9.20 and the agent is only a couple of minutes behind
me. I ring Lindsay who is coming from home and tell her that, for the first time
in Antigua, someone has arrived for an appointment early. I give her directions
to the plot. The plot is not bad but not brilliant. Lindsay is more keen than me.
I feel we should wait and see what Tim Wall has to say when he gets back next
week and then, dependent upon what he says, approach Geoffrey about the
plot he doesn’t want to sell. If all that fails then consider this plot.
Graeme is borrowing Lindsay’s at ten and Lindsay drops it off to him and comes
back to the office to pinch my car. I remind her that I have to pick some people
up at 11.45 as we are going to a lunch party and I have offered to give Terry
and Connie a lift. We pick them up in the Dockyard and they tell us of another
couple who require a lift. The pair of them are rather large and, despite being a
large car, it is best suited to four people, five at a pinch. Lindsay and Connie
climb into the rear luggage compartment and, after a few miles, Lindsay
comments that she understands why the dogs feel sick in the back. I open the
tailgate window but that has the disadvantage of allowing the exhaust fumes in.
After a couple of hours at the lunch party I have to leave to go to St. John’s.
None of the people who came with me, Lindsay included, are ready to leave.
Since it’s quite close to our house, Lindsay says she will walk home and I
arrange for the others to have a lift. Over two hours later I am on my way back
from St. John’s and I check to see whether Lindsay and the others have left the
party. They haven’t. I arrive back to find a bunch of well oiled people swimming
in the pool. It takes me three quarters of an hour to rally them and get them into
the car, Lindsay excepted who is still in the pool. I drop my passengers back in
the Dockyard and return for Lindsay. She still has to pick up her car from
Graeme.
On my various trips back and forth I have fed the dogs and started the
generator and this needs to be turned off before we go back again. There is no
doubt about it, it’s no fun being totally sober when everyone around you is
rather more than merry and urgency is the last thing on their minds.
I had proposed to meet up with Callie to review some things to do with the
Marine Expo but that is now totally out of the question.
I have arranged to collect the keys from Graeme at Calabash but only stay for
one drink as I am not in the mood and Lindsay has had far too much to drink
already. At least she has the sense only to drink water.
Day 166 – Wednesday. Although it was my intention to spend only an hour or
so in the office dealing with e-mails, etc. before going to help with the reconstruction
and erecting of the flag pole and the Inn on English Harbour for

Trafalgar night, problems with the printers in the U.S. kept me in the office until
quarter to eleven.
On arriving at the Inn the flat pole was mainly reconstructed but, in the absence
of Roger who designed and built it, there is some puzzlement over the lower
section and base. Fortunately, it was the part I had worked on with Roger last
Sunday and I remember how it went together. Roger has been driven to HMS
Cumberland by Lindsay to gather a working party of sailors to do repairs and
maintenance at the Amazing Grace Foundation.
The flag pole constructed, we are a bit restricted on space to erect it an, being
made of plastic tubing, it is rather flexible. It goes up but with a bit of ‘racing
pre-bend’ through the top section. We are not allowed to drive any stakes into
the lawn so the stays are tied to trees and bushes which are not as secure as
we might wish. We have to hope for light winds. At one stage, Graeme and I
clamber through the undergrowth to secure the forestay and I am in my office
clothes. By the time we have finished I am drenched in perspiration.
Cooler but not dry after an hour in the air conditioned climate of the office, I
receive a telephone call from Lindsay who is at the Galley Bar and wants lunch.
I tell her I will join her and she asks what I would like. I suggest a dry set of
clothes. It’s amazing how time flies. I am still in the office when Lindsay rings
again to say my lunch is on the table. It’s time to leave the office.
I have a meeting with Callie at two thirty which continues until after five. Callie
is exhausting. She reminds of Barbara Streisand, not only to look at but also in
the frenetic way she does everything and at the top of her voice, continuously
and at high speed. Although I have met her husband I don’t really know him but
he must be a very subdued man.
With Callie gone, I manage to finish off the last of the Trafalgar booklets in time
to deliver them to the Tot. With everyone arriving for Trafalgar night
celebrations the circle is getting very large and I don’t stay long also, Lindsay
has roast pork in the oven and I said I wouldn’t be late.
Day 167 – Thursday. I am due at a meeting at 9.30 with Callie and Anna-Maria
but a couple of e-mails from Virgin Atlantic, who I have nearly persuaded to
become sponsors of the Marine Expo, require complicated replies and I am
running late. What the hell, this is Antigua and why should I be different from
everyone else. I arrive fifteen minutes late to find that Anna-Maria is still on her
way. She has a message for me to call Nigel Benjamin from the Ministry of
Tourism but there is no reply on his mobile. As we are meeting at a coffee shop
on the Antigua Yacht Club Marina dock, various people who have some
involvement in the Marine Expo, keep joining us and the meeting drags on a bit.
Also, I don’t help as I keep seeing people I need to speak to. While the
surroundings are better than sitting in an office, the situation is not particularly
conducive to holding a constructive meeting.

On my way back to the office I call in at the car hire company to find out how
much we owe for Lindsay’s car hire. I get the bill and ring Lindsay to tell her
that we won’t be paying anything back to the insurance company. The car hire
is over EC$5,000 despite a discount.
Lunch time is approaching and Lindsay rings and asks if I am coming home for
something to eat. I say I probably will. It has been raining for a while, not too
hard but over the next few minutes it intensifies and with the car 100 yards
away I will get soaked if I leave the office. It’s still pouring half an hour later so I
ring Lindsay and tell her I am not going anywhere. She agrees.
Nigel Benjamin calls and tells me the Ministry of Tourism is thinking of putting
EC$13,000 to EC$14,000 into the Marine Expo which will make our budget look
a lot more healthy and then Stan ‘phones and tells me West Indies Oil will be
sponsoring us to the tune of EC$20,000. If it carries on like this we may make
some money.
The rain has stopped so I can go out and pay for Lindsay’s car hire and also the
FedEx bill which I was presented with this morning when I was at my meeting,
their office being just a few yards from the café.
We have been invited to a cocktail party through the Tot Club by the British
High Commission to be held on board the Type 22 Frigate, HMS Cumberland.
The party starts at six thirty and is held on the aft deck of the ship. There are a
dozen people from the Tot Club and a few other we know but most are
strangers. The Governor General’s car arrives just after us and I still find it
surprising that we allow the Queen’s representative to driven around in a
Japanese car.
I think the Royal Navy must have a shortage of ships because the number of
officers on board Cumberland well exceeds the number I would have thought
necessary to run the ship. There seems to be about one for every guest and a
surprising number of them smoke. There are only a couple of places on board
you are allowed to smoke and one is the aft deck but not near the helicopter.
Having dropped Roger back in the Dockyard we stop for a drink at Club
Havanna and the barman immediately asks if I would like a Youngs beer.
Day 168 – Friday. I am becoming even more disillusioned with Apple
computers. Having had difficulty with the headset for speech, hence the Skype
‘phone, which wouldn’t work on an Apple, I have now discovered that the
problem is not the headset but the computer. It will not recognise when the
speech input side is connected. By a lot of fiddling around and wasting EC$30
on a new headset, I have worked out how I can use the headset for hearing and
the built-in microphone for speech but it’s not possible to use the headset for
both and if you use the computer for both you get back feed. Of course, there is

no point in complaining to Apple since not only do they think they are perfect,
their Service Centre has never looked up the definition of ‘service’.
The ABMA have moved their offices into the Dockyard which is a bit of a pain.
Unless there is a friendly guard on the gate you have to walk several hundred
yards. I have a meeting with Anna-Maria and she is equally unhappy about the
move. The offices, unlike her previous ones, are not air conditioned.
My meeting over I join other members of the Tot Club in preparing the room for
tonight’s Trafalgar Celebrations. I arrive as a heavy rain squall sweeps through
and the wind is gusting over thirty knots. The flagpole we erected is looking
decidedly wobbly. During a break in the rain, Graeme, Mark, Mike and I go out
and tighten up the lines. I discover the line I am to tighten has become
completely untied. Apparently, the person who tied this line on Wednesday is
someone from the U.S. Air Force.
I was hoping to get away around lunch time as we have a very heavy evening
coming up but Nigel Benjamin has decided he wants to come to see me. I have
no option but to go out to Bellyfull and buy a couple of their spicy patties for
lunch and await Nigel’s call. I have some work to do but nothing which could
not have waited until Monday.
An e-mail from Nicki Hyatt tells me she is arriving on 14 th December. I presume
my offer of the dog kennel on the veranda means she will be staying with us. I
offer to pick her up from the airport. Too late, I read her flight is arriving at eight
ten in the evening.
The beginning of the evening session is in the Dockyard and the Police band is
playing around the flagstaff. They must have been practising a lots since we
last heard them a couple of years ago. Tonight they are more or less in tune
although their marching hasn’t improved as much as their playing.
Amongst the guests is a lady wearing exactly the same dress as Lindsay.
Although not an exclusive, Lindsay’s dress was bought from a small dress shop
in the U.K.. The chances of two turning up in Antigua must be extremely
remote. Lindsay approaches the woman and congratulates her on her taste.
With somewhere around a hundred people for the tot a few of us decide to give
it a miss and head for the Inn where the dinner is being held. Apart from the top
table, it’s a ‘free for all’ for tables and, being early, we book an ideal position.
During the first part of dinner there are several readings relating to the Battle of
Trafalgar. Unfortunately, the microphone system breaks down and it is quite
difficult to hear. This is not helped by a lady on a table near to us talks
continually and not quietly. During a break in the proceedings I tell her that
although she may not be interested in what is being said others are and it is
quite discourteous of her to keep talking. Later, several people thank me
including someone from her table.

For a mass catering dinner to 150 people the food is surprisingly good, better
than many á la cârte restaurants. The evening seems to go very quickly and it’s
suddenly clear that most people have left. We give a couple of people a lift
back to their hotel and arrive home not long before two.
Day 169 – Saturday. I am struggling to get moving this morning. We are due
back at the Inn at eleven to deconstruct the flag pole. I am short of petrol so fill
up on the way. We arrive just before the pole is due to come down and I assist
Roger at the base as I had done the previous Sunday. The lowering is only
marginally more controlled than on the previous attempt but it’s down. Having
taken it apart, it needs to be removed in sections to Mark and Lindsay’s house.
The pick-up due to transport it has not arrived and Bloody Mary’s are served
from a jug while we wait. I can only manage one but others, including Lindsay,
have several.
Still no sign of the pick-up and people are getting restless. There is a
suggestion that we come back later but I know what that means, only two or
three of us will appear. I claim that I can get everything in my car apart from the
base. There are looks of disbelief. By opening the window in the tailgate, the
sections are fed through the length of the car and everything goes. Someone
with a similar car comments they would not have believed it possible.
The sections and about a quarter of a ton of pig iron unloaded at Mark and
Lindsay’s house we head for Calabash where lunch comprising lamb, beef and
pork with all the trimmings is being laid on at EC$40 a head plus there is a
special tot at one o’clock. Apart from a very miniscule tot, I stick to coke.
Seating at lunch is a bit like last night and we end up opposite someone who
used to sail on Brainwave owned by a friend, Carl Hardwich, from Brighton.
Unfortunately, next to him is the worst kind of bore who has always done more
and better than everyone else and as soon as anyone introduces a subject he
immediately interrupts and turns the conversation to yet something else he has
done. I am not unhappy when we finish eating and leave.
There are three different tots tonight. One on board HMS Cumberland, another
around the flagstaff in the Dockyard and a third at the yacht club. I am
conducting the one at the yacht club. They have particularly requested a tot be
held there as the Jolly Harbour regatta is terminating at the yacht club and the
races have been named after various Nelsonian events of ships. Unfortunately,
the regatta has been cancelled due to the weather which I find surprising since,
only yesterday, Graeme and I had commented on the great sailing conditions
but then, the sea did look more like the Channel in winter and the wind was
gusting thirty knots – great sailing conditions except for Antiguans.
None of the Jolly Harbour lot have arrived and there are less than a dozen Tot
Club members, some of whom arrive I closed the signing-in book. Stretching a

point, I include them particularly as one is the Club President. Not wanting to
drink anything and having eaten a large lunch we retire home. I feel sorry for
the yacht club which has provided food for a large number of people, few of
whom have turned up. Before we leave, I am asked if I will plan some races for
a couple of weeks time. I agree and enquire about the equipment available
such as spare buoys and buoy laying boats. No-one seems to know and it is
suggested I speak to the Club Manager when he is around.
When we arrive home the dogs are running around the garden. It appears that
Lindsay left the gate open to the fenced area and they have found it and been
roaming around. They are covered in sand, we hope from the pile Sandy’s
workmen left when the were building the shed for our generator and not sand
from the beach which is half a mile away.
Day 170 – Sunday. Sunday is a day of rest and, after the past, hectic, few
days, I fully intend to take advantage of it. The most exertion I get is taking the
dogs for a walk while Lindsay goes for a run. At around eleven Lindsay decides
to go to the beach and call in at the office to telephone her parents on Skype
plus reply to a few e-mails which have been sitting there unopened all week. I
remain at home reading and must have fallen asleep as the next thing I am
aware of is Lindsay returning over three hours later.
Ever since Lindsay has had her car back, at least, since the air conditioning was
fixed, she has complained of cold water pouring into the front passenger
footwell when she goes around corners. I know the exact cause of the problem
and have promised to effect a cure. Three of my seven XJS’s had the same
fault. The air conditioning drain hose would get blocked, the reservoir fill and
overflow. It irritated the hell out of me at the time and I could never understand
why three random ones did it and none of the others, nor any previous or
subsequent Jaguars. I am now sort of pleased as I know how to cure Lindsay’s
problem.
I used to take my cars to a garage and put them on a ramp and blow an air line
into the drain hose to clear it. Although I know the cause I don’t have anything
as sophisticated as an air hose and I can see myself lying on the ground poking
a thin piece of wire up the tube with the prospect of moving quickly and risking
banging my head or suffering a face full of cold water. In the event, it proves
quite simple. The end of the drain hose is completely sealed. It has been burnt
closed by the fire. I can reach the end from under the bonnet and take a pair of
scissors to snip the end off. About half a gallon of water pours out. So much
that I begin to wonder if I have cut the wrong hose. Fortunately, not. It ceases
to run after about thirty seconds.
Enough effort for a Sunday so it’s back to the book and a video over dinner.
Day 171 – Monday. On Friday I sent a rather stroppy e-mail to the ABMA
complaining about the lack of support by ABMA members for the Marine Expo.

Anna-Maria has copied it to all members. I doubt it’s done much to raise me in
the popularity stakes. I express my concerns over the lack of support at our biweekly
meeting with the ACYM and also the lack of supply of funds we keep
requesting to purchase or rent the items we require. A cheque for the marquee
hire was due to be drawn two weeks ago but it is still not available. Callie goes
to collect it after the meeting.
A telephone call from Callie informs me that the cheque is still not ready.
Apparently, she has sounded off in no uncertain terms at both Nigel Benjamin
from the Ministry of Tourism and Stan. I receive sheepish calls from both of
them and they want to come to see me at one thirty. I have another meeting at
two so, ever the optimist, I ask them to be on time.
Since no-one seems to be doing much about selling the stands I set about an
intensive campaign with all the companies who seem to spend a reasonable
amount of money on the island plus a few high profile smaller ones. The
biggest problem is getting access to the people who can make the decisions.
Procrastination has been developed to a high art form on the island and it’s like
fighting your way through treacle. Callie was very inclined to walk out of the
project this morning and I understand her sentiments.
Nigel and Stan arrive for the one thirty meeting at quarter to two. They want a
complete reappraisal of the situation including a reworking of the finances on
the basis that all the projected stands do not get sold. I point out that since
many things have to be paid for before the cut off date for the selling of stands,
we have to order on the basis of the maximum number of stands, therefore, we
make a substantial loss if the stands are not sold. It’s back to the ABMA to get
on and sell the stands.
I get to my two o’clock meeting half an hour late but I have had the courtesy to
telephone and explain I have been held up. The meeting includes Callie who
still has not calmed down from her morning encounter with Nigel and Stan. Part
way through the meeting Stan appears and sits with his back to us at another
table about ten feet away. Callie’s ‘phone rings. It’s Stan. Callie calls across
and says she’s not answering it but relents and goes across and makes it up
with Stan. Although I have told her what she did was absolutely correct,
perhaps with the exception of her colourful language, she feels she may have
stepped out of line. If it produces the desired result, I don’t think so. When the
meeting starts going over old ground I make my excuses and leave. I still have
some things to do at the office and there are a few problems to solve over the
distribution of the new Marine Guide at the Fort Lauderdale Boat Show which
has been postponed due to hurricane Wilma which is currently lashing Florida.
I leave the office a little early as it’s now getting dark before six and I have three
cans each containing five gallons of diesel in the back of my car for the
generator plus some oil which needs to be put into the generator before it’s run
again. Either Lindsay is going deaf or becoming forgetful. I distinctly remember

asking her not to run the generator until I have topped up the oil. As I pull into
the drive I can hear the generator running.
As I have the money from the Tot at the yacht club on Saturday and the spare
rum we decide to go to Calabash to hand it over. There are still dozens of
members from overseas who attended the Trafalgar celebrations and it’s all a
bit crowded so we don’t stay long.
The gate to the sealed part of the garden is open again. I was the last one in
and I know I bolted it. Fortunately, Lindsay found it open before the dogs did.
Also there is a piece of wire hanging over the gate which wasn’t there earlier.
Lindsay finds a volt meter sitting on the edge of a wall. It’s probably Sandy’s.
He must have been checking something in the generator room and left the gate
open. I will have to have a word with Sandy.
Day 172 – Tuesday. I need to speak to Mike Rose and telephone him. He
answers the ‘phone out of breath and I ask him if I have dragged him in from
mowing the lawn. He replies that he has been burying the dog. Apparently
Nuisance has been poisoned and is dead. Some of the locals who own sheep
and goats which roam freely around the island put down poisoned meat to kill
dogs which sometimes worry the sheep and goats. Nuisance picked up a piece
of this poisoned meat. I had become very attached to Nuisance when we
looked after him and feel like going out and shooting a few goats in retaliation.
My new website is nearing completion and I need to produce some updated
information which really means rewriting everything which was on the old
website. Also, I an not entirely happy with the photographs which seem to lack
life. Lindsay fancies herself as a photographer so she can take a few new
ones. We have to make some use of the camera she bought on the way out
here.
Still trying to get more businesses to book stands I try e-mailing all the top
companies in Antigua plus a few high profile smaller ones but I have the feeling
it’s a lost cause. Unless you can get in direct touch with the decision maker in a
company it’s almost impossible to get anywhere.
As I am still working at 5.30 I ring Lindsay and say I am going to meet Mike and
Anne at the Tot to commiserate. They keep me talking for over an hour and I
am much later home than I expect.
Day 173 – Wednesday. I wake up in the middle of the night and my right wrist
is very sore. I must have slept awkwardly on it. In the morning it’s still painful
and quite swollen. I take a couple of Neurofen but with no apparent affect.
For some time Lindsay has wanted to see an old sugar mill which is for sale and
standing in two and a half acres. I am not keen because of the location but I
agree to go and look. There is no doubt that a sugar mill will make a nice basis

for a house. They look rather like oast houses but built of stone. The land is so
overgrown that we can’t get within a hundred yards of the building. Apparently,
there are some other stone ruins on the site but they are not visible through the
acacia scrub. As the agent says, if you come to Antigua, why would you want
to buy something which doesn’t have a sea view. I agree with him.
I am prepared to wait a little longer to see what Tim Wall will come up with on
his piece of land. Also, I have a go at Geoffrey about a piece of land he doesn’t
want to sell but which I would be prepared to buy. I Geoffrey’s own words, the
right plot always turns up for those prepared to wait. Unfortunately, Lindsay is
getting impatient.
I haven’t been to St. John’s for a while and I need some cash plus pay the credit
card bill. Lindsay suggests I buy some lunch when I am out. There is a good
French bakery near the bank. I arrive at the bank to find a sign on the door
saying ‘Closed until further notice’. A bit worrying. I telephone the bank and
ask why the branch is closed. They tell me that insufficient staff arrived this
morning. I ask when it will be reopening and they don’t know. I suspect an
industrial dispute is in progress.
Having completed all I can on the new website, I think I might go home a bit
early when I receive a ‘phone call following the postponement of the Fort
Lauderdale Boat show. The caller suggest I e-mail all the exhibitors from Fort
Lauderdale and invite them to Antigua. A good idea and generating the e-mails
takes very little time but since each e-mail is over two megs. They take a long
time to send via Antigua’s ‘steam powered’ internet. By the time I have written
them all I have thirty two e-mails backed up in my out box each taking about five
minutes to send. It’s four thirty so, by my calculation, it will take until about
seven fifteen to complete sending them all. I think I will go home and return
later to shut things down.
The Tot is at a very pleasant venue on the waterfront of Falmouth and a free
curry with all the trimmings is being provided. We leave before the curry to go
to the office to check out the sending of the e-mails. I can’t believe it still has
twenty six to go. Something must be very wrong with Cable and Wireless. I
decide to leave it running over night and we return for the curry.
One of the two sailing lighters I bought from Mike Steven’s chandlery in May
has packed up. It started with two disadvantages, firstly being sold by Mike and
secondly being produced by Silva. Some years ago I had Silva instruments on
my boat. They were so useless I sent a photo to Silva of me throwing them
overboard. Silva wouldn’t accept any responsibility for the instruments under
warranty so I doubt I have much chance with the lighter.
Mike Rose tells me I am to be made up to a full member tomorrow night. I have
known this was coming and I had suggested to both Mike and Terry that it be
left to after the AGM in January. The other night I gave Mike my reasons which

elate to what one member has told me about how he perceives proceedings at
the AGM which is something I would fundamentally oppose. I am left with the
impression there may be a regime change and I would not be happy to see it
happen. If I am to be made up to a full member tomorrow I need to speak to
Terry who is the Club President and I make an appointment to see him at
midday.
Mike and Anne appear with a new dog. It’s a rescue dog and is about three
years old. It has an unpronounceable name so, in view of the recent
celebrations, it gets called Nelson. It seems a very nice natured dog and
Ruthie, who had obviously been missing Nuisance, seems to have taken to her
new companion.
Graeme produces a copy of an article from the Evening Argus which relates to
the House of Lords questioning the right of Brighton & Hove City Council
granting consent for the development at Brighton Marina. I have always been
fundamentally opposed to the development but many within the yacht club
believe it is not in the yacht club’s interest to oppose the development. I don’t
agree. Even if the developer can be trusted, which I doubt, (he has gone back
on his word on several occasions in the past), it is my opinion that the
development will destroy the marina and, without sailors, there will be no point
in having a yacht club.
Day 174 – Thursday. A video of the Trafalgar celebrations in Antigua has been
produced and is available as a DVD. We purchased a copy last night and sit
down to watch it over breakfast. Unfortunately, it is very amateur but quite
amusing to watch. It really needs a good editor although there has been some
accidental editing, presumably when the camera’s battery ran out.
Despite leaving the e-mails sending all night only six have gone leaving twenty
still in my outbox. Whenever I speak to Cable & Wireless they say there is
nothing wrong with the internet. I can only presume they never use it.
Re-reading the article Graeme has given me I debate with myself as to whether
I should break my silence and express again my opposition to the development
at Brighton Marina. Although I am still a member and, in fact, until the end of
November, still its President, do I really have any real interest in what now
happens to the yacht club? Also, do I really believe that what the developer has
promised to the yacht club will ever come about? In view of the promises he
has made and broken in the past, the answer is an emphatic NO. In my
opinion, the yacht club is being misled into not opposing the development on a
false undertaking. I can see the scenario. There is no doubt the submitted
plans will not be approved in full and the developer will use this as an excuse to
modify or withdraw his offer to the yacht club by which time it will be too late and
the yacht club will be in a worse situation than it is now. At least, at the
moment, the club has some legal basis for staying where it is. If it gives in to
the developers and relinquishes its existing site it may well be left with nothing.

In my opinion, the developers are more scared of the yacht club’s possessory
rights to the land than they are of the club’s opposition to the planning
application. In the end I decide that if I write to the Evening Argus I doubt it will
do much good but it will put Andrew Goodall on notice that someone doesn’t
believe that he will do what he has promised.
At my meeting with Terry I tell him I am not entirely happy about being made up
to a Full Member before the AGM because of the possibility of a regime change.
He assures me there will be no regime change and that he and, as far as he is
aware, everyone is one hundred per cent behind Mike. Maybe I was becoming
too concerned over nothing or maybe I was the subject of a ‘recruiting exercise’
attempting to get me to become one of the small number of disaffected. Either
way, we will see what happens at the AGM.
Geoffrey replies to my e-mail of yesterday and
concedes that he will sell us the plot we would
prefer but it’s not cheap, in fact, it’s quite expensive
but I am still tempted. I will need to talk to Lindsay
but I already know her answer. We go up and have
another look at the site. The views are
breathtaking but it is not going to be easy to build.
We may have to reconsider the style of house we had intended to build. Later
we meet up with both Geoffrey and Sandy and I ask Sandy if he will come with
me and cast his civil engineers eye over the site. We agree to do it on Sunday.
Geoffrey agrees to meet us on site again tomorrow when I have my 100 foot
tape to hand.
We have been invited to a ‘select’ dinner party. I use the word select more to
describe the small number of people, which including our four hosts numbers
ten, rather than the quality of the individuals. Quite often I restrain myself from
writing exactly what I see and think. Often I think I might be ungracious when
receiving friendship and hospitality to them make caustic comments on paper. I
am not sure why because the only person out here who sees my jottings is
Graeme. On this occasion I feel I shall be moderately unrestrained.
Our hosts are typical northern ‘muck to brass’ or in this case, gold and
diamonds, and don’t mind flaunting it. They are certainly generous but have
gathered none of the graces that have come with generations of wealth.
Typical examples are the leopard skin covered furniture and our host tucking his
napkin into the front of his collar as we sit down to eat, but I leap ahead of
myself. We are due at eight but as we are not sure where we are going we are
following other guest in their car. Our ‘navigator’ does not leave the yacht club
where we have met until well after eight and we are still the first to arrive at
quarter to nine. As we cross the threshold our hostess leaves, apparently in the
direction of a local restaurant from where dinner is being collected. The house is
in one of these ‘time-share’ resorts and has smell, atmosphere and style of a
medium quality hotel. It sort of fits the scene quite well.

For reasons which I will not explain, one of the guest delays the serving of
dinner until after ten by which time another of the guests has fallen asleep on
one of the veranda sun loungers. Another of the guests is getting decidedly
restless. It’s her birthday and her partner has brought her here as her ‘birthday’
dinner. She is not amused and is muttering under her breath about leaving, I
think the hosts are getting the message and decide to ignore the cause of the
delay and proceed with serving dinner.
Eventually we sit down, minus the somnolent guest, to a starter of fresh prawn
salad followed by a roast beef buffet to which we serve ourselves. The hosts
and guest are seated, restaurant style, around three tables. Our hostess is on
our table. Returning to the table with her plate of food, Lindsay eases herself
into her chair and must have applied some pressure to the top of the table
which, unbeknown to any of us, has only three legs. Under her weight it tips
precariously. Somehow, and I am not quite sure how since I have a plate of
food in my left hand, I manage to catch both my full wine glass and the bottle of
wine without them spilling but, unfortunately, Lindsay’s glass and the hostess’s
go flying, emptying their contents in Lindsay’s lap. As it’s a mix of red and
white, Lindsay’s trousers come out remarkably unstained.
By half past eleven I feel it is time we left. I have appointments tomorrow and
don’t want to be too late. A small buggy had collected us from the car park and
driven us to the house. There had been some question as to what time the
driver would be on duty and despite our host giving him a hefty tip, I suspect it
might be a while before he arrives and we decide to walk to the car. A good
move as the ordered buggy did not pass us as we strode to the car park.
Day 175 – Friday. I have agreed to meet Geoffrey at around ten to take some
measurements of the site. Lindsay joins but we don’t achieve much as my
guess at the measurements I required are about as accurate as the ones we
get on the ground but confirm what I think, the flat area is a bit too narrow which
means we are going to have to build over the slope with the increased costs.
Lindsay is a bit impatient and wants to get on with it. I am going into town and
want to stop by Tim Wall’s office to see if he has come to a conclusion yet.
He’s been away for nearly a month and he said he was going away for two to
three weeks. His office tell he’s due back tomorrow. I decide I will leave him a
letter for his return and say, politely, that we must have an answer on his land
by the middle of next week.
My meeting is with the Chairman of the Sir Vivian Richards Foundation. I
manage to persuade him to get Viv Richards to attend the Marine Expo on
several days but we have to give the Foundation fund raising opportunities. We
discuss various methods, the best of which is to offer the skippers of the luxury
charter yachts a percentage of any donation they extract from their wealthy
clients. I suggest the commission should be 15%. The Chairman is horrified.
He was thinking of 5%. I don’t believe well paid skippers will bother with as little

as 5%. I also suggest that Viv Richards should make himself available as a
dinner guest on board luxury yachts for a substantial fee. I am sure there are
enough wealthy cricketing fans around who would be willing to pay.
Lindsay is still in the office when I leave St. John’s and has brought in some
lunch. When I arrive she begins to apply a bit of pressure for us to come to an
agreement with Geoffrey on the land. I want to find out what Tim has to say
before committing ourselves. I feel we ought to at least see if we have a choice.
Mike Briggs from Calabash ‘phones. He has bought in a case of Youngs Bitter.
I suppose I will have to go and drink some.
Day 176 – Saturday. I have been looking forward to the weekend as I feel I
need a bit of a break but with the plot of land to consider I want to see what can
feasibly be built on the level part and as I have an architectural CAD
programme in my computer at home I am going to try and draw some plans.
The problem, although I bought the programme some years ago I have only
used it once and then in a very limited fashion. Even if I knew where the
instructions were it is highly unlikely I’d read them so it’s a matter of trial and
error.
I decide I am going to do three different designs, a long, narrow, single storey
building only on the flat area, a two storey also on the flat area and a two storey
which will be built down the slope. I start at eight and I am quite surprised when
Lindsay asks me if I would like some lunch. Apart fro a few minor difficulties of
not understanding the programme, my main problem is converting ideas into
drawings. What seems like quite a good idea often just doesn’t work when you
put it into a design. Sometimes it doesn’t work practically although I am able to
put it on paper and other times the programme just won’t let me do things. An
example of the impracticality is where I am trying to share a bathroom between
two bedrooms. In the end, it is easier to give them a shower room each or,
when I am trying to fit a kitchen unit. It just won’t go in. I realise I have chosen
the wrong sized kitchen unit. I am not sure whether I am amused or frustrated
when trying to fit a ceiling fan into the small study and, when it won’t go in, I
notice, if it did, the fan blades would either hit a wall or the underside of the roof
hip.
The roof is a long and painful story. It should be relative simple to roof over the
house but, no matter what I do, the roof will not ‘build itself’. After numerous,
tedious attempts, I succeed. It’s not the roof I want but it’s a roof. Also, it has
roofed over the swimming pool but not the verandas. The reason the pool is
roofed over is because the CAD programme will only build up and not down so I
have introduced some ‘invisible’ walls to delineate the pool area. It is easy
enough to remove the pool roof but adding veranda roofs is not so simple. I
imaging that since the roof found the ‘invisible’ walls around the pool the same
would be true for the verandas. Not so. Eventually, I work out that I should
extend the roof slope to the edge of the veranda except that brings the slope of

the roof down onto the floor of the veranda. I just realise that I need to alter the
slope of the roof when Sandy and his workmen turn up. It’s about five o’clock.
They want to shut down the electricity and wire the electricity into the new shed.
I go and give Sandy and his men a hand but when we go to move the generator
the whole of one side comes off. When it was repaired the engineer had not
screwed the side back on. I knew at the time he hadn’t done it and I told him
not to bother coming all the way from St. John’s the next day, saying I would do
it. I forgot. We screw it on and the new wheels I fitted a few weeks ago make it
very easy to move.
Lindsay suggests we go to Calabash and, having been stuck in the study all day
in front a computer, I am in full agreement. We stay somewhat longer than
expected. Before going out I had started the generator. Lindsay was a bit
concerned it might run out of fuel but, as we weren’t going to be long I said it
would be okay. Fortunately, it is still running when we get back. It’s a real pain
to start when it runs out.
Day 177 – Sunday. I am meeting Sandy at nine to get his engineer’s eye to
look over the plot. Before doing so, I would like to complete the plans. My
alteration to the roof slope woks a dream, well, almost. The pillars on the front
of the verandas poke through the roof. There are two solutions, increase the
height of the walls, they are only eight foot and I wanted ten foot walls, and
reduce the height of the columns to seven foot three inches. By doing both the
roof works perfectly, I even have time to add a porch with columns, ’invisible’
walls and a roof. We are only fifteen minutes late for Sandy who is not ready
anyway.
Lindsay and the dogs have decided to come as well. Every time I go to this plot
I find the view stunning and I think it’s this view which is blinding me to the site
problems. Sandy confirms our worst fears. He starts off saying that US$50,000
will need to be spent on retaining walls and ends up saying US$100,000. He
also says that the build cost will increase by 20%. He also adds that no one
would guarantee that the land wouldn’t slide away in a bad hurricane. He has a
good idea about excavating the flat area which would widen it but it doesn’t
overcome the problem of the retaining walls. Whilst we could afford to do what
we want, it doesn’t make economic sense. It would only make sense if
someone wanted to put a really large house on the site.
Sandy takes us to see another house in the process of construction where he
quoted the owner US$200,000. The house looks as though it will be fabulous
when it’s finished but I couldn’t cope with the road up to it each day and the
view isn’t as good as the other plot, not that this house is going to be for sale.
Without saying anything, we have given up on the plot which means that if Tim
Wall doesn’t come up with something, we are back to square one. My plans for
drawing up two new house designs have gone out the window but, at least I

have had some practice at the CAD programme which will make it much easier
to draw the next set of plans. In this age of computer technology, who needs an
architect? I spend the rest of the day reading so have half my relaxed weekend.
At about four Lindsay reminds me we need to run the generator. As it’s now a
hundred feet from the house I tell her she can do it when it rains and it looks like
rain is coming. I still go and do it. Surprisingly, the generator is noisier to us in
its new position but we don’t suffer the diesel fumes. The power cable is routed
through a louver window which means you can’t shut it. Sandy says it’s only
temporary but I know Sandy’s temporary. I reroute the cable so I can close the
window to shut out some of the noise.
Day 178 – Monday. Tomorrow is Independence Day holiday but most people
have extended it to start today and it’s almost impossible to get hold of anyone.
I have a ten thirty meeting with Callie and Anna-Maria is supposed to be with us
but she must have taken the day off as well. Callie comments favourably on my
letter published in the Observer, one of Antigua’s papers. Following the death
of Mike and Anne’s dog, I wrote to the paper addressing the question of the
free-ranging sheep and goats, expressing concern at the freedom with which
these non-land owning sheep and goat herders are permitted, legally, to leave
poisons by the road side. So far it’s only been dogs that have died but it could
just as easily be a child.
Callie and I have become very concerned by the lack of support, particularly
from the ABMA, for the Marine Expo which, added to the demands from the
Ministry of Tourism to improve the quality of the show, is indicating a thumping
great loss. We consider three options, cancellation, reduction in size or a
redoubled effort at obtaining exhibitors. We dismiss the first and last options
which leaves us only one. The real problem is that by reducing it in size the
loss is bigger because of the fixed costs whereas if we are able to sell more
stands with the larger show the loss comes down and with all sold we make a
small profit. Since it’s not our decision, we put it to the Boards of the ACYM and
the ABMA by e-mail but since no one is working we don’t get a reply.
Having decided not to proceed with Geoffrey’s plot of land I drop in a letter
explaining our reasons and give him a bottle of English Harbour Extra Old rum
for his trouble. I think it is a good move as it makes him think about other
possible sites which he will look into. He also asks for a favour. He needs to do
a rent review on his premises and needs some evidence of current rents. As I
was looking only a few months ago and took our current premises, I am able to
supply him with details of current rents.
Following my conversation with Sandy yesterday, I follow a few leads Sandy
gave me and speak to a large landowner, Carlo Falcone, but he doesn’t have
anything currently for sale. I also follow up on an estate which is in probate. I
find the name of the solicitor but she is in court. I leave my name and number
but will probably have to follow it up after the holiday. There is another estate

owned by an Antiguan who married a Canadian but she seems to be
untraceable. The estate owns some lovely pieces of land. I will have to do
some research after the holiday.
By early afternoon there is not much point in staying in the office so I head off
home. On the way I see an estate agents car outside his office. I call in and
catch him just before he closes up. He has an acre of land which we had
looked at and dismissed, at least, I dismissed it but Lindsay was quite
interested. The agent suggests we ought to have another look and I explain my
reasons for having dismissed it. Two houses immediately below the site are
owned by another English Harbour agent and they are extremely scruffy. I
comment that since he has recently married a very wealthy girl he might now
get around to doing them up. The agent and his assistant, a very attractive
young lady, both laugh. I get the impression it is not because I have said
something funny. They explain that this other agent is the ex-husband of the
pretty assistant.
I decide we should go and have another look at the land. It’s only a couple of
hundred yards from where we live and we take the dogs up there for a walk. I
am still not convinced but it is a lot better than many of the sites we have looked
at and dismissed. If only Tim Wall would make up his mind one way or the
other then I could begin to look at other sites objectively.
Today is also Halloween and a circular has gone around the locality relating to
‘Trick or Treat’. I must admit I am not in favour of such things. Unfortunately,
like most things that have come out of America, it is rather over the top. As
Sandy says, in his day, two or three kids would go around the neighbourhood
and perform a little song or stand on their heads or something and receive an
apple or a biscuit or, if they were really lucky, a thrupenny bit. Today van loads
of kids are being driven around the houses by their parents. One lot even parks
in our drive to disgorge a hoard of screaming kids whilst others pull up outside.
Lindsay had taken the precaution of buying some goodie bags but they soon
run out and she gets sprayed with water pistols. Had we not been new here I
would have turned the hose on them. The whole event centres around the
Americans who live next door to us and they are having a party to entertain the
adults as well as the children. We are sort of invited but decline to go partly
since the letter I wrote to Sandy regarding the diversion of the water which he
gave to them and partly because we are not keen on spending our time
amongst hyped up children. To avoid any more ‘trick and treaters we head of to
Calabash and the Tot.
At the Tot my upcoming Full Membership is mentioned again and, as a result, I
am told I have to organise Pickle Night which starts at midday on Sunday.
Pickle night revolves around the skipper of HMS Pickle, Lt. Lapenotierre,
landing at Falmouth and bringing the news of the victory at Trafalgar and the
death of Nelson to London. I ask what’s involved. Lindsay says I already have

too much to do but, it’s quite simple. I delegate everything to Mike Briggs who
will run it from Calabash.
There is to be a showing of the DVD from Trafalgar night at Mike and Anne’s
house tomorrow at eleven and we are invited. Having watched it once I am not
sure I want to watch it again and I suggest to Mike that a well edited version
would be a good idea. He doesn’t agree with me but I suspect he will when
he’s seen it.
Day 179 – Tuesday. Opening the inner door to the porch I see a large, hairy leg
sticking out from under the edge of the porch. It’s another tarantula. Now
knowing they are not too harmful, I get a broom and sweep it out. It’s a big one
and very lethargic. I call Lindsay who, despite her fear of spiders, comes and
has a look. They are not unattractive creatures. A few gentle prods with the
broom sends it on its way.
Not for the first time, one of the vehicles parked in the road outside the house
has become stuck in the ditch which has been created by the diverted water.
Sandy is outside looking to see it has damaged the fence. As I have his cheque
for November’s rent I go and join him. I tell him we had a similar incident while
he was away and at the time it did push the fence over but they repaired it.
Sandy says he won’t assist in pulling the vehicle out because if the fence comes
down he will be partly to blame and you can guarantee he will end up paying for
it.
Despite being a holiday I still go into the office thinking I won’t be very long.
Everywhere is deserted but Callie rings and I say I cannot understand some of
her figures and I am trying to rework the budget. She says she will come into
the office. I agree knowing nothing is ever short when it come to meetings with
Callie. She leaves at midday. Even if I had wanted to go to Mike and Anne’s,
it’s now a bit late. Maybe we’ll go up a bit later.
I ring Mike to tell him I have sent the e-mail he asked for and he wants to know
when we are coming. I explain I am still in the office but will come when I have
finished. It’s just as well we are late as the DVD of Trafalgar night is still
running and, having seen it once, I wouldn’t have wanted to sit through it again.
Mike does agree it needs editing.
A pink Tot Club T-shirt is produced for me. I hate pink but it’s the colour that
Full Member wears. My crew will recollect my reaction back in the early ‘90s
when the produced pink crew shirts. It was not favourable. My words “Oh, no,
not cerise” have often been quoted back to me.
Mike produces some eighty year old Pusser’s rum. It is wonderful. Apparently
it was bottled in 1933 and had spent the previous ten years in a cask. It’s
certainly the best rum I have ever tasted. There is a letter accompanying the
bottle which give a bit of history to the rum. Apparently, several hundred

gallons were found in Germany when the Army of the Rhine was being
disbanded. Much of it was sold commercially but a little was offered to navy
personnel by a form of auction. Cheques for £32 were sent in and drawn out of
a hat. The £32 represented the excise duty. Anyone unlucky enough not to be
drawn had their cheque sent to a charity. According to the letter the rum was
sent to Germany in 1944 which seems unlikely since we did not occupy
Germany until 1945 unless it was an attempt to get German soldiers drunk.
Apparently there is little if any of this rum left and the last known bottles were
sold at £200 each. I feel guilty drinking it especially when Mike offers me a third
glass which I refuse but he presses me. It is not difficult to be weak-willed.
Reluctantly but as I am supposed to be organising Pickle Night, we go to the
Tot but don’t stay long and I can only face coke.
Day 180 – Wednesday. I am very short of petrol and head straight from home
to Slipway to fill up. On my way a lady flags me down obviously wanting a lift. I
don’t think there are any buses on this road so I stop and tell her where I am
going. She is going to Shirley Heights, quite a long way beyond my destination.
She asks if I can drive her there. I point out that I don’t have sufficient petrol so
she says she will come to fill up with me. Sometimes I am astounded by the
cheek of people.
I fill up with petrol and as I walk back from the cashier, without thinking, I start
the car remotely. My unwanted passenger leaps out of the car. The car is
facing the water and she has visions of it setting off on its own and she doesn’t
drive. The hilarity of the situation makes the subsequent drive to Shirley
Heights worthwhile.
Last night I was part of a conversation which related to the three people who
had been carried to their state funerals down the Thames. We all knew Nelson
and Churchill were two but none of us was sure of the third. My guess, half
remembered from history, was Elizabeth I. Someone else’s thought was Henry
VIII. A quick check this morning on the internet showed it to be Elizabeth I.
An e-mail in from BMYC informs me that they are holding an EGM on 9 th
November regarding the new club premises. It appears from the EGM that the
suggestion is that Heads of Terms are agreed in return for removing the Club’s
objections to the further development of the marina. Having been misled on
several previous occasions by Heads of Terms I feel it would be very foolish of
the Club to enter into such an agreement and I send an e-mail to all the
members who are in my address book advising them of my concerns. I receive
a response almost immediately from Hector who agrees. Unfortunately, he
lives in Slovenia so he can do no more that I can.
I have agreed to drive Graeme to the chiropractor. He has hurt his back.
Although it’s not far, it is up a steep hill. Maybe that’s part of the treatment.

Graeme is aware of a plot which was for sale in the vicinity and he shows it to
me. He is going to ask the chiropractor whether it is still for sale.
As I am organising Pickle Night I need to collect numbers for the catering so we
go to Calabash. Time goes by rather too quickly and Lindsay says she doesn’t
want to cook dinner this late. I volunteer but she says it still means us eating at
around ten so we decided to eat at Calabash and join David and Rick at their
table which turns out be a bit of a mistake. David argues with the waitress over
the price of a bottle of wine and I lose out to Rick on the last piece of veal.
Having chosen the veal for myself, Rick decides it might be a good idea as well.
The waitress returns telling us there is only one piece of veal remaining and,
rather than choosing something else as he was the second person to choose,
Rick (who is Belgian) still wants the veal. I suggest we toss for it.
Unfortunately, my coin lands in David’s glass of wine so Lindsay tosses. I lose
and have garlic king prawns instead.
At some stage David asked Rick to name any famous Belgians, a question I
have heard asked of Belgians in the past. Rick was only able to provide the
fictitious Poirot. Later I checked a website of famous Belgians which claimed
there are 259 but, having looked at the list, most are complete unknowns with
little or any claim to fame. There are, maybe, half a dozen who could claim
international recognition. Perhaps it’s true after all, there are no famous
Belgians.
Day 181 – Thursday. Graeme’s laptop has packed up. I happened a few days
ago and he took it apart and sprayed it with WD40 which seemed to make it
work for a while but it has now died completely. He has asked Lindsay if he can
borrow her car to take it into town to be repaired. He arrives at ten as agreed.
By about twelve Lindsay is thinking of lunch and the dogs who came into the
office with her need a walk. Lindsay suggests she take my car and return with
some lunch when Graeme reappears. Timing couldn’t have been better except
his computer isn’t repaired. Having been told to bring it in and the repair would
be done while he waited, typically, there was no engineer available.
Lindsay leaves but it takes me another hour to finish up so when I arrive home I
am in a hurry to leave again as I have a two o’clock appointment at the office.
Unfortunately, Lindsay starts to cook some pasta but I don’t have time to wait so
grab a sandwich.
As has become usual on a Thursday, the Tot is at the yacht club and I am still
working so I advise Lindsay to drive herself down. As she approaches I walk
towards the gate with the remote control to open it for her (we only have one
between the two cars). She spurns me and parks in the public car park.
Tim Wall is at the yacht club when we arrive. I deliberately don’t approach him
because I feel it’s unfair to tackle him at a social venue, however, he
approaches me and tells me that he still hasn’t received a definitive answer

from his solicitor. We speak for a long time but progress very little and the
conversation drifts onto the yacht club. He mentions the rule that no member
can be an officer until they have been a member for a year but says there are
ways around it. I presume he must be referring to me but I am not sure
because he hasn’t said why he mentioned the rule.
I tell Lindsay of our conversation and I can see she is disinclined to wait until
Tim sorts himself out. I am inclined to agree but only if something worthwhile
comes up, not just buying something for the sake of doing so.
Day 182 – Friday. The dogs have become obsessed with going with me
whenever I go out, Nissan in particular. As soon as I put my shoes on he’s
whining and jumping up at the gate. Sunny just copies him. According to
Lindsay, Nissan hears may car coming quarter of a mile away. What is
surprising is that he’s still not too keen on going in my car. Probably
remembers being car sick.
I’m on my way to the office and the dogs want to come. Being a bit of a soft
touch, I take them. Generally, they are very good in the office, it’s cool and
they just lie down and go to sleep. About half an hour later, Lindsay rings in a
bit of a panic. The dogs are missing. She had been in the shower when I left. I
point out that if their leads are missing its highly likely I have them unless they
took themselves for a walk.
I have quite a lot of work to do both with the marine exhibition and the new
company website which is nearing fruition and work, interrupted by an hour long
visit from Callie, until Lindsay arrives at about twelve thirty with my lunch.
Lindsay is going to lunch with Julie at Catherine’s, one of the more expensive
establishments in the area. Since I carry most of the cash she had asked me
for EC$100. Knowing where she is going I give her EC$200. Later, she tells
me she has spent it all.
By three o’clock the dogs are getting restless. Despite having taken them for
two walks Nissan is making signals that he wants to go out and even gets hold
of his lead and drags it across the floor. I am too busy and ignore him, to my
cost. He pees on the floor, twice. Bored, the pair of them start to destroy the
contents of a waste paper bin. My patience is wearing a bit thin, not with dogs
whose predicament I can understand but with Lindsay who is supposed to be
picking them up. Two and a half hours seems rather long for a lunch so I ring
her and she tells me she is on her way. From the background noises I take it
she hasn’t yet left the restaurant.
Half an hour later, Lindsay arrived with Julie and they take the dogs back to
Julie’s house where Sunny goes for a paddle in their swimming pool and Nissan
goes for swimming for a couple of lengths. When, later, we see Julie’s
husband, Sven, Lindsay declines to mention Nissan’s little escapade.

It’s a bad day for my tolerance levels. I am trying hard to complete some work
for the website and Callie keeps sending me e-mails. I don’t count them by they
must be running at around twenty an hour. One of them asks me for a
complicated alteration to a plan which I had only altered today to suit the new
exhibition layout and we had both agreed. I send her an e-mail saying I am
going to shoot her. I half mean it. A little later Anna-Maria sends me an e-mail
asking for some other alterations. I reply to her that I am setting up a firing
squad.
Mike Rose rings and asks if I have a personal e-mail address for the Minister of
Tourism. I don’t but I give him the e-mail address of one of his assistants.
Apparently, Mike is going to try to get the U.K. press to take up the question of
dog poisoning and wants to inform the Minister. However much I dislike animal
rights campaigners, he might get a bit further informing them.
Most of the work done on the website I set it upload. Typical of Cable and
Wireless, it goes at a snail pace. I leave it running and go to the Tot. When I
return an hour later the connection has failed and about a quarter still needs to
be uploaded. I set it going and retreat to the bar downstairs for a Youngs
Special. The whole thing takes about half an hour.
I’m on my way home when Lindsay rings to check where I am. Before I have a
chance to answers she says she knows as Nissan has heard the car.
Day 183 – Saturday. We have been here half a year although not strictly
speaking six months as today is the 5 th and we arrived on the 7 th .
I have agreed with Mark to try to get the base of the Trafalgar Day mast into the
back of my car as the person who is supposed to have collected it from the Inn
has failed to do so. Lindsay has gone to the beach and the dogs give me their
usual plaintive look as I put my shoes on. Although it’s going to be a bit of a
pain dealing with them and loading the base into the car, I take them.
I arrive at the Inn and receive a call from Mark. He’s had a puncture and will be
little while. The road I am parked in is a little narrow and, twice, I drive off to let
other vehicles pass before Mark arrives. It’s fairly obvious we are not going to
get the base in but we try anyway and give up quite quickly.
Earlier, I spoke to Graeme and told him about the cheap laptops I had sourced
in the U.S.. I said I would meet him at the Galley Bar with the specifications
after I had finished with Mark. On my way to meet Graeme I call in at the office
to collect the papers and the dogs immediately settle down on the cool floor. I
am only a few minutes but the dogs don’t want leave and I literally have to drag
them out. I can see we are going to have to build them an air conditioned
kennel with a ceramic tiled floor.

Approaching the Dockyard gates with the dogs on leads the guard tells me that
a new rule has been introduced banning dogs from the Dockyard. Apparently,
some dog ate one of the Dockyard cats. The guard, who I know quite well says
he would let me in except his boss is in the Dockyard. I ring Graeme and tell
him I will meet him later. I consider going to join Lindsay on the beach but
change my mind. I have never been a great fan of sitting on the beach and,
now that the season has started, dogs have to be on leads.
As we drive to Calabash in the evening Charlie waves us down. Her car is out
of commission again and she needs a lift. I still have the seats folded from
trying to load the stand in this morning. Unabashed, Charlie crawls in the back.
I am sure she had rather an uncomfortable ride and gets out with somewhat
more difficulty. Graeme is not at the Tot so I can’t give him the information on
the computers. I will have to catch up with him tomorrow.
Day 184 – Sunday. The ‘Pickle’ celebrations are due to start at twelve and we
arrive at about 12.30 and are one of the first. Typical Antigua. It’s free Pimms
until lunch is served at two. Since I have overall responsibility for numbers
which has been a nightmare with people saying that they may bring as many as
eight guests but, alternatively, they may bring none. In the end I have
suggested we have two suckling pigs which will serve around fifty people. As it
transpires, about sixty people turn up for lunch.
Six of us share a table which includes Graeme who has heard his laptop is
irreparable so he decides to go with one of the two models I can source. I have
decided that it would be useful for us to have one as well and agree to order
them tomorrow. It will be easier for me to pay and Graeme credit my account in
the U.K..
Suddenly, it’s nearing four o’clock and we have to leave to feed the dogs.
Having left them at home all day we take them some bones from the suckling
pigs. Unfortunately, Nissan occasionally gets a bit aggressive over bones and
he has a go at Sunny and gets whacked by me for his trouble.
Since the dogs, Sunny in particular, keep climbing over the gate to get into the
house, we decide to experiment with letting them in the living room only. The
soon learn where they are not allowed to go but it becomes a bit wearing having
to keep an eye on them and prevent them from chewing something they
shouldn’t. After about half an hour, we cancel the experiment and shut them
out again. They seem less interested in climbing back in but I doubt it will last.
We are due back at Calabash at six and take the dogs. They are always
popular but it is a bit of a pain keeping them under control the whole time but,
equally, it seems unfair to leave them at home. The trial and tribulations of
‘parenthood’.

Day 184 – Monday. As I am off tomorrow for a week’s sailing/racing in
Guadeloupe I have to provide Graeme with my passport so he can check me
out with Immigration. I am also supplying the rum and Graeme has given me
an empty whisky bottle so I can decant some from the gallon we bought a few
weeks ago. Not having a funnel I resort to the teapot. To my surprise, the
teapot has the same volume as a whisky bottle.
Alexis is coming into the office so we can finalise the last bits of accounting in
the hand over. Unfortunately, we have never had a bank statement for June so
it’s a bit of a problem reconciling the bank account with the cash in and out.
Lindsay finds we are about EC$127 adrift. She telephones the bank for a copy
statement but is seems as though one won’t be available at short notice which
probably means a week. One good thing which comes out of the exercise is
that we are able to work out that our sales are 30% up on last year. On paper,
we should make a reasonable profit except for the fact that we have bought
cars and an awful lot of set up equipment.
Graeme has agreed he wants one of the laptops and I have decided I will take
the slightly more sophisticated one. I place the order and they should be in this
week. I will admit, reluctantly, I am looking forward to working again on a PC
rather than the Apple.
For a variety of reasons we want to go to St. John’s and we agree to pick up
Graeme’s broken laptop. It’s nearing lunch time and Lindsay says she will go
home and for me to pick her up there. It’s only after she has left I remember my
two o’clock appointment so everything has to be rearranged. I go to the my
meeting and arrange for Lindsay to come and leave her car at the office .
Lindsay is giving me directions to the shop where Graeme has left his
computer, forgetting that I drive around St. John’s a lot more than she does.
Despite the directions and because we have, somehow, got the wrong street
name, I have to ring Graeme to find out exactly where we are going. I don’t
think Lindsay and I would make a good rally driving team as we keep
disagreeing as to where we should go. Eventually, we find it, then onto the
supermarket, post office and bank. I get back to the office at about four thirty
and, to my relief, there are no e-mails. Various people must have read my
thoughts as, over the next fifteen minutes, about twenty pour in. I just scrape
out of the office by six to go for a last Tot before we leave.
It turns out to be quite a useful evening as I pickup a couple of volunteers to
help with the Marine Expo but, in view of me still having to pack for my week
away, we stay a bit too late.
Day 185 – Tuesday. In the Dockyard by seven to meet Graeme to set off for
Guadeloupe, picking up John on the way who is sailing over with us. There are
still a few things to sort out such as get Graeme’s small dinghy from Slipway
where it has been having some major repairs, not entirely successfully as it still

appears to have an air leak. We also buy some ice rather than use the ‘fridge
which is rather heavy on the battery power.
We up anchor at about eight and the wind is in a reasonably favourable
direction so we hoist the main and, once out of the harbour, unfurl the jib. It’s a
beam reach which is the best point of sail for a catamaran. Initially, Graeme
keeps both engines running and we are making eight and a half knots. We
should reach our first port of call, Deshaies, by lunch time.
There’s a bleeping of a ‘phone which turns out to be mine. Sandy has tried to
call me twice but I haven’t heard it above the wind and engines. I try to ring him
back but only get his message service. We think we know the reason for his
call. One of the crew’s bags was mistakenly taken by a taxi driver last night. It
has been returned and we have it on board. I leave Sandy a message saying
so.
Batteries now fully charged, Graeme cuts the engines and we are proceeding
under sail and still maintaining our eight and a half knots. We reckon the wind
speed is about fifteen knots.
Not long after we left, Graeme trailed a fishing line behind the boat. Suddenly
the line goes taught and the rod bends. We had been a bit sceptical about a
fish taking a bait at this speed but one has. Graeme reckons it’s a barracuda
and weighs about five pounds. At the speed we are sailing he is struggling reel
it in and asks me to head up into wind to slow us down. The fish comes in quite
easily and he lands it into the dinghy. Graeme, like every fisherman, claims it’s
five to six feet long but it’s more like three. You can’t land a barracuda into the
boat because of it’s vicious teeth. It has to be left in the dinghy until it finally
expires which takes more than half an hour. Every time I think it’s dead it starts
flapping madly again. Graeme tells me not to feel sorry for it as barracuda are
rather vicious fish. I still can’t help thinking I would like to finish it off quickly.
Apparently, a dose of rum in the gills will do it but there’s no way of getting at
the fish without a serious risk of injury.
We arrive off Deshaies just after one and, amongst the chores, John has the
responsibility of filleting the fish which we plan to eat tomorrow. Graeme sorts
out the dinghy so we can go ashore later and I am left with the washing up.
Moored up next to us is a catamaran with seven men on it mostly dressed in
small, tight swimming costumes except one who is naked. We suspect they are
very ‘friendly’ with each other but we become a bit concerned when one of them
trains his binoculars on us. We are three men on our own and we wonder if
they are having the same thought about us.
Having tried my Antiguan ‘phone without success I switch to my English one
which does work. To check it I ring Lindsay and say which ‘phone I am using.
We are about to eat and I tell Lindsay it’s dry bread and water. A little later, just
as we have finished the egg mayonnaise, tomato, pickle and pepper filled

French bread rolls accompanied by chilled white wine, Lindsay rings. She is
having problems with one of the programmes on the computer. With an
interruption when the line does dead, I talk her through the problem. It never
fails to amaze me that Lindsay doesn’t realise that when I am using my U.K.
‘phone it is clocking up at a rate of 91p per minute.
Without fail, whenever I go on a sailing trip I leave something behind. One
would have thought that by now I should be able to get it right. At least, this
time, it’s only my comb.
Later still, the others having gone for a siesta and I am at my keyboard, the
‘phone rings again. It’s Stan. He wants my approval to alter an e-mail I sent to
relating to West Indies Oil and forward it to them. It’s a long e-mail and I notice
when he has finished that he was on the ‘phone to me for over fourteen
minutes. I hope he realises that he was ‘phoning via the U.K.. In fact,
somewhat puzzling is that when both Lindsay and Stan rang me the number on
the screen was the same U.K. number for both of them even though they were
using different ‘phones and both ringing from Antigua.
Ashore for food and water, well, beer and some French style rum drink which is
called Tipanche but I doubt is spelt that way. It tastes rather like tequila. We
eat at a restaurant where we ate last time in Deshaies mainly because it’s one
of the few open. I make my usual mistake of being experimental and to make
matters worse, I have left my glasses on the boat which means the menu has to
be read to me. As a starter I chose an assiette of crab, conch and something
else. I can’t say it is particularly enjoyable. The others have fish soup (I am
trying to spell it the French way but my spell check keeps changing it to
‘passion’). We all have steak as a main and it’s okay but not brilliant.
By the time we get back to the boat I am definitely in need of sleep. I open my
book to read a little but my eyes close themselves before I can focus on a single
word.
Day 186 – Wednesday. Despite no dogs, I am awake at six. The local church
bell chimes but I must have missed the first one because I only count five.
There are noises in the boat which indicates that the others are also awake.
Seven o’clock John and I go ashore in the dinghy for some supplies after a
struggle to start the outboard. Last night Graeme struggled for ages then I had
a go and it started straight away. It’s my turn to struggle. After an interminable
number of pulls I give up and John has a go. It starts but fails repeatedly.
Eventually it runs and we make away ashore.
Suitable kitted up with French baguettes we up anchor at seven thirty. There is
little wind but we hoist the main for stability. In the lee of the island we motor for
about three hours and we are just reaching the corner when we are hit by a
vicious squall. Graeme takes the helm over from the autohelm and is

thoroughly soaked. I feel he can’t stand on deck alone and half come out. Not
enough to keep completely dry but under enough cover not to get drenched.
The Saintes and Dominica are just visible through the haze of the squalls as is
Marie Galante a little later. We seem to be dogged by squalls with winds
around thirty knots, not that the wind is a problem but driving into the rain is
very tedious.
Turning the corner to come around the southern end of the island we are into
wind on the nose and current against us. Our speed is down to about four
knots and we are tacking along the coast, not something recommended in a
catamaran. More squalls come along and I suggest to Graeme that it’s not fair
for him to suffer a further squall and I take over. I am not sure how long I am on
the helm but at one stage I ask for sun glasses to keep the water out of my
eyes. There are none available so Graeme offers me a peaked cap. It does
the job except that it keeps trying to take off and I have to use one hand to keep
it in place.
Graeme takes over again in the early afternoon, only just in time for me as
another squall hits. I go below and crash for an hour. I wake up as we are
approaching Pointe å Pietre. Graeme has stopped the boat. There is an
enormous squall obliterating Guadeloupe and the entrance to the marina. We
sit it out as it goes by.
Once in the marina we are directed to a very convenient berth, right on the
dockside. We tie up to a couple of buoys with the assistance of a one of the
harbour boats, moored stern-to. We have Geoffrey Pidduck’s main sail on
board and head off to the sailmakers to deliver it for some alterations. I suggest
to John we should not walk across the sail loft floor in our shoes. He ignores
my advice and suffers a withering look from the sailmaker who can’t speak any
English.
John is cooking the barracuda for dinner and we need something to accompany
it, in particular, some wine. we head ashore again for some supplies. The white
wine is not chilled so we put in the ice box and have a shower before
disembarking a seeking out the nearest bar for a beer and, yet again, Tipanche.
Porte de Petra could be anywhere in France. The architecture is French, most
of the people we come across are white and, of course, they all speak French.
Perhaps the most obvious is the chauvinistic attitude the French have to cars,
95% are French and mainly diesels.
Back on board John cooks the barracuda which, despite my lack of liking for
fish, I quite enjoy. Unfortunately, as I have spent my time on the computer, the
washing up is my task. Seems like home from home.

Having reserved a berth next to us for Sandy, we make several attempt to raise
him by ‘phone and radio, unsuccessfully. He should be quite close. He and
several other boats are coming up the natural channel which divides the two
halves of the island. Guadeloupe is, in fact two islands which, being on
separate tectonic plates, have collided but with a small gap in the middle. The
geology of the two halves of the island is completely different from each other.
The main problem is that there are two bridges connecting the two halves of the
island and they only open at eight in the evening. No consideration, these
French.
I go to bed at around ten and try read for a while but my eyelids have a mind of
their own and I fall asleep, chapter unfinished only to be awoken at around
midnight by Sandy mooring up alongside. There’s no quiet way to tie alongside
but even if there was Sandy wouldn’t know how to use it.
Day 187 – Thursday. Everyone has decided on a lie-in but I wake at six thirty
as usual. Reading for half an hour cures that and I doze until about seven thirty
when I hear movement on deck. Graeme is up and soon after, Sandy, on his
boat next door. A trip to the showers is required and, typically of marina
showers, they are tepid and the water sprays everywhere. My semi-dry clothes
are now less dry.
Back at the boat there are more signs of life. Sandy disappears to buy some
breakfast victuals. Graeme thinks the shop opens at seven thirty but it’s not
open until eight thirty. Sandy returns with breakfast but, not having Euros, gets
fleeced by the French on his dollars.
After breakfast, Graeme, John and I wander over to the internet café. Naturally,
it’s French and all the computers have French keyboards with letters in the
wrong place. It’s quite difficult to access and respond to e-mails. Next on the
list is the chandlery. Graeme has an order for various things from Antigua
including a cooker for Phil and Stephanie’s boat. I have persuaded Sandy that
he needs some jammers for his runners and I elect to buy and fit them. The
chandlery is obviously designed for cruising sailors and sells nothing useful.
Apparently, there is a better one in town.
Being unsuccessful in the chandlery, we head off to the supermarket to fulfil
other orders from Antigua. Graeme and John are a little ahead of me and as I
pass a taxi the driver says ‘Good morning’. We English must look different. We
need to go into town so I call to the others to come back. Unfortunately, the taxi
is booked so we arrange for it come back at two. On our way back from the
supermarket we stop at a bar for a beer. Sandy appears, covered in dirt and
grease from trying to repair an oil leak on the engine. Geoffrey also turns up.
It’s becoming quite a party.

Back on the boat John, Graeme and I organise ourselves some lunch and John
opens one of the bottles of wine he is supposed to be taking back to Antigua. I
am in danger of becoming an alcoholic.
Our taxi driver is standing on the dockside and we prepare to leave. Sandy
asks me to change some dollars into Euros and buy a few bits in the chandlery.
Driving into town I am a little disappointed by what we see. It’s a bit like a
rougher version of Croydon or Brixton except built mainly of timber and
corrugated iron, none of the French chic I expected. We arrive in town to find
the chandlery closed. It reopens at two thirty so we walk into the centre of town.
There is a bank nearby where I can change Sandy’s money. It takes me a few
moments to work out how to get through the electric doors with it’s buttons and
lights which shut you into a secure compartment and won’t let you out until both
doors are shut.
A combination of an inefficient French banking system coupled with Caribbean
laisé faire means it takes half an hour to change two hundred dollars. The
others have left me and we agree to meet at the chandlery at twenty to three. I
don’t leave the bank until quarter to and it’s pouring with rain. I get accosted by
several taxi drivers but since I only know where I am going by reversing my
steps the taxis are not much use to me. I am pretty wet by the time I meet up
with the other and this chandlery doesn’t have most of the things we want. On
the way back, Graeme remembers a rigging shop in the boatyard. The taxi
drops me at the edge of the marina and it’s still raining. The rigging shop has
everything I need. By the time I am back on the boat I am wet again. Checking
out my theory for jammers on Sandy’s runner, it’s going to work but I don’t feel
inclined to fit them in rain which is still persistent and heavier. I will get up and
do them in the morning. Sandy, who has continued working despite the
weather, looks a bedraggled mess and Graeme takes a photo as he walks by.
The weather reminds me of the occasions we have sailed across to France and
sat in Fecamp or Dieppe on a rainy day. Graeme reckons that the reason there
is a lack of mosquitoes is because they have all drowned.
Speaking to Lindsay she tells me there are forty one e-mails awaiting me and I
have been away only twenty four hours. If they carry on at this rate there will be
several hundred by the time I return. Apparently, there is only one important e-
mail from the ?Chairman? of West Indies Oil. I ask Lindsay to reply saying I will
be in contact on Tuesday.
We are holding a Tot on Tour at six as there are four club members which is the
minimum number for a tot. Geoffrey has bought some ‘nibbles’ and we have
four guests which include Sandy, two of the crew members, Richard and
Ursula, who are sailing with us and a crew member from Geoffrey’s boat,
Tommy. We can’t be bothered to go out and eat so get take away pizza.
Sandy makes a comment about wanting safe sailing and no protests. Richard
argues with him and Sandy gets cross. Ursula, who I haven’t particularly taken

to suddenly sounds off at Richard who is her partner. She screams and shouts
at him oblivious to the rest of us and the row rumbles on for about an hour until
Richard walks off to bed. Ursula follows a short while later and we can still hear
them arguing in the cabin. I retire not much later.
Day 188 – Friday. Up at six to fit the jammers but Sandy is not up so I don’t
disturb him. When he gets up there are other things he wants to do to the boat
so I wait until he has finished. Before I start I ask Sandy if he minds me putting
four holes in his boat. He tells me that there are so many holes in it already a
few more won’t make much difference. Graeme has provided all the
appropriate tools and the first jammer goes on easily but not the second. As
usual, a ten minute job takes half an hour.
Richard and Ursula appear and the row is still festering. I am not sure I am all
that keen to race with them but it’s too late to do anything now. Things start
badly with Sandy misunderstanding something Richard said about us being
clear as we reverse out of the berth and we get tangled up in a couple of
mooring buoys. As soon as we are clear of the marina we put up the sails and I
take over the helm. We are the third fleet to start and Sandy gets the start time
wrong so we are too early on the line. I want to slow down, luff up and hang
around the starting line for a minute. Sandy says we should do a 360 degree
turn. From experience, I know you lose more than a minute in doing that but it’s
his boat so I comply and we are twenty seconds late on the start line. It’s a race
of quite long legs and we have a few stupid errors, one of which is mine but
caused by trying to help a couple of the crew free a riding turn by luffing the
boat and accidentally tacking it. One of our main problems is that nothing is
ready for the mark roundings so we are loosing time particularly on the
spinnaker hoists. On one occasion I am happily heading for a mark I am told
we have to go around when boats which have rights over us start bearing down
on us I am convinced they will gybe soon to make the mark but they don’t. I
have to crash gybe to avoid them. We have been going to the wrong mark.
Sandy is a bit nervous about going into shallow water so we go offshore into
more current which loses us more time. Partway around the course the tiller
extension breaks which will amuse my old crew since I used to break them
frequently when I had tiller steered boats and always had spares. Sandy tapes
the two parts together. One success is that everyone thinks my jammers are
brilliant.
There is about a two hour break between races while we await the last boat to
finish and then the committee boat crew have lunch, at least, that’s what we
think they are doing since there is no apparent reason for the delay. I tell Sandy
I think we had too much sail area up for the first race and the wind has
increased so I suggest a smaller headsail. Sandy wants to put in a reef but it’s
the headsail which is pulling us up into wind and I say so. In the end we stick
with the same sail plan.

With the second race about to start all of us set our watches. We arrive on the
line in a good position right on time but I can see there is something wrong with
the flag sequence. The Race Committee are a minute slow and all the boats
which arrive on time are trying to slow down and those that are ‘late’ are all
pilling in behind. There are sounds of crunching fibreglass as two boats next to
us collide and there are shouts and bangs up and down the line. How we didn’t
hit anything I have no idea. There is such mayhem there is a general recall and
we have another start. This time we are not so well placed. With the stronger
wind we are rather over pressed and are not making the speed we should.
There is the usual chaos on the mark rounding where we have to hoist the
spinnaker despite me insisting we had it set up well in advance. Ursula, who is
supposed to be on the spinnaker halyard is doing something she shouldn’t be
and the spinnaker isn’t going up. Unfortunately, Ursula thinks she is a racing
sailor and she hasn’t much of a clue nor has Richard. John, who has never
raced but has done a lot of sailing, proves to be good doing as he is asked and
picking up the job quite quickly. We have a spinnaker gybe at the next mark
and I keep telling Sandy we need to get ready for the gybe but he doesn’t. In
the end we gybe about fifty yards beyond the mark but Ursula, who is supposed
to be handling the sheet has just let go of it and it runs free. I try to catch it as
does John, we both miss but Sandy doesn’t. However, I have to run down wind
for another fifty yards before it’s sorted by which time we are very shy on what
was already shy reach. We struggle under spinnaker so decide to drop it.
Somehow the sheet comes free from spinnaker so it has to come down using
the guy. I try to tell Richard to pull it down forward of the spinnaker pole but he
pulls it down from behind and trips the guy off the spinnaker so nothing is
attached except the halyard and the spinnaker steams out in front of the boat. I
head the boat up into wind and, fortunately, it blows back into the boat and it is
recovered quickly but we have lost a lot of time. We have no other problems in
the rest of the race but we are ‘down the pan’ as far as the results are
concerned.
When we get in we find out that half the fleet has been timed out including us
and Geoffrey. A combination of French organisation and the way the fleets are
divided up means there is a massive handicap spread and the big, fast boats
finish an hour ahead of the slowest boats. For some reason, any boat finishing
more than half an hour behind the lead boat is timed out. Setting a time limit
only works in a race if the handicaps are close as I found out when I once
organised a regatta.
I am worn out not having helmed a boat with a tiller for some years and different
parts of my body from usual ache but, much to my surprise, everyone praises
me for my helming. I am surprised since I am not happy with it. The praise
even softens me, a little, to Ursula.
The Frenchman from whom I bought the jammers walks past and I ask him if he
has any tiller extensions. He says he will bring one along later and duly does.

There is a party ashore with free dinks and food but I am not up to alcohol and
have something to eat and one, small Tipanche. I look at the photos being
shown on a large screen hoping to see a picture of Streaker (Sandy’s boat) on a
beat so I can show him we had too much canvass up but the only photo is one
of us under spinnaker. Wanting a long, non-alcoholic drink, I return to the boat.
Sandy follows shortly after and the others about half an hour later. The drinks
come out and Graeme puts on some music that everyone raves about except
me. A discussion develops between John and Graeme about the relative merits
of whatever music is playing and Ursula tries to join in. The problem with
Ursula is that whatever anyone has done, seen, read or heard, Ursula has done
it before and probably better except that she evidently hasn’t. I find her
increasingly irritating and can’t imagine why Richard puts up with her. She
treats him abominably but then he’s not the brightest star on the horizon.
Fortunately, John, who unlike Richard and Ursula, is much more capable than
he says. When I asked him if he’d done any sailing he said he’d done a little
but no racing. Quite evidently he has done a lot of sailing. It’s so often the case
that those who shout about how good they are prove to be less competent than
those who don’t say very much.
Day 189 – Saturday. I’m up at around six as is Graeme but the others don’t
surface for a while. The only task on the boat is to replace the tiller extension
which I broke yesterday and, after breakfast, we left for the race course without
incident.
The first race was largely without incident except that Sandy insisted we went
offshore when we learnt yesterday that going offshore was the wrong way and
we lose time again and it rains. As we approach the finish a really heavy squall
hits and we get soaked. Sandy points to a boat which he says was behind us
and is now ahead, just. I realise that if I tack under the stern of the Committee
Boat and luff on the finish line we can just beat him which we do by about five
seconds but Sandy’s boat just stalls when you luff and the wind blows us back
and onto the Committee Boat. Fortunately, we have finished so there is no
penalty.
There is less rain out to sea so we sail out to await the second race and the
wind dies. There is a debate over the radio, in French, as to whether there
should be a second race. In the end they decide to start the next one after
three o’clock when the wind fills in. We are hanging around near the start line
and Sandy is asleep on deck. The flag sequence starts which means, on past
experience, that our start is in another sixteen minutes. There is no hurry for us
to get into position, in fact, we have to stay clear of the start line during other
fleets starts. Unfortunately, they have switched us from the third start to the first
start and we are not ready. To make matters worse boats from other fleets
were obstructing our course to the start line. It takes us five minutes to cross
the line. What is puzzling most of the crew is that nearly all the fleet are on the
line on time. We had the radio on and, although the announcements are in
French, between us we are able to work out what is said. I think only I realised

that Ursula turned the radio off, turning it back on just before the start of the
race so we heard no announcement stating a change of start sequence. Later,
we learn that there was an announcement on the radio although not in English.
It must have occurred whilst the radio was off. Sandy is somewhat upset so I
don’t tell him about the radio being off. To be fair, it is Ursula’s personal hand
held radio and Sandy hadn’t turned on the boat’s radio.
On the way back in Sandy tries to start the engine, always a problem since the
starter motor doesn’t work and it has to be hand started. Sandy spays some
ether into the air filter to assist the starting, pulls on the rope and there is a big
bang. We think the ether has blown a hole in the top of the piston. We have no
engine and have to sail in.
The regatta party is at seven but on the other side of the estuary, about two
hundred yards away. The way round by road is about five miles. We go to
where the water taxi is supposed to be and there is a group of French people
waiting as well but there is no sign of a taxi. Further down the quay there are
another group of French people climbing into a boat. We go and join them.
About twenty people pile into the boat. It transpires that someone is a practical
joker and this is no a water taxi. He tries to cast off the boat but someone
prevented him. Eventually, the water taxi arrives and we elicit from him that the
return journeys are twelve thirty and one thirty. There is no way I am waiting
until then.
At the party we select a table before they all get taken. Unfortunately, the other
side of the screen a band starts up at full volume. We are stuck as there is
nowhere else to sit. There is some kind of floor show going on the other side of
the screen but most of us can’t be bothered to get up and watch. This is
followed by a bagpipe band which, being a Scot, Sandy immediately starts a
Highland gig and becomes the floor show. After dinner John and I go to look for
a taxi, the conventional kind. We are asked to follow someone and Graeme
joins us. We have no idea where we are being taken. It turns out a French
couple have agreed to drive us back to the marina. They have a two door
version of a car I considered buying when we arrived in Antigua, Toyota Prado.
I didn’t know they made a two door version. It is quite impressive. As is get out
I realise I have a lot of mud on my shoes and try to brush it of the carpet. The
French lady very kindly tells me not to worry.
Much to our surprise the others appear about half an hour later.
Day 190 – Sunday. Lots of hangovers. Even though I didn’t drink too much I
feel a bit rough and it’s pouring with rain. The jacket I hung up to dry, under
cover, is now wet on the inside as the wind has blown the rain into it. My sailing
trousers also haven’t dried so I will start wet but since I looks like another rainy
day I don’t suppose it will make much difference.

With no engine we have to sail out and we pull ourselves out of the berth on the
buoy line. Sandy calls for the jib to be hoisted when we are still going
backwards so the wind just blows further backward and we get stuck on the
side of the marina. In retrospect, we should have pulled ourselves forward
before hoisting the sail. We call to a French boat to give us a tow and they
promptly catch their keel or ru8dder on a mooring buoy. The whole thing is
becoming a complete disaster. Fortunately, they are able to free themselves
and give us a tow.
Sandy decides he wants to helm and it’s one long race. Finally, Sandy agrees
to my suggested sail plan of a number two jib and full main. The boat is
immediately better balanced and Sandy comments that perhaps we should
have used the number to in the previous races. The first leg is a long, five mile
beat and about halfway down the leg we are hit by a strong squall. Seeing it
coming, we put in a reef but are still well over pressed even with an extra
person, Graeme, on board. Boats around us are reefing or taking down sails
and one keeps pointing at us. As I am working the main sheet I am able to
move around and have a check to see the problem. We have ripped the jib and
take it down. We leave it down until the squall passes through. There is some
discussion about retiring and Sandy vacillates. The wind has eased and I think
we will be better off with the number one jib than none at all although with rather
too much sail up. Richard gets a bit panicky and doesn’t want us to continue
and Ursula expresses concern, apparently for the safety of Sandy’s sail. I am a
bit more cynical and think she’s scared so don’t push the point. Sandy then
reveals he has another number two jib below. That settles it, I go and haul it up
on deck. It’s a Kevlar jib and I notice that after only a few hundred yards it is
delaminating. I tell Sandy but as we have only a short distance to go to the
mark he decides to keep it up. Two tacks to the mark and the sail is ripped in
half. Now we are stuck with only the number one.
Sandy is not keen to put up the spinnaker but I argue with him that a spinnaker
is much more stable down wind so he agrees and hands over the helm to me
but says we are not gibing. For some reason Sandy has a paranoia about
reach to reach gybing. I point out that there is no such thing on a boat with
runners as you have to go dead down wind in order to gybe and, anyway, we
won’t be reaching. Halfway down the leg, we gybe without problem mainly as
we have Graeme in the cockpit which avoids the screw ups usually made by
Ursula.
We have several more long legs regularly interrupted by squalls with Sandy
helming up wind and me down. By now we are all thoroughly wet and those
with little to do, quite cold. Sandy is getting depressed. We reckon we have an
hour to an hour and a half to go to finish and the lead boat, a seventy foot
Swan, is about fifteen minutes from the finish line. Anyone finishing more than
an hour after the lead boat is automatically disqualified. I am in favour of going
on as there is a small chance we may finish inside the time limit but I am out
voted. There is a boat we have been directly racing against and have pulled out

a reasonable lead. They are carrying on and Sandy wants to hang around and
show them that we are retiring but have beaten them so far. In his anxiety to
meet them at a one of the marks he doesn’t concentrate on sailing and tacks
and gybes the boat at random, interfering with other boats still racing. Ursula
yells at Richard who is standing, oblivious of the gyrating boom, to sit down.
When he asks why she say’s she will tell him later but he does as he is told.
Poor Richard. He is so hen pecked.
We head back into the marina which is a couple of miles away and Sandy
hands over the helm to me as there is another squall coming and he wants to
take down the head sail. I point out that it is only a rain squall and that there is
no real wind in it and we need the head sail power. Sandy hesitates long
enough for the squall to hit us and, sure enough, it is only rain. It passes
through quite quickly and we arrive off the entrance to the marina and Sandy
wants to take the head sail down again. I am against it as we have no engine
and need the power to sail into the berth. Sandy insists and it comes down.
Now we seem to be drifting with insufficient sail area to drive us in the light
wind. Sandy suggests we ought to anchor which sends Richard into a complete
panic, grabbing the anchor and Ursula yelling and waving at passing boats
trying to get a tow. I tell Sandy that if everyone calms down we can still sail
onto the berth. Even that is not without drama as I point out to Sandy that the
better line into the berth is between two buoys at about forty five degrees rather
than turning in at ninety degrees. Richard has another panic attack as he
wanted to grab a line to stop us which he now can’t reach. We have so little
way on that grabbing the line is quite unnecessary and, anyway, I have the best
boat brake ever invented in my hand. A bucket on a line. Even that proves
unnecessary.
By the time we tie up the rain has become heavy and persistent. We are all
soaked and freezing. Incipient hypothermia is the order of the day. We leave
the boat with the sails on deck and climb onto Graeme’s for hot drinks and a
change into dry clothes. The rain doesn’t cease and, in the end, Sandy and
Richard strip to shorts to tidy up. I don’t envy them and am quite please when
they say there is no point in anyone else getting wet.
The crew are taking Graeme and Sandy out to dinner and we go to the nearest
restaurant on the basis that Graeme says it’s quite good and, if it starts raining
again, it’s not too far back to the boat. It doesn’t open until seven so we have a
drink in the adjacent bar. I can’t keep up with all this alcohol having thrown
away my free Tipanche and have a coke.
We are seated at a table and served by a waiter who speaks perfect English but
Ursula insists on speaking to him in inadequate French. Very politely, he
replies in French but, of course, she can only understand half of what he says.
Despite this, she persists in speaking French to him throughout the meal. I have
come to the conclusion that she really is a ghastly woman and I am quite
pleased when she falls asleep at the table.

Day 191 – Monday. We plan to leave as early as we can and Graeme goes to
collect some photographic material for someone backing Antigua plus check us
out with immigration. John and I do a few things to prepare the boat the he
goes to do some shopping and I go to the internet café to check the weather
maps. The written forecasts aren’t too bad but the satellite map is not too
promising. There is nothing to stop us going. Sandy is taking Ursula and
Richard to the Saintes, islands about twenty miles south of Guadeloupe and is
planning to set off a couple of ours after us.
As we sail around the southern end of Guadeloupe we see a sail several miles
behind us and presume it to be Sandy. The boat appears to be heading for the
Saintes so there is a fair chance it is. Sandy is going to have to sail all the way
to Antigua and, with the big wind shadow to the west of Guadeloupe, it could
take him a long time. He plans a couple of stops so we don’t expect to see him
until Thursday. Before leaving, I tell him that if we don’t see him by Thursday
evening we will send out the search parties.
The wind dies as we continue down the west side of the island and we are
motoring with sails flapping. There’s not a lot to see but we keep watch anyway
in case of lobster pots. There seem to be almost as many here as in the
Channel. We don’t have any specific watch system, we just wander up on deck
in turns. The seating position is not the most comfortable and as the autohelm
is steering the boat the most comfortable position is to stand, resting on the
cockpit canopy and looking ahead.
The wind picks up as we approach the north end of the island and as we leave
Guadeloupe dusk settles. Graeme suggest we need to keep a better look out
as many fishing boats don’t have lights but all we see is a freighter followed, not
long after, by a large tanker. When we are about twenty five miles from Antigua
I see a flashing light. It’s rather intermittent and John, who is on deck with me,
can’t spot it. I wonder if it is a stern light of another boat occasionally being
obscured by waves which have now grown to about six feet but it looks a bit
high up. Graeme is equally puzzled and suggests it may be an aircraft warning
light on top of on of Antigua’s radio masts. If so, it is extremely bright. As we
get closer we can see it is a beacon set up in the hills rather like a light house.
It probably has been recently installed as Graeme has never seen it before.
Unlike when crossing the Channel from Brighton, the lights of Antigua can be
seen ahead and the light of Guadeloupe can be seen behind. The night is quite
clear and, although there is some cloud cover, the moon is nearly full and very
bright. I am still wearing shorts and T-shirt and just on the edge of being cool
when John calls me into the cockpit for dinner. He has done a chilli which is hot
and very welcome.
As we approach Antigua I can see a large rain cloud. We have sailed all day
without getting wet, apart from the occasional rogue wave, for the first time

since we left Antigua. It would be just our luck to get ‘dumped on’ as we are
mooring up. Fortunately, it crosses in front of us.
We arrive in English Harbour at around nine thirty and tie up on a buoy in
Graeme’s usual parking space. I ring Lindsay to come and pick me up and
while I wait Graeme opens a bottle of white wine. I am still on the boat when
Lindsay arrives and get Graeme to run me ashore in the dinghy.
The dogs seem to be quite pleased to have me back home and appear to have
grown a bit in a week, particularly Sunny who has filled out a lot. I suspect
Lindsay has been spoiling them in my absence.
Day 192 – Tuesday. There are nearly a hundred e-mails waiting for me but as
most of them are a bit out of date I skip through them and only reply to a few but
it still takes me several hours. There is also a fax saying that the Marine Guide
has left the printers and is on its way to the shipping company to be loaded on
board on Friday, due in Antigua tomorrow.
What has arrived are the two laptop computers for Graeme and me. Graeme
collects his but I don’t have time to even open the box on mine. As the new
laptop is really designed for home, I have brought the home computer into the
office. Having installed it I realise that it will not communicate with the printers
wirelessly so I have to move it to the other side of the office, next to the printers.
Callie calls in at around lunch time and keeps me occupied until after five
bringing me up to date on what has been happening. I am not sure I can cope
with her hype-active nature for many more hours also I am getting a little
irritated by the way she uses my office for all the international calls. I will be glad
when this marine exhibition is over
By the end of the day I feel I have achieved very little but also feel as though I
could do with a drink so I rapidly agree when Lindsay rings and suggests I meet
her at the Tot. Graeme is there and is please with his new computer but it
doesn’t have Microsoft Office installed. He has a perfectly legal copy in the
U.K. and I have a legal copy here, We agree that it won’t be an infringement of
copyright if he uses my copy. My only problem is that I am not sure where I
have put the code to my disk. I promise to look it out and let him have the copy.
Anyway, I am likely to need it for my new laptop.
Day 193 – Wednesday. Feeling a little worn out I am a bit slow to get into the
office and there is an answerphone message from Alexis. He is having difficulty
in tracing the Marine Guide which should be arriving on the ship today. The
U.S. shipping agent seems to have no trace of it.
Shortly after Graeme ‘phones using Skype on his new computer. The delay
makes it sound more like a transmission from the moon. He wonders whether

it’s the new computer but I suspect it is more likely to be Cable & Wireless’s
intermittent internet connection.
An e-mail from John Burton tells me he thinks the planning application for
Brighton marina has been refused. I look at Brighton & Hove Council’s website
and see the Planning Committee turned it down nine to three with some very
strong reasons. I now wonder whether the yacht club may have ‘shot itself in
the foot’ by coming down on the side of the developers. While I was in
Guadeloupe I received the minutes of the EGM which discussed the club’s
attitude to the development following negotiations with the developers. I was a
bit horrified to read that not only had the very valid objections been withdrawn,
something I may well have supported under the circumstances, but also the
club had offered unqualified support for the development. When I was on Mid
Sussex Council if anyone switched from a valid objection to outright support the
switch was viewed with some scepticism and the original grounds for objection
often continued to be taken into account. It may have been more sensible to
have withdrawn the objections advising the Council that the club had come to
an accommodation with the developers. Councillors understand that but to give
wholehearted support for something the club previously, strenuously, objected
to undermines the club’s creditability. I only hope the club has no cause for
objection in the future.
I unpack my new laptop which is rather smart and start to set it up. All the
software installs okay except the one programme Graeme wants to borrow. I
try all the key codes I have but none works. I remember a friend in the U.K.
who has given me key codes in the past and, fortunately, I have his telephone
number so I give him a ring. He is quite surprised to hear from me and we have
a chat about what has happened since we left the U.K.. I tell him my problem
and he gives me a code. I try it but it doesn’t work. I ring him back and he
gives me another code but that doesn’t work either. In desperation I e-mail
Microsoft but I doubt they will give me one since I never registered the
programme with them. Next door to my office is the computer company which
sold me the laptops. I ask if they have a code and they do and it works. We
are in business.
The laptop automatically finds my internet connections and within a few minutes
I have Skype downloaded and can use the Skype ‘phone Graeme brought out
from the U.K.. It’s just like using a normal ‘phone and perfectly clear but at a
cost of only a few pence per minute. I understand there are now ways to
connect to an ordinary telephone so that incoming calls can be received as
easily as it is to make an outgoing.
There seem to be all kinds of extra bits I need such as a mouse, carrying case
and an extension power cable. It’s just as well we now have a computer
business next door otherwise I would be running back and forth to St. John’s.

As my father has recently come out of hospital from an operation I telephone
but he is asleep and I speak to my mother. She suggests I ring back in a
fortnight when he is fully recovered.
An e-mail from the Marine Guide printers tells me the shippers left the Guide on
the dock in the U.S. so it won’t be here for another week which is a good and a
bad thing since I won’t have much time for the marine exhibition once the Guide
arrives.
Callie arrives and I must admit I am getting a bit fed with her constant calling in,
telephoning and e-mailing. Also, in my absence she seems to have managed
to get a bit above herself. She tries to give me some instructions and my
obvious irritation shows and Callie realises it’s time to leave.
With no news on the plot we want I keep pursuing other avenues. There is an
estate in probate and I have, at last, managed to make contact with the solicitor
dealing with the matter. She tells me they will have land for sale but not for a
month. I suspect it will probably be much longer but I agree to ring her in a
month’s time.
At the Tot meet someone who is a Rear-commodore at Chichester Yacht Club.
It turns out that one of their closest friends and Vice-commodore of Chichester
is an old friend of mine who I first met in 1973 but haven’t seen for a few years.
Later I am asked to sit in on an examination of a new member. It’s to get me
used to examining people as only full members are permitted to test people.
When it’s over, Lindsay gets ready to leave. She has her own car. I am asked
to give two people a lift. Trying to extract them from the bar takes nearly half an
hour and when I eventually get home, Lindsay is not too amused.
Day 194 – Thursday. I get into the office reasonably early to try to catch up on
various bits and pieces but mainly to load programmes onto the new computer.
It always takes a lot longer than one thinks and suddenly Lindsay appears with
lunch. It seems almost as though I have done nothing.
Taking no notice of my mother as usual, I try my father again. This time he
answers the ‘phone. Being a bit deaf, he has difficulty in hearing me and then
he disappears altogether. I ring back. From what my mother told me, he has
been avoiding telling anyone why he has had the operation and what it was. He
tells me about the operation but not the cause.
A telephone call from the Chairman of West Indies Oil offers us EC$16,000 in
sponsorship or EC$10,000 plus 1,000 gallons of fuel oil plus the use of the best
steel band in the Caribbean free of charge. My inclination is to take the $10,000
and the diesel as we can use the oil for promotional purposes. I ring Stan in the
U.K. and e-mail the others for their opinion. Everyone agrees and I confirm with
West Indies Oil that I will meet them on Monday to finalise details.

Tracy arrives to discuss final details for the social events for the Marine Expo.
There seems to have been a fundamental misunderstanding of how the
resuscitation competition is to work and she has gone well over budget on other
things. I don’t think she is terribly happy when I tell her there will have to be
some revisions. I suspect she has put a lot of work into it.
Callie arrives a little later and is as hyper as ever. She keeps saying she can’t
wait for this to be over. She’s not the only one and Nigel rings wanting an
updated budget. The way Callie keeps spending money it’s not only impossible
to keep track of the budget but there is no doubt we are going way over it.
It’s drinks at the yacht club and Jacko comes up to me and asks if he can clean
my car. I tell him he can only do it if he uses fresh water. Jacko has a habit of
using sea water. About an hour later Jacko reappears. I am about to leave and
he wants to show me he has cleaned the car with fresh water. I walk to the
edge of the balcony and see that Jacko hasn’t cleaned my car, he’s cleaned
Tony’s which is similar to mine and could be confused in the dark. Tony is now
in a bit of difficulty, having announced to everyone that he’d never let Jacko
clean his car. Reluctantly, he gives Jacko EC$5 which I think is a bit mean. I
add the change I have in my pocket which is about another five.
Day 195 – Friday. I have been running on fumes for the past twenty four hours
and wonder if I have enough petrol to get to Slipway to fill up. The problem with
Slipway is that it is open at erratic hours and when I arrive there is no one in
sight. I daren’t drive away as I am not sure I will get back. Eventually, the car is
fill and it takes 17.2 gallons. According to the handbook, the tank only holds 17
gallons. Petrol is not as cheap as it was, now working out at about £2.50 a
gallon or 57p a litre. Since this car doesn’t have a computer I don’t know what
it’s doing to the gallon and I keep forgetting to reset the trip meter when I fill up.
My list of things to do for the Marine Expo seems to grow longer by the day and
I need to find ways to cut the budget. We are some EC$45,000 over the
original budget, much of it to do with items which have been forced on us but I
still feel a responsibility. I keep going back to the ACYM Board telling them of
the over spend and indicating ways of cutting back but no one seems to want to
take responsibility for doing so.
Lindsay has managed to get herself involved with some animal charity called
PAAWS and she has been volunteered to do some leaflets. Julie Ryder
appears in the office with some modifications and, later, sends an e-mail
confirming what she wants done, By one thirty there is no sign of Lindsay so I
ring and she says she will come into the office to sort out the changes.
Graeme also rings to say something has gone wrong with his new computer. I
tell him the person who sold it is in his office and check that he will be in during
the afternoon so Graeme can go to see him. Later he turns up, minus the

computer but receives some suggestions on how to put it right. Apparently,
they work.
The rest of the day is a bit tedious, my work on producing various bits of artwork
required for tickets, signs and posters for the Marine Expo is constantly being
interrupted by the telephone and the necessity to respond to the numerous e-
mails which keep coming in and I am quite pleased when six o’clock comes and
I can leave the office for the Tot.
Lindsay is preparing a joint of beef for dinner and lights the oven. She
comments that the gas has run out but, checking the rings on the top they still
light. She goes to relight the oven but must have forgotten to turn the gas off as
she checked the rings. There is a large bang as the oven explodes.
Fortunately not doing Lindsay or the oven any damage only the box of matches
which is scattered all over the floor. Earlier, Lindsay had been frying the joint
and I asked her what she was doing. Flash frying to seal it. I now accuse her
of trying to flash cook it.
Day 196 – Saturday. Taking the dogs for a walk at six it is almost like an early
English autumn day. It’s crisp and clear with dew on the grass. The sea is as
flat as a mill pond and there is not breath of wind. Visibility is superb and the
smoking volcano of Montserrat stands starkly on the horizon twenty five miles
away. Even the 3,000 foot hills of Guadeloupe, over forty miles away, are
clearly visible.
I now take my Saturday’s as a serious day of rest. Lindsay is planning to go to
the beach and tells me of some land Julie had mentioned. From her description
of the location I know it’s going to be unsuitable but since she is so desperate to
buy something I agree we will go to look when she returns from her swim.
We set off at around twelve and, on our way, stop by a piece of land which is
being cleared. It’s a good location and there are two men working on the site. I
ask one of them if it’s coming up for sale. He doesn’t know but says the owner
will be back in five minutes. It’s almost certainly an Antiguan five minutes and,
ten minutes later, his colleague tells me that the owner who lives adjacent to the
land, has just bought it and won’t be selling it. I am not convinced but now I
know where the owner lives I will call on him later.
We drive out to the land Lindsay wants to see which takes us about half an
hour. Not only is the location unsuitable but there is nothing particularly special
about the land. We miss our turning on the way back and end cutting across
the middle of the island through some quite nice countryside around one of the
reservoirs.
Every time Lindsay see any remotely suitable land Lindsay makes me stop so
she can write down the telephone number. A sign to one piece leads us down a
extremely rough road. Alexis lives down this road and, even after repairs are

done which, in this case, is just grading over the rough earth surface, the road is
still pretty unsuitable. After about a mile we agree to turn back without seeing
the plot. The car sways and pitches fairly violently over the bumps and rut and
is finally too much for Nissan who throws up all over the back seat. Fortunately,
the seat is leather so it will clean easily. I thought he had overcome his car
sickness. Evidently not. I tell Lindsay he’s never going to be a sailor.
Lindsay has a meeting of the charity whose Board she was coerced into joining
while I was away in Guadeloupe. She now has herself involved with two
charities. This is going to impinge on her sun bathing time. She has agreed to
pick up Roger at three thirty and give him a lift to the meeting which is due to
start at four. She says she has no idea how long the meeting will take so will
probably meet me later at Calabash.
I write a letter to the owner of the land and drop it into his house. Having
worked out where the house is in relation to the land I think I may know who
owns it but there is no one at home so I just leave the letter and hope for the
best.
Lindsay is late at Calabash. Apparently, the person she was due to see at four
did not arrive until five.
Day 197 – Sunday. Keep fit is back on the agenda and we all meet at the
Galley bar before going to clear one of the trails. There is quite a party of us
and I take my ‘weed-whacker’ which I can use in earnest for the first time. Most
of the trail is overhung with trees so there is little undergrowth except at the
beginning of the trail. When I have finished this area I am told that higher up
the trail where it comes out at an old dam, there is an open area which needs
clearing. It’s quite a climb. Graeme and a few others are already there. Philip,
who is eighty one, is somewhat exhausted. He shouldn’t really have tackled the
climb and, as a doctor, he ought to know better.
Graeme is clearing a bunch of bushes when he claims to have been stung on
the legs by something like poisoned ivy. Tackling a similar patch of bush I soon
realise what he means as I get stung on my exposed arms. Fortunately, I am
wearing long trousers so my legs are not affected. By the time we are ready to
return the weight of the weed-wacker is beginning to tell. I feel worn out when
we eventually reach the car. Rather foolishly, I have volunteered to sharpen all
the tools which are now loaded into the car.
Rather than go back to the Galley Bar we go to Calabash as it’s nearer. Stan
had ‘phoned me as we were driving to the Galley Bar wanting to meet up. He
has just arrived back from the U.K.. I had told him to meet me at the Galley Bar
at twelve. I ring and tell him of the changed venue and he turns up about fifteen
minutes later. What I thought was going to be about an hour’s meeting
stretches to nearly three.

During the course of the meeting someone comes up and introduces himself as
William Frost. He looks vaguely familiar. He is the owner of Frosts Garages
from where I had bought several of my Jaguars and had my car serviced. He
owns a house nearby which he uses as a holiday home.
We eventually get home at around four and, rather tired, I crash out, waking at
quarter to six. We have missed the Tot and anyway, I probably wouldn’t have
gone except we have been invited for drinks after the Tot at someone’s house
close to Galleon Beach so we have to go down anyway.
The evening is more pleasant than I expected although Terry does his usual by
insisting on swimming naked in the pool regardless of the company. Philip is
encouraged to join him. As I have an appointment with the Managing Director
of West Indies Oil in the morning we leave at around ten.
Day 198 – Monday. As I have a meeting with the Managing Director of West
Indies Oil I feel I ought to put on a tie although I have heard he has had to rush
off to Europe and that I may be stuck with his assistant. A call to West Indies
Oil confirms that the Managing Director has gone to Copenhagen and his
assistant can’t do the time fixed for me. As they say, all dressed up and
nowhere to go. It’s typical of this place, the Managing Director rang me and
asked me to come to see him then disappears without a word.
I have more than enough work to do and, although there were a few other
reasons I wanted to go to St. John’s, none is sufficiently urgent to cause me to
go without having a better reason.
The owner of the land I wrote to on Saturday ‘phones and tells me he buys land
as an investment and doesn’t plan to sell any in the near future. He is not the
person I thought might own it and his English is rather poor. He comes from
somewhere in Europe and I have difficulty in understanding him bit that’s
nothing new as I always have difficulty in understanding accents.
A visit from a very uptight Callie just about puts a seal on the day. Lindsay is in
the office and comments, after Callie has left, that she (Lindsay) can understand
why I am finding it difficult to work with Callie. She must be a nightmare to live
with, nothing in her life is simple although, to give her credit, she does get things
done.
Lindsay is printing some leaflets for the PAAWS charity and as she never likes
me showing her what to do she send the printer into a fit and it spews out reams
of paper containing junk and will not reset itself. I eventually manage to access
it on my computer and tell it to shut off. The problem is I am not the world’s
best teacher, preferring to show people how things are done rather than
explaining them. Lindsay will never let me show and just gets annoyed when I
try to so I give up and let her get on with it with occasional unfortunate results.

I spend the rest of the day designing various promotional leaflets for the Marine
Expo which I enjoy doing. I think they are quite artistic and, fortunately, so do
the others when I e-mail them copies.
I come in from a fair bit comment and some stick for wearing a long sleeved
shirt and tie when I arrive at the Tot. In fact, I have come to the conclusion that
I prefer to be smart rather than casual and now that it’s cooler, will probably do
it more often.
Day 199 – Tuesday. As I have a few things to do in St. John’s including seeing
someone about some minor sponsorship I decide to wear a tie again and this
time I get comments from our office landlord when I arrive. He asks if I am
going to collect a knighthood. I tell him that was yesterday.
A house has come up for sale with views over Falmouth Harbour. From the
details it seems to be too good to be true but, as usual, I can’t get hold of the
agent. There is only an answerphone. I do wonder how they do any business.
Lindsay decides I can do some shopping while in St. John’s and collect the
post. I am almost at the Post Office when I realise I have left the post box key
on my desk. I usually leave it in the car but Lindsay had borrowed it. I ask if
there is any way I can get the post without the key. A lady asks me my post box
number and opens it without any request for identification. In view of the way
identification is required for almost anything, I am quite surprised.
Tuesday is not a particularly good day to go into the supermarket. The shelves
are a bit empty. It seems to take them a few days to restock after the weekend
although I am able to get everything on Lindsay’s list except cauliflower and
milk.
The sponsor I am seeing is also the company from which I bought my UPS
which is playing up. I take it with me and ask them to have a look at it. They
can’t find anything wrong and suggest I take it to one of their sister companies
which has better technical facilities. The other company suggests I leave it with
them and ring after two.
Callie comes into the office at three and, as usual, takes an hour to do what
could be done in ten minutes. I have quite a lot to catch up on and cut her
short. We have a meeting with the ACYM Board at four thirty and I need to sort
some things before going. In the end Callie gets the message and decides to
make some ‘phone calls using my ‘phone. I must admit I find it staggering. She
looks up the numbers she wants to ring on her mobile ‘phone and then uses my
‘phone to ring the people. If it wasn’t for the fact that the Marine Expo needs
her to continue working I would say something about it.
Callie and I arrive at the meeting for 4.30 and we are the first one’s there. The
others drift in over the next half hour. We deal with the marine Expo budget and

I stress there are items which need to be cut unless they want to make a
substantial loss. There is some discussion as to whether they wish to make the
cuts and they say they will let us know tomorrow, Callie hates to be left out of
any discussion and keeps interrupting with unrelated issues. With some
difficulty, I manage to keep her to relevant points. Once we have dealt with the
Expo I suggest we leave as there is little point in us attending the rest of the
discussions and I can se it going on for several hours.
It’s just after five thirty so I decide to drive around to Calabash for the Tot where
I get the same comments as last night for my dress code.
Day 200 – Wednesday. I arrive in the office to realise I have left all my money
in the trousers I was wearing yesterday. I try to ring Lindsay but, as usual, she
hasn’t turned on her ‘phone. I leave her a message but it is unlikely she will get
it before she arrives here.
I also try to telephone the agent with the house and the company where I left
the UPS. In both cases I only get an answerphone. I try Lindsay again and she
is halfway into the office. She hasn’t received the message and is not amused
when I suggest she returns home to collect my money.
Lindsay is attempting to print some leaflets for a charity but as she is not over
familiar with the programmes she does tend to go about it in the longest
possible way. When I am driving to and from St. John’s she rings and asks me
to sort out problems which is a little difficult when you can’t see what’s wrong.
One of the reasons I have to go to St. John’s is to collect some more ink for the
laser printer, Lindsay’s leaflets are consuming it like it’s going out of fashion.
She tells me that a cartridge should do 2,000 sheets at 5% coverage. She’s
doing 100% coverage which means a cartridge will only do around 100 sheets
and the cartridges cost EC$470 each, over £100. These charities are getting
quite expensive.
I only just get to the bank in time, Lindsay having held me up in the office with
some post see wanted sent. The bank doors are closed behind me and it’s only
two o’clock. My UPS which was supposed to be ready yesterday is in pieces on
the repair man’s work bench and he suggests Friday before it will be ready. By
the time I have finished my various other errands its gone four by the time I am
back in the office and struggling to finish my day’s work. Lindsay says I am
looking very tired and, I must admit, I feel it.
The power goes off at ten to six and although the building now has a generator,
without my UPS, everything shuts down. There is no point in starting everything
up again so I decide to close. There is just about enough time for me to get to
the Tot. I make it with seconds to spare.

Geoff Pidduck tells me I have been nominated as the yacht club Commodore. I
know he’s kidding but, apparently, I have been nominated as the Racing Fleet
Captain. I’m not sure why as u don’t have a boat at the moment and I haven’t
spent much time in the yacht club.
Day 201 – Thursday. I try to get to the car park where will the Marine Expo will
be erected to measure out exactly where it should be sited. The intention is to
site it more or less where it had been last year but I want to be sure there is
enough space for our external displays. Despite the early hour, the car park is
three quarters full and I am dodging cars as I lay out my tape.
I finally get the go ahead on everything we need for the Marine Expo from the
ACYM Board. A bit late but just about in time to get things done. It is only two
weeks away so I can’t wait for three weeks time when it will be all over. It’s just
as well the Marine Guide has been delayed otherwise I would never have had
the time to do everything. Today is entirely taken up by Marine Expo business
and I don’t leave the office all day.
Lindsay comes in, this time to do some of our work and goes out to deliver the
charity leaflets then off to a charity meeting which has been cancelled but no
one has told her. When she returns she starts cursing at the computer because
it won’t print. It prints wirelessly through my computer and sometime I have to
reconfigure the connection. However, on this occasion, nothing I do works.
After about fifteen minutes I am about to give up and Lindsay is about to
connect her computer direct to the printer when I suddenly remember I had
been using one of the computers which doesn’t connect wirelessly and I had
swapped over the printer cable.
Two ladies appear at four and tell me they have a meeting in my office. I have
no knowledge of it whatsoever. Fortunately, the have the wrong venue. One of
them gives me a calendar and tells me she usually charges for them but I can
have this one for free.
A call from the Social Secretary of the yacht club confirms my nomination and I
am asked to go and sign my agreement. The AGM is on the 15 th December
which will be eleven days after I retire as President of B.M.Y.C.. It seem as
though I am going to have only a very short break not being a yacht club official.
I meet Lindsay at the yacht club where the Tot is being held and try to find the
find the form I am supposed to sign. No one seems to know where it is.
Lindsay reminds me that I am supposed to be playing bridge at the club but I
have completely forgotten. I can’t say I am particularly in the mood but agree
anyway. It’s about twelve years since I have played bridge and I am a bit rusty.
I don’t get a biddable hand out of the first three deals but on the third respond to
with a bid which my partner obviously feels is a bit rash as do the other players
around the table. Fortunately, I make it but success must have gone to my
head because I make some foolish mistakes with the next hand and lose three

tricks unnecessarily which costs us the rubber. After another bit of poor play on
my part I decide it’s time to go home.
Jacko has cleaned my car, not very well in the dark. He gives me a pumpkin
from which he says I can make some soup. I hate pumpkin soup but take it
anyway.
Day 202 – Friday. It’s not by any chance the 13 th ? Things start to go wrong
almost from the beginning of the day. Firstly, when I have just completed a
large amount of work on the computer but not saved it, the power goes off.
Since I still don’t have my UPS my computer turns off with the power. I start the
generator and turn the computer on in the forlorn hope that the auto save might
have retrieved something. It hasn’t.
An e-mail from the printers who are supposed to be doing the Marine Expo tells
me their press has broken down and the part they need has to be shipped in
from the U.S.. They doubt they can get the printing done in time. It’s back to
other printers I had rejected to see if they can help out. One almost doubles his
price, a second increases it a bit but a third actually reduces it. I wonder why
but decide to go with them anyway.
The Deputy Managing Director of West Indies Oil telephones. They have
decided to cut their sponsorship in half and ask for my reaction. I say I will call
back. I telephone Stan and we agree that we will tell that, having announced
their sponsorship the subsequent publicity will be worse than if they had done
no sponsorship. Neither Stan nor I can get hold of anyone at West Indies Oil.
No doubt they are avoiding us.
I have Bridge programme on CD which I load into my new laptop so that I can
practise playing on my own at home. Also, Lindsay is quite interested in
learning. I run the programme but it fails for most peculiars reasons. The
programme is very old and, in discussion with Graeme later, we decide that
because the hard drive on the computer is so large the programme can’t find
the ‘end’ and is looping back on itself. In the days the programme was written
no one thought of 80 gigabyte hard drives.
I can’t get hold of the person repairing the UPS. As so often is the answer here,
he’s out but will be back in an hour. Of course, an hour later he’s not, nor an
hour after that. I never do get hold of him and decide it will have to wait until I
next go to St. John’s.
Alexis appears and says the Marine Guide has been released from Customs
and will be with us in forty five minutes. Since the total weight is getting on for
half a ton all in boxes of a hundred there is a lot to unload. I organise with Ray
to store the majority in a room downstairs and we start by loading my car and
Alexis’s so that we can begin some immediate deliveries. To unasked helpers

turn up to unload the boxes and then hang around afterwards to be paid. We
could have done it without them but I give them EC$20 each anyway.
As soon as the Guide is stored away we set off to deliver copies to the
distribution points and advertisers in the English Harbour and Falmouth areas.
Initially, we go in Alexis’s pick-up and then collect my car which has about a
dozen boxes in the back. When I get in the smell of printing ink is
overpowering. We finish the deliveries by about four. Although I have been
aware the Guide is popular and well respected I don’t I realised quite how much
until we did the deliveries. Almost everyone asked why it was late and said they
had been waiting for it to arrive. We blamed the hurricane in Miami which may
or may not have been the cause. The quality is definitely up and several people
comment on its increased weight. We have added twelve pages.
Just as I am returning to the office, Stan rings. He wants to see me on the site
of the Marine Expo with my tape measure. I tell him I will be ten minutes.
When he arrives he tells me Hugh Bailey, the owner of the land where we are to
hold the exhibition, wants us move the site of the Expo. With the tape measure,
Stan and I try to work out what we can do and decide we can rotate it by 90*,
just. I go back to the office and try to rework the plans. It’s not as easy as it
seemed on the ground. We will have to think again
We get our first complaint. Mike Briggs of Calabash greets us with a copy in
hand. He had asked for a top right hand page position. Somehow he has
ended up on the bottom left page. I know what has occurred. We were
reworking the pages almost on a daily basis and his request was forgotten. I
acknowledge our error and tell him we will work something out and ask him for
a suggestion which I say, unless it’s totally outrageous, I will agree to. I have
some thoughts but will wait to see what he has to say.
HQ2, a restaurant, is having it’s opening night and Lindsay says she wants to
eat out so we decide to go there. It’s very busy and we haven’t booked but, as
we know the owners they agree to squeeze us in. It’s probably a mistake as it
takes ages to get served.
Apart from the arrival of the Marine Guide, nothing seems to have gone right
today. If it was Friday 13 th I could become superstitious.
Day 203 – Saturday. I have agreed to meet Alexis at nine in a nearby car park
from where we will go to Jolly Harbour to deliver more of the Guides. We take
my car as I have loaded it with more boxes. The smell is still awful particularly
with the boxes having been in overnight. We debate which route to take to Jolly
Harbour, the shorter, scenic but very poor road or the longer, better road via St.
John’s. We opt for the scenic route. It’s about a month since I have driven
along this route and it has been transformed. Some of it has been tarmaced
and what hasn’t, has been smoothed and, evidently, will be tarmaced. The

Government has eventually woken up to the fact that one of the most important
roads on the island needed upgrading.
We get a similar reaction to the Guide in Jolly Harbour. Everyone seems
pleased to see it and the Customs Officer comment that he has had enquiries
for the new one and has wondered why it hadn’t arrived. He gets the standard
answer. Whilst we are there Alexis wants to have a look at a traditional forty
foot fishing boat which is being built in the harbour. It’s worth a look and the
concept and craftsmanship is interesting but what really grabs my attention is a
most unusual sixty foot racing yacht which appears to have been abandoned. It
has a massive four spreader rig with jumper set, runners, check stays and a
strange, central, twin wheel steering position. It looks as though it should be an
old twelve metre (a rule not a length) but I don’t think it is. As it’s registered in
Illinois I suspect it’s an unknown American make. Although probably not very
competitive these days, if I had a crew I could be tempted to make some
enquiries. It is a startling and dramatic looking boat and I would love to see it
on the water. I must remember to keep my camera in the car as I am sure
many of my sailing friends in the U.K. would mind seeing what it looks like.
I drop Alexis off at his pickup and, as Lindsay is supposed to be walking the
dogs to Calabash where she left her car last night, I don’t expect her to be at
home yet so I go hunting for the house we have seen advertised but can’t
contact the agent. Eventually, I see it on a hillside and think it is one we looked
at a few months ago and rejected. I also see a plot we looked at a month ago
has been cleared. I walk over it to check the views. Not too bad but we have
been spoiled by other views so I file it away as a possible.
Driving home, Lindsay rings. She still hasn’t left with the dogs and asks if I am
coming home so I can give her a lift. I show her the house from a distance
which is just visible about a mile away over the top of a tall bed of reeds. I open
the sun roof so Lindsay can stand up through it to get a better view. She says
it’s not the house we looked at previously as she can see that as well. We drive
around to where it is. The approach is not great and the last part of the road,
rather rough. The house is well below the road and we can see it is empty. On
closer inspection, it seems very overgrown. We park in the drive and wander
around the house. Obviously, it has been empty for quite a long time. It is not
an unattractive house and has lots of potential and the views are good. If it was
not for the location I would be very tempted. As it is, if it can be bought cheaply
enough it might be worth buying, renovating and selling on. Of course, that all
depends on whether we can get hold of the agent.
We arrive at Calabash to collect Lindsay car and stop for a drink. As they keep
Youngs Special I have a bottle and Lindsay a fruit punch. The dogs are
admired as usual and are very well behaved unlike most dogs which come to
Calabash.

Having taken all the blunt tools from the Tot Keep Fit class I sit on the front
doorstep to sharpen them. It’s the only place I can do it as my grinder is 240
volt and the front doorstep is the nearest point to the transformer. It’s very hot
in the sun and out of the breeze and I am soon perspiring profusely.
The last few days have been particularly tiring so I feel a siesta is in order but
no sooner have my eyes closed than Lindsay’s ‘phone rings. It’s Moya. Their
electricity is off and she is catering for the Tot Club this evening. Apparently her
gas oven doesn’t work without electricity. She has done two large cottage pies
which need cooking. She asks if she can bring them around. Since we live
about three miles away, I am surprised there is no one nearer. Moya arrives
about half an hour later and we cook the two pies taking them, steaming, back
to Tony and Moya’s at six. It’s quite a social evening and when I suggest it’s
time to leave Lindsay is no so keen but I need my bed. It’s not long before
Lindsay has crashed out on the couch. Maybe my timing was right after all.
Day 204 – Sunday. Keep Fit meets at the Galley Bar at ten. Today we are
doing the top part of the trail down to the dam. Last week we cleared it from the
bottom up to the dam. There is quite a party of us, about a dozen. Various
tools are shared out and I have my weedwhacker. There are some tools which
Terry has brought which haven’t been sharpened. I note a look of annoyance
on Lindsay’s face when she realises everyone has taken sharp tools and she is
left with a blunt one.
There is quite a lot of work for the weedwhacker at the beginning of the trail but
once we get into the overhanging trees the undergrowth peters out so I continue
down the trail looking for areas I can cut. After about half a mile I lose sight of
the trail and put down the weedwhacker and scout around for the trail markings,
white blobs of paint on trees and rocks. Despite searching some distance from
where the trail disappeared, I can find no markings. I start back towards where I
left the weedwhacker and realise it’s not that obvious. It’s definitely up hill so I
work my way up, traversing back and forth as I go. After a few minutes I find
my weedwhacker and, this time carrying it, head off in another direction. I find
the white paint markings quite easily. After about another quarter of a mile I
come across a large cactus which has fallen over the trail. Beyond it there is,
again, no sign of the trail. After a few minutes search I give up and head back.
A few hundred yards past the point where I lost the trail the first time I come
across two others and ask if the trail divides anywhere because I have walked
far further than the distance I have been told it is to the dam. They say the dam
is nearby so I turn around and try again. This time, past the fallen cactus, I do
find the trail and head down it expecting, at any moment, to find around the next
corner, the dam. It never appears. When I hear a car I begin to wonder
whether this another trail that bypasses the dam and arrives at a road. Time is
getting on so I turn around and head back. About half a mile up the trail I come
across the other two and tell them I can’t find the dam. They press on. A few
hundred yards further on I come across another couple and relate my

experiences. They press on for a bit but obviously turn around since I see them
on the trail behind.
Somewhat further on I see Connie and walk to join her. Lindsay appears and I
tell her I have been all the way down the trail but can’t find the dam. She is
somewhat puzzled as I am now higher up the trail than her but I haven’t passed
her on the way back. It then occurs to me that the trail divided about one
hundred yards behind me and the real trail to the dam went to the right and I
went to the left as did, quite independently, four others. It’s now around twelve,
the time we usually give up, so Lindsay, Connie and I set off for the cars,
picking up Philip on the way. I can’t get into my car as I gave Terry the keys
when he wanted to get some more tools. We wait at the cars for about ten
minutes and I decide to go off in search of the others, thinking they may believe
we are ahead of them and be continuing down. I come across some else who
has wandered off on another trail which brought her around in a complete circle.
She hasn’t seen anyone. Further down I meet Terry and the remainder of the
party. Terry tells me that the trail I had gone down was the old, longer one to
the dam which hasn’t been in use for some.
After Keep Fit there is always a free drink on the Tot Club. Having become
detached from Lindsay who was carrying the water in a back pack, I feel
somewhat dehydrated and can’t face a beer. Two Cokes go down very well.
We are both starving so have lunch at the Galley Bar then back home where I
foolishly think I might have brief siesta while Lindsay cuts the grass. Every time
I doze off Sunny comes up and licks my face. If I turn away from her, she
jumps all over me. I give up and read instead. Lindsay is cutting the grass with
the weedwhacker when Sandy appears and says he was going to get one of his
men to cut it with his rotary mower, except it’s broken. Seems like most things
Sandy owns are broken.
I bought a piece of local pork which I put in the oven before we go out and it
already smell delicious. When we get back, it is.
Day 205 – Monday. Alexis is supposed to meet me at the office at eight thirty. I
get in early to try to clear my e-mails before he arrives. He turns up at quarter
past nine. We have to deliver the Guide to various places in St. John’s and
make two lists to divide the work, however, we need to deliver twenty one boxes
to the Ministry of Tourism so, after having loaded the cars, we meet there. The
offices are on the first floor and there is no lift. Alexis has brought a trolley
which makes life easier although someone else delivering also by trolley
bounces it up step by step whilst carry ours, four boxes at a time.
I am dealing with the business on the outskirts of St John’s and the airport. This
suits me as I can check on my UPS. It’s irreparable. I go back to the original
supplier who says it’s the fault of the electricity supplier whose surges have
caused the problem. I thought a UPS was designed precisely to overcome
such problems. In the U.K. I would never have accepted such an explanation

ut here I have little choice. They offer me twelve percent discount on a new
one.
Having missed a few people around Jolly Harbour so I decide to drive back that
route but still have difficulty in find the road from St. John’s. I do know one way
but it’s a lot longer than the short routes I know exist but can never find. The
other day I discovered one only to find out they had closed the road to excavate
something.
Jolly harbour takes me longer than I expect and, having bought lunch for both
Lindsay and myself, it’s quite late when I get back. Lindsay has gone home but
reappears a bit later, probably having had lunch. She still eats most of what I
have bought.
An e-mail from Neil Angel in the U.K. contains a couple
of photographs. He has been on a sailing holiday with
Tina and Mike in Croatia. It appears to have rained
constantly. One photo is of Teddy. He’s becoming a
well travelled bear. Another e-mail is from John Burton
who reports that Nicki is now partway across the Atlantic
on an Oyster. I reply that I have just heard of an Oyster
which has lost its mast near the Cape Verde Islands. Also, Rob and Amanda
have reported they have called into the Cape Verde’s due to bad weather.
From what they say, I suspect they may be spending a little more time in the
Caribbean than they intended.
The owners want to have a meeting of all the tenants of the building. It’s set for
four o’clock. I am supposed to meet Callie and Tracy at twenty to five. The
meeting is to organise a launch party. I haven’t really got time to get involved in
this sort of thing and tell them I will agree to whatever they want and leave. I
arrive at my meeting with Callie and Tracy but they are not there. Slightly
irritably I ring and find they haven’t left yet. I have a few things to do at the
yacht club so I use the time to go there. I am held up by the manager so
now I am late.
Back home one of the dogs has chewed the book Lindsay is reading. This the
second one. The other day they completely destroyed a book that belonged to
Lindsay. It was not my kind of reading material so I didn’t mind too much. This
time it is one of my books. One of them also chewed the fly swat which I use to
give them a little whack when they are naughty. This doggy is revenge.
Day 206 – Tuesday. In the early hours of the morning I wake up. I am cold.
We have taken to sleeping with a top sheet but it’s not enough. Only yesterday,
I saw some duvets for sale in a shop. I didn’t think there would be much of a
market for them. I now know there is. I remember having difficulty in
persuading Lindsay we needed to bring one with us. I bet I can’t find where it’s
buried.

I need to take my car for service in St. John’s. It’s sort of booked in. I went to
the garage yesterday and asked when I could book it in and was told tomorrow
(today). I have various other things to do so I go to the office first. On the way
my ‘phone rings. It’s my message service. I have fourteen unheard messages
going back more than two weeks. Most are irrelevant but one is quite amusing.
It’s from Sandy and it’s on the day we left from Guadeloupe. Ursula had let her
bag be taken by a taxi driver and Sandy wanted to know if had been recovered
and if we had it on board. Unfortunately, he only got my message service.
About half a dozen times through the message he would state “Women are
brainless!” with considerable feeling. Unfortunately, he shot himself in the foot
because after he finished the call he forgot to turn off his ‘phone and I could
hear him muttering “Women are brainless” accompanied by a few expletives. It
was about five minutes before his ‘phone cut off.
Dealing with my e-mails I am able to reassure John Burton that the Oyster Nicki
is on is not the one which lost it’s mast.
I leave for St. John’s later than I expect and, since I am going that way, decide
to detour to a couple of shops which sell timber to see if the prices we are
paying for the Marine Expo are competitive. The intended suppliers premises
are like an Aladdin’s cave and obviously very popular but their prices are less
than two percent lower than someone much nearer to us and, therefore, more
convenient. Reluctantly, I buy another UPS with a twelve percent discount. I
think I am going to wire the old one in series with the new one so the old one
can take all the punishment of the APUA electrical surges.
After the bank I call at the garage to get my car serviced. All the service bays
are full and I am asked if I can leave the car until after lunch. I can’t get back to
English harbour nor can I afford to hang around so I say I will bring it back
tomorrow and leave it all morning.
Driving back and Callie rings. I am partway through the call when Stan rings. I
ask Callie to hold while I speak to Stan and then return to Callie. I bought my
first mobile (fixed in the car) ‘phone in 1979 and, unbelievably, this is the first
time I have ever put someone on hold in order to take another call. Maybe I am
more popular in Antigua than I was in the U.K., more probably it’s just that there
are fewer people to talk to he plus everyone uses mobiles rather than land lines.
I arrive outside the office and the ‘phone rings again. It’s Lindsay. She tells me
she’s in the office. I already know as I can see her car. She tells me not to
bother buying lunch as she has brought some from home. Too late. I bought
some from a bakery in town.
Not having heard from the girl whose house is for sale I try ringing again. She
answers. She had received my message but hadn’t got around to ringing
me. Some people astound me. Apparently her agent has ‘gone of island’

and left the office unattended. Even more astounding. We discuss viewing
the house. She lives in St. John’s and, since she has to drive down here, we
agree that she will pick me up at the garage and I will come back with her to
Falmouth. I tell Lindsay that she can meet me at the house.
For a change my afternoon is quite quiet. Only about half a dozen e-mails,
about the same number of telephone calls and one brief visit from Callie. is it
the calm before the storm?
There’s an anti-bureaucratic procedures meeting this evening and it had been
my intention to go but by the time I have finished trying to drum up volunteers
for the Marine Expo it’s a bit late and I can’t really be bothered.
Day 207 – Wednesday. I am meeting this girl who is going to show us the
house at nine thirty outside the garage so I try to clear things from my desk
before I leave. As always, it takes longer than one expects and I leave the
office at nine. I get stuck behind a neighbour, female, who is yet to discover
what the accelerator pedal does. Eventually, I manage to overtake her and
arrive at the garage just as the nine thirty news comes on. I needn’t have
bothered. Fifteen minutes later I am still sitting there. I am just about to ‘phone
when she arrives. We drop off my car and set off back to English Harbour. I
am quite impressed by her car. It’s a Toyota and I notice it has done three
times the mileage of mine but doesn’t rattle at all. Perhaps I should have gone
for the Toyota after all.
She drives back on a route I have never been along. It does seem shorter but,
trying to make conversation, it’s difficult to judge. As we turn into the road
where the house is, Lindsay pulls in ahead of us. Timing is perfect except that
Lindsay goes beyond the house in order to reverse down the drive. The girl is
horrified that anyone should consider reversing and I am inclined to agree with
her.
I have brought a pad and measuring equipment with me as the agents details
here give no information whatsoever. I start drawing rough, measured
diagrams. The girl can see we are going to be a long time and leaves us,
showing us how to lock the house. There is no doubt it is a nice house with
enormous potential and could be very nice. I am really struggling to come to
terms with the locality. Move the house and I would buy it like a shot despite
the amount of work which needs doing. Even the views are good but I am not
convinced that the neighbourhood is that good and when the nearby chicken
farm sounds as though a fox has got into the shed it just about tops it.
Unfortunately, Lindsay is at the stage when almost anything will do and I feel I
must try to be objective. Back in the office we list the pluses and minuses.
Very quickly the minuses exceed the pluses but it doesn’t deter Lindsay even
when I say that it won’t be worth what it will cost us if we do it up. I think she
just wants to be settled. I am inclined to agree except that everyone says just
be patient and the right thing will turn up.

At the office I unpack the new UPS and plug it in. Within a few seconds it starts
shrieking at me and a light tells me the battery needs replacing. It’s faulty. I
telephone the shop and they tell me to return it.
I have to collect my car after lunch and Lindsay drives me back to St. John’s. I
try to find this short cut but get it wrong, twice but at least we find out where a
road goes which we have wondered about for some time. My car is waiting for
me and I go to pay the bill. Lindsay has to wait for me as the UPS is in the back
of her car. As I walk back she asks why I am smiling. The owner of the garage
who is about as dry as a dead stick and even less communicative has played a
practical joke on me which not only took me by surprise but also took me a few
moments to understand. The bill was EC$404.50 and I gave him four one
hundred dollar notes. As I was sorting out some change I could hear him
counting – one, two, three, four, five, leading me to believe I had given him five
one hundred dollar notes. I was on the point of asking for one back when I
realised what he was doing. Later, I thought that maybe I had achieved some
sort of acceptance if he thought he could play that kind of joke on me.
I advise Lindsay of the turning from the St. John’s end for the short cut but, as I
am going into town with the new, failed, UPS I hope she will find the route.
Without argument, the UPS is changed.
Despite it being a bit off route, I decide to try the short cut and manage to get to
the office before Lindsay but only because she has gone home to collect the
dogs. She had taken the short cut and, reluctant as I am to admit it, it does
come out at the point she thought it might. The good news is that the new UPS
works.
Tracy rings and asks if she and Callie can come and see me. I don’t think I
have the patience for them and suggest tomorrow will be better.
In the evening I try to draw plans of the house but, somehow, the measurement
don’t quite tie up. I’ll need to re-measure if we take it any further
Day 208 – Thursday. Not happy with the company’s accountant we have
decided to check out Price Waterhouse. We are told that they are the most
expensive on the island but sometimes expensive is cheap if they are efficient.
We have an appointment at ten. There offices are in the same building as the
British High Commission which is fairly imposing. I can see why their fees
might be higher than others, however, this inside is not so great although
everyone apologises. They have the decorators in. The lady we see seems
nice enough and we give her enough information for her to work out an
approximate annual charge. She gives a sheaf of forms on which ninety
percent of the questions are irrelevant. I won’t bother to fill it in until I see the
quote and only then if it appears reasonable.

I have put on a long sleeve shirt and a tie to see the accountant and it is very
obvious that you are dealt with quite differently if you are smart. I have had a
quote for some timber for the Marine Expo and I go into the shop to confirm the
order and ask for a discount. Whilst I was treated with courtesy the first time,
there was a noticeable difference when I came in smartly dressed.
As the next few days are going to be particularly hectic I doubt I will have much
time to add to my jottings. Most of today is taken up by last minute details being
sorted in respect of the Expo many of them requiring the co-operation of two or
more people which quadruples the amount of time it takes.
I write a long e-mail to the owner of the house, more or less condemning it. In
my opinion, it need US$100,000 to US$150,000 spending bon it and I am not
overly keen on the locality. I put this in the e-mail and await her reaction.
The Tot is at Life which has just reopened for the season. Although I prefer
Calabash, Life is convenient as it’s almost opposite the office. I could walk the
two hundred yards but I usually drive on the grounds that I would have to walk
back to my car later. The fact that my car is parked nearly halfway between the
office and Life is largely irrelevant.
After Life (is there such a thing?) I am playing bridge at the yacht club. Last
week I realised how much I had forgotten. I’m not much better tonight. Lindsay
has declined to come as she can’t play. As soon as this show is over I must get
around to teaching her.
Day 209 – Friday. I am supposed to have the use of a truck at eight thirty. I
ring the driver and just get music. I ring his office and get an answerphone.
Eventually, I get hold of him at nine fifteen. He tells me he’s busy until after
lunch which means he is available after one o’clock. I tell him I will ring at one.
Callie appears. The broker dealing with the imported Expo goods is saying he
can’t clear them through Customs because there are no invoices. One
telephone call to the shippers tells us the invoices are with them and there is no
reason for the broker not to have cleared the goods. To be safe, we have
copies faxed to us and deliver them to the broker. He’s not there and his
‘phone is switched off all day. We think he has another reason for not being
avail to clear things through Customs and the invoice is just an excuse, not
even a good one as the invoices are with the shippers.
I ring the truck driver at one and say I will be with him in ten minutes. He says
fifteen and I turn up in twenty and he’s not there. Ten minutes later he arrives
and half an hour later we set off. The purpose of this truck is to pick up a load
of timber (or lumber as they call it here. Too many American words creeping
into the vocabulary) with which to build the bar in the Expo. Despite having
order everything in advance, it still takes an hour to load the truck and it would
have been a lot longer . We drive back to the house, my house, to unload the

timber since the only way these walls are going to get built is for me to construct
them. Embarrassingly, I only have EC$100 notes on me so I can’t or, rather,
am not prepared to give the driver a tip. I tell him to get one from his boss.
It’s nearly four by the time I get back to the office and there are a hundred and
one panics going on. I am getting to the end of my tether with Callie who
typifies making a crisis out of a drama or is it the other way ‘round. I lose my
patience with her and an e-mail comes in from Stan while Callie is making yet
another international call on my telephone. Stan’s e-mail is asking me my
opinion on Tracy’s claim for expenses. I had told Tracy some months ago that if
she wanted to be involved it was entirely voluntary. Stan gets a fairly abrasive
response in which I express my feelings towards Callie and Tracy and then add
a P.S. that I was getting things off my chest and P.P.S. that it’s for his eyes
only.
An e-mail reply from the owner of the house suggests she will take an offer at
the maximum I think it’s worth. A conundrum.
We are going to a charity dinner. Not only am I not feeling like going out I am
not feeling very charitable either. The evening turns out to be not too bad and I
get a dinner at a restaurant in a blind auction where I overbid the previous
bidder by some three hundred and fifty percent. I fail to get what I want in the
open auction because Lindsay tells me to shut up.
Day 210 – Saturday. I am not looking forward to today. All the timber is sitting
in the garden which has to be converted into walls for the bar in the Marine
Expo and there is no-one to do it except me. I start at eight and by ten I have
cut most of the timber to length. Lindsay’s circular saw has been a great help
except that the timber is two inches thick and the saw cuts to one point nine
inches. After a few cuts I think “What the hell, it only has to last a week.”
With one and a half panels built (out of nine) the ‘phone rings. It’s Callie. Who
did I not want to hear from when I am up to my ears in sawdust and seeing my
day stretching ahead of me in carpentry. I think Callie senses my mood and
does this stupid thing that Americans keep doing, thanking me for what I am
doing. I wouldn’t mind too much if there was a little sincerity in it. It’s a bit like
the way they always say ‘Have a nice day’ or ‘Missing you already’ yet have no
idea they are saying it or what it means.
It’s not helped when Tracy rings an hour later with some inane questions. They
probably aren’t inane but by then I am fairly hot and bothered and not really
concerned whether she wants some reassurance over something. I think I have
about three and a half panels done by now and need a rest.
I’ve not long been back at work when Stan rings. West Indies Oil now want the
two promotional girls they cancelled last week. What am I supposed to do
about it. I delegate it to Tracy.

I set myself targets. It takes ten minutes to build a panel if everything goes well,
usually fifteen and twenty when nothing works out. There is ten minutes
preparation between each panel plus a bit of rest time. Lindsay is talking about
lunch so I set myself a target to have six finished by lunch which means we end
with a late lunch at about one thirty. After lunch I have the strength to make one
more and retire for a siesta. Half an hour’s doze makes a world of difference. I
finish the remaining two in record time. The biggest problem with the panels is
that once they are built they are just too heavy for me to lift yet I have to move
them. There are other pieces of timber which I need to sort, their purpose too
complicated to explain but, by four, I have finished and collapse on the sofa.
I need to go to the Tot to organise my volunteers and, for the first time, I put on
my pink (ugh) Full Member’s shirt. I am not sure whether I am proud or
embarrassed. Graeme is supposed to be doing Rum Steward next week but
has rather doubled booked himself as a boat Marshal for the boat show. Two
rather lovely young girls have just joined the Tot Club and I suggest they may
like to do it instead. They are absolutely delighted.
Day 211 – Sunday. I can hardly move. None of my muscles want to work and
those that I force into action hurt like hell. Lindsay decides she is going for a
run. I am going to have a bit more sleep. Everything is amazingly quiet
outside. Lindsay reappears. The dogs have escaped. They have managed to
open one of the gates and gone off into the countryside. I rapidly dress and
rush outside and start downhill to search for them. I don’t hear Lindsay
whistling and calling but suddenly two small figures appear charging at full
speed from above. They have just taken themselves for a walk which saves me
the trouble. The only problem is I know how they managed to get out of the
gate. When I constructed it I put the bolt in upside down. By pressing on it they
have succeeded in opening it. My lie-in is out the window as I have to remove
the bolt and turn it the right way up.
Keep Fit is at ten and I am not feeling like going but don’t want to let the others
down. I arrive in the Dockyard where a large, somewhere approaching a
hundred foot, yacht is trying to berth. It has obviously been keeping people
entertained for a while and I sit there for twenty minutes watching them make a
complete hash of it amid lots of ribald comments from onlookers. There is quite
a crosswind and, later, Graeme tells me the yacht has a lifting keel but despite
this, I still think the skipper made the classic mistake in those circumstances,
being too cautious. A little more aggression would have saved him an awful lot
of the problems he generated for himself. Graeme wasn’t too unhappy. He
received a US$40 tip for his marshalling. Not bad for a volunteer.
Terry is too busy with the boat marshalling so I am designated to sort out the
tools. It makes me feel honest for a change as I always use the excuse to get
access to the Dockyard in my car that I am collecting tools. This is one of the
rare times it’s true.

Why is it when I am feeling knackered that the trails we clear are all uphill. I
keep asking for flat trails but there don’t seem to be any. My legs are giving out
before I am halfway to the top. There is relatively little clearing on the way up
and virtually no use for my weedwhacker which gets heavier by the yard. There
is quite a lot to do at the top and, as I have no tools apart from the
weedwhacker, I spend most of my time clearing debris. I tell Mike that we need
to introduce a new rule. All over-enthusiastic loppers should clear up their own
mess. Mike, being one of them, tells me he has no gloves therefore can’t clear
up. I respond by telling him that I will remember to forget my gloves next week.
There are two messages on my ‘phone. One from Lindsay asking me to go to
the supermarket the other from Tracy asking me to ring her. Philip, to whom I
am giving a lift, is most puzzled by how I manage to make ‘phone calls without
touching the ‘phone. He has never come across voice activation before.
We are supposed to be going to a party at two so, after a coke, I rush away.
Lindsay and I were going to look at the house again before Keep Fit but by the
time she was back from her run it was too late so we agreed we would go
before the party. I get home and relax on the sofa and only wake up at twenty
to three when Sunny gives me a face wash. After a shower, it’s straight to the
party. We have been asked to bring the dogs. As usual they are quite a hit
except with the other dogs. Nissan doesn’t realise that he is the smallest male
and it’s not his house. It’s quite amusing to see the pair of them gang up
together and support each other. They are running free and stick together the
whole time. Since we still haven’t seen this house again we leave not long after
four.
We spend another half an hour wandering around the outside of the house.
Having had so many mixed comments about the house and the area we arte
very confused. The other night, I think, Lindsay had turned against it as a result
of comments made. This afternoon she has been swayed the other way by
comments from people at the party. There is no doubt that the house is
excellent value for money and I tell Lindsay that it is only an element of
snobbery in me that’s preventing me from saying yes. The location is a bit
down market.
Very reluctantly, we go to the Tot. I need to round up my helpers for tomorrow.
Mike asks if I will test a new potential member. As I had leant my crib sheet to
this potential member a few days ago and only had my old sheet, somewhat
creased and worn, from 2000 and no glasses, this would be as much a test of
my knowledge as mine. She was not very good and, had it not been my first
test, I would have failed her. As it was I gave her the minimum pass mark and
suggested she did a bit more studying.
Back home Lindsay and I discuss the house. I ask her to give me a percentage
in favour or against. She says seventy five per cent in favour. I say I am only

forty five percent in favour. Lindsay reckons that since that adds up to one
hundred and fifteen out of two hundred, we ought to go for it. We’ll sleep on it
and tomorrow is another day.
Day 212 – Monday. I am due at the Marine Expo site at seven but don’t wake
up until six thirty five. I am four minutes late on site but still the first one there.
What is most surprising is that the area we marked off in the car park is free of
cars apart from two. We know the owner of one who comes and moves it within
a few minutes. The other is a rental car and we ring the company which says
they will contact the owner. That disappears an hour later. The police arrive on
time at seven thirty to ensure the car park is clear. They seem disappointed
when I tell them there is nothing to do and we don’t need them. They hang
around anyway. All three of them.
The marquee company are due at eight but no sign of them. Several people
have drifted along but there’s not much I can give them to do. The marquee is
supposed to erected in two hours and I have a bunch of volunteers arriving at
twelve. They start erecting the tent at eleven thirty and it takes a lot longer than
two hours. There is nothing for my twelve o’clock volunteers to do, mostly
ladies, so I suggest they come back at four.
Callie has come out in a rash which obviously irritates the upper part of her
thighs and she keeps scratching and I keep telling to explain to people why she
is scratching herself so vigorously in that area of her body. I do suggest to her
she refrains from doing it in public but my suggestion falls on deaf ears.
The tent still isn’t erected by four and most of the work is still heavy, physical. I
have to send them away again although Philip, eighty one, works like a Trojan
in sorting all the things that the marquee erecters are not doing. Another
volunteer, Frank Pearce, does Stirling work as well. Originally we were going to
put down a wooden floor but I cancelled on cost grounds. My solution is to
place 2 x 4 pieces of timber around the outside of the tent, nail them down with
six inch nails and seal them with mastic. I have a two pound club hammer but
would never have believed the effort it takes to hammer in the nails. Half of
them bend over.
Lindsay decided she was going to paint an eight by four mural depicting the
front cover of the Marine Guide. She started on Saturday thinking it would take
her two days, I think it will be nearer a week. The exhibition opens tomorrow
and there is very little paint on the canvas and what is there comprises large
areas of colour. The detail is yet to come.
Most of the things we have ordered have not arrived although at about six the
carpets do turn up but without the screen doors for the bar which are part of the
same delivery. Apparently, they are ‘lost’ in Customs. We can’t do anything
until the carpets are laid and I’m not starting on these tonight. Security is
supposed to turn up at six but there’s no sign of them. By about seven Frank

and I decide to go for a drink at Temo Sports, opposite. Security arrives at
twenty past eight and get an earful, mainly from Tracy who is somewhat upset
at having hung around for over two hours. I get home after nine and don’t eat
until ten which means I have had nothing to eat since six thirty this morning and
I’m dead tired.
Day 213 – Tuesday. Back on site at seven and by seven thirty there are
enough helpers to start laying the carpets. My main target today is to get the
bar erected but I can’t start until the carpet is laid in that area. It soon becomes
apparent that we have been delivered short on the carpet. I suspect it’s a
calculation error. When Callie ordered the carpet she spoke of it being eight
foot wide and that five eighty foot long strips would cover the floor. It would
appear the suppliers converted this to a square area which means the strips
aren’t long enough. We have to cut the last strip into pieces which are laid
crossways. It’s still short and we lay a piece of red carpet in the entrance.
Callie disappears to the doctor at eight thirty and reappears a couple of hours
later with the information that she has had an allergic reaction to penicillin. It
strikes me as a bit odd and I suspect it’s stress. Since the Americans are the
one’s who invented the word stress they probably suffer from it more than
anyone else.
Stan has sent one of his employees to help me with the bar. He’s a bright
young lad and a hard worker. Together we erect the bar in a couple of hours
although, having been told the sides of the tent are eight feet, everything is
designed around that height. They have erected it at seven feet so I have to
modify the walls where they meet the tent roof. When complete the bar is
surprisingly sturdy. The door material still hasn’t arrived so I have to be
inventive. I have acquired a ripped spinnaker which I intend to use as a ceiling
to the bar. I cut part of it up into the size of the doors, buy two lengths of chain
to weight the bottom and staple the spinnaker to the one side and the top of the
door frames. Not perfect, but they will do.
The electrician who is installing the air conditioning has an 8’ x 4’ sheet of three
quarter inch ply and wants a hole cut in it for the air conditioning unit. We have
no power nor any power tools so I ring Lindsay and ask her to bring down the
rotary saw and an adapter to connect to the local 220 volt power source. I track
down a power socket on the dockside but the adapter will not fit. It will fit the
110 volt so I give that a try. The saw runs at half speed and just about cuts
through the wood. We use the piece cut out as a shelf and the whole thing
goes together with considerable ease.
As a result of where the air conditioning unit is positioned there is a large gap in
the side of the tent. The only solution is another piece of plywood but it needs
to be 2’ x 7’. I drive five miles to the nearest timber merchant and ask them to
cut me piece of ply. I think the man on the saw must have been on overtime as

he takes about half an hour to cut it. I wished I had never asked and done it
myself.
Every time I use the car to get something I forget I have a large screen T.V. in
the back which was put there last night for security. As it’s just standing in the
back I have to drive slowly, avoiding the pot holes which adds to all my journey
times.
Back at the marquee we have come across a major problem. As the sides of
the tent are seven foot and it comes in three sections with seven foot valleys at
a third and two thirds of the way down the tent, we cannot fit the stand dividers
under the edge of the roof. The stand dividers are eight foot and are supplied
by the people who supplied and erected the marquee. There is no way of
modifying the dividers so we have to do a rapid redesign of the layout. The
exhibitors are supposed to be coming in from midday but none has turned up
which is just as well as we are not ready. The first arrives at three. By six we
have fewer than half the exhibitors but APUA have still not connected the
electricity so we are working in near pitch dark. Also Cable & Wireless have not
fitted the wireless internet connection and the caterers who are supposed to set
up the bar and originally said they would arrive at three, then five, then six and
by eight say they are coming tomorrow. Still no power despite APUA saying the
men have been on site since six thirty. I don’t know which site they are on but
it’s not this one. By eight thirty, I give up and go home. At least security arrived
on time.
Day 214 – Wednesday. A seven o’clock start again to open up. Apart from
security and Tracy no one else appears. Callie is in hospital. Does seem a bit
excessive for a rash. I had a very similar rash when I was clearing the drainage
ditch during the heavy rain storms. I can’t say I considered going to the doctor
let alone the hospital.
The caterers turn up much our relief. The way people have a habit of agreeing
to do something and then not appearing has had us worried.
Some more of the exhibitors start to drift in and set up their stands. The only
remaining thing to fit is the roof to the bar which comprises the remains of the
spinnaker. It just fits but Tracy’s not convinced as, being pink, it gives the bar a
rosy hue and she thinks it’s a bit like a boudoir. Having got it up I am not taking
it down.
Still no electricity nor wireless internet connection. Numerous calls to APUA
and pressure applied through the Ministry of Tourism eventually produces a van
and four men who connect up the power and it starts to rain. The forecast has
been for a 30% chance of rain for every day since Sunday. Well, the forecast is
wrong. It’s been 100% chance of rain every day so far and the tent leaks. It
has a stupid guttering system which is too short. The gutters are in the valleys
between the sections and not only do the sag in the middle when the fill with

water but also, when the water does flow out of the ends it flows into the tent
rather than outside. We call the supplier back in and they make some
modifications which are only partially successful.
Having a stand of our own which I have been unable to even set up let alone
use, I spend a little time trying to sort it out. Both my laptops log onto a wireless
internet connection which appears to be free but is not Cable & Wireless. I am
the only person who has an internet connection so everyone wants to use my
equipment. The main problem appears to be that most people don’t seem to
know how to log on wirelessly. I end sorting out several computers with
connections but it doesn’t stop others coming to use my computers for internet
access. We are, in effect, the internet café of the Marine Expo. It becomes a bit
irritating as, often, I can’t get to use my own computers.
Despite everything being up and running there still seem to be one hundred and
one problems and no real help. Only Frank is consistently available and he
really has nothing to do with the ABMA or ACYM. I don’t know what I would do
without him and I fire off an e-mail to Stan expressing my disgust at the lack of
support from the ABMA.
Two artists are supposed to be displaying some paintings in the bar on Sunday
and one of them comes to have a look. She is not happy with the hanging
arrangements. She says she will come back with her colleague later but
suggests I make some modifications to the bar to suit them. Since they are not
paying anything I find her demands a bit irritating but say I will see what I can
do. She says she will return on Friday to see how things look then.
The day ends with a fashion show which does bring in the crowds. Crowds is
probably a bit of an exaggeration but the fashion show is quite good and
entertaining particularly on of the men who looks like and has the mannerisms
of someone, Frostie, who I used to know in Brighton. By the time we have
closed up I am not home before ten.
Day 215 – Thursday. It’s another seven o’clock start but at least today we will
be closing at five. One of the stand holders who didn’t appear yesterday has
turned up and does nothing but complain. They had the choice of booths since
they were one of the first to book and now they don’t like their choice. I can see
this woman is going to be a complete pain and she proves to be exactly that.
Lindsay finished the painting yesterday so I have taken it down to the Expo. It
just fits in my car. The problem is that it is rather large for the stand and my
stand becomes the ‘internet café’ again and Cable & Wireless still haven’t
produced the connection. Eventually they turn up at twelve and ask if I have an
internet connection. I tell them I have but not theirs.
I spend most of the day much as the previous few days, running around sorting
out problems and to write about it would be a repetition of the past couple of

days although much of the details has been left out mainly because I can’t
remember everything that has happened.
The artists are back and I haven’t made any modifications which is just as well
since they want even more and also want the caterers to move out of the bar
area whilst they have their show. My patience with them is wearing a bit thin
and I think it shows. They suggest cancelling their show which, to me, would be
a damned good thing. As they have sent out invitations they are reluctant to
cancel. They suggest building new walls and various other things but they are
not sure who would pay for it. I assure them it won’t be us. When it looks as
though we have come to an impasse I have an idea which they agree to and it
will cost nothing.
The Expo is closing early because the main cocktail party of the week. The
cocktail party starts at six and as I haven’t been to the Tot all week I think I
might go. I ring Terry and ask where it’s being held. He says it’s at the U.S. air
base. Apart from the fact that I don’t really want to go there again it’s too far
away so Lindsay and I go for a drink in the Admiral’s Inn then wander down to
the party at the Copper & Lumber. It’s packed and we know a lot of people
there. The speeches start after about an hour and go on and on. We have
moved outside as it’s cooler and are at the far end of the enclosed area when I
hear my name called over the loud speaker in the middle of someone’s speech.
They want me to come forward but, fortunately, I am so far away they will be on
the speech by the time I get there, actually, probably not since they all seem to
like the sound of their own voices. I stay where I am.
We run into Tim Wall and I go to speak to him. I suspect he thinks I want to talk
to him about land but I don’t. Tim is Chairman of the Mega yacht Challenge and
wants to retire. Graeme has suggested I take over and I want to tell Tim that I
am prepared to assist next year but wouldn’t take over without having worked at
it for a year. Tim and his wife Nora have arranged to go to Trappas for dinner
and ask us to join them. It makes for a very late night.
Day 216 – Friday. I think I can be forgiven for not being first on site. I am
running about fifteen minutes late but as I approach Falmouth Tracy pulls out of
a side road in front of me. Since she takes longer to park than me I am still first
there. Lindsay comes and takes over from me so I can have a couple of hours
off.
I go home for lunch, a shower, a ten minute siesta and a change of clothes. For
the first time in nearly a week I am able to sit down and try to catch up with a
whole variety of jobs including paying my U.K. credit cards on-line.
We have had to cordon off more of the car park for the Taste of Antigua night
which is not making us popular with all those who want to park nor with the taxi
drivers who now can’t turn around. A few people ignore the cones and we have

to call in the police. It’s strange that we have no actual authority to do what we
are doing yet we can get the police to back us up.
Lindsay relieves me for a couple of hours in the middle of the day and I go back
home for a shower and a change and then back to the grindstone. The
evening’s entertainment, a taste of Antigua, is supposed to be a collection of
local caterers selling their wares outside together with a local distillery providing
rum punch, a steel band and a dance troupe. Two of the caterers cancel at the
last minute and the rum punch doesn’t appear. As an entertainment it’s
reasonably successful but as a draw into the Expo it seems pretty useless.
Suddenly the Expo begins to fill up, quite rapidly. I realise why. It’s raining.
I am about to go home after closing up when one of the street vendors grabs
Frank. Her pick-up has broken down and she asks Frank if he can drive her
and all her bits and pieces back home. Frank left his car on the other side of
the harbour so I am volunteered. I realise it’s the lady who sold me a large
avocado for EC$7 which I though a bit expensive and I remind her. Frank and I
load the car and drive to her house. One of her sons meets us, helps us unload
the car and gives me two large avocados. Frank and I go for a quick drink
before I head off home for another late dinner, after ten again.
Day 217 – Saturday. I know Tracy is going to be late. As usual I am the only
person on site at seven and, in fact nobody from the ABMA turns up before ten
and Tracy not until half eleven. At about ten one of the exhibitors comes to me
with a complaint. One of the other exhibitors had borrowed a key to their locked
cabinet and the key has gone missing. Apparently the arrangement was to tape
the key to the underside of the table next to the cabinet. A rather stupid
arrangement. The other stall holder is claiming she did this but that she was
suspicious of a security guard who had watched her doing it. My guess is that
the key dropped onto the floor and was swept up by the cleaner. I shake the
cabinet and there is evidently still things in it. Both stall holders want to call the
police.
Before I have a chance to sort the problem another stall holder appears and
claims his equipment has been stolen. He has one of those electric gyroscopic
?bicycles? you stand on. When I closed up I don’t remember it being on his
stand and I ask him what time he brought it back to the stand. He says ten
o’clock. That would have been impossible as everything was closed by then.
The police arrive for the first incident and I tell them they are wasting their time.
They want the security company to come down and sort out the second
incident. By the time the senior guard arrives the police have gone. The guard
is adamant that the ‘bicycle’ was not on the stand and I am inclined to agree
with him. The exhibitor is a loud American who just shouts louder as though
noise proves his case. Personally, I think he left it somewhere, he seems to
drink a lot, forgot about it and wants to claim on the Expo. I also notice that the
value has gone up since yesterday. Whilst this is occurring the dockyard
security tell us the machine was found last night and they have secured it in

their office. I tell the security guard to go home and leave me to deal with the
problem. I decide the best thing to do is nothing and let the exhibitor approach
me if he wishes to take it further. He doesn’t come near me all day.
The row over the missing key is rumbling on so I offer to open the cabinet to
prove nothing has been stolen. They agree and I prise the door open with a
claw hammer. As I suspected all the contents are still inside. It’s amazing how
everyone wanted to blame security and divert the blame from themselves,
probably because security are least able to defend themselves.
I am having lunch with Graeme, Bill Dunn (generally recognised even by himself
as one of the nice Americans) and Robbie and Des, neighbours of ours when
we lived in Brighton and who arrived yesterday. We are going to Catherine’s,
an expensive but good restaurant where we have pre-ordered five steak tartars.
They are the best anywhere in the world. We take a couple of hours over lunch
and then I have to leave. As I am chatting to other friends on my way out of the
restaurant someone waves to me. He looks familiar but I can’t place him. As I
walk away he gets up and I recognise him. He’s Caspar but he’s put on a lot of
weight which I announce in a loud voice much to the amusement of the crew of
the boat he is with. I ask him to bear his backside to prove who he is. As
Anouska will remember from Antigua Sailing Week, he has a tattoo of Caspar
the Friendly Ghost on his left cheek.
On my way home to change Lindsay rings. Alex has sent her a text message.
She is in trouble. I try to ring her but can’t get through. I stop on the top of a hill
so as not to lose reception and try ringing Gay but get a wrong number so I try
my parents. My mother tells me Alex has been stopped for drink driving. She
also confirms Gay’s number and I ring her to say I have been trying to contact
Alex. I think Alex must be drowning her sorrows. As I sit on the top of the hill
my engine cuts out. I know I am short of petrol and presume I have run out. I
just hope it’s the angle of the hill. I roll the car down the hill and the engine
starts.
Terry had asked me if he could borrow my weedwhacker. I can’t find the key to
the store. Lindsay was the last one to go into it and she can’t remember where
she put it. I am now running well behind schedule and still need to get petrol. I
know Slipway closes at four and I rush down to fill up. They turn away the
person who comes in behind me.
Lindsay has mislaid another key. She rings me and asks if I know where the
key is to the generator room. Since she was the last one to have it, I have no
idea.
There is a party in the marquee starting at six. The organisers have brought
two bands and there’s hardly any room to fit them in. I am running a small
auction of only three items to raise money for A.B.S.A.R., Antigua’s equivalent
of the R.N.L.I.. The main item is an expensive watch for which we have

eceived some pre-auction bids but under the reserve. I set up Graeme and
someone else to give me bids under the reserve in case things are a bit slow.
As it happens, it proves unnecessary and the watch sells for two hundred U.S.
dollars over the reserve. Unfortunately, it’s the loud American who buys it
which means I will have to be nice to him.
We leave the Expo at about eight to go to Fincham’s Follies. A very amateur
production which is put on each year to raise funds for charity. This year’s
theme is James Bond and the backdrop has scenes painted on it including
phrases such as “Antigua is not enough” and “Antigua never dries”. The fact
that it’s so appalling makes it hilarious. I leave at ten to check on the shutting
up of the Expo and security have closed down everything which means I just
have to do a quick tour and go back to the Follies. By about eleven thirty with
the Follies coming to an end I need to get some sleep and Lindsay is having
difficulty on focusing on her drink without spilling it.
Day 218 – Sunday. These seven o’clock starts are getting more and more
difficult. Lindsay is coming with me as she left her car in Falmouth last night as
she was in no condition to drive. We bring the dogs so Lindsay can take them
for a walk on Pigeon Beach. They return about an hour later and the dogs have
obviously been playing in the water. I’m glad they are going in Lindsay’s car.
Obviously everyone is running late on Sunday and it’s very quiet until around
eleven. The artists who are putting on the show this afternoon. We have
allowed them to use an unoccupied stand and I have moved some display
boards in for them. Not only do they want more boards but they are
encroaching on other stands plus they keep removing other exhibitors material
in order to display their paintings. Never again shall I agree to allow people free
space. They just take too much advantage.
The woman who lost the key to the cabinet has now lost her purse but, at least,
this time she’s not accusing security. She must be a bit dumb. She left it on
her desk during the party last night when there were anything up to a hundred
people milling around. I would imaging one per cent of any population is
dishonest enough to steal although she makes comments about Antigua.
Lindsay arrives at about half twelve to give me a break but I don’t get away until
after one. I get home and try to have a rest. I just about doze off and the
‘phone rings. I should have turned it off. I make myself some lunch and try
again to have a brief siesta. Again I have just about dozed off when a cold, wet
nose sticks itself in my face. I haven’t shut the bedroom door and although the
dogs are not allowed in the bedroom sometimes they forget. I give up and have
a shower and change before heading back.
The art exhibition is in full swing by the time I arrive. The two artists are
dressed as the girls from Absolutely Fabulous. Before remembering they had

intended to dress up I wondered who would have such an awful hair style. The
one playing Patsy has a massive blonde beehive wig and looks quite the part.
The bidder for the watch has come to collect it and I can’t get hold of the person
who has it in safe keeping. When I do get it the American has disappeared and
his voice mail is full and won’t accept any more messages.
The Expo is getting surprisingly busy as the afternoon draws to a close and
even more surprising, three exhibitors have indicated a willingness to come
back next year, one already completing a booking form. I can’t imagine why. I
wouldn’t have thought any of them have done enough business to make it
worthwhile.
We close at seven and drive down to the Dockyard where a party with a steel
band is supposed to be going on. It’s deadly quiet. We wander around the
boats and go for a drink (or three) in HQ’s. As we leave the steel band is
setting up over an hour late but exhaustion is taking over and I can’t be
bothered to wait around for another party.
Day 219 – Monday. I have almost lost track of which day is which and I think I
am not the only one as nobody is at the Expo at seven. In fact no one gets
there until eight thirty. The security guards offer to help remove everything
tomorrow in their own time which means we have to pay. I send an e-mail to all
those who should have helped during the week and should be helping tomorrow
saying if they care to bring me in a EC$100 each I will let them off helping.
Whether it will have any affect or not I don’t know.
Wandering around the outside with a cigar (we have a no smoking policy inside
which I sometimes ignore) I run into Caspar again. We agree to meet up
tonight for a drink and I promise to take him to the Tot tomorrow.
Something which surprised me quite a lot yesterday was the favourable
response to the Expo. We have exhibitors booking for next year, several of
whom hadn’t taken a stand this year. I can’t believe that people are impressed
by our fairly feeble efforts. Not that I am going to be involved next year but I will
have a lot of suggestions on how it might be improved.
I am getting responses to my e-mail, not in monetary terms but companies
offering to send staff and trucks. In a way, it’s a pity as I would have quite liked
to pay the guards to do it. Two telephone calls tell me firstly that next year they
will be putting the yacht show out to tender rather than having it run by the
ACYM. They think I might be interested. They have got to be joking. The
second is to say that they would like me to run the Superyacht Challenge. This
is a different event from the Mega yacht Challenge which has already been
discussed and it is a paid job. The Superyacht Challenge goes each year to
different venues around the world. Next year it comes to Antigua for the first
time. I need to know more before committing myself.

The boat show closes at three and the Expo at five. Things begin to wind down
in the marquee from about three and by five more than half the exhibitors have
cleared up and gone. By the time security arrive at six there is only one stand
remaining and bits from three others waiting to be collected. All the bits from
our stand are in the back of my car and we take to the office.
There is a really crass e-mail from Callie sent to everyone involved in the Expo.
She says how wonderfully successful it’s been and how marvellous everyone is,
etc.. It is lengthy and continues, repetitively, in the same theme. It makes me
cringe to read it but I can’t be bothered to reply. It has been a blessing in
disguise that she has been ill all week.
We go down to the bar below the office for a drink and order take-away pizzas
from the restaurant opposite.
Day 220 – Tuesday. I get up even earlier as I am still fuming over the e-mail
Callie sent yesterday. Before going to meet security at seven I go into the office
to reply. I tell Callie that her very effusive e-mail is rather ‘American’ in that it
did not recognise any failures and there were many and I request her not to
send any similar e-mails without consulting me. There is a lot more to my reply
mainly to do with how we carry thing forward. I copy it to all those to whom
Callie sent her e-mail.
I release security at seven giving them a EC$200 tip. No one else turns up until
after half eight and then only Tracy by which time I have cleared half the things
which need to be collected. One pick-up has arrived with two men and I set
about with them to shifting all the tables and display boards which have to go
into store. Stacking the store is like doing Rubik’s cube. The store is just too
small to get everything in easily. We realise when it’s half full that we aren’t
going to get the rest in. The only solution is to take everything out and start
again with a proper plan. By ten we are ready for the people to remove the
marquee but they say they won’t be available until half twelve. They arrive at
about one. In the meantime the two men with the pick-up have disappeared
and a different two with another pick-up have arrived. I set them off taking the
plants back to the nursery and all the timber to it’s various locations. They no
most of them as the collected some of the items for me when we set up. I show
them one other location where I want the walls to the bar stored (which were
more difficult to take down than erect, in the end, having removed all the
securing items, I pushed them over and pulled them apart on the ground). I
was able to leave these two guy to get on with it. Apparently, I have them all
day.
Lindsay appears to tell me Rob and Amanda are sailing past English Harbour
on their way to Jolly Harbour. Lindsay has explained that I am rather busy and
we will catch up with them later.

The two guys and the pick-up I have ‘all day’ has to go to St. John’s on a job at
three. They say they will be back. I tell them that since it will take them at least
two hours I will be gone by the time they return. I have told everyone that if
everything isn’t collected by four I am leaving it in the car park. All that’s left are
the carpets and two platforms belonging to National Parks which they have to
collect. Another pick up arrives and takes the carpets. At we are complete
(apart from the platforms) by four, just. As I am about to leave three more pickups
arrive. I comment on their perfect timing as there is nothing left to do.
I get home at about half four and have a sandwich. I had no lunch as I gave
mine to Byron (a one legged beggar) who I have told not to pester me for
money but he has been trying to help by clearing rubbish. He tells me he’s
hungry so I let him work and in return give him my sandwich and apple which
Lindsay had brought down.
After a shower it’s time to meet Caspar and his two friends. On my way I ring
and speak to Amanda and say we will arrange to meet up tomorrow.
Caspar and his friends meet us at the Tot and we stay for a few drinks. They
want to take us out to dinner and they elect to go to HQ’s. They have a hire car
and we arrive at the dockyard at the same time. Someone makes a comment
on air conditioning and Caspar says that it would be a really good idea if you
could start a car at a distance so it is cool when you arrive at it. I turn around
and ask “Like this?” There is a moments delay while the side lights flash on and
off and Caspar thinks I am unlocking the car and starts to say “No,..” when the
engine fires up. He curses that an idea he had has already been thought of.
HQ is closed and I suggest some alternatives. They decide they would like to
go to the Mad Mongoose. I am not in favour. Every time I have been to the
Mad Mongoose I have had bad service and not very good food and I have
bothered to go for several years. But they seem to want to go so we do.
Lindsay and I are first in and are told the restaurant is no longer serving food.
One of Caspar’s friends seems to know the proprietor and thinks he can
persuade him to serve us. Unfortunately, it’s a situation where everyone knows
the proprietor but you only really get service if the proprietor knows you. The
proprietor says we can have a table and will be served in twenty minutes. I
point out that means an hour. The proprietor refutes that. Three quarters of an
hour later he comes back and explains that they have been trying to cook
without a chef and are not coping but if we care to wait twenty minutes we will
be served. I ask him if it’s the same twenty minutes as when we came in. A
waitress comes over to apologise and I tell her that every time I have come to
the Mad Mongoose it’s been a bad experience and it’s happening all over again.
They offer not to charge us for our drinks. But Lindsay and I leave anyway.
Day 221 – Wednesday. Although I wake up at six as usual, after breakfast, I go
back to bed and sleep until nine thirty. There is a message on my ‘phone from

someone asking what I want done with the carpets. I refer them to a Director of
the ACYM. I am taking the day off.
I try ringing Amanda but can’t get through, eventually, I make contact and we
agree to meet for lunch in Jolly Harbour. Lindsay and I have a few things to do
in St. John’s which includes, finally, an internet connection for home. We offer
to pay for a year in advance which appears to be a bit unusual so I ask for a
discount and get ten per cent. The paperwork takes an age and we have to set
up yet another internet address.
We set off for Jolly Harbour and yet again, coming out of St. John’s I take a
wrong turning. One of these days I will work out the correct way from St. John’s
to Jolly Harbour. I thought I’d cracked it this time.
We meet Rob and Amanda at a dockside restaurant and it’s quite strange. We
have been looking forward to their arrival for weeks and I think the same is true
of them but it seems rather difficult to get back onto the old familiarity, probably
as so much has changed in all our lives in the last six months. They tell us of
their awful trip across the Atlantic and have almost come to the conclusion that
the only way to go to windward is in a 747. They have definitely decided to take
crew on their Pacific crossings.
We agree that they will come to English Harbour on Friday and stay with us. If
it’s anything like previous occasions the drinks cabinet will take quite a beating.
We tell them that as Nicki will be staying us so the will have to have the
‘dungeon’. They were used to that in our previous house except this is much
more a dungeon.
Lindsay has to collect a hi-fi system for the Amazing Grace Christmas party and
has arranged to pick it after four. Lindsay rings but it’s not ready. I need to go
to the office to check e-mails but the internet is down. As Lindsay’s hi-fi is still
not ready and it has to be collected from English Harbour and she needs my car
we agree to meet at the Tot. one of the Tot Club members has had their car
stolen and the thief has run over and killed a twenty three year old tourist.
By the time we leave the Tot the hi-fi is still not ready. I get home ahead of
Lindsay and hear her on the ‘phone as she walks to the front door. The hi-fi
won’t be ready today.
We check the flight arrival times and Nicki’s ‘plane is about fifteen minutes
early. I head off to the airport. As there are only a few people arriving from St.
Lucia, she is through Immigration and Customs quite quickly. Nicki tells me of
her trip over and her rather incompetent skipper. It so happens I know him and
never really liked him. Obviously, Nicki had held back a bit, thinking he was a
friend of mine but now she tells me what she really thinks of him. There are
expressions for people like him which, in view of the fact that my parents read
this, I won’t put into print.

This is the first time we have had guests in the house and Sunny, who doesn’t
like women, takes to Nicki quite quickly. I suspect it’s because she’s eating a
meal. Lindsay has nicknamed Sunny, J Edgar as she hoovers up anything in
sight and, despite constantly being disciplined, would take food off your plate
given half a chance. I have come to the conclusion that if Sunny was human
she would be blonde.
Day 222 – Thursday. A bit of a leisurely start. I have promised Nicki I will take
her into the Dockyard for an early morning coffee as I have to go and check my
e-mails. Last night Lindsay mentioned that one of our neighbours had told her of
a plot of land coming up for sale near us. It was several days ago and she has
only just got around to telling me. On my way into English Harbour I call in at
the neighbour’s office and ask about it. The plot turns out to be only a couple of
hundred yards from us and one I have looked at on numerous occasions,
wondered who owned it and, when I found out, was told it would never come up
for sale. Subject to price, it could be one of the best we have yet seen.
I have about forty e-mails which takes me longer to deal with than I had
expected. Lindsay needs my car at half ten to collect food for the Christmas
party which she has persuaded hotels and restaurants to donate. She also has
to collect the hi-fi equipment.
Yesterday, Rob and Amanda told me they wanted to have their boat lifted out in
English Harbour and I said I would check on it for them. I happened to see the
manager last night and he said there would be no problem. They also want to
arrive in English Harbour earlier than their booking. As I run into the Harbour
Master this morning I ask him if that’s okay. He suggests the earlier the better
so I ring Amanda and give her the good news on both accounts. She tells me
they were at a function hosted by the Ministry of Tourism last night and
someone mentioned they had friends on the island. When my name was given
it was recognised by whomever they were talking to which might make recent
efforts worthwhile.
I get home at ten fifteen and immediately go to see the people who have the
plot for sale. They are about to put it on the market and think I am the agent
who has come to advise them. I explain the position and we exchange ;phone
numbers. As Lindsay needs the car I tell them that I have to go and will be in
touch over the next couple of days.
Lindsay takes Nicki with her as she is dropping her off at Jolly Harbour to spend
the day (and night) with Rob and Amanda. I am staying at home to design and
sort our Christmas cards which I haven’t had a chance to do so far plus I want a
few quite days peace and quite. No chance. My ‘phone doesn’t stop ringing
and, as a result I am going to have to do a full days work tomorrow and possibly
Saturday as well.

Lindsay rings at five to two. She is still waiting for the hi-fi and the party starts
at two. Also, the had asked me for a bottle of whisky to give to the Chairman of
the charity who is Scottish. When she returns home she tells me that the way
things are being organised she may not get to the dinner this evening until quite
late.
I finish everything by five and need to shower and change before going to the
yacht club AGM and annual dinner. As Lindsay has my car and won’t be back
before I leave I ask a friend who lives nearby to collect me. It saves us having
two cars at the club. I am just about ready when he arrives and I open the front
door and the dogs shoot out. I chase them all around the garden before
catching them. I needn’t have bothered with that shower.
The AGM is long and detailed with every club officer giving a report. After the
report stage comes the election of new officers. Originally there were only two
being contested, the Treasurer but one of the contestants died unexpectedly
last week, and Fleet Captain. I am one of the two nominees for Fleet Captain
but, when it comes to the election the other candidate withdraws on the grounds
that I am far better qualified than him (his words not mine).
After the AGM there are free drinks in the club house before going to dinner in a
nearby restaurant. Lindsay rings just as we are about to leave the club. She is
on her way so I say I will wait for her. As it turns out, everything is running late
so Lindsay misses nothing. The dinner is quite good for mass catering but I
send back a bottle of wine as undrinkable. There are several more speeches
and one is very long and boring. The speaker starts recounting stories from the
early sixties and after three quarters of an hour he has reached on 1967.
Lindsay speculates on how long it will take him to get to 2005. Her neighbour
repeats the speculation in a loud voice. The speaker, who is a Vicecommodore
from a yacht club somewhere in Norfolk, doesn’t seem to have
noticed that virtually no one is listening and conversations are going on all
around the room. To make matters worse, his speech is neither interesting nor
amusing. Suddenly the speech stops abruptly when he has reach about 1970.
The microphone has ceased to work. We suspect someone has pulled the
plug. The speaker asks if it’s hint for him to stop. There is a chorus ‘Yes’ from
around the room. Someone, unfortunately, fixes the microphone and he starts
again but must have taken the hint as he covers the next twenty five years in
about ten minutes. I fear for the sanity of the members of his yacht club should
he ever make Commodore. We leave dinner after midnight.
Day 223 – Friday. Lindsay still has my car full of hi-fi equipment and, as I have
accumulated a lot of work to do plus have a meeting in St. John’s at twelve
thirty , we agree that Lindsay will drop my car back to me once she has
disposed of the hi-fi. Originally, I was going to collect Rob, Amanda and Nicki
from Jolly Harbour and bring them down to English Harbour. This looks
impractical so Lindsay will do it.

John Burton will love the fact that I drove Lindsay’s Suzuki Jimny, something I
have avoided to date. Within a few hundred yards I am stiff and uncomfortable,
I can’t imagine how John fits in one let alone drives it. Also, everything feels as
though it’s made of elastic, the engine, the brakes, the suspension, the steering,
even the steering wheel flexes in your hands. I suspect this a ruse by Lindsay
to persuade me to let her have a better car. It also occurs to me that she will
never get Rob, Amanda and Nicki in the car with any more than a crisp packet
for luggage. Reluctantly, I tell her to keep my car and I will use hers.
Driving to St. John’s my impression of the car changes a little. It’s quite nippy
but I don’t rate it’s road holding too much and it does rather crash and bang
over the bumps but it gets me there.
A favourite place for lunch meetings is a restaurant just outside of St. John’s
called Philton’s and you can guarantee to meet someone you know in there
doing business. My meeting is fairly brief and I stay on for some lunch. Whilst
there the people I met yesterday who own the land walk in. It’s most convenient
as I had planned to make contact with them again. We agree to meet at four
thirty at their house.
I have other things to do in St. John’s and get back to the office at three which
gives me about an hour to sort a few things out but not enough time to complete
everything. I will have to come back tomorrow.
An e-mail comes through from the agent selling the house in which we have
expressed interest telling me they think it’s sold, obviously not through them. I
wonder if it is to us.
I arrive back home and pick up Lindsay. We drive up to the house where the
people have the plot but they say they are too tired to show us around. We
agree to come back on Sunday, however, I ask them what price they want for
the land. Unfortunately, they are being rather unrealistic but I don’t say
anything. We will go back on Sunday and see if they are negotiable.
We take Rob, Amanda and Nicki to the Tot. Rob decides he wants to join so I
introduce him. Nicki and Amanda decline. Tim Wall is at the Tot so I tackle him
about his plot now that I have something to argue with. He indicates he might
be in a position to say something soon. I can see what’s going to happen.
They will all come up at once.
After the Tot we go out to dinner. Graeme, Robbie, Des and a young lad Nicki
met on the ARC join us. It’s quite a long evening and we don’t get home until
around midnight. In the old days back in Brighton we would sit up until the
small hours with Rob and Amanda but we are all too tired.
Day 224 – Saturday. I need to go into the office to sort the labels for the
Christmas cards. Lindsay asks me to buy some things for breakfast but, by the

time I get back everyone is up and has eaten. Having bought some fresh
French bread I make do with that.
We head down to the Dockyard mid-morning and have a coffee in a waterside
café and try to sort Rob and Amanda’s boat coming into English Harbour earlier
than it should. The Dock Master agrees.
Rob and Amanda have a friend who owns a superyacht which was here for the
show but they don’t know if it’s left yet. We go to have a look in Falmouth and
come across Gypsy Moth IV, the yacht Francis Chichester circumnavigated the
world in single handed. It has come across on the Blue Water Rally and Rob
and Amanda know the skipper. We get shown around. The whole boat has
been completely renovated and although it has completely up to date
instruments they are hidden behind the originals to retain the authenticity.
Lindsay drives Rob and Amanda back to Jolly Harbour and says she and Nicki
will stop for a swim. I say I will stay behind and catch up on some work. About
halfway through the afternoon the power runs out on my computer and I find I
have left the charger in the office. It means driving Lindsay’s car again to get it.
As I want to finish what I am doing, I have no choice.
When Lindsay returns I suggest she addresses a few cards so that they can go
with the lot I have done. I have already advised Nicki of the reply I will get as it
is the same every year. Lindsay tells me that she will get around to it and it
doesn’t matter if they are late which means they won’t get done.
Derek Guthrie, an old friend of Graeme’s and someone I had met on a number
of occasions in Brighton, arrives with his daughter. He is a film producer and
Graeme is hopeful he may show interest in his book for which Graeme has
already written a script. Derek had received the script and has brought it with
him to Antigua.
As I am driving into English Harbour with all our cards for Clair and John to take
back to the U.K. to post I realise I have left there’s at home John and Clair’s
card. I tell them I feel a bit guilty asking them to post our cards without having
given them one. It’s alright, they are in Lindsay mode and haven’t got around to
doing there’s yet.
Rob and Amanda have been telling us about one of the organisers of the Blue
Water Rally with whom they don’t get on with very well. He has been invited to
the Tot and, for no reason I can discern, starts talking to me. After about fifteen
minutes it becomes apparent to him I know quite a lot about what has gone on
in the Rally and I have to admit to knowing Rob and Amanda which I had been
trying to avoid as Rob wanted this organiser not to realise he is becoming a Tot
member until his initiation is complete. Apparently, this guy wants to become a
member as well but hasn’t been invited.

There is a quiz at the yacht club and Robbie, Des and Graeme used to form
part of a successful team in Brighton. The teams are made up of four and as
Graeme is entertaining Derek, Robby and Des are joined by Philip (very bright)
and Nicki. They are considered the ‘hot’ team. Lindsay and I join Sandy and
his girl friend who is a very reluctant participant. I think we are considered to
have little chance however, the questions are most bizarre and we win by a
comfortable margin where as Robby, Des, Philip and Nicki come last. It was a
very poorly conducted quiz but quite good fun. We win four bottles of Mount
Gay rum.
Nicki gets into a conversation with Graeme about his book which she hasn’t
read. Graeme mentions his hopes of having it made into a film and Nicki
suggests he shouldn’t be too disappointed if it doesn’t come off. I get the
impression this may have upset Graeme as the conversation soon develops
into a bit of a row not helped by the alcohol consumed.
For the second time this week I am dragged off to the Mad Mongoose. Nicki
wants to experience it but, after one drink, agrees it’s an experience not to be
repeated. I can’t understand why people won’t accept it when I say the Mad
Mongoose is the worst bar in Antigua. They always have to find out for
themselves. In a way the Mad Mongoose is like a Porsche or an Oyster (a
yacht for those who don’t know) which are triumphs of marketing over design.
The Mad Mongoose is a triumph of marketing over quality of service and
environment.
Day 225 – Sunday. Lindsay and I go to meet the Americans and look around
the two plots they have for sale. They are not really sure where the boundaries
are as the surveyor never turned up last week. The views are great but the land
and access is not as easy as it appeared from the road also the house in front is
rather scruffy but, subject to price, it may be worth pursuing. The owners seem
to have taken on board what I said about land being sold by the square foot.
Hopefully, when they get some advice on land prices per square foot they may
be sensible in their asking prices.
Nicki comes with us to Keep Fit and we are attending to a trail which can only
be reached in a 4 x 4 or on foot. I have the only 4 x 4 amongst the group
clearing the trail so take all the tools and some of the party promising to return
to collect the others. As I get to the top of the hill the heavens open and I don’t
think I can leave my passengers in the rain so I wait until the shower, a very
heavy one, passes through. On my way down to collect the others I meet them
about halfway. They had given up on me and started walking and are soaked.
It rains on and off all morning and by the time we have finished we are all
soaked to the skin. Lindsay Nicki and another woman decide to walk back.
Looking at the approaching clouds I suggest they may get very wet. Lindsay
comments that she couldn’t get much wetter. She is wrong. It pours down and
three drowned rats walk into the Galley Bar.

Whilst looking out to sea I observe a fleet of boats racing and presume they
have come from Jolly Harbour but find out later that they are from Antigua Yacht
Club and it’s the first race in the High Tide series. No one has told me and, not
yet being actively involved in racing, I haven’t looked at the racing calendar. I
feel that as the new Fleet Captain I should go down to the yacht club after they
have finished but we have been invited out to lunch and I know Lindsay’s
reaction if I suggest I miss lunch and go to the Club so I keep quiet but feel
rather guilty at failing to perform my duty at the first opportunity I am given.
There is quite a group of us for lunch at Tony and Moya’s and they always
entertain well. On our way down we stop at Crabhole Liquors for some wine.
The white is the standard Pinot Grigiot and I see a bottle of claret which seems,
from the label, to have a good pedigree but it’s very cheap so I suspect a fraud
but buy it anyway. Everyone is most complimentary about the wine which turns
out to be surprisingly good but at EC$29 far too cheap for the quality. I wonder
if it has been marked up incorrectly and may go back and buy some more.
We gat back home at around five and decide to have a quiet evening at home
with an early night. The night turns out to be quite cold and as the duvet is still
somewhere in the packing, I get up and put on a dressing gown to keep warm.
Day 226 – Monday. I am going into the office to try to catch up on some work
and Nicki wants a lift into English Harbour. She is going to try one of the trails
up to Shirley Heights. I have a pile of things to do both business, Marine Expo
and now the yacht club. Also Desmond Nicholson wants me to print some more
of his brief history of Nelson’s time in Antigua and the Tot Club want me to burn
some disks of the video of the Trafalgar Night Celebrations. The DVD has
some kind of anti-copying device in it which the American airbase have
removed for me but, when I come to copy the disk, I discover it’s 1.2 gb and the
disks I have are only 700 mb. I get a 4.7 gb disk from next door but my new
computer won’t read it and the Apple keeps wanting to play it rather than copy
it. I give up and will return to it when I have more time.
The morning disappears very quickly and I have done less than half of what I
intended when I go out deliver a couple of letters and get some lunch. On my
return I see Lindsay has parked where I was. Walking back to the office my
‘phone rings. It’s Lindsay. She has found the office locked and me not there.
She must be somewhat unobservant since my car was not around when she
parked. I ask her if she has brought me some lunch. She has and so have I.
In fact I have enough for two. I ordered a couple of sandwiches and a shop I’ve
not used before. I end up with a whole French stick cut in two and filled with
about three times the quantity you would get in a U.K. sandwich bar. Lindsay
has brought me a beef roll. I manage to eat one and a half of my sandwiches.
Nicki arrives back from her walk just as Lindsay is about to leave which is
convenient as she can take Nicki home.

Rob and Amanda have sailed into English Harbour and I agree to pick them up
at five thirty to take them to the Tot on Tenacious. It will be Rob’s second
qualifying Tot.
I have promised Desmond Nicholson his printing will be done by four but, with
too many interruptions, it isn’t. In fact, by the time I am ready to leave at five
thirty it still isn’t finished. I tell them it will be ready by ten tomorrow.
I pick up Rob and Amanda and we drive to where Tenacious is berthed. Just
after we arrive on board we meet the Blue Water Rally organiser, Tony. Rob
and Amanda are not too keen on Tony and his wife. Tony mentions he is here
for his second Tot. He must have started at one of the Tots we missed. Rob is
a bit disappointed that he is on the same number as him. I get revenge for Rob.
Tony’s wife is trying her first. I make sure that both she and Tony get a really
full measure which she fails to drink.
After the Tot we go out for a meal and are joined by Nicki’s friend, James. We
go the Gallery, a restaurant I am not too keen on and my opinion is confirmed
when they only serve chilled red wine and half the wines on the list are out of
stock. To make matters worse, my steak comes in a red wine sauce which is
not mentioned on the menu. I hate food cooked in wine. As soon as we have
finished eating we move on to Life. Although they haven’t been drinking that
much, Rob and Amanda are worse for wear, Rob in particular.
Day 227 – Tuesday. I am in the office early to try to get a few things done
before my ten o’clock meeting with Callie, Tracy and Anna-Maria. Tracy wants
to change the time to twelve which I think suits me as I have a lot to do. The
others agree.
Callie arrives first and is still unhappy with me for the e-mail I sent her telling her
she was being very effusive and rather American. I tell her that I didn’t think
self-congratulatory e-mails distributed to all and sundry were in order
particularly since she was not there during the exhibition. She accepts she may
have gone over the top. The meeting drags on mainly due to Callie using ten
words when one would do but by three thirty we have worked out a report on
the Marine Expo in draft form. Callie agrees to take it away and type it into a
usable form.
By four thirty I have had enough and go home for a shower and change. We
are taking Rob and Amanda together with Nicki to Jolly Harbour for a party
being put on for the Blue Water Rally and pick them up at quarter to six.
It’s dark by the time we get to the rain forest road, Fig Tree Drive. A van comes
up fast behind us with only one headlight, the nearside one. The road is quite
good but fairly twisty. The van driver is obviously very keen to overtake and
keep putting his one headlight onto main beam and pulling out only to be faced
with a bend. When he can’t overtake he sit right on my bumper to try to make

me go faster. It has the reverse affect. I stick rigidly to the speed limit.
Unfortunately, every time we come to a straight stretch of road there is oncoming
traffic. After about three miles we catch up with another car going
slightly more slowly. The drive behind me becomes even more agitated but
with no more success. After a further couple of miles he finally loses patience
and pulls out on a blind bend. He get about halfway past me when a car
appears around the bend and they collide head-on.
The car in front of us pulls over as do we. Lindsay rushes to the car and I check
the van. The drivers is out and the driver of the car, a lady is lying in the road,
uninjured but shocked. Both airbags have exploded in the car and a young girl
is in the passenger seat. The husband was sitting in the back and is yelling at
the driver of the van. While Lindsay comforts mother and daughter I try to call
the police on 911 but it is constantly engaged. Eventually I get through and
they give me another number to ring. I hope the police come soon as the man
looks and sounds as though he’s about to kill the van driver who is only a young
lad.
I talk to the car owner and he only moved to the island in May, from Croydon,
and brought his car, a Ford Focus, with him. It looks like write-off but he has to
be thankful it is a modern car with air bags. Even so, the windscreen is crazed
where someone hit it. Lindsay is sitting on some steps beside the road
comforting the young girl and the mother. The van is rather blocking the traffic
but no one dare move it before the police arrive. It’s engine is still running and
the radiator is leaking so I suspect it might seize soon. I advise the driver to
turn the engine off but he ignores me.
The police turn up and wander around with a torch and a tape measure. They
don’t seem terribly concerned. I have given a card to the Focus owner which he
gives to the police. I give him a couple more and say that I will act as a witness.
Since the police are not particularly interested I ask if I can and they agree.
We arrive at the party which seems a bit dead. There are a couple of people
from Tourism I know and I chat to them for a while. Nicki get chatted up by one
of them. There is a lengthy prize giving which Rob calls the rally congratulating
itself. This is followed by the naming of a Christmas fairy. The rally organiser is
called Tony and as Rob and Amanda don’t really like him I have put his name
down as the Christmas fairy, Several others have done likewise. His wife
reads out the selection of names but doesn’t seem to approve of my choice.
The organisers seem to have under catered and the food runs out so we leave
and go to a local restaurant.
Day 228 – Wednesday. I think I am going to be able to get out of the office
fairly early as I have cleared most of what I needed to do but it doesn’t prove to
be the case. We can’t match my accounts for the Marine Expo with the cash
position at the ABMA. Unusually, we have over EC$3,000 more than we

should. I take my laptop down to the ABMA and cross check my figures. All my
figures are correct but there is still too much cash. As I haven’t been involved in
the money side I leave them to sort it out.
The American lady selling the land rings to say she’s not selling as it doesn’t
seem like a good time. I suspect she has been told the true value of her land.
Nicki is taking Lindsay and I out to dinner but we have to take Rob for his third
Tot. Tony, from the rally, is also on his third but Rob has heard he thinks it’s at
Life. We don’t advise him to the contrary but, somehow, he finds out.
The restaurant we have chosen is one we have never eaten in and only opened
a few weeks ago. The waitress obviously thinks we are tourists and presents
the restaurant as though it has been around for ages. Perhaps because we let
her know we are aware they have only just opened she is rather off-hand to the
point of being rude. We have another problem with chilled red wine. She says
its chilled to room European temperature, 16* but as it has come out of a ‘fridge
I tell her it is more like 5* and ask her to get a bottle of unchilled wine. She
argues with me the merits of unchilled red wine. As Rob points out, it doesn’t
matter whether she thinks red wine is best chilled, as the customers, we should
have whatever we want.
Fortunately, the meal is quite good.
We leave the restaurant and go to a bar near the Dockyard for a nightcap.
Day 229 – Thursday. Finalising the report and accounts on the Marine Expo is
proving to be a longer and more tedious job than I had expected, Everybody
seems to want to have some input. By lunch time I think I am there although I
suspect there will still be some changes particularly to the accounts.
One of my neighbours in the offices comes to se me. The landlord has told her
she can’t bring her dog into the office. I tell her that we do and he has never
objected. I am sure there is nothing in the lease. I check and there isn’t.
To get a bit of a break I go down to the yacht club to find out what my
responsibilities are in respect of the Nelson’s Pursuit Race on New Year’s Eve.
The club manager has done most of the work but I am somewhat puzzled by
the idea of a pursuit race which has a fixed finish line. Unless the length of time
the race is going to take is known, fair starting times cannot be calculated. I
think it’s a bit hit and miss but I have only just been appointed it’s probably
rather soon to be suggesting better ways.
I pick up a leaflet about the pursuit race and say I will make some copies and
deliver them to visiting boats. Rob and Amanda have already said thy are doing
it and have asked me to helm.

On my way into the office I notice the pizza restaurant is open and I ask them if
they can make me a small, lunch time pizza. The say they will and deliver it to
the office. If this is small I’d hate to see a large one.
I close up at about three thirty to go to deliver some leaflets around the boats.
Rob, Amanda, Nicki, Lindsay and another couple are sitting in the Galley Bar as
I walk by. They think I am ignoring them. When I have finished I join them and
they all decide it’s time to go so I leave with Rob and Amanda for a cup of tea
on their boat pending a drinks party in the Dockyard at five.
We join the party and leave at five thirty to get Rob in for Tot number four. We
are nearly at Life when it begins to rain. It looks as though we left the party just
in time.
Lindsay arrives with Nicki and, after a couple of drinks (non-alcoholic for me as I
feel I will fall over if I drink anything), I drive Nicki to the airport. I manage to get
a reasonably early night for the first time in weeks.
Day 230 – Friday. A fairly slow start as I have nothing urgent to do, Lindsay
has been promising Roger he can have her bicycle and I have promised Rob
and Amanda they can have my wind scoop for their boat. I put both into the car
and deliver them to the Dockyard.
Our report on the Marine Expo is finally complete and I try to arrange with the
others to meet up and sign it. The financial position is looking better as some of
our budgeted amounts are proving to be higher than the bills we are receiving.
As things stand, we may be coming in well below the revised budget but still
above the original which was just a guess based on last year.
Having delivered leaflets around the Dockyard yesterday I do the rounds of
Falmouth and the Antigua Yacht Club Marina. It surprises me that the yacht
club relies on posters and word of mouth to get entrants. It will be interesting to
see if any more appear as a result of the leaflets.
I try to arrange to meet up with Callie and Tracy to sign the report but it proves
impossible. Since I have a cheque for Callie, she and I meet and sign the
documents and p.p. it for Tracy. We have a couple of pina coladas at the
Admiral’s Inn to celebrate the end of the Marine Expo except it isn’t over as I
still have to finalise the accounts and the ABMA is being a bit difficult over
Tracy’s expenses as they are rather ill defined. Callie asks me my age and I tell
her. She comments that she hopes she is as confident as I am when she
reaches fifty seven. I reply, perhaps a little ungraciously, that I don’t think I am
any different than I was thirty or forty years ago. Maybe I am but haven’t noticed
the change.
I plan to try to get away from the office by about three and nearly succeed. It’s
three thirty. Lindsay has been telling me to get my hair cut. The place I go to

get my cut can’t do me until tomorrow so I make a booking for nine thirty. A
very friendly cat seems to want to come home with me despite me trying to tell it
that the dogs may not appreciate the company. I have to shoo it away as I get
into the car.
We are planning to have a quiet night so it’s a quick Tot for Rob’s number five
although it does get a little extended. Also, we pick up a cheque for the printing
I did for the Trafalgar Night celebrations and some interesting comments are
made about the person who, allegedly, had defrauded an investor from the U.K.
of an amount of money on a land deal. Apparently, he is aware that I have
been ignoring him since I heard of the ‘transaction’. He hasn’t been around
much due to an injury sustained when falling off a ladder. It has struck me that
the injury was rather co-incident with the arrival on the island with the investor’s
partner who, I am told, is a bit of a rough diamond.
Day 231 – Saturday. My hair is cut by the same girl who did it in Brighton in
February and I don’t think I have been quite so comprehensively chatted up in a
long time. I had told her in February I was moving to Antigua and she said she
had been really looking forward to meeting me out here. When asked if I am
here with my partner I pointed out that I had come to Antigua with my wife. She
was evidently disappointed.
I have arranged to collect Rob and Amanda together with a couple of their
friends and drive them to Jolly Harbour where Rob is to try and assist one of the
Rally boats which has an engine problem. I pick them up at about ten thirty,
dropping them at Jolly Harbour around eleven. I give Rob a bundle of Nelson’s
Pursuit Race leaflets to hand around boats in Jolly Harbour. I doubt any will join
in but it’s worth a try. I decide to drive back via St. John’s and drop a card into
our solicitor. As I get a card out of the bag I find twelve cards which should
have gone to the U.K. but, somehow, have become muddled with the local
ones. They include Anouska’s, Tina and Mike’s, the Tylers’ and several others.
Although it’s far too late, I rush to the post office to get them off before
Christmas but the post office is closed.
Delivering cards around English Harbour takes its time as I keep being invited in
but In refuse the offered drinks although I accept a bag of freshly roasted coffee
from Tim Wall. Another plot I have heard about is roughly on my way home. I
go and have a look. The views are good and the slope on the plot acceptable
but the road poor and the houses around a bit indifferent but one not to be ruled
out. The owner is in the U.K. for two or three weeks so there is no urgency.
Later, I show it to Lindsay who suggests we may buy it as well as the house.
I have been asked to stand in as Rum Steward at the Tot. The wife of the Rally
organiser who is trying to become a Tot member has discovered that, as a lady,
she is entitled to a half measure rather than the full measures I have been
ensuring she receives. I gather she has been occasionally a little worse for
wear after a full measure.

Standing at the bar a couple start chatting to me. We get onto where we came
from and why we moved to Antigua. It transpires he comes from Southwick.
He asks what I did in the U.K. and I say estate agency. He presumes it was in
Brighton but I inform him it was Haywards Heath. He says I must have found it
difficult competing with the likes of Duffy and Company. I hadn’t introduced
myself but, much to his surprise, do so now. It is quite amusing. Further into
the conversation, his lady companion tells me of her daughter who works for
NTL. I point out that Simon is Chairman of NTL. The man is much better
informed on current goings-on than me but had never put the Duffy surnames
together. He brings me up to date on what has been going on in NTL.
We are booked in for dinner at Calabash with Graeme, Des, Robbie, Rob and
Amanda. Dinner is traditional Christmas fare. Rob is in seventh heaven as he
has fresh Brussels sprouts. Earlier he had talk of bringing a tin of Brussels
sprouts to the Admiral’s Inn but had advised me I would not be allowed to throw
them at him. Not being a Brussels sprout fan, I cannot resist bouncing one into
his plate. He is mortified when it bounces out and onto the floor depriving him
of the pleasure of eating it.
Day 232 – Sunday. It’s Christmas Day and we are meeting Rob, Amanda and
two of their friends in the Dockyard for breakfast on Rob and Amanda’s boat.
Lindsay is taking smoked salmon and eggs (to be scrambled) plus two types of
melon. Rob and Amanda supply the champagne and orange juice. After
breakfast is finished and the champagne all gone their friends produce another
bottle. I am not a fan of champagne and, having had Buck’s Fizz first time
around, struggle to drink a glass of undiluted champagne particularly at this time
of day. Matters get worse. It’s almost obligatory to buy a bottle of dreadful
‘champagne’ at the Dockyard party which starts at twelve.
Eleven of us are booked into the Admiral’s Inn for Christmas lunch which we
have now done for the past six years. It’s always the same menu and includes
all the wine, this year flowing more freely than usual but, instead of the usual
steel band, they have someone on an electronic keyboard accompanied by a
singer. It’s not quite the same.
The Tot is on a boat in the Dockyard and at four rather than the usual six.
Since today will be Rob’s number seven and qualifying Tot, we leave the others
at the Inn and head off to the boat. The others appear as we finish and Lindsay
and I decide to leave partly as the dogs have been on their own all day and
need feeding and partly as neither of us want any more to drink.
On the way home I telephone my parents thinking most of the family are there
for Christmas. I must have misread the e-mail as I though they were eating in
the evening. Apparently, it was launch time and they have all gone.

We settle in for a quiet evening and decided to watch a video. Something has
gone wrong with the player. We can get sound but no picture. After about half
an hour of fiddling around I get a very poor picture and continue to play with the
machine. It’s apparent the picture is improving so I leave the video to run and,
after about ten minutes, the picture returns to normal. I suspect the pick-up
heads had become dirty and it took some time to wear the dirt off. I can only
presume that since we don’t use the machine very often the moist atmosphere
has caused an element of corrosion to the heads. We will have to try running a
video every so often to keep them clean.
It’s still quite early but bed beckons.
Day 233 – Monday. No plans for anything today although Lindsay goes for a
run and I take the dogs for a walk. The rest of the morning we spend lazing
around. Lindsay manages to take some nice photos of Tenacious as she
leaves Falmouth with all sails set. The wind is a bit southerly for her to safely
negotiate the mouth of the bay with her square rigged sails so I suspect she is
more powered more by engine than sail.
I cannot imagine how I could be so remiss as to forget that Rob and Amanda
returned Teddy yesterday as a ‘Christmas present’ from Tina. I had left him on
Rob and Amanda’s boat yesterday and when we arrive in the Dockyard at lunch
time Amanda insists I take him. I suggest he is looking forward to a
circumnavigation but Amanda will have none of it. Lindsay threatens to feed
him to the dogs.
After a cup of coffee we wander up to the yacht club. It is closed as the racing
fleet is not yet in. We sit in a café and have ice creams. The yacht club opens
and we wander in. The ‘phone rings. It’s Geoff Pidduck. He’s stuck on a sand
bank. Later, we have some fun at his expense.
We leave Rob and Amanda and go home to feed the dogs and then on to the
Tot as I am Rum Steward. I am approached by someone who has run across a
monopoly situation which threatens to close his business. He supplies wireless
internet connections to boats. I am not sure of the full story but he is being told
what he is doing is illegal. A company which claims to own a monopoly on
wireless internet supply is threatening action if he doesn’t cease. This other
company is proposing to charge yachts three or four times what he charges and
the yachts are not happy. I don’t know what I can do but I say I will take it up
with the Marine Liaison Officer at the Ministry of Tourism. Also, I ask if he has
seen any documentation which supports the claim of this other company. He
hasn’t so I suggest he asks them to supply it before he considers any further
action.
We do not stay long and head home for dinner and a couple of videos. It’s a bit
like Christmas in the U.K.. We’ve watched more television in the past few days
than over the past several months.

Day 234 – Tuesday. Another quiet day as it’s a public holiday. I decide it’s time
to clean the inside of my car. As usual, we have a mixture of extension leads
and plugs, none of which quite match up. Eventually, I get a combination which
enables me to take the hoover outside. A black interior must be the worst
colour to clean. Everything smears. Lindsay takes the opportunity to hoover
out her car. I think of cleaning the outside with the pressure washer but, after
having blown up one transformer, I check the ratings of the pressure washer
and the transformer. The pressure washer is 1800 watt and the transformer
1500 so the car stays dirty.
Lindsay slips off to the beach for an hour or so and I remain at home reading.
Today is the first totally relaxed day I have had in months.
We are about to leave to pick up Rob and Amanda at five thirty when Sandy
arrives. He is leaving the island for the U.K. tomorrow and wants to talk about
the electrical installation. We are in a hurry and have to cut him short.
Rob is taking his test to join the Tot Club tonight as is Mr & Mrs Demented (as
Rob and Amanda call them). I am testing Mr Demented. Unfortunately, he is
absolutely word perfect. I can’t fault him on anything except one word he gets
wrong so I score him only 99%. His wife does quite well with 90% and Rob
comes in third with 85%. Rob has not been looking forward to his exam.
Apparently, he never does well in them.
We go to dinner at a restaurant we haven’t eaten in since 1998 when I upset the
chef. He had come to our table partway through the meal and asked how the
meals was going. I had ordered medallions of beef. They came as three
pieces. Two were delicious but one was as tough as old shoe leather. I
commented that it was a pity all three pieces did not come from the same cow.
The chef was not happy. It seems he hasn’t learnt his lesson. Rob and
Amanda’s beef comes from a different cow from mine but the chef declines, on
this occasion, to ask our opinion.
Day 235 – Wednesday. I go into the office around nine to check on e-mails and
any business which may have occurred over the Christmas break. There isn’t
much. I sent an e-mail to the Marine Liaison Officer at the Ministry of Tourism
regarding the wi-fi internet connection in the Dockyard and download the
specifications from the internet on Rob and Amanda’s boat so we can enter it
for the Nelson’s Pursuit Race on New Year’s Eve.
I eventually manage to post the cards which were missed before Christmas.
After I have done so I realise, as they were originally due to be posted in the
U.K., that I have failed to put U.K. on the address. I wonder if they will ever get
there.

My plans to fly back for the Boat Show are going a bit astray. I can’t get a flight
at under £1,750 unless I want to fly ‘cattle class’. I notice that Friday 13 th is
quite cheap which would give me two days at the show. I wonder if it’s worth it.
Graeme told me yesterday that I have sent the previous week’s edition yet
again. No one else seems to have noticed so I send an e-mail suggesting
either it has become boring and no-one is reading it all everyone is too drunk
after the festivities.
Rob and Amanda appear and are on their way to buy some food and drink to
stock the villa where their family will be staying. I tell them I will collect them
from the supermarket when I have finished.
I have an e-mail from John Burton telling me that the engine of his Suzuki Jimny
has blown up and they still haven’t got a replacement after four weeks.
Obviously, it’s not just the Caribbean where Suzuki engines are hard to come
by.
We drive around to the villa which seems rather nice and is almost next to a plot
we looked at. The road has had some work done to it since I last drove down it
and is much improved.
We have agreed to meet Lindsay at the house we are considering buying. We
don’t have keys but it’s easy to get into through a window so I go in and open
the door for the others. Rob and Amanda seem to like it quite a lot and threaten
to buy it if we don’t.
Lindsay, doing some banking on the way, is taking Rob and Amanda up to the
airport to meet their family who are coming in on two separate flights about an
hour and a half apart. They are making their own way back. I go home and
when Lindsay arrives back she expresses surprise to see me. I tell her I will go
back to the office if she wishes.
Amanda rings at about five to find out whether we are picking them up for the
Tot. There are lots of screaming kids in the background. Seems like a place to
be avoided. We collect them at five thirty so that Rob can do his Miss-muster to
finally become a Tot member. Rob and Amanda have arranged with the family
to bring a pork pie to the Tot. Very much prized in Antigua. They have to be
back with family by seven so we leave early but not before I am tackled again
about the internet access for yachts. There is a petition being drawn up. I
suggest individual letters are much more valuable than a petition.
Day 236 – Thursday. Our landlord at the office is complaining that we still have
boxes of the Marine Guide in his store room. There are nineteen left in there
and I can just about carry two boxes at a time. I take a couple upstairs and go
for another two. That’s enough for the time being. If I grab a couple every so
often I can probably clear it in a couple of days. I tell him they will all be gone

y next week but remind him that they are only there because he has
obstructed the rear entrance which is at first floor level.
There is no reply to my e-mail from the Marine Liaison Officer so I send him an
update. Maybe he’s not back at work yet. I have his mobile number so I will
ring him later.
Although half the country still seems to be on holiday, much like the U.K., there
is work I need to get done and, having had enough of a break, I start back in the
office in earnest. Most companies do their advertising budgets early in the year
and I want to catch them for 2007 as soon as possible. Unfortunately, the
database of companies we were is a bit poor and I decide to generate a new
one. I try to adapt a programme I brought from the U.K. but it’s more effort than
starting from scratch.
More information arrives regarding the internet link to the yachts and the picture
is getting clearer. I do some checking on the into international
telecommunications agreements and discover that the company providing the
service to the yachts had been doing nothing illegal but it also transpires that
they have failed to apply for an Antigua ISP licence which may just be a
technicality. I put together a report for the Marine Liaison Officer and leave it to
him to sort out.
The Tot tonight is on someone’s yacht moored out in the harbour. I would not
have bothered to go if I had not been the Rum Steward for the week. Without a
dinghy one is reliant on others to take you to and from the boat which means
you are stuck with their timing. I get a lift out on one dinghy and return on
another.
Day 237 – Friday. Rob appears in the office and I ask him if he’s feeling fit. He
hesitantly agrees he is so I tell him about the boxes that still need to be brought
up from the ground floor. With two of us it does not take long.
Lindsay appears to chase people who haven’t paid us but doesn’t get very far
as most people are not at work. We are still owed around EC$150,000 including
EC$22,000 by the Government.
As we have some banking to do and I want to go to St. John’s I prepare to set
off immediately after lunch but then remember, as it’s Friday, the bank doesn’t
close until four therefore don’t leave until three. When I arrive at the bank I am
given a Christmas present. In thirty five years of banking with Barclays I never
received any kind of present. Obviously things are different here. Amongst the
gifts is a cigar case, exactly the right size for my cigars. I am sure it is a
coincidence. Later, Lindsay comments that she had been into the bank three
times around Christmas and wonders why the gift wasn’t given to her.

A number of Christmas cards are in the mailbox including one to someone I
didn’t know had our address but to whom I always sent a card. I presume our
cards sent ion the U.K. have all arrived
The briefing for the Nelson’s Pursuit Race takes place at six in the yacht club.
We meet Rob and Amanda at the Club. Their visiting family are in the
restaurant below and after the briefing, we all meet up. For some crazy reason,
Amanda thinks the three young children can come on the race. Not only would
it be a complete nightmare having young children on board, it would be
thoroughly unsafe and I express my opinion accordingly. Fortunately, the
consensus of opinion agrees. We retire to Trapas for dinner where Lindsay and
I order a seafood platter for two which is rather disappointing. The owner of a
boat at the table next to us has a bet that they will beat us but, when I agree,
seems to want to back down. I change the bet from a bottle of Champagne to a
bottle of Carib.
Day 238 – Saturday – New Year’s Eve. I arrive in the Dockyard at around nine
thirty to meet Rob and Amanda at the boat. The rest of the crew arrive before
ten and we set off shortly after. Our start is not until eleven twenty one but we
feel we need to get in a bit of practice first. The boat is very different from what
I amused to sailing. We have sailed out under main only and quite early on it is
apparent that the boat needs the full sail plan in order to drive it, particularly
through the tacks.
We sail around the start area awaiting our turn. About half a dozen boats have
started in front of us and we quickly haul in a couple of them but are rapidly
overhauled by a big ketch before we reach the first mark. The ketch seems to
be going amazingly quickly. At the first mark we are just behind the boat with
whom we had the bet in the restaurant. Unfortunately, they are to windward of
us and we are on a downwind leg. Initially, I sail lower to see if we can break
through but have no luck so I sail right up to them and luff them to try to force
through but that doesn’t work either so I ask the crew to slow the boat and then
turn sharply across their stern. They are too slow to react and we gain the
windward position. Thereafter they are history. We pass a few more boats
before the next mark but, apart from the ketch, no one has passed us. We have
two boats as targets, another ketch and a classic Carriacou owned by Alexis.
On the beat to the last mark we pass the Carriacou and several others but the
ketch matches us tack for tack and whilst we gain sometimes, just crossing
astern, we lose at others. It’s a local boat and I suspect they know the currents
and wind shifts better than we do. We are gaining ground on the other ketch
and, about three quarters of the way down the beat we have only the two
ketches in front of us. Things are looking quite promising but the larger yachts
and the racing fleet are gaining ground. The final mark is only half a mile from
the finish and as we approach the mark there are a number of faster yachts
around us one of which gets in front.

We are crossing, just, a large seventy footer on port which sounds a horn at us.
It’s the most unusual call of ‘Starboard’ I have ever heard. We clear it with a
few feet to spare but it is now ahead of us. Also, Geoff Pidduck succeeds in
tacking inside of us as we approach the mark. Once around the mark two more
large yachts pass us before we finish. I think we are seventh across the line but
I am not sure.
The results are announced at four thirty and we are fourth in class. The two
ketches and one of the large boats which passed us before the finish were in
our class. No overall results are given so I will have to check at the yacht club.
Thirty six boats signed on but only thirty started so we are not disgraced. The
boat with whom we had the bet came last and I ask for my bottle of Carib which
is refused on the grounds of my ‘ungentlemanly’ behaviour in luffing them up.
We are booked in for dinner at Calabash for seven thirty with the Tot being held
at eight to coincide with midnight U.K.. We had hoped to see the fireworks from
Calabash as they are usually set of from Fort Berkley which is directly opposite.
This year, they are setting them off from Clarence House, which is directly
behind us.
We sit down at around eight thirty and dinner is served quite promptly. As we
want to leave at eleven thirty to drive around to the Dockyard for the fireworks I
do wonder whether we will get through all three courses and get the bill within
time.
During dinner Graeme asks if we have made any close friends and I reply that
there are no special ones although we have met a lot of new people. Lindsay
responds that we don’t need any close friends as we have each other. I hadn’t
thought about it but it seems to be true.
We manage to get the bill paid by eleven thirty and rush around to the
Dockyard. The car park outside the Dockyard and all the surrounding roads are
chock-a-block and there is nowhere to park. We chance our arm with the guard
on the gate who lets us in. The car park inside is also full so I drive right down
into the Dockyard where there is a small car park. Amazingly, there is one
space left and we are only yards from the bar.
We join Rob and Amanda for the fireworks and their family disappear as soon
as they have finished. Having made a donation to the firework display I claim
the one which is used for the finale as mine. We retire with Rob and Amanda to
HQ’s for a drink but after one drink and a day of sailing we are feeling a bit worn
out and head for home at around one.
Day 239 – Sunday. A very, very lazy day, doing absolutely nothing until we
decide to go to the Tot at six although Lindsay did go and spend a couple of
hours on the beach late morning. At about ten to five I turn on my ‘phone and

get two messages telling me that there are Bloody Mary’s at twelve. Too late,
which is probably a good thing.
At the Tot the couple who have allegedly defraud someone in a property deal
appear for the first time. They know I don’t approve of what they did and we
avoid each other. I am a little surprised that others welcome them back so
freely. I am also concerned when I see them collar a person new to the island
and take him away to a corner where they talk to him alone for about half an
hour. It may be my nasty, suspicious nature but I wonder whether they are
scheming something else.
Graeme, with Debbie and Jason who arrived from Brighton yesterday, is going
to have a pizza at a restaurant around the corner. He suggests we join them.
Lindsay is all in favour as she doesn’t have to cook. We suggest to Len who
has just returned today that he join us. He is always good company. We arrive
at the restaurant after Graeme, Debbie and Jason who came by dinghy. They
are looking a bit apologetic. The waitress has given them a bottle of chilled red
wine. I complain to the waitress who says it’s an Italian restaurant. I comment
that we are English. It’s too late as the bottle is opened but I make sure the
next one comes from the stock before it’s put in the ‘fridge. It’s not too late by
the time we leave but, after the past couple of days, I am glad all the celebrating
is over although we have to go to a triple birthday party tomorrow.
Day 240 – Monday. We laze around the house for most of the morning and
prepare to go to the party after lunch. Leaving the house just after two my
‘phone picks up a signal. There is a message. It’s from Stan, one of the party
hosts. Apparently, the party is not starting until four. We debate what to do.
We need a few provisions so go to the supermarket in Falmouth where we run
into Anthony, brother-in-law to one of the other hosts who tells us its starting at
three. Our original invite had been from two to five so we have arranged to
meet Rob and Amanda at quarter to six.
We are one of the first to arrive just after three. The house is full of animals,
five dogs and two cats. The cats are pretty useless as a tiny little mouse
appears in the kitchen. The cats must be too well fed. Our hostess screams
and tries to get one of the cats to catch the mouse. The cat’s not interested so I
try to catch it but, trying not to hurt it when I grab hold of it, it manages to jump
out of my hands and disappears.
By four there is a small crowd but the majority are still arriving as we leave just
before five. It’s a pity we have to go as the party is looking quite promising. A
lesson learnt, never plan more than one social occasion in a day.
We pick up Rob and Amanda at quarter to six for the Tot. The four of us go but
have to return by six forty five for dinner at the villa. The villa maid is cooking a
typical Caribbean meal. This will be a first for all of us and, in true Antigua style,
we are late. My only previous experience of an Antigua meal was when Alexis

dragged me to a vegetarian restaurant and the food was dreadful. This quite
good but far too much for everyone. One of the young children is not so keen
on Antiguan food and goes out for a pizza.
Day 241 – Tuesday. It’s a relief to get back to work although I spend the whole
day just updating the data base for the business records. Rob and Amanda call
in when I am in the middle of receiving a stream of e-mails from John Burton.
He sends them his regards. Lindsay is chasing unpaid accounts with mixed
success. Her standard request is to ask if she can come and collect a cheque.
Having had a few ‘yes’s’ she goes out to collect the money and pay it into the
bank. I suspect his may be a daily occurrence over the next few weeks.
Amanda rings and asks if I am going to the Tot and, if so, can they have a lift. I
suggest they come to the office at about quarter to six. After the Tot I
completely forget I am supposed to be testing an aspiring new member. It’s a
woman who is crew aboard the Lord Nelson and, unfortunately, like the
previous woman I tested, she hasn’t really done her home work and is a bit
weak on some of the subjects. When I had finished Rob, Amanda and Lindsay
had disappeared, Lindsay reappearing shortly thereafter. Apparently, Rob and
Amanda had family issues.
Day 242 – Wednesday. I have to attend a meeting organised by the Ministry of
Tourism so I put on a tie and, since it will take all afternoon, get into the office
early, Arriving in the office I realise my meeting isn’t until tomorrow.
Amongst the e-mails is one from the wife of the person from Haywards Heath
who had contacted me about accommodation. He has unexpectedly arrived on
a yacht and is in English Harbour. His son is one of the mad rowers currently
racing across the Atlantic. I telephone him and agree to go to meet him. I have
just sat down when my ‘phone rings. It’s Lindsay. I had completely forgotten
that a agent had talked me into going to see a house which I was only curious
about but, from his description, is rather too small and too expensive. I rush
back to meet him.
The house is in a lovely location and is in very nice order but, as expected, is far
too small for our furniture and there is no way it can be extended. Having said it
is not of interest, I ask the agent about the price. He confirms it is rather high
but the location does make me think again about Geoffrey’s plot which is
nearby. Also, it does make the other house seem very good value for money.
Having booked a wi-fi connection for the house on 15 th December to be
installed within “three to four days”, ACT turn up at the office and ask where I
want the connection. I tell them it’s at home. When I tell them where that is they
say they will have to come back tomorrow.
At the Tot the guy from Haywards Heath turns up with a friend, They have been
told to ask for Terry or Mike but Terry is not there and Mike is already in the

‘circle’. They are a bit late to be signed in but I do it anyway. We spend some
time talking to them afterwards and the guy from Haywards Heath and he wants
some work to do as he has to wait until 27 th or thereabouts for his son to arrive.
I say I might be able to find him something.
Rob and Amanda have invited us out to dinner so Lindsay chose the restaurant.
It’s not one we’ve been to before and is a little out in the countryside. First
impressions are good and the owner seems a bit of a joker. He warns me of a
large rattle snake in the toilets. When I come back I tell him he lied. It was only
six inches long.
The food is good and, although we did not pay the bill, it seems, from the menu
prices, to be good value for money. I would certainly recommend it to others.
We drop Rob and Amanda off in the Dockyard and, being female, Amanda
cries, apparently for the second time today. Her family left earlier. Driving
home we see a masthead light way up in the sky. It can only be Mariella V.
Day 243 – Thursday. Mariella V is parked outside our living room window. A bit
of an exaggeration. She is about a mile away but, as the largest sloop (single
masted yacht for the non-sailors) in the world, she looks as though she is right
outside. As I take the dogs for a walk she ups anchor and moves off around the
headland. I am told later she took half an hour to hoist her main sail.
I open my e-mails and one is from Amanda. She has left some papers in the
villa and has copied me in on the e-mail to the agent. I telephone her hoping
they are still in range in case it’s easier for me to do something. They are about
two miles off English Harbour.
The yacht club Social Secretary comes in to see me as I have indicated there
seems to be a slight overlapping of roles in areas of yachting. She stays for
about an hour and I’m not sure we resolved anything other than to agree that
there is a lot to be done to regenerate the racing at the club. As a result of the
meeting I e-mail the Commodore and Secretary with a series of items I would
like to raise at the next Board meeting.
I have to go to a tourism conference at two but get rather held up in traffic plus I
had to do a delivery to Jolly Harbour on the way. I am fifteen minutes late but,
fortunately, that doesn’t matter in Antigua as the conference hasn’t started when
I arrive. It’s somewhat different from what I expected in that a consultant has
been invited to get opinions on tourism from tourist related companies. I am not
sure that I can contribute very much as I haven’t been here very long and, to a
large degree, our business is not directly affected by tourism. In fact, the
afternoon is a bit tedious and, I suspect, will change nothing. Despite turning
my ‘phone off, it rings during the meeting. I cut the call off and turn the ‘phone
off again. Half an hour later, it rings again. I know I turned it off the second
time and it must be turning itself on again.

One of the calls was from our solicitor. I had heard she had acted for the
previous buyer of the house in which we are interested. I want to know why the
previous purchaser pulled out. Apparently, they pulled as a result of the amount
of work to be done.
No sign of ACT to install the wi-fi at home. Presumably it’s one of those
tomorrows which never comes.
The Tot is on Tenacious which is back in harbour. Mariella V is also berthed in
the harbour and it’s possible to get some idea, alongside other boats, her true
proportions. She’s huge but not particularly graceful.
After the Tot we go to the yacht club for the ‘games’ evening. Lindsay decides
not to play chess but I make up a four for bridge. I only get one biddable hand
all evening but my partner has nothing so we are out bid by the other pair
although we do succeed in getting the others ‘down’ on a couple of occasions.
Day 245 – Friday. The dogs need to go to the vet to be neutered and I make an
appointment for Monday morning. Apparently, they will be all done and dusted
by lunch time. I also ring the girl with the house who is now back in the country.
She is surprised we haven’t heard from her solicitor. Apparently, there are no
problems with the sale.
An agent rings and offers us a couple of plots at the top of the hill behind where
we currently live. I tell her the price she’s asking is ludicrous and give her the
prices of other nearby plots. She immediately tells me that the owner is
negotiable. He would have to be very negotiable.
It’s back to the grindstone of getting all these letters out and it’s a tedious job.
Lindsay has gone to a Board meeting of the Amazing Grace Foundation. When
she returns we are both hungry so she goes downstairs to order a pizza despite
the fact that we have both had lunch. It’s these very early starts to the day.
I manage to get the first batch of letters completed. Ninety two in all. Only
about another two hundred to go and they take about two minutes each.
Lindsay has a ‘hen’ party to go to at five thirty. We agree to meet at Calabash
later. It Geoffrey’s birthday so the drinks are coming thick and fast and Bill
Dunn seems to be up for a bit of a session. Mike Bright, the guy from the U.K.
appears for the Tot and is very drunk. He has obviously decided not to fly back
to the U.K..
Day 246 – Saturday. Lindsay goes for a run and I take the dogs for a walk. I
decide to take them to the top of the hill where the building plot is situated. It’s
a steep climb and for once I don’t mind the dogs pulling. It’s not so much fun on
the way down. The dogs nearly pull me over twice, also the dogs from three

neighbouring houses are well awake and not too keen on strangers invading
their territory. Our two are very brave with chain link fence separating them
from half a dozen snarling animals.
Lindsay and I discuss buying both the plot and the house and agree to give it a
try. At worst, we can sell the house later although we think it might be worth
keeping as an investment. We decide to drive up to the plot in Lindsay’s car.
She is concerned it won’t make the steep climb. It does it without difficulty.
Lindsay is totally sold on the view. It is certainly the best we have seen in
Antigua. Both Montserrat and Guadeloupe are clearly visible and, being so
high, the breeze is quite cool. Air conditioning may not be a necessity.
We are invited to Mike and Anne’s with a few others for Sangria and a selection
of cheeses from one o’clock. We arrive at two including dogs as this is where
they were found and Mike likes to see them from time to time. A big mistake.
Firstly, in order to keep them quiet, we have to hold them on their leads all the
time which rather restricts what we can do. Secondly, Nelson, the dog which
replaced the poisoned Nuisance, is not keen on our dogs. He has attacked
Sunny once before in the street but Mike had said he would shut Nelson away.
He hasn’t. Partway through the afternoon Nelson has a go at Sunny and
Lindsay gets in the way. Later he has a go at Nissan and this time draws blood
not only from Nissan but also from another guest’s foot. It’s time to leave.
We go to the Tot later but only stay for one drink and go home to watch a video.
It’s one recorded from the television and it evidently ran over when being
recorded because the film is followed by an ancient episode of Eastenders. I
thought I had escaped all that but Lindsay is in seventh heaven.
Day 247 – Sunday. I am up early as we are out of diesel and if we don’t get any
we will run out of electricity, also I am short of petrol so I can kill two birds with
one stone. Fortunately, Slipway opens at eight so I can get it from there rather
than drive to All Saints in the middle of the island.
Keep Fit is back in full swing and we meet at the Galley Bar at ten. Someone
has given the Tot Club an all singing, all dancing weedwhacker and, for some
reason, I always get the responsibility for the mechanical things, Yesterday, I
was given the hand book to read so I thought I’d better glance at it. It’s
American so 95% is concerned with safety and practically nothing about its
operation. The harness even has a one foot diameter red circle on the back
telling people not to come within fifty feet. If it’s that dangerous how come the
operator doesn’t come to any harm? The area we are clearing is very
overgrown with thick, course grass which an ordinary weedwhacker will not
tackle. This new one has interchangeable heads and I use something which
looks like a rotary saw. It’s quite heavy, hence the harness and it vibrates a lot.
So much so that a screw holding on one of the handles vibrates loose and falls
out to be lost forever. Despite this, it’s very good at carving through the
undergrowth but I am almost relieved when it runs out of petrol with only a little

left to do. I walk back to the car to get some more only to realise Lindsay has
my keys. I head off to find her only to discover everyone is giving up.
Apparently, the first of the Atlantic rowers is about to cross the finish line at the
entrance to English Harbour. From the top of Shirley Heights we, literally, have
a birds eye view.
Returning to the Dockyard, the rowers are in and there’s quite a crowd to greet
them including, I am please to see, the Marine Liaison Officer and the Minister
of Tourism. I have the petition in my car and this will save me a drive to St.
John’s. I hand the petition to the Marine Liaison Officer and, later, have a brief
word with the Minister of Tourism but I doubt much will come of it.
Lindsay wants a cheeseburger from the Galley bar but I suggest it will take a
day and a half to come. The Galley Bar service is not the swiftest at the best of
times let alone with this crowd. Even the Minister of Tourism gets fed up
waiting for a drink and leaves. We keep being bought drinks and Lindsay
complains that she could have had a cheeseburger. I point to someone who
ordered one ages ago and is leaving in disgust but agree that we will buy one at
Sweet T’s on the way home. They are not very good and half of mine goes into
the dogs’ dinner.
We decide against going to the Tot. Four drinks at lunch time are enough,
although the first two were essential to me recovering any form of equilibrium
after the vibrations of the weedwhacker, and we have to be up early tomorrow
to take the dogs to the vet in St. John’s by seven thirty. They are having their
bits chopped off or out, depending on the sex.
Day 248 – Monday. We set off for St. John’s at seven, the dogs a bit puzzled
as they have neither had their breakfast nor a walk. We arrive at the vet’s just
after seven thirty where the dogs are given a sedative injection and put into
cages. The sedative is obviously not quick acting as they seem as lively as
ever when we leave. We are to collect them at twelve. The cost of having them
done is around EC$600 so a trip to the bank on the way home is necessary to
collect some cash. The traffic going into St. John’s as we leave, is horrendous.
Gridlock has taken on an all new meaning. Police have taken over directing
traffic and I’m not sure whether they are helping or hindering the situation.
Having spent a couple of hours in the office, I collect Lindsay at eleven thirty
and we go back to pick up the dogs, dropping some dry cleaning in on the way.
The system in the dry cleaners is very efficient, they ask for my telephone
number and all my details appear on the screen. I have come across this in
one or two other businesses here and it is something which could be usefully
employed in businesses in the U.K..
We debate whether to battle our way into St. John’s an go to the main post
office to collect a parcel which arrived on 29 th December but about which we
have only just been informed. We decide we haven’t the time and, anyway, it’s

almost certain Customs will have gone for an early lunch and not be back for
two hours.
As we arrive at the vet’s we can hear Nissan howling. We presume he has
heard the car arrive but the vet tells us he has been doing that ever since he
woke up. Sunny is in a cage looking very, very sorry for herself. When Nissan
is let out you wouldn’t think he had a care in the world although I notice he sits
down rather carefully. Sunny is obviously in pain and walks very gingerly. On
the way back in the car the dogs do not move which makes a change from
having them bounce around everywhere.
As we are driving into Falmouth, the ‘phone rings. It’s the owner of the house
we have agreed to buy. We have been gazumped. I say I will ring back. After
dropping Lindsay at home and having some lunch I ring the owner of the house
and have a bit of a moan about being let down telling her that there was another
property we were offered after we had agreed to buy her’s but hadn’t gone for it
as we had committed ourselves to her and the other property is now sold. Not
entirely true but a good sob story. She says that if we match the other offer she
will stand by us. I ring Lindsay and she agrees we should.
Back in the office I try to sort out the solicitors and also ring the agents
regarding the plot of land. We agree to meet at four tomorrow. I do some more
research into the plot and the prices and I am beginning to realise that the
agents have directed me to the wrong piece of land. The person I have been
dealing with has never seen the plot, however, the piece they are selling is, in
many ways preferable to the piece we had looked at except it not quite so high
and the views aren’t quite as stunning but then that would have been
impossible.
Lindsay decides not to join me for the Tot and I fall in amongst ‘thieves’.
Graeme and Derek have just returned from Montserrat and Derek has been at
the airport for eight hours looking for his luggage and has missed his connecting
flight to St. Lucia so is stuck on the island until he can get another flight out.
Graeme and Bill have just come from a five hour ‘lunch’ and try to lead me
astray, semi-successfully.
When I get home in the evening Sunny is little better and we tuck her up in an
old towel and settle her down in the kennel for the night. She is still looking very
miserable.
Day 249 – Tuesday. A good night’s rest has obviously done Sunny a world of
good. She is up on the bench on the veranda and almost her sprightly self.
She is still moving a bit gingerly and eats her breakfast rather slowly. Too
slowly for Nissan who tries to take an interest. A fierce growl soon sends him
packing. It’s strange, they won’t share food but as soon as they have both
finished they immediately swap bowls to make sure neither has left anything
and then lick each others faces in case there are any crumbs left on the outside.

I have Radio 4 playing on the computer when Lindsay comes in. She wants to
make some telephone calls and asks me to turn it off. Fortunately, it’s the
afternoon play (mid-morning here) and not very good. Despite having been an
avid Radio 4 listener in the U.K., it was more the morning programmes which
appealed to me and I get mainly the afternoon ones and I’m not going into the
office in the middle of the night to get the morning programmes. Another
problem is the intermittent internet connection in Antigua. The radio
programmes are interspersed by periods of silence.
Mike Bright turns up in the office trying to persuade me to give him some work.
The problem is that it would take him ten times as long to do things as he
doesn’t know his way around. I say I will think about it. He also wants some
accommodation for his family when they arrive. I make a few telephone calls
and find something but as he is dependent upon the timing of the arrival of his
son who is rowing the Atlantic, he can’t fix a date. I think he’s going to have to
take ‘pot luck’ nearer the time.
Callie sends me an e-mail telling me she is resigning as the All at Sea
representative in Antigua. I feel it might fit in with what we are doing and send
an e-mail to the owner. He telephones me and seems to think we might be able
to do something together. He has one other person to talk to. It turns out to be
Tracy. By coincidence Callie turns up in the office as does Ann-Maria, neither
of whom have I seen since we tidied up the detail of the Marine Expo.
At four I go to meet the agent at the two plot of land but no one turns up. I wait
until ten to five and then go back to the office and give the agent my opinion of
her efficiency. I tell her that if I had behaved in the U.K. the way agents do here
I would have been bankrupt in five minutes. She tells me the plot is sold. When
I ask which one the two plots mysteriously now become one. When I ask what
happened to the other one she says the owner has decided not to sell and she
doesn’t know the price the other one sold for. I suspect they never had the land
for sale at all. We have come across this a few times. An agent will be asked
to do an appraisal of a property or land and then, without instructions, they
place the property on the market at an inflated price in the hope that if they get
an offer the owner will sell. I would imagine this owner found out and told them
to take the land off the market.
I pick up Lindsay and we go to the Tot and then on to David’s for dinner.
Day 250 – Wednesday. Lindsay takes Nissan for a walk but leaves Sunny
behind because she will probably strain herself as she always pulls on the lead.
Sunny is absolutely distraught. Even a dog biscuit does not console her which
she scatters around the house as she tries to eat it, running from the front door
to the veranda and back again.

A local agent tells me of yet another building plot for sale and offers to show it to
me. We agree to go at eleven thirty. Lindsay arrives in the office just before we
leave. She has to go somewhere near the plot so we arrange to meet there.
The plot is good but not quite good enough. Nearby is a much better one and I
tell the agent that if he can get that one for sale we would definitely be
interested. The views are over the Atlantic Ocean and there is a steady, strong
breeze. The seas are much rougher than on the Caribbean side and look more
dramatic as is the general scenery.
On our way back I collect Derek’s luggage which has been stored since it was
recovered from being lost at the airport. I am driving him and Graeme to the
airport at three.
I finally get all the mailings sorted and having arranged to collect Graeme and
Derek from the Galley Bar I head into the Dockyard. There must be half a
dozen cruise ships in as it’s crowded with tourists. If one ever needed a reason
not to go on a cruise ship one only has to look at this unprepossessing bunch.
I want to drop something into one of the businesses on the way to the airport
and pull into their car park. Adjacent is a small supermarket. Whilst I am gone
(no more than two minutes) Derek has disappeared into the supermarket. He
has a habit of wandering off at the slightest opportunity a bit like an errant child.
I seek him out and he is standing in a long queue holding two bottles of Suzie’s
Hot Sauce. I point out he can buy them at the airport.
I drop them off and go about some other deliveries. The traffic is dreadful.
Quite a lot of businesses knock off at four. I give up trying to get to various
places and head straight into town where I am planning to collect a survey
report from the solicitors on the house we are, hopefully, buying. There is a
rumour it has some structural faults. I haven’t been able to find any but a
second opinion would be useful. The report reveals nothing which I haven’t
already spotted.
I have my first yacht club meeting and, when I arrive, it’s mentioned that the
Secretary is ill. I have a pad with me and am asked to take notes. I must
remember to leave the pad behind next time. The meeting proceeds in a very
similar manner to those at Brighton although there seems to be more forward
planning than at Brighton where most people tended to report on what they had
done rather than what they were going to do. There are still a few people who
have a habit of dragging in a load of irrelevancies but the new Commodore is
quite good at getting people back onto the subject under discussion. The
meeting takes about three hours and I manage to get my proposals accepted. I
raise one controversial subject which falls under my remit, the yacht club dock.
It’s supposed to be for the use of all members for up to a maximum period of
three days at any one time, however, some boats are there permanently and all
but one belong to members of the Board. I point out that some club member
thing this is a bit unfair and I suggest I produce a report to address the problem.

There are a few people who are evidently not happy with the idea that they may
lose their free moorings but, as I point out, other club members are not happy
with the current situation.
The meeting breaks up after about three hours and, of the nine of us there, six
remain for a drink, apparently for the first time in recent history. Normally
everyone goes straight home.
Day 251 – Thursday. As I have to type up my notes from yesterday and have a
load of things to do before I leave tomorrow including approving the Race
Instructions for Round the Island Race which takes place on the last weekend
of the month, I get into the office earlier than usual to be greeted by a pile of e-
mails which rather negates my early start.
It takes me over an hour to transcribe my scribbles into something sensible I
can call the minutes of last night’s meeting. Once done I e-mail them to the
club. Later Lindsay tells me Tim Wall has rung to offer advice on how to write
minutes. Having written hundreds and read thousands of minutes I think I know
what I am doing although, having thought the yacht club minutes a bit stilted
and uninformative, I put a little more information in mine. Maybe the club likes
to keep its meetings secretive.
We still have over two hundred letters to deliver and Lindsay sets off to do
English Harbour whilst I do Falmouth and the outlying areas of St. John’s. I
have not gone more than half a mile before I run into Mike Bright who has been
trying to persuade me to let him do some work. I tell him I might have
something for him on Monday and to speak to Lindsay while I’m away. Partway
through my deliveries I call into the bank to pay some cheques in. One of them
is a U.S. dollar account drawn on an American bank. We have had several
cheques on American banks and I have heard they take a long time to clear. I
ask and am told it’s four to six weeks. Apparently, the delay is in the U.S. not in
Antigua. It makes me wonder whether it’s worthwhile taking credit cards.
The Tot is at the Copper & Lumber for the first time in about a year. We discuss
holding it there on a more regular basis which seems a popular move. Bill Dunn
leads us astray and we end up at Life which is now an Indian restaurant. It
doesn’t seem over popular but the staff are very active in trying to encourage
people to eat. We debate it but decide not to which transpires into being a
mistake. I am in deep conversation with Tim Wall so Lindsay sets off for home
to prepare dinner. Ten minutes later I get an agonised call from Lindsay. The
house is full of feathers. I suspect a bird has got in but, as Lindsay has a
completely irrational fear of feathers I leave immediately.
When I arrive home I find it’s not a bird but a cushion from one of the veranda
chairs which the dogs have torn apart. The feathers in the house have come in
through some unscreened openings. The veranda is reminiscent of a snow

storm and the breeze is swirling the feathers everywhere. It’s an almost
impossible task to clear them up. The dogs are not popular.
Day 252 – Friday. In the daylight the garden looks like the aftermath of a
chicken coop after the fox has been in. Sandy appears and makes some
comment about the poor bird. The feathers are white and the same colour as
the egrets which are the most common bird here. He jumps to the obvious
conclusion. Lindsay says ‘Poor cushion’ and explains what has happened.
Sandy wants me to collect an engine coupling for his boat from the London Boat
Show.
Amongst my e-mails is one from Rob and Amanda, They have had a dreadful
trip from Dominica to St. Lucia and have decided to pull out of the Rally. They
are returning to Antigua for the Classic Regatta which occurs in late April. The
real disaster is that Teddy will no longer get his circumnavigation. Unbeknown
to Rod and Amanda, Teddy is scheduled to meet them in Panama but, now,
they won’t get there. I send them an e-mail telling them that there is a
distraught and lonely Teddy waiting for them in Panama. It will be interesting to
see how his travelling life pans out from here.
This is the last entry for a few days as I am about to fly back to the U.K.. I have
asked Lindsay to make the entries for the next few days so we will see what
happens.
Day 252 Friday– continued by Lindsay……
Bonjour Dear Diary readers. Welcome to my world, at a slightly more relaxed
pace I might add. Well ok, downright non moving and shaking as a complete
beach bum should be.
Anyway back to things. John, Debbie and Jason are safely at the airport. I have
one simple task, to deposit a large cheque at the bank before 4. At five to 4 I
park and walk to the door of the bank flicking to the current page of the paying
in book to sign and date the page. No cheque. Expletive..expletive. Retrace
steps to car, no cheque on car park floor, open car door, phone rings. Its John.
The plane is delayed for 2 hours, oh dear, I have lost a 10 grand cheque (EC$).
Bye dear while I panic a bit. Cheque not in car. Ok slow down. (oops sorry am
already going as slow as I can). Look through paying in book pages one at a
time, hoorah, cheque is hiding somewhere on a used page. Wonder how that
got there? With 2 minutes to go I rush to bank door (at a slow fast pace) and
safely deposit slippery little devil. That’s enough drama for me, I’m off home.
Back to feed the pups, run the generator and select a video for tonight’s
screening. Madly, Truly, Deeply me thinks. Videos are in the store room below
the house which is unfortunately now also full of feathers (not full, but enough)
so I move slowly so as not to disturb. This is very brave of someone with an
irrational fear. J rings again, can I send his final expo accounts to Stan the
ABMA man. Dinner is curry. Bed early.

Day 253 – Saturday
Up to feed and walk dogs then off for a long run to Shirley Heights. It piddles
with rain while I am out with dogs and they are covered in mud so I leave them
outside while I run. When I get back I decide to shower them with me (I am
worried about the dirt getting in their stitches) which is relatively successful and
stops them walking through any more mud on normal outside dog washing
route.
And now.. the moment you’ve all been waiting for.. off to the beach we go. Well
just me actually. Down to Galleon for a couple of hours and a quick swim. A
quiet afternoon reading, walk dogs, run generator. Piddled with rain again when
out with the dogs. Not so dirty this time. Not bloody washing them again,
stitches or no stitches.
Time for TOT. Reliably informed by J it is at Calabash, so when I arrive and
there is not a soul there, I did not curse him at all. (much) As I walk into the bar
there is actually a person wearing a tot shirt but I do not recognise him. At
stages between 5 to and 5 past six a few more people turn up and the ritual
proceeds-and the Queen, God bless her. I stay for a couple or 3 drinks and
toddle off home. No impromptu party mood excitement for me.
Dinner is pasta, al Dente with tomato sauce, turns out more like Ali Dante as it
boils dry.
Dogs drive me berserk, bickering constantly, Sunny alternately jumping on the
sofa and bed and being thrown off each time with a slap on the nose,
interspersed with Nissan snooping in the kitchen. Kick them out, manage to lock
myself out, remove mossie screen, climb back in the window and go to bed.
(U.K. bit) My ‘plane lands in London an hour late but I’m near the head of the
queue at Immigration and my bag comes off amongst the first – makes paying
the Premium fare worthwhile except that I have forgotten to get the cigarettes
from Jason and Debbie I have volunteered to carry through Customs for them
as I have none of my own. Guess what, they are about the last ones off the
‘plane and I hang around for about half an hour waiting for them.
First order of the day is a car. At the third hire car stall at the airport I find
something semi-respectable. A SAAB estate. It’s really just a Vauxhall in a
flash body and I soon learn it has some stupid Swedish idiosyncrasies such as
the ignition key by the gear lever and heating which turns itself off every time
you turn off the engine and a radio which resets itself to very low volume at the
same time and traffic news which cuts it just when you are listening to a critical
item. Worst of all – no ashtray so it’s window open and it’s raining. I should
have taken the Subaru Legacy.
I drive straight to the London Boat Show and am amazed how easy it is to get
there by car. In fact, I drive to the hotel I’m booked into in Docklands which is

supposed to be alongside the exhibition centre. Some people might call a mile
‘alongside’ but I don’t. I can’t book in until three so I park the car in the hotel car
park and walk, yes, I said ‘walk’ to the exhibition centre. First task is to find the
stand where I have to collect the engine parts for Sandy. I have left his diagram
and the name of the company in my luggage which is in the car but I can clearly
remember the plan he has drawn me. After a fruitless search I give up and
head back to the car, hitching a lift on a golf trolley which is running to and fro
between the show and one of the hotels. It gets me halfway back. Returning I
wait at the other hotel for a lift on the golf trolley but it doesn’t appear. I walk.
Back at the show I realise why I can’t find the stand where Sandy’s boat parts
are waiting to be collected. His map is upside down. The parts are very heavy
so I pay for them and agree to collect them later. Also, having lost one of my
sailing jackets in Brighton, the one with the R.O.R.C. logo on it, I had arranged
with the owner of Ocean World to have the logo stitched on my current jacket. I
have the usual row with the girls on the stand who say they are not permitted to
put R.O.R.C. logos on anything but their own clothing. This is rubbish and I tell
them so. I suggest they speak to the owner of the company or to R.O.R.C.. I
leave them with the jacket and say I will return in a hour.
Part of the reason for coming is to make some contacts with people in the
marine industry and this is semi-successful. I am supposed to be meeting up
with Mike Relling who is over from New Zealand but he has been called away
but he is going to be in Brighton on Tuesday so we agree to meet there. I run
into a few old faces and one thing I notice about people is how grey they all
look. I suppose it’s being used to seeing bronzed faces in Antigua. I have my
first real pint in eight months.
By three I am worn out and my jacket has been done so I collect Sandy’s bits
and head for the hotel where I crash out for a couple of hours. The hotel
restaurant is a bit dire so I jump in the car and drive around looking for
somewhere else to eat. The first place, a pub, is even more dire than the hotel.
Something which surprises me is that in amongst all this modernity there are
evidently still some of the old Eastenders identifiable by the greyhounds the are
trailing around.
I had noticed a small cruise liner permanently moored alongside the exhibition
centre and now converted to an hotel. It must have a restaurant so I go to have
meal. The restaurant is good and when I come to pay I am asked for my room
number. I don’t have one. The restaurant is for hotel guests only. I wondered
why, when I got in the lift, why the other person in the lift used a card in a slot to
get the lift moving. I now know. Unfortunately, they are prepared to accept my
cash.
I try watching television in the hotel, a programme on the Battle of Trafalgar but
can’t keep my eyes open.

Day 254- Sunday
Lie in till 7.30 then feed and walk dogs. Hang out washing, avoiding killer
feathers which have collected under the house in a big seething mass waiting to
swirl up in the breeze and attack me. Will have to have a word with J about his
feather cleaning skills when he gets back.
Charlie rings at 9.30. I had agreed last night to go with her today to Half Moon
Bay, which is a great (as in brill, but is also quite big) crescent shaped sandy
beach on the Atlantic side of the Island. (see Isle of Wighters, we really can say
“The Island”).
We agree on 11am start and to pick up some nibbles on the way. I decide to
take some lager, a bottle of lemonade, a couple of bananas and some Nachos.
I arrive promptly, at five past 11, to discover my pathetic offerings have been
outdone by an a cheese dip, cheese and onion flan, salad, home grown
papaya, a bottle of rum punch, 2 bottles of wine and a bottle of water, all nicely
chilled in a cool box. My stomach gives little rumbles of excitement.
Off we go. Charlie puts on her seat belt after a few minutes of driving. Not quite
sure what that means. Beach is not too busy. We find a little spot with a shady
grotto under the trees with a bench and throw down our towels and spend a few
hours swimming and sunbathing. Apparently there is another secluded beach
around the end of the bay called Mill Reef. To get to it you have to walk along a
precipitous ledge whilst dodging rock falls and gigantic Atlantic waves. Slight
exaggeration, but we give it a miss because the path is a bit dodgy today and
the sea a bit rough.
How odd, a crowd of people have surged onto the beach along near the car
park. They disperse slowly (that’s the spirit) and some head our way, some the
other end of the beach. As they draw nearer we see Chinese people, no
sorry…Chinese men lots of them, all dressed in long sleeved shirts, long
trousers and laced up shoes, all men, about 150. And not a camera between
them. Beeeezar. Charlie is beside herself with curiosity. As she has chatted to
practically every person on our end of the beach all the time we have been here
it does not surprise me when she asked every Chinese man as they pass, if
they speak English. Even the two holding hands. The reply is always the same.
“no Engrish, Chinese”. No kidding.
As we pack up and head for the car, a small splinter group have huddled and
stripped to their underpants. Presumably to swim, but not attractive in any
language. Can’t wait to see if the fat guy with the white ones comes out of the
water like those magic pens with the fully clothed figure on that you tip up and
their clothes become transparent, ‘now you see him, now you d… ugh, now you
SEE him. Yep, can wait. Let’s go.
Drop Charlie at home with a lighter cool box and head for the office. Don’t panic
folks. Wanted to ring the family back home on the computer as my cell phone
does not have enough credit. (Am learning to speak American). (cell phone…
for those of you scratching your heads). But typically the internet line is down so
unsuccessful. Instead sort out the deliveries for Mike Bright for tomorrow. He is
taking the St John’s letters, so I put them in street order.

Back home to feed and walk puppies. Run generator. Do you see a pattern
forming? Pasta for dins (woah, now becoming predictable) and a repeat
performance of last nights doggie fiasco plus a couple of squelchy bottom
burps. (them not me). One thing I turned around to see has worried me a bit.
Sunny has a habit of following me around and every so often grabbing one of
my legs from behind like a little monkey hugging a tree. Very cute but makes it
difficult to walk. Usually I just shake her off but when I looked round yesterday
she is making little thrusting movements with her bum, trying to hump my leg.
Puppy love.
(More U.K. bits) Awake at six I wander down for breakfast. It’s Continental.
Rather than eat it I book out and head for Brighton stopping at Pease Pottage
for full traditional English. The bacon is superb.
Arriving in Brighton just after nine I consider going to the yacht club. I’m sure I
could cadge a ride on a yacht but I don’t have the right clothes. The sea looks
terrific. All murky and rough. It reminds me of what I miss about sailing. I meet
up with my two daughters in Portslade and they come with me to the yacht club
at lunch time. It’s nice to see all the old faces. I congratulate the new
Commodore on his election and he tells me that the Club hasn’t appointed a
new president which means I am still the President. It appears, after all, that I
didn’t get my eleven days as not being an official of any club.
Tina is somewhat critical of my diary. I threaten to strike her off the list. One or
two other say they don’t have time to read it all. Maybe it is a bit long. Graeme
arrives with Debbie and I am able to divest myself of the cigarettes I carried
through Customs.
Alex wants me to drive her to her mother’s house in Lindfield and, as my
parents only live down the road, I drop her off. I discover that my parent’s don’t
know I am in the U.K. so I arrive unannounced. They are out. I return an hour
later and, for a moment, my mother doesn’t recognise me. Senile dementia is
definitely setting in, particularly in my father.
Day 255-Monday
Awake at 2.30 am, 4.30, 5.00, 5.30 up at six. Dog trip to the vets to remove
stitches. Arrive about 7.30, vet does the deed without too much fuss and we
depart. Nissan is sick in the back of my car on the way home. I am grateful we
do not live on a boat.
In the office by 8.45, almost unheard of nowadays, but Mike Bright is coming to
do some deliveries for us today in St John’s so better to get him off early. The
car hire company only has one car left which I am sure is going to be very
expensive. Mikes son only has 900 miles to go on his Atlantic row. Fool.
Off to deliver some final letters to advertisers and some more guides for the
tourists.
Back home as I pull up to the driveway two cute little baby goats at the top of
the road raise their heads and look at me, one brown and white the other black

and white, hang on same colour as the pups. Shit, they are the pups, park car
quickly and luckily dogs bound down to greet me and come in the house with no
fuss. Am too relieved they did not run off and get lost to reprimand them.
Walk them and run generator. Then down to TOT. A nicer night with a few
people back that have been away. Mike Rose has had another disaster with his
dogs. He came home to discover they had been in his cellar and devoured a
packet of rat poison. No obvious reactions but they take them to the vet. The
antidote is vitamin K, which they need to take for a while. This will stop them
eventually bleeding to death internally.
The plans are being made for Burns night. Hope John has remembered the
Haggis. At one stage I volunteer him to address it on the night but somebody
suggests another duty as he doesn’t even like the stuff.
I head for home about 8 feeling a bit worse for wear, not having drunk that
much and go straight to bed.
(U.K. again) A long, long shopping list. Haggis for Burns Night I am told I can
get from Waitrose. A very helpful lady directs me to the ‘haggis stand’. There
are only seven and I have been asked to buy ten. Marks and Spencer must sell
them. They do and, fortunately, have just three but they are an entirely different
colour. I add the largest pork pie I can find. A requirement for any Tot Club
member returning from the U.K..
An e-mail from Lindsay tells me Nissan has thrown up in the car. I e-mail back
to ask ‘who’s car?’ Fortunately, it’s hers.
In Haywards Heath I call in at a couple of offices where some old friends work.
One of them is coming to Antigua at the end of March so I give him my Antigua
telephone numbers. Also, my doctor is coming out on Saturday so I drop off a
card with my numbers.
I call in at my old office to see how they are getting on. Not much has changed.
A brief visit to the bank and more shopping concludes the day.
Day 256 – Tuesday
Up late, walk dogs late, a big mistake as there is too much traffic around, and
Nissan wants to chase them all.
At 11 I go off to Tony and Moyas for a chess match with a bottle of vino as they
are proving lunch. Win both games and enjoy pumpkin soup, and some cheese
and bread.
Pop into the office and check e mails. No bugger sent me any. Sent one for
John that I was supposed to do Saturday and forgot. Picked up some things to
do tomorrow.
Back to walk dogs and run generator, do some washing, hang it out and dodge
killer feathers.
Quiet night in tonight, dinner and watch a vid

(U.K.) Visit the accountant and finish the shopping then to my parents to meet
up with my middle sister. The family have been trying to persuade them to get
some help and they are resisting it. I am lending my weight to their arguments.
My message service rings and there are four messages, three from my father
from Christmas day. He had been ringing my U.K. mobile number when I was
in Antigua. Definitely senile dementia.
As I am due to meet Mike Relling at the yacht club where he is giving a talk I
ring my daughter, Alex, and say I will pick her up at her office and take her
home where I can say goodbye to her and Anouska.
At the yacht club about a hundred people turn up for Mike Relling’s talk. I had
agreed to meet a number of friends at the club thinking the talk would be short
and not many people would attend. Mike and Jacqui turn up with their young
son. Jacqui is expecting again. It’s too crowded in the club so, with John
Burton, we go to a bar where the baby is allowed in and then, later, back to the
club. I don’t get out until getting on for eleven.
Day 257 – Wednesday
D-day, or JD –day as the old bugger is home today. Up and do dog stuff, fry up
for breckie. Potter round house and set off about 11.30 to town. If I do all the
post and pick up some bits and shopping I should be about right to pick John
up.
Typical, everything goes smoothly and I am done by one o’clock, JD does not
get in ‘til 2.10pm, so take shopping home and have a quick bite to eat.
Phone rings at 2, guess who is at airport? Where am I? Why is everything early
today? Jump in the car with pups and pick him up.
(U.K. and Antigua) Up at five thirty to get to the airport I just about get
everything in my bag. Arriving at the airport at six thirty I return the SAAB,
spraying the inside with Fabrise to kill the smell of cigar smoke. The car is
inspected and I am told there is some damage to the front valance. I have a
look and the damage is what I had thought were mud streaks when I picked up
the car. I tell them that I am not accepting responsibility for the damage. It
takes about an hour to sort out.
In the departures lounge there is no sign of my flight being called so I go and
have breakfast. When I have finished I look at the screen to see my flight is
listed as ‘gate closing’. The gate is a long way away. I rush down and there are
only about half a dozen people still to board. We take off on time and, because
of good tail winds, we are expected to arrive half an hour early.
New Customs forms require me to declare whether I am bringing in any food
products. On the basis I might be searched, I tick the ‘Yes’ box. I have too
much other ‘contraband’ to risk getting caught out although I have unpacked
everything from their boxes and scattered them around my bag but there’s no
disguising the cigars which I have packed amongst my dirty washing in the

hope that it won’t be investigated too closely. Also, I think that if I can distract
the customs Officer with the haggis he might not notice the other items.
We land thirty five minutes early and I am second through Immigration now,
legally, able to use the ‘locals’ queue. All my information is on their computer
so it only takes a couple of minutes rather than the usual ten. I try ringing
Lindsay but as I connect my bag, the third one on the carrousel, appears so I
cut the call an grab my bag and put it on a porters trolley. We head for
Customs and I try Lindsay again but can’t get through. I am first at Customs.
The Customs Officer looks at my form and asks why I have ticked ‘Yes’ to the
food question. I explain I have ten Haggis’s in my bag. He looks puzzled. I tell
him a Haggis is a strange Scottish sausage and the Scots like to eat them on
26th January. He asks why the 26 th ? I explain Burns Night. He still looks
puzzled and asks me a few questions about what I was doing in the U.K. then
waves me through without opening my bag. My distraction technique has
worked.
Outside, I manage to get hold of Lindsay. She is still at home, half an hour
away. She hadn’t checked on the flight arrival times and didn’t realise the
‘plane was early. My success at getting through quickly, as with my arrival in
the U.K., came to nought as I wait for Lindsay to arrive.
Lindsay has the dogs in the car and Sunny will not stop licking the back of my
neck and my ears. Halfway home Nissan is looking near the end of his
tolerance to motion sickness so I suggest we stop for a bit and I take the dogs
for a short walk. Lindsay says I look most strange walking the dogs in my suit.
Why am I wearing a suit? Because there’s no room in my bag for it.
Lindsay asks if I have her trainers. I tell her that in the last e-mail she sent me
she told me not bother. Apparently, she sent me another one with all the details
but I didn’t receive it.
At the Tot I hand over the pork pie and the ten haggis, explaining the difference
in colour as being due to being purchased in different shops. I am entirely
wrong. Mike Rose reads the labels on the Waitrose haggis’s and tells me they
are vegetarian. We decide to keep quiet about it. I suggest to Lindsay we go
and have a pizza rather than go home and cook. I have my first taste of slow
Antiguan service and get a bit impatient. We have ordered two glasses of wine
and they take fifteen minutes to arrive. When they do I ask how long the pizzas
will take to arrive and I’m told half an hour. We haven’t touched our wine but I
say we will pay for them and leave. The manager rushes out and says he will
get our pizzas in a few minutes so we sit down again and they arrive almost
immediately. I suspect we got someone else’s. Bill Dunn and another friend,
Patsy, join us, both hugging their chilled red wine glasses trying to warm them
up. I had asked for my wine to come from a bottle not chilled.

Although I haven’t drunk that much I think a combination of a few drinks and
being rather tired I find I am struggling to drive safely and stop the car and ask
Lindsay to take over.
Day 258 – Thursday. I stay in bed while Lindsay goes for a run and then takes
the dogs for a walk. Before she’s back I start the breakfast, making coffee in
the new cafetia I ‘smuggled’ through Customs. I drift into the office around ten,
receiving a call on the way to pick up a cheque from a customer. Lindsay hasn’t
been able to collect much in my absence.
There are piles of e-mails but the one Lindsay sent me still hasn’t arrived. Also,
I have several answerphone messages both on the office ‘phone and my
mobile. Two of the e-mails are from ACT billing us for December’s internet
service at home which we paid for a year in advance but is still not installed and
one of the telephone messages is from ACT asking if they can come and install
the internet. When I make contact with them to try to arrange an appointment
they say they will call me back.
More cheques have come in so Lindsay comes into the office to take them to
the bank and chase other late payers. We are still owed nearly EC$100,000.
Mike Bright, the guy from Haywards Heath who Lindsay sent delivering on
Monday, appears in the office to tell me of his exploits and wants me to do
some publicity for the Atlantic rowers. He’s trying to set up a race around
English Harbour to raise funds for charity. I suggest I will do the artwork but not
the printing.
The Round the Island race due this weekend has been postponed due to a bad
weather forecast. The wind is now blowing between thirty and forty knots with
squally showers. I send an e-mail to the yacht club asking if there is anything I
need to do. I get a reply telling me to get myself a boat and encourage a few
more boats to join in.
I get a reply from our solicitor to my enquiry as to the state of our property
purchase. She hasn’t done anything. I begin to wonder whether I ought to do it
myself.
The Tot is at the Copper & Lumber which is now becoming a bit run down.
Lindsay says it reminds her of an old fashioned English pub. I think it’s more
like an old British Rail station buffet.
It’s freezing at night. The wind is howling and I have to get up in the middle of
the night to put on a dressing gown to try to keep warm. Lindsay still seems to
be resisting the use of a duvet believing a sheet is sufficient. It isn’t.
Day 259 – Friday. The wind is still blowing a gale and the rain in the intermittent
showers is horizontal. We have to shut the veranda door as the water is

eaching across to the other end of the living room. In the bedroom, the
mosquito netting on the windows is turning the rain into a fine mist spray. I
close the windows.
When Lindsay arrives in the office she turns off the air conditioning saying it’s
too cold. I remind her that, without a duvet, that’s how I felt last night.
The ‘phone rings. It’s Lindsay on her way back from St. John’s. She tells me
her oil warning light has come on and she asks if she can continue driving. I tell
her to stop immediately. She says I will have to come to her and sort out the
problem. As I am leaving the office she rings again to say the car appears to be
overheating. I drive to the nearest chandlery and buy two litres of oil and a
gallon of water from the supermarket next door.
When I get to Lindsay and check the oil it seems okay but I put in a litre for
safety sake. It would appear that the engine got so hot that the oil thinned down
enough to set off the low pressure sensor.
I then check the water which is boiling over and I start to top it up. Steam shoots
out of the top of the radiator. A local appears and suggests we run the engine
as I fill the radiator. This has the dramatic affect of sending a fountain of boiling
water all over the engine. When everything settles down I use three quarters of
a gallon of water in the radiator. Lindsay tells me the car had been overheating
a bit on a previous occasion and she had topped up the header tank. I tell her
that she should always top up the radiator rather than the header tank. She
heads home and I go back to work.
Bad news at the Tot. Calabash and all the holiday bungalows at Galleon Beach
are to be demolished in September and replaced by a one hundred bedroom
hotel. It’s a disaster for Mike and Pam who have built up a very good trade over
the past nine months.
Lindsay and I decide to try the new Indian restaurant at Life but it’s a bit of a
disappointment.
Day 260 – Saturday. Having rescued the duvet from the store room, I definitely
needed it in the night. It was windy with torrential rain and quite cold. The
morning starts off the same. It’s just as well the Round the Island Race has
been postponed. By nine the weather clears a bit and I start on the installation
of my reverse parking sensors. I come back into the house after ten minutes
and Lindsay asks if I have finished. I have managed to get one wire from the
front of the car to the back. With another six wires to install and to fix the
sensor into the bumper I suggest I may be at it a little longer. The drill bit
supplied to cut the holes for the sensors is only designed to go through plastic
and my plastic bumpers are backed by steel plate. The largest drill bit I have is
just too small and it takes me about half an hour to ream the holes out to the

ight size. One drill burning out in the process and I get an electric shock as I
swap over drills. The extension lead has been lying on the wet grass.
As the rain seems to be holding off, Lindsay decides to drive the dogs to Shirley
Heights for a walk but, before going, checks her radiator. It takes another pint
of water. She tells me she can see water dripping out from underneath. I point
out that it has been raining but have a look anyway. She’s right. There seems
to be a leak from the water pump. Lindsay has only been gone ten minutes
when the heavens open. Fortunately, I have just completed the wiring from the
bumper to the inside of the car. I finally finish just before three.
Lindsay is off to the cinema with Charlie, Connie and Stephanie. Lindsay is not
sure what they are seeing as Connie thinks it’s one film and Charlie another. At
the tot we guess it must be a ‘chick flick’ but it turns out to be Tales of Narnia.
Not my kind of film.
Rumours get around this island faster than in a Women’s Union. Last night I
mentioned to Pam at Calabash, after their bad news, that the lease on the Last
Lemming is coming available in May. This was news to Mike and Pam who felt
it might solve their problem of premises. Today, Pam tells me that one of her
staff has heard from Joanne, who owns the Last Lemming, that she and Mike
are taking it over.
Much of the discussion at the Tot is about boats which have dragged their
anchors in the strong winds including Len’s and he is away in the U.S.. It’s
ended up in the mangroves and everyone feels it’s safer to leave it their and
await his return on Monday.
Somebody is opening our gate and letting the dogs out. We suspect it’s one of
the kids from next door. I find a wire strop in the store room and a padlock
which should prevent the little buggers from doing it again but is a bit of a
nuisance for us.
Despite having prepared dinner and put it in the oven before I went out, I still
get to do the washing up.
Day 261 – Sunday. Due to the bad weather Keep Fit is cancelled so Lindsay
goes for a run and I get to walk the dogs. Overnight I had a thought about how
we can get around the delays in obtaining the Non-residents Landholders
Licence. I wonder whether a very long term lease with an option to purchase is
covered by the licence. Walking the dogs, I think out the details and, on my
return, out pen to paper or, rather, fingers to the keyboard. I will present my
draft agreement to the solicitors tomorrow and see what they have to say.
All my plans for improving dog security in the garden come to nought as the rain
persists on and off all day and, by lunch time we decide to take advantage of a
prize we won in a charity raffle, brunch at the Last Lemming. It’s still raining

and we manage to grab the only remaining inside table. We order some drinks
which is not included in our ‘free brunch’ and, in view of the pressure on tables,
we give ours up as soon as we have finished eating and take our drinks to the
bar. When we come to pay for the drinks the owner waives the charge
presumably because we gave up our table.
On our way back home we look in at the house we are trying to buy. A
neighbour seems to have decided to build an extension to her house and is
using the drive as a store for her building materials also the delivery lorry has
made an even bigger mess of the drive. I only just get back up it using low ratio
four wheel drive.
With not being able to do anything outside for the rest of the day it’s reading and
a video although Lindsay gets her own back by doing both the cooking and
washing up. She must have read yesterday’s section of the diary.
Day 262 - Monday. Lindsay’s car needs to go for a service and have the water
leak fixed so we set off for St. John’s early but by different routes. I take the
short cut but so has half the island so Lindsay comes out just ahead of me. The
garage owner shakes his head at Lindsay’s long list of things she wants him to
check. I suspect the car won’t be back today, maybe not tomorrow.
ACT are supposed to be installing our home internet service at ten thirty this
morning. At twelve, I ‘phone Lindsay. No one has appeared. A call to ACT
tells me they may appear this afternoon, I doubt it.
With the postponed Round the Island Race happening this coming weekend I
have produced a load of leaflets to distribute around the yachts in the hope of
getting a few more entrants. Since it’s fairly cool I am wearing a long sleeved
shirt and tie, not common in Antigua, and get some funny looks plus a few
comments.
ACT do not appear, Lindsay’s car is not ready and, at the Tot, I am told I am to
‘Reply to the haggis’ on Burns Night. I can think of a few disgusting things to
say about a haggis.
Day 263 – Tuesday. ACT eventually appear and tell Lindsay that we need a
wireless router in order to connect to the internet. Fortunately, we have a
computer specialist next door to the office and he keeps various bits in stock. I
buy a router and take it home. The dogs won’t stop barking at the two
workmen, one of whom is obviously not too fond of dogs.
Mark and Lindsay (not my Lindsay) turn up in the office wanting me to print the
Burns Night programmes. They look a bit boring so I download a couple of
Scottish cartoons from the internet and add them. It seems as though I am
doing the toast to the ‘lassies’.

A call from Lindsay tells me that ACT can’t install the internet as the aerial they
have brought isn’t powerful enough. They say they will return tomorrow but I
doubt it.
Lindsay’s car, which was supposed to be ready by ten, is not and the garage
suggest it will be by lunch time. I need to go to St. John’s to get a banker’s draft
to pay the printers in the U.S. so I suggest Lindsay comes with me. We collect
the draft, go and do some shopping and collect the post then call into the
garage. It’s half past two and the car is still not ready so, not having had any
lunch we get something to eat in a nearby café and return for the car. It is
ready.
Desmond Nicholson has died this morning. He was the founder of yachting in
Antigua having arrived in Antigua with his parents on a yacht in 1949.
Day 264 – Wednesday. News from the solicitor. Not being able to use my
agreement, she has come up with a version of her own, most of which is
acceptable but I make three alterations and send it back. If we can get
agreement we may get things signed this week.
When I get home to change before Burns Night Lindsay is in the shower and
she has left the dogs shut in the living room. Having thought we had go away
quite mildly with puppies chewing things, just the odd book, a few Christmas
cards, a few of Lindsay’s socks, a couple of Lindsay’s flip-flops, the tongues and
laces from an old pair of my deck shoes, a cushion and the veranda door, I walk
into a scene of destruction. They have pulled all the cushions off the sofas and
chewed the fire retardant labels to shreds. There is paper everywhere and
Nissan has staked his claim to one of the cushions by peeing on it. They are
not popular.
Burns Night is at Calabash and Master of Ceremonies, Hamish Burgess-
Simpson, in full Scots regalia, opens the proceedings by introducing Sandy Mair
who speaks at length on the brief but varied life of Scotland’s most famous poet.
The first course of Cock-a-Leekie Soup is preceded by the reading of the totally
incomprehensible Selkirk Grace by Moya Williams. Perhaps one of the most
important parts of the celebration is the Parade of the Haggis in which the whole
of the Calabash staff march around the restaurant headed by Pam Clay,
Calabash’s hostess and chef. The Haggis is then presented to John Ross who
shared a traditional glass of whiskey with Pam before stabbing the Haggis three
times whilst muttering more indecipherable Scottish poetry. It falls to Hamish to
reply on behalf of the Haggis after which the guests were served a portion, not
to everyone’s liking, together with ‘neaps and tatties’.
Following the main course of beef sirloin it’s my turn to propose the toast to the
Lassies. No mean feat as it is alleged that Robert Burns had more than an eye
for the ladies, siring twelve children with four different women prior to his early
death aged 37. Before the toast I admit to my error and confess even of the ten

Haggis are vegetarian. Adding to the general confusion and incomprehension
of the whole evening, Roger Guy responds on behalf of the Lassies. Sandy then
gives a rendition in his broad Scots accent of Love is like a Red, Red Rose A
kilt adorned Malcolm banks reads ‘To a Mouse’. Port and stilton precedes the
Loyal Toast.
Day 265 – Thursday. Lindsay is going to fumigate the house so I take the dogs
into the office which they like as it’s air conditioned but it doesn’t take them long
to get bored and start destroying the contents of the waste bins. When Lindsay
arrives she sweeps everything up and the dogs settle down again except that
they can’t get used to the increased foot traffic outside the windows and jump
up, barking every time someone walks past.
I have to go to the Customs at the airport to clear in the latest copies of All at
Sea so decide to do the banking at the same time. I cannot understand why I
always get stuck behind slow traffic when I’m in a hurry. Usually, taxi drivers
hurtle along the road as though they have a death wish. I get stuck behind two
who have forgotten they have accelerators. I just make the bank.
By the time I am back at the office Lindsay has gone and the internet is down
again so I can’t complete the work I am doing. Probably just as well as we are
going out this evening to celebrate out tenth wedding anniversary. It means I
can go home and change before picking up the dog sitter.
We arrive at Curtain Bluff where we have a suite, dinner and breakfast courtesy
of a charity auction when I bid US$400 to get the Curtain Bluff gift. Normal cost
is over US$1,000 per night. We are shown to a fabulous suite, on the beach
about fifty feet from the water. The bathroom is almost as big as our bedroom
and beautifully fitted. Lindsay goes into ecstasy as she sees the size of the
corner bath. We only have showers at home and Lindsay loves her baths. The
bedroom and lounge area are nearly as big as the whole ground floor of our
house. We sit on the main veranda sipping cocktails before dinner. The hotel
is ‘all inclusive’ except for wine with dinner. Not cheap but the wine sommelier
impresses us by recognising the wine from the number (1204) I give him from
the wine list. Apparently, Curtain Bluff has the best wine cellar in Antigua and
one of the best in the Caribbean. The food is only average and the selection
limited, which we put down it being ‘all inclusive’ but the service swift and
attentive. One downside to the place is that the average age of the guests is
around seventy five. It’s rather like being in a very upmarket old people’s home.
We retire to our suite after dinner and debate going for a swim. Lindsay is
reluctant to enter the water in the dark, not knowing what might be in it. Suits
me as I’ve always thought water was good for only two things, sailing on or
occasionally putting in whiskey.
Day 266 – Friday. No dogs to wake us up but the pounding of the sea on the
beach has not made for an entirely peaceful night. It’s surprising how noisy it is.

I run a bath for Lindsay and am immediately disappointed. The water is only
tepid. I tell Lindsay but she has one anyway.
Breakfast is a little strange in that the hash browns are fried potatoes with onion
and peppers and the sausage is a hamburger. Again the service is first class.
There must be one waiter for every table. We check out around eight, much to
the surprise of the staff but we have dogs and work to deal with.
We relieve Stephanie who has been dog sitting for us and she tells us how she
locked herself out on the veranda and had to climb in through a window and
Stephanie is not young or particularly small.
The internet is still down in the office and I suspect a problem with my office
connection. Checking it out I find I can connect by cable but not wirelessly. I
consult the computer expert next door. Eventually, we discover that he has
bought a new print server which also works wirelessly and, a million to one
chance, it has the same airport ID as my internal office router. We reconfigure
the router to a different ID.
The owner of the boat I am sailing on in the Round the Island Race rings to tell
me her crew don’t want to fly a spinnaker in the race. There are six of them and
they don’t think they can handle it. I tell her I have done it with only two, on one
occasion just Lindsay and me, and frequently with three but she’s not
persuaded. She gives me an opportunity to find another boat which I will try to
do.
At the yacht club I discover that all but two boats are racing non-spinnaker and
they are fully crewed. No wonder the racing has declined here if there is no
incentive to race with spinnakers. The non-spinnaker rating benefit is just too
great and needs to be turned around into a disadvantage. I decide to make a
stand and not sail on any boat which will not race without a spinnaker. Instead,
I shall go out on the committee boat and help with the start.
Day 267 – Saturday. Up early to get to the yacht club by seven. Lindsay has
‘hidden’ my splash proof jacket on a day when I’m most likely to need it. The
weather looks a bit wet however, the committee boat has a canopy. Only
thirteen yachts are signed on and ten will be starting at eight with three at nine.
It’s all a bit disappointing. Also, the wind is in the north which makes laying the
line a bit difficult. The ODM (outer distance marker) is laid in a position which I
would have thought to be entirely wrong. Rather than give the boats a down
wind start, the ODM has been laid to make it a reaching start which will cause
all the boats to bunch at the ODM. It’s just as well there are only ten of them.
Despite this, one boat is over the line and does not turn back. It begins to rain
quite heavily and I’m pleased not to be sailing as there is nothing worse than
sailing in the rain.

Plan B, if not sailing, is to raise the height of the fences to avoid the dogs from
climbing over and to adjust the sensors in my rear bumper as I am getting false
readings. It is really a question of reading the instructions. Apparently, I should
have installed the sensors in a particular order whereas I did it rather randomly,
hence the false readings. The rain persists so I revert to plan C. Reading my
book.
We decide to go to Jolly Harbour to join the party which is taking place at a
beach restaurant. It is still raining and we are glad we are able to drive all the
way to the door. The party is cancelled due to the weather so we go to see if
everyone is in the Dogwatch Tavern. Most are but it’s a very confined space
and they are setting up a disco. It’s going to be very noisy and everyone is
fairly drunk whilst we are entirely sober. We leave after one drink.
Day 268 – Sunday. I am able to put plan B into operation as it has stopped
raining and rearrange my sensors plus raise the height of the dog fence. We
are going to use one of our other ‘charity lunch’ vouchers at a restaurant on the
far side of the island. Halfway there my fuel light comes on and I am concerned
by the distance we are driving with no petrol stations nearby.
We arrive at the restaurant to find it completely empty. The car park of the
restaurant next door is full. Maybe it’s trying to tell us something but whatever it
is it can’t be that the food is no good. We have a very nice lunch and even the
house wine is very drinkable. The owners are friendly and come over to chat
from time to time. I suppose they have nothing better to do. I feel quite guilty
as we are the only guests and we are not even paying. I leave a large tip and
they tell us where there is an open petrol station nearby.
There is a message on my ‘phone from my brother saying he is coming to
Antigua. He asks advice about various hotels and I suggest the Inn at English
Harbour as probably the best for his purposes.
We are going down to the yacht club for the prize-giving and want to leave by
five fifteen but Lindsay’s parents ring and Lindsay never knows when to stop
talking so we are late. Normally, this wouldn’t matter as nothing starts on time
but, for a change, the prize-giving has. For some inexplicable reason, the
second half of the race was cancelled and everyone had arrived early at the
yacht club. We stand on the fringes and, when the prize-giving is over, I collar
one of the photographers for some pictures which I hope she sends me. Not
having been part of the race we are a little out of the celebrations and think we
can just make the Tot. We are in luck. We overtake Mike Rose as we
approach Calabash and since he has all the books the Tot won’t start until he
arrives.
Day 269 – Monday. Life in Antigua is full of interruptions. I am trying to deal
with my e-mails including getting the solicitor sorted over the house and print
two hundred letters with their accompanying information sheets when Mike

Rose appears. He doesn’t really want anything. The water pump on his car has
packed up (it must be catching) and he has a few hours to waste while it’s
repaired. I remember he wanted me to copy a DVD for him so I take the
opportunity to do it but, of course, it all goes wrong. It copies fine but this stupid
Apple computer will not play it from the disk I have just made. I copy from the
disk onto the computer and it works but copy it back to the disk and it doesn’t.
In the end I give two copies to Mike and suggest he tries them on a PC. He
rings me later to tell me they do work.
One of Lindsay’s tasks today is buy the dogs some beds. We have given up
trying to keep them off the furniture and covered one sofa with an old sheet but
if they have a bed each maybe we can encourage them to use the beds instead
of the sofa. The only bed Lindsay finds will suit a small cat. Sunny just about
fits in it but Nissan would need two stitched together.
I go on line to pay my U.K. credit cards and my U.K. tax bill, due tomorrow. I
get a bit of a shock. One of my cards is a lot higher than I had expected.
Mistakenly, I had paid my air fare on it rather than my Caribbean credit card
plus a bill I had paid in Antigua last June!!! has suddenly appeared. It’s for
£700. I wonder what the money has been doing all that time.
Just as I’m about to leave the office the ‘phone rings. I have hardly moved from
my desk all day. It’s Stan. The last think I want now is to sort out the few
remaining problems to do with the Marine Expo. Unfortunately, he has rung me
on the office ‘phone so I can’t leave until he’s finished and I am supposed to be
meeting Lindsay. It’s Mike Brigg’s birthday and we are going to his ‘surprise’
party which he has organised himself. I cut Stan short and tell him I will deal
with it tomorrow.
The party goes on fairly late but fortunately, there is food.
Day 270 – Tuesday. It’s groundhog day, or nearly. It start differently. I have
arranged to meet a developer who showed us a piece of land a few months ago
which we rejected but are now reconsidering. When I get to it he tells me he
doesn’t own it and doesn’t even know who owns it. So typical of developers,
‘land owners’ and agents here.
The groundhog bit is the interruptions. Janie Easton comes to see me wanting
me to produce some fictitious invoices. Janie has made a declaration to
Customs but doesn’t have the invoices to back it up. She can’t get her goods
until she produces them. She thinks it’s a ten minute job. So do I until I see the
number of invoices and all the work involved. Three hours later, she leaves.
Just before she goes Lisa Nicholson ‘phones. She wants me to produce two
thousand printed sheets for Desmond’s funeral Thursday. It’s difficult not to say
‘yes’. To make matters worse, Lindsay has not brought me any lunch and by
the time I have dealt with everyone it’s after three and the pizza restaurant

downstairs is closed. I manage with a packet of mixed biscuits from a nearby
shop.
Lisa Nicholson e-mails me what she has prepared. Unfortunately, she has
done it in Microsoft publisher and Apple does not support Publisher and I have
left my laptop PC at home. I try to download a copy of Publisher from the
internet but Cable & Wireless are doing there usual under 20 kps and it looks as
though it will take about a day and a half. I can see this is all going to go badly
wrong.
As the download and the print run I am doing is going to take several hours I
leave them running and go to the Tot. A potential new member is due to be
tested tonight and he is asked, without notice, to propose tonight’s toast. He
asks his neighbour for the toast for Tuesday. Standing next to Stephanie, I tell
her I hope he does better when it comes to his test. Guess who gets to test
him. Almost from the start it’s apparent he has done no work and doesn’t take it
seriously. Before we are a quarter of the way through the test I tell him I am
going to fail him. I say I will continue with the test if he wishes but that I can see
he knows nothing about the subjects. He gets very upset and slightly surprises
me by giving his age as an excuse. He looks about seventy but tells me he is
fifty six. I point out I am fifty seven. As he storms off I tell him he can always be
retested but he says he won’t bother. A row develops between him and his wife
because he failed. I steer well clear.
More people from Mid Sussex appear in the bar. The Frosts again and the
owners of Springs, the salmon producers. Apparently, Guy Harwood (another
Jaguar dealer from whom I used to buy cars) arrives tomorrow. I don’t bother to
go back to the office to check on how things are going.
Day 271 – Wednesday. The printer had run out of paper and the internet has
crashed with only seventy one per cent of the programme downloaded. The
only answer is to send the documents to my laptop PC except they won’t go. I
knew everything was going to go wrong. I will have to try to transfer things
manually. It doesn’t work manually so the only answer is to download the whole
lot again from the internet. Time is definitely getting pressing.
Bill Dixon from Cluttons in Haywards Heath rings. He is on the island with his
wife, Frances. They are friends of Mike Bright and I tell him that Mike is having
a barbeque tonight. I’m sure Mike would want him to come along. I ring Mike
and confirm then agree to pick up Bill and Frances in the Dockyard at six thirty.
We having lunch with my former U.K. doctor, Nick Barrie and his wife, Fiona. I
have booked a table at Catherine’s and arranged to meet Nick and Fiona in the
Dockyard. Apparently, four cruise ships have come in and the area is teeming
with tourists, buses and taxis. There is nowhere to park. It’s some years since I
have seen Fiona and I know she has been having chemotherapy treatment. I
see a woman wandering around who looks like Fiona and I accost her. It’s not.

A few minutes later, Nick and Fiona arrive and we drive them around to
Catherine’s where we, Lindsay excepted, their fabulous steak tartare. Lindsay
makes up for it with fresh strawberries and cream which, added to two bottles of
wine comes to EC$700. Catherine’s has never been cheap.
By the end of the afternoon, I have printed one thousand pages of text for
Desmond’s funeral and start on the other thousand pages of photos. I have
already had to replace all the colour cartridges and the black one is showing a
low level light. I don’t have a spare having, mistakenly bought two yellow ones
and no black when I last renewed them. I keep my fingers crossed as it’s too
late to go into St. John’s to buy another one.
I have to go to the Tot to deal with the person I failed last night. I have to be
quick as I am due to pick up Bill and Frances in half an hour. Driving around to
the Dockyard, a little late, I come up behind a very slow moving taxi. There is
always one when you are in a hurry. Fortunately, this one contains Bill and
Frances. I briefly stop at the office to see how the printing is going. The black
cartridge has run out which means an early trip to St. John’s tomorrow.
The barbeque turns out to be very social with all kinds of people from Mid
Sussex including someone who keeps his boat in Brighton Marina. Lindsay,
who was supposed to follow me from Calabash, arrives over an hour later. I
meet another Tony Demented and he’s in the RAF. He could be Tony’s clone.
It makes me cringe to think that had I not been thrown out of the RAF I could
have turned out like them although neither of them are General Duties (flying)
and, I hope, the pilots turn out differently.
Around eleven I think it’s time to go and I suggest to Bill and Frances I will drive
them to a taxi and, if I can’t find one, then back to Hawksbill which is about
three quarters of an hour away. I don’t fancy the drive as I will get back well
after midnight. Fortunately, there is a queue of taxis outside the Mad Mongoose
but I still feel a bit guilty dumping them there as I know what it will cost in a taxi.
Bed is more important.
Day 272 – Thursday. I have forgotten to take the office cheque book home so
have to go the wrong way from St. John’s to collect it. As I walk back to the car
Mike Rose drives by. I remember I had volunteered to meet him at eight in the
Dockyard to hoist the White Ensign at half mast for Desmond’s funeral. It’s
fortunate I saw him so I rush after him and just make it in time.
For a change the traffic into St. John’s is not too bad and I arrive at the shop
before quarter to nine. Unfortunately, there is a policeman standing right by the
yellow line where I want to park. I find a space half a mile away. When I get to
the shop I notice it opened at eight and I could have been there a lot earlier. I
get back to the office at nine thirty and set the printing going. It’s going to be a
close run thing.

An e-mail from Geoffrey Pidduck tells me that Janie Easton can’t ‘work’ the
invoice I have done for her. Is there anything I can do? Fortunately, It only
takes about two minutes.
Desmond’s son, Roger appears and takes what I have done so far. He’s in a bit
of a panic. The grave hasn’t been dug yet. He went to meet the gravedigger at
seven thirty but no one arrived until after eight and he was then told they would
be digging the grave at twelve. The burial is at two and, knowing Antigua,
twelve could easily be after two. He thinks he has persuaded them to do it at
half eleven.
Lindsay arrives in the office with the dogs and, shortly after, I see Patrick on the
opposite veranda. He’s obviously looking for us. I discuss using his boat for
sailing week and we agree to meet up in about a week to have a look at it. I
might persuade him to let me use it for regular racing at the yacht club.
A call from the Customs broker tells me the February edition of All at Sea has
arrived. I tell him I will collect them tomorrow for distribution.
At five, we close up the office and wander down to the Dockyard for the
memorial and Desmond’s ‘wake’. The police Band are in full swing and
performing slightly better than usual. The two best performances were the Tot
Club with the flag ceremony and the crowd when the first cannon went off at the
beginning of a seven gun (cannon) salute. There was a collective shriek from
the women and most of the men jumped (me included). The three shot riffle
salute by the Police Band was tame by comparison and reduced further when
one of the policewomen dropped the magazine from her rifle onto the ground.
The whole event took about an hour. The Prime Minister and several of the
Cabinet were also in attendance with a crowd estimated at a couple of
thousand. Some funeral. Free food and drink was supplied until eight thirty.
Day 273 – Friday. After various interruptions I manage to get out of the office at
about quarter to ten. Callie is supposed to be coming with me to show me the
whereabouts of the All at Sea agents. I want to find all the delivery points and it
will be easier if she shows me. She cancels but I go to the airport to collect the
magazines anyway. Surprise, surprise. They haven’t arrived but are on their
way. Fifteen minutes later they do turn up. With constant use of the ‘phone, I
sort out with Callie where everyone is on the north of the island and I know the
rest and, for the first time, drive straight to Jolly Harbour. I will have to do it
again next month to show whoever is going to do the deliveries in future.
Before leaving, I set my e-mail to ‘out of office’ reply. It promptly send e-mail in
my in-box a notification. Some people receive up to forty e-mails. Another
stupid idiosyncrasy of Apple. You have to tell it not do so which I didn’t. I
receive a multitude of telephone calls plus the computer sends itself about thirty
e-mails.

I am on my way back from Jolly Harbour when Bill Dixon rings. He is in English
Harbour. I tell him I will be another hour to an hour and a half and agree to
meet at Skullduggery at two. I get there twenty minutes early. I used the
twenty minutes to have lunch but Bill and Frances haven’t eaten so I sit through
lunch with them and deliver them to Mike Bright at about three thirty.
An e-mail from Rob and Amanda tells us that even more people have pulled out
of the Blue Water Rally and have all met up in St. Lucia. Rob and Amanda
have major steering problems and Rob is having to steer from below with his
head out of the stern hatch whilst using the emergency tiller.
A call from the solicitor to arrange an appointment for Monday. She has the
papers on the house ready.
I have to test another potential new member for the Tot club. It’s an American
lady, She passes despite her having some slight reservations at toasting the
Queen. I point out that non-U.K. nationals only have to show respect not
allegiance.
Day 274 – Saturday. I feel really knackered and want a lie-in. Lindsay says I
have to walk the dogs but I fall asleep again and she takes them instead. As
we are getting short of gas and Lindsay kept on forgetting to get some or
turning up when they had run out, I set off to buy some. There is an island wide
shortage and after trying four different places I give up. I just hope we don’t run
out. Apparently, more is due on Tuesday.
With instructions from Lindsay to bring back some ice cream, I call in at Sweet-
T’s who have a vast selection. Everything I choose is out of stock so I ask them
to just give me their recommendation of four different type they do have in
stock. Peanut is the most unusual.
The Tot is on board Tenacious and I quite like going but Lindsay doesn’t so I go
alone. Lindsay asks me to pick up a DVD on the way back. I collect two. We
are about three quarters the way through the second one when the power goes.
I thought Lindsay hadn’t run the generator for very long in the afternoon and it
proves to be the case. My only concern is that the DVD player jams when it’s
running and the power goes off. Last time I had to take it completely apart to
remove the DVD.
Day 275 – Sunday. I get up and start the generator. As I am already up, I
tackle the DVD player. For some reason it just starts running without any
‘gentle persuasion’. I suggest to Lindsay she get up and watch the rest of the
movie so we can drop it back on our way to Keep Fit. Lindsay points out of the
window at the approaching rain storms and asks if Keep fit is on. We watch the
rest of the DVD and, at nine, I ring Terry and tell him the weather we can see
from our house. He calls off Keep Fit. The weather clears up and Lindsay says

she hopes in rains in English Harbour at around ten, the time we were due to
meet. Almost on cue, it starts raining.
I have to collect Graeme from the airport and, as he is due to land at three, I
leave at about quarter to, intending to stop on the way to buy some potatoes as
Lindsay has forgotten. The car park outside the shop is full so I continue on to
the airport. The police are enforcing the no parking restrictions so I have to use
the car park which, as it’s nearly full, means a bit of a walk. Graeme appears
ten or fifteen minutes later. The flight was half an hour early until it had two
aborted landings due to a rain storm which reduced visibility too much for
landing.
I am a little low on petrol so call into a garage. They have just closed. Opposite
is a bus stop with a Calabash employee waiting so I offer her a lift. A few miles
further I see another one so pick her up as well. I am becoming quite a taxi
service.
After having a drink with Graeme in the Galley Bar, I return home to collect
Lindsay for the Tot. My purchase of potatoes (which I did on the way back from
the airport) proves pointless as Lindsay decides we are going to Life for a
Sunday roast.
Day 276 – Monday. We have an appointment with the solicitor at twelve so I
suggest Lindsay gets to the office by eleven fifteen to ensure we are not late as
the traffic is rather unpredictable. There is no traffic so we arrive fifteen minutes
early. The solicitors sees us quite promptly which is unusual but only wants us
to sign papers which instructs her to act for us. I find a few errors in the
paperwork and we receive a bill for over EC$80,000 to include stamp duty, her
fees, etc. for the house purchase. She will now forward the papers to the other
side for approval. Maybe we are getting somewhere.
I have a meeting at the yacht club at two but two of those supposed to be
attending don’t turn up. One has forgotten the other is tied up in a meeting
elsewhere. I rearrange the meeting for twelve tomorrow.
As I am about to leave the yacht club, Lindsay rings. The Minister of Tourism
and the Minister for Telecommunications wants to see me urgently. I tell
Lindsay I will call them when I get back to the office. I am asked how soon I can
get to St. John’s and, as my meeting is at the yacht club is postponed, I say I
can leave immediately. On arrival I am ushered to a sofa outside the Minister of
Tourism’s office while we await the arrival of the Minister of
Telecommunications who appears about fifteen minutes later with a
telecommunications consultant. It appears I have stirred things up a bit
regarding the wi-fi access for the yachts in English and Falmouth Harbours and
they are very keen to ensure I understand their position. I can see that they are
between ’a rock and a hard place’ as a result of actions by the previous
administration but, unfortunately, that won’t help the yachts. They have hastily

organised a meeting on Thursday in English Harbour to try to resolve/explain
the situation to which I have been invited.
I get home in time to pick up Lindsay to go to the Tot where I ask Graeme if he
would care to accompany me to the meeting on Thursday to express the yachts
point of view. When I get back to the car there is a message on my ‘phone from
my brother, Simon, asking me to book him into the Inn on English Harbour for
March.
Day 277 – Tuesday. I have been in the office about half an hour when the
‘phone rings. It’s my brother-in-law, Bill Higson. Apparently his two offspring
are passing through Antigua in April on their way to meet up with him and my
sister at St. Kitts. He wonders whether we would like to meet them and sail
them up to St. Kitts. I say I will see whether I can get my hands on a boat. I am
fairly sure we can organise something but Bill’s geography of the Caribbean is a
bit screwed as he thinks St. Kitts and Nevis are southwest of here whereas I
think they are northwest and the prevailing winds at the moment are out of the
northeast. When I check on a map I can see that St. Kitts and Nevis are more
west of Antigua and only slightly north. We can occasionally see St. Kitts and I
have always thought I have been looking northwest which is almost right. By
April the prevailing winds should have changed to the southeast which means
coming back up wind.
Graeme is borrowing Lindsay’s car to go to St. John’s so Lindsay pinches mine.
She says she will be back before twelve, with lunch, so I can go to my
rearranged meeting at the yacht club. Everyone seems so laid back at the
meeting I wonder if anything will happen. I say what I want to do and there are
nods of agreement but not much enthusiasm. I feel as though I am hitting my
head against a brick wall. Somehow, I want to introduce a handicap system
that encourages the use of spinnakers but doesn’t discourage new boats.
Probably an impossible task. My e-mail to the Chairman of sailing Week
requesting information on the results of Antiguan boats in the spinnaker classes
over the past five years has become known at the yacht club and some excuses
are bandied around as to why most yacht won’t fly spinnakers. I don’t accept
them and say that crews will never learn or will lose the skills unless we
encourage racing with spinnakers.
Graeme returns at about three thirty having managed to do all his tasks. He still
reckons Lindsay’s car is powered by rubber bands and didn’t realise how short
it is until he put a five foot solar panel inside. It touched both the windscreen
and the rear window.
An e-mail from Rob and Amanda reminds me to ask them if they fancy a trip to
St. Kitts in April which will solve my problem of delivering my niece and nephew.
Day 278 – Wednesday. We are disturbed by Sandy and the men putting up
electricity poles. Sandy is not happy. He had already commented to Lindsay

that one had been placed on the edge of his garden, straight though his water
pipe. Apparently, Lindsay had made some comment about a new washing line
but Sandy didn’t see the funny side. Also, the pole is right in the middle of our
view to the west. Sandy is persuading them to move it. No doubt, it will go
through our water pipe.
I collar our landlord at the office to find out how he managed to get his Nonresidents
Landholders Licence so quickly. He gives me the inside information
on the understanding that I won’t tell anyone else. I agree.
Despite the fact that we are still owed around EC$50,000 for the 2006 edition of
the Marine Guide, someone has sent us a cheque for 2007. Also, I am being
pressurised to do a fold out cover for one advertiser. I quote him EC$19,500
which, with discounts, will come down to EC$16,000 which he doesn’t think is
unreasonable.
An e-mail from Rob and Amanda agrees to the trip to St. Kitts. They will have
their niece in tow. I ring my sister, Geraldine, to inform her.
A call from the internet company tells us that their man is at our house with a
new high gain aerial. We are not in and he hasn’t made an appointment.
Lindsay rushes home. When I get back to pick her up to go to St. John’s he
hasn’t finished so I go alone.
I have a whole load of things to do in St. John’s including going to the airport to
change our U.K. return tickets. Halfway to St. John’s I realise I have left the
tickets behind. There is no point in turning back as I will miss the bank. The
bank agree to provide the necessary reference for our Non-citizens Landholders
Licence. I head for the Ministry of Agriculture, Lands, Environment, Marine
Resources, & Agro Industries to start the process. I have a name, very useful.
I find the Min. of Ag’s offices and ask for Mr Daniels. I am directed to a corridor
and told the fifth door on the right. I knock. It’s the wrong office. The occupier
tells me to go a further two door but that is wrong also. Eventually I find the
office, the third one down the corridor, however, if you count the two doors in
the reception area, it does become the fifth door on the right.
My Mr Daniels is not in but I am invited to wait. After about fifteen minutes
during which time I watch a young clerk stare without a break at a plan of no
more than two square inches and almost entirely obscured by a large rubber
stamp. There is nothing on the page which could not have been gleaned within
a few seconds. His desk is covered in files. No wonder it takes so long to get a
licence. Mr Daniels never reappears but a very helpful lady takes me through
the process instead.
I have to attend a Board meeting at the yacht club which becomes very
protracted. The club secretary, who was absent from the last meeting, is
present. She is really obnoxious and I take an instant dislike to her. It is very

obvious that several other Board member don’t like her either. Despite having
wasted an awful lot of the Board’s time trying to promote things which were
entirely in her own interest and not necessarily the club’s she leaves early and
asks if someone else can complete the minutes. Later, Geoffrey tells me he
has similar problems with her in business.
I don’t get home until nearly eleven and my dinner’s not in the dogs as it hasn’t
been cooked yet.
Day 279 – Thursday. We are supposed to be going to a barbeque at Wallings
Dam at lunch time. It’s Clare and John’s first wedding anniversary. Intending to
spend a few hours in the office, I am just about to leave the house, suitably
dressed for a trek up to the dam when I get a message from Graeme. The
venue has been changed to Galleon Beach. This suits me as I have to be at a
meeting in the Dockyard at four and was going to have to leave the dam early to
get home and change. I now change back into appropriate clothes but arrive at
the barbeque well over dressed. Bill Dunn has swum ashore from his boat and
is only wearing a pair of trunks. I get a photo taken of us together as the most
overdressed and underdressed couple at the party.
I have to leave to get to the meeting at four. I am allowed to take someone with
me to represent the sailing community. I asked Graeme. Bill Dunn heard about
the meeting and asked if he could come as well. I obtained permission from the
Ministry of Tourism. It’s just as well the Government representatives are late as
both Graeme and Bill turn up after four as do a few others. They are obviously
more used to ‘Antigua time’ than I am. The meeting is quite successful and I
think the Government come out of it as the ‘good guys’.
The Tot is at the Yacht Club which is followed by games night. I am a bit tired
but get persuaded to make up a four at bridge. Lindsay starts playing chess
and it seems that whenever I have finished a rubber she is in the middle of a
game. She then switches to dominos and, fortunately, a time comes when we
have both completed games so we can leave.
Day 280 – Friday. We have to go to town to collect the reference from the bank
and change our return flight dates to the U.K.. Ringing the Surveyors
Department to get a copy of the Cadastral Plan (I said “the what?” when told I
had to have one. It’s an old colonial thing used in the U.S..) and the Land
Registry to get a Certified copy of the Land Register the land registry I am told
the Land Registry closes at twelve and the Surveyors Department at three. No
chance of getting to the Land Registry so we set off to do the rest plus Lindsay
wants to do some shopping.
We eventually find the Surveyors Department. No notice on the door or sign
anywhere. There is a large reception desk and even larger waiting area but
nobody in sight apart from one customer leaning against the desk. He tells us
to ring the bell. We can hear loud voices from the other side of the wall but

nobody appears for about fifteen minutes. When someone does they hand a
piece of paper to the other customer and then disappears saying he will be back
in a minute. We are now alone in the waiting area when an attractive young
lady comes in and rings the bell. As before, no-one appears. She doesn’t have
a lot of patience and rings the bell about a dozen times until someone does
appear. Fortunately, I am a long way from the bell and Lindsay comments that
she only got away with it because she is attractive. At least we get served.
At the bank the person dealing with our reference is not in. It’s been done but
the manager can’t find it. Fortunately, it’s been saved in the computer so she
prints another one. Later Lindsay notices it refers to me only so I will have to go
back and get it changed.
At the airport we switch our flights to 2 nd September so be warned, we will be
back then.
Lindsay decides she no longer wants to go shopping so we drive back to the
office and she heads home. A short while later I get a call. One of the dogs,
Nissan, is missing and the other is wandering around the garden. I set off for
home but only get as far as the car when Lindsay rings back. Nissan has
returned home looking very sheepish. He knows he shouldn’t have run off. I
am going have to build Colditz style fencing to keep them in. Lindsay decides
to stay at home to make sure the dogs don’t get out again and I go off to the
Tot, briefly.
Day 281 – Saturday. Lindsay heads off to St. John’s to do some shopping and I
go to buy some more material to improve the dog fencing. First stop is at a
DIY/timber yard but they don’t have any of the fencing wire I require so it’s on to
another store on the outskirts of St. John’s. I see Lindsay coming the other way
looking puzzled.
My ‘phone rings. It’s the MD of the internet company which is causing all the
controversy in the Dockyard. He keeps me on the ‘phone for thirty six minutes
but is very keen to resolve the problem. I agree to meet him in about a week
when he returns to the island. In the meantime, he confirms my suspicions that
it’s not his company causing the problem but the agents who sell his services.
Having obtained a monopoly, the ‘resellers’ are overcharging the customers.
He promises to correct the position.
I purchase eighty foot of 2” x 1” timber (they call it 1 x 2 here) to increase the
height of the gates and twenty feet of netting plus a new cordless drill and a
couple of new wheels for the generator. Neither the wheel nor the generator
have anything to do with dog security but the previous wheels I bought were
plastic and the two at the heavy end of the generator are beginning to sag.
Having made my purchases I proffer a credit card. The machine is offline and
the cashier asks if I have enough cash. The amount required is EC$682. I only

have EC$645 on me. She says she will take EC$640. This means I have to
drive into St. John’s to get some more cash for the weekend. With five sixteen
foot lengths of timber, not well secured and sticking about eight feet out of the
back window, it makes for an interesting drive.
The screws I have to add the timber to the gate are too long but it’s easier and
quicker to grind the ends off than go and buy new ones. A by-product of using
the grinder is that I realise I can use the grinder to cut the fencing wire mesh
rather than a pair of wire cutters. In the past I have cut through the one
centimetre mesh squares with wire cutters which takes ages, rather akin to
cutting a lawn with nail scissors, plus my hands get covered in dozens of small
cuts. The grinder cuts a twenty foot section in seconds. By late afternoon the
dogs will have to be magicians to get out.
Day 282 – Sunday. Having brought the old computer back home I need to get
some account information off it for the accountants of one of the U.K.
companies in which I still have an interest. The computer obviously didn’t like
being moved as it will no longer ‘talk’ to the printer so I have to re-install the
software. I attempt to see if it will also ‘talk’ to our new internet connection. The
computer is too old and needs a cable connection. I connect up the Apple and
try listening to Radio 4. It’s Nicholas Parsons, who I can’t stand, doing Just a
Minute. The connection is not great so it’s no pain to disconnect.
Keep Fit today is moving some of Mark and Lindsay’s heavy furniture around
their new house. We join in. You never know when reciprocal help might be
needed. The house is a bit small for everything they have brought over from
Canada. What they have done is have two BeWee houses (local timber
structures) built at right angles and connected by a veranda. They look very
nice but are much smaller than I had thought looking from the outside. It only
takes about an hour so, after a coke at the Galley Bar, Lindsay and I go to have
yet another look at the house we are trying to buy to further formulate our plans
(argue over what each of us thinks is best). Someone has left a door open so
we wander around. Every time we have a look the list of work seems to
increase but so do our ideas of how we would like to rearrange the property.
I spend the afternoon drawing up a new lease for the restaurant below the yacht
club which is due for renewal. The old lease has loads of flaws in it and there is
no provision for the yacht club to ever take back possession. I only hope the
tenant doesn’t realise it.
We had intended to go and have a Sunday roast at life but can’t be bothered
and as we have a joint of beef in the ‘fridge I cook the beef with Yorkshire
puddings and roast potatoes which we eat while watching a video followed by a
second which proves to be a mistake. We have used too much electricity and
as we are cleaning our teeth the power goes off.

Day 283 – Monday. I want to be in St. John’s when the Land Registry opens at
eight but have over slept and woken at ten past seven. On my way into St.
John’s there is a police road block. They are stopping every vehicle in both
directions to check tax discs. I have never seen so many police in one go
except for when the police band plays in Nelson’s Dockyard. They have pulled
over at least twenty vehicles.
By the time I arrive at the Land Registry it’s just before nine but find out that
they don’t open until eight thirty. I pay my EC$100 for a Certified copy and am
told to return in a week. While I am out I buy another dog lead as Nissan has
chewed through yet another lead. At least he’s confining himself, mainly, to
easily replaceable items.
Rumour has it that Geoffrey has lost his mast and Graeme and I were going
with him in March to do the St. Martin regatta. Geoffrey rings and confirms the
bad news. It came down when he was using a spinnaker. Should I feel guilty?
Apparently, there was more use of spinnakers in the Jolly Harbour regatta this
weekend so maybe my comments have been having some affect.
I have to go to the yacht club to sort out a problem with a visitor to the island
who would like to sail one of the club’s dinghies. I have been asked to sort the
problem by someone who has been a club member for twenty three years. I am
not sure why he can’t sort it himself but I do it anyway. While I am there Tim
Wall approaches me about a legal problem he has with some of his land. I
explain what the legal position would be in the U.K.. The law is little different
here and, as it so happens, I had made checks in respect of the house we are
trying to buy. I advise him of what I would do and suggests he talks to his
solicitor. It transpires his solicitor is the same as ours and he doesn’t think he’s
getting the right advice. I know what he means.
The person I failed for entry to the Tot finally passes his test (examined by
someone else) but makes a complete fool of himself in the circle. In my
opinion, he should have stayed ‘failed’. Once he had completed all his personal
information in the members book, I check on his age. He is fifty six which I find
extremely difficult to believe.
Mike Rose tells me of another dog poisoning. This time it’s Lisa Nicholson’s
which is a bit tough after just having lost her husband. It’s high time the
Government did something about it.
Day 284 – Tuesday. Yesterday I forgot to collect a revised reference from the
bank plus the dog lead I bought is too short and Lindsay, being lousy at
shopping, forgot to get various things we need so it’s easier if I go straight to St.
John’s before the office to rectify everything.

It’s quite a quick journey and I’m back in the office by ten. Lindsay obviously is
used to the amount of time it normally takes as, when she rings at eleven thirty,
she is surprised to find me in the office.
An e-mail from Rob and Amanda tells me they are now on Skype but they have
searched for me without success. I haven’t got around to switching on the
Skype to Skype part of the programme. In doing so I discover there is an
answerphone service for €15 per annum so I subscribe.
Lindsay answers the ‘phone and tells me that a Mark Oxley is on the ‘phone
asking for me. I don’t know any Mark Oxley but take the call. It’s Mike Oxley
who used to work for me about twenty years ago in the U.K. but went off and
did a boat building course. He’s probably taking up a job with one boat builders
in Antigua who he met on the boat building course. He was looking things up
things Antiguan on the internet and came across my name on several websites
and thought it could only be me so telephones. After he rang off I wondered
how he managed to get my number. I checked the internet and both my mobile
and office numbers are published on a couple of websites.
Having had a letter published in one of the papers about the poisoning of dogs,
I send Lisa Nicholson an e-mail asking if I can use her name in another letter
relating to the poisoning of her dog. She agrees wholeheartedly. I hope the
Nicholson name will carry some weight particularly in view of Desmond’s recent
death.
At last, there is some response from the solicitor on the house. The vendor’s
solicitor is querying some of the things we put in the contract (It’s the opposite
way around to the U.K.. We have prepared the contract.)
Today is one of the days on which we are allowed to fly the White Ensign from
the flagstaff in the Dockyard. I go down just before five thirty to help take it
down. Graeme, Mike Rose and someone else is there to help. Mike pipes the
lowering of the flags and I bring down the Antiguan flag while Graeme and the
other guy (whose name, I think, is Mike also) lower the White Ensign. When we
have finished a local man comes up to Mike and me and gives us a hard time
about the flag touching the ground. He is quite unpleasant about it.
Fortunately, it was the White Ensign and not the Antiguan flag otherwise I think
he might have shot me.
When I get back to the car I see that Lindsay has rung me twice but I can’t get a
reply when I ring back. I decide to go to the Tot anyway and try her again
afterwards. Still no reply. I wonder whether the dogs have got out again and
she has gone looking for them without her ‘phone. I leave the Tot and head
home. No such panic. Lindsay’s ‘phone has no signal and all she wanted was
some instructions on a computer programme she is trying to use.

Day 285 – Wednesday. My computer rings like a telephone. It’s Amanda
ringing on Skype. They are still having problems with the boat. The third
alternator is being replaced. Just as well they are not halfway across the Pacific
although Hallberg Rassy seem to be providing good back up. Rob and Amanda
should be back here in about two weeks.
Other funny things start happening to the computer. I have just finished typing
a long, complicated e-mail when the computer starts reading it to me in an
American, female voice. I must have inadvertently pressed something which
set it off. I knew the computer could talk but I didn’t know anyone had taught it
to read. It’s a bit uncanny, thought. She never takes a breath and you find
yourself holding your own breath while she reads. I investigate how this
phenomenon has occurred and find I can set the computer up to read anything.
I get it read part of the diary but the voice rather lacks expression so, seeing I
have a choice of voices, I choose a nicer sounding one. Unfortunately, they all
speak with American accents unless you go for one of the novelty voices which
are a bit of fun but not much good for listening to.
I have decided to take someone on, part time, to do some selling. I did quite a
lot of work with her during the Marine Expo and know her reasonably well.
There is plenty of margin in the business as we paid Alexis a consultancy fee
last year of EC$30,000. As the law has recently changed to say we have to
advertise any vacancies before offering jobs to overseas people, I am not quite
sure how we stand. She tells me she is applying for a work permit as someone
who is self-employed.
Whilst looking up something on the internet I come across a film I have wanted
to see for years and had no idea it was on video or DVD. Several companies
have it available. It’s a little known film staring Omar Sharif, Anthony Quayle
and Julie Andrews. I remember it as being very good. I check out three sites
who claim to have it and order it through Amazon.
It’s a long day. Apart from walking to the Post Office, all of four hundred yards, I
have been at my desk all day so it’s a definite for the Tot at six. Going to the
Tot is a mistake. I am asked to examine a potential new member but very
quickly realise I am going to have to fail her. At this rate I will get myself a bad
reputation. For some reason we hand around and stay and have dinner at
Calabash. I’m never quite sure why we do because the food isn’t great unless
they are doing roast pork.
Day 286 – Thursday. When Lindsay gets back from walking the dogs Nissan
doesn’t seem too well but seems to shake if off after a while. About and hour
later, as I am driving to work, my message service on my ‘phone rings. It’s Tim
Wall to tell me that another dog has been poisoned near us and in the exact
area where Lindsay takes the dogs for a walk. Maybe Nissan pick something
up. I try to ring Lindsay but, as usual, she has her ‘phone turned off. I debate
whether to drive home but, since she won’t be taking the dogs out again until

this afternoon I don’t see the point. Eventually, at around noon, Lindsay turns
her ‘phone on. She has received the same message as me.
An e-mail I send to existing advertisers has an almost immediate affect. I
receive several telephone calls booking space for 2007 and two companies
want to pay now. I wish we could get the twenty which haven’t yet paid for 2006
to cough up as easily.
Both the Tot and bridge are at the yacht club tonight and it’s very crowded.
David Milliken-Smith’s dog creates a major problem. It’s evidently racist. Two
black guys want to walk up the back steps and it is refusing to let them. One of
them goes and gets a machete and threatens to chop it’s head off. David
seems to be extremely reluctant to do anything about it which causes quite a
stir. The club manager asks him to remove the dog but he ignores the request.
As I am the only officer in the club they turn to me and I have to ask David to
put the dog in the car.
Several people mention that the letter I wrote to the paper has been published
but I doubt it will do much good.
Day 287 – Friday. I send an e-mail to the solicitor to chase her on the contract.
She replies telling me that she is waiting to hear from me. It’s another case of
e-mails through Cable & Wireless disappearing into the ether.
Apart from a call from my brother-in-law and an e-mail from Rob and Amanda,
my whole day is taken up with responses to the reminder e-mail I sent to
advertisers, that is, apart from an hour I spend at the yacht club trying to sort
out the racing for Sunday.
I have produced signing-on sheets similar to those we used in Brighton and I
want to discuss where we will lay buoys. I am not getting very much cooperation
from the club manager and there is a continual question of the depth
of water in which to lay the buoys and the stability of the committee boat. I am
not surprised getting racing going is difficult if even the club staff are not
enthusiastic. Eventually, I say I will ask Graeme if we can use his catamaran as
a committee boat but I can’t get hold of him. It will have to wait until this
evening. I send out a last reminder to all the boats and potential crew in the
hope that some will turn up.
Yesterday, I fired another letter off to the local paper regarding the poisoning of
yet another dog suggesting the newspaper lead a campaign to get the
legislation on the Statute book implemented. It wasn’t intended for publication,
however, Geoffrey has just telephoned me to tell me it’s in today’s paper.
I meet up with Graeme at the Tot and ask if he’s willing to use his boat to start
the race. He agrees but suggest that Rendezvous Bay is not the best place as
it’s a bit far away and can be a bit rough. He acted as the committee boat for

last year’s Sailing Week and some of the starts were done from there. Geoffrey
agrees with him. It looks like it’s back to square one.
Day 288 – Saturday. I could do with a lie-in but Lindsay says I have to bond
more with the dogs (they have definitely become hers) so it’s my turn to take
them for a walk. I think I might catch up a bit by having a doze on the sofa. No
chance. Both dogs seem to want to give me a face wash.
Lindsay keeps complaining that the hob on the cooker won’t work. One ring is
not oxygenating properly and two others won’t self ignite. I had a similar
oxygenation problem with the cooker on the boat. Water had dripped onto the
ring and rusted it. It is the same problem here. I suspect Lindsay has boiled
over too many saucepans. By shorting out the self-igniters I can get them to
spark but not otherwise. The solution is to shorten the distance between the
igniter and the gas which I do by inserting a small piece of wire under the ring.
It’s a bit Heath Robinson but it works.
The dogs don’t seem to want to settle down. I don’t know what’s disturbing
them until Lindsay points out that there are goats on the land next door. I grab
a handful of stones and land a few well placed shots on a couple of rumps and
they scatter. Stupid animals are back ten minutes later so I repeat the exercise.
They are even more stupid than I thought. They return again. This time I attack
with a few small rocks. They all run except a very large ram who turns and
gives me a disdainful look. I’m quite glad there is fence between us. At the
second attempt a rock clatters between his horns and he saunters off. They
don’t return.
I have organised a meeting at the yacht club for a pre-racing briefing. Very few
people turn up but the consensus of opinion is that more will turn up tomorrow.
We hand around until seven thirty chatting to those who are there but don’t
have any form of formal briefing. I ring Graeme to cancel the use of his boat
and we head of to our dinner engagement.
There are several people there we have not met before and it’s an enjoyable
evening but we don’t get away until after midnight.
Day 289 – Sunday. Having decided against using Graeme’s boat I get early to
prepare a course on paper, designing a map of Falmouth Harbour. The course
uses a couple of buoys in the entrance to Falmouth Harbour and a couple of
laid marks out to sea. As the distance isn’t very great I have to send the boats
around the varying marks several times and in differing directions. When
written out, the course looks like an algebraic equations. One person says they
require a degree to understand it. In reality, it’s quite simple. There is a
comment from one skipper that he doesn’t like short legs. I have some
sympathy with him as I don’t either but mainly because you don’t have time to
pack spinnakers between marks, something which shouldn’t bother them here
as they don’t tend to use spinnakers. Also, short legs are disadvantageous to

igger boats which take longer to get going after a mark rounding. Only five
boats sign on not including the Commodore who, I think, should have turned up.
Apparently, his wife is making him do the garden – enough said.
The yacht club is very well equipped with racing equipment although they have
a strange system of flags for the starting sequence. Carl, who runs the
dinghies, professionally, for the club, is giving me a hand. I send him out in a
RIB to lay a couple of marks while I sign on the boats (something they don’t
normally do) and issue the courses. Carl returns and forgets to tie up the RIB.
From the yacht club balcony, I can see it drifting out of the harbour. We pick it
up with the committee boat and then go to anchor ourselves at the start line.
It’s a down wind start.
The wind picks up a few knots and backs a bit but as there are so many twists
and turns in the course that they get some good beats, reached and runs but
none of them uses a spinnaker which is probably just as well as I planned on
and hour and a half race and the first boat finishes in an hour and fifteen
minutes with the last ten minutes later. While sitting on the committee boat I
see my first turtle which is bobbing it’s head up and down out of the water. A
second (or maybe the first one back again) appears half an hour later. We are
anchored in Turtle Bay so, maybe, it’s not surprising.
There is quite an advantage to having the RIB alongside. We can use it to
collect the two laid marks and head off out to sea leaving the committee boat
anchored. Retrieving the marks makes me realise why they are not so keen to
lay them. One is not too bad, lying in a hundred foot of water, but the other is in
two hundred foot and the anchor is a half hundred weight block of concrete. I
am glad Carl is younger and fitter than me. Back at the committee boat I hoist
the anchor and, somehow, get caught in the bow roller. Carl comments that
you couldn’t do what I had done however hard you tried. I can’t get it off so we
motor back in and remove it on the dockside.
One thing the club doesn’t have is a proper race calculator. Everything has to
be calculated in minutes with the seconds worked out in hundredths from a
chart on the wall. That will have to change. I am pretty sure a calculator
Lindsay has at home will perform the task.
Comments on the course are generally favourable and even the boat owner
who said he did not like short legs says he enjoyed himself although he finished
last both on the water and on handicap.
I stop for a couple of drinks and ring Lindsay (who has been doing Keep Fit)
and ask if she’s coming down. She says no but asks me to pick up a
hamburger for her on the way back. The club is cooking hamburgers so it
seems to make sense to take them from there. As I am having a ‘take away’, I
get served last and just after I am presented with the food in aluminium foil,
Lindsay rings and asks if I am coming back. She is starving.

I decide to go to the Tot and pick up a DVD on the way back. On my way past
the DVD shop I notice the open sign in the window but the door shut. I guess
the girl has disappeared for a few minutes. An hour later, on my way home, the
situation is the same so, no DVD. As I have been out enjoying myself all day it
falls to me to cook dinner (and wash up).
Day 290 – Monday. Another early morning trip into St. John’s to collect the
Certified copy of the Land Register. Lindsay wants me to get some dog food
while I am in town and pick up a cheque (another early payer) which Lindsay
forgot to pick up on Friday which I take to the bank after getting dog food. The
bank obviously read the newspapers as they are well aware of my letters.
Yet another early payer wants us to collect cash from him for next year’s
advertisement. I ring Lindsay and suggest she picks it up on her way in. The
advertiser is obviously impatient as he turns up at the office just before twelve.
It has suddenly occurred to me that I completely forgot my experiences with the
generator on Saturday. We have had no problems for so long that it must have
escaped my mind. I started the generator before four, first checking the oil level
and topping up the diesel, removing the battery which needed charging and
connecting the spare battery which, despite being charged would not turn over
the engine even with the booster, reconnecting the old battery which would start
the generator with the booster and then, having started the generator,
disconnecting again the battery. Carrying the battery to the house I lock the
generator room door.
An hour or so later I think I ought to turn off the generator but I can find where I
have put the door keys. To make matters worse, I suddenly realise in all my
fiddling around with the generator I have not turned on the blue switch which
allows the power to come from the generator to the inverter so the past hour
has been wasted. Not being able to find the key I remove the glass from the
window (about four feet off the ground) and climb in. Apparently, Lindsay was
yelling at me to tell me she had found the keys but I couldn’t hear her over the
noise of the generator. Four feet, head first down the inside onto a hot
generator was not fun.
That was Saturday and on Sunday night we ran out of power which happened
again tonight. We are obviously back into generator problems.
At the Tot I am the source of some amusement. Apparently. Jol, in his daily
broadcast over English Harbour radio, announce that you needed a degree in
algebra to understand my course and those who did not were more
handicapped than those who did.
Day 291 – Tuesday. I don’t wish to bore everyone with more generator stories
but it’s back again with a vengeance. Having no power I start the generator at

about six thirty in the process breaking the exhaust hose which is only a piece
of marine exhaust and should have water running through it. It has become
totally brittle. I notice the smoke coming out of the generator (now directly into
the room and nearly asphyxiating me) is blue/grey and not black which means
the generator is not under load and, therefore, not charging. I check the
inverter and the red light is on so it’s not charging. Numerous chocking trips
into the generator room produce nothing so I call Sandy. We are back to sun
power and it’s cloudy. Sandy says he will send someone along. In the
meantime, I have a quick, cold shower with what little power the sun is giving
us.
On my way into the office I try to buy a new exhaust without success. I run into
Sandy at one of the places I call in and he tells me someone is coming to look
at the situation this morning. I try to ‘phone Lindsay but, as usual, her ‘phone is
off. One of the places where I am trying tells me to go to a muffler (car exhaust)
garage where I can get exactly what I want. It means going to St. John’s. I am
meeting with the person who is going to do some work for me at ten thirty so it
will have to wait.
Lindsay rings and tells me the electrical engineer has been and found the
problem. I ring him. He knows the problem but not the cure. He also suggests
I get an exhaust for the generator.
Leaving the office with about enough time to get to the bank before it closes I
encounter a long queue of cars. At the head is a large mobile crane followed by
a container lorry. They are travelling at less than ten miles an hour. Gradually,
the queue shortens until I am the third car back. The two cars in front are hire
cars and, probably, full of tourists. They are reluctant to overtake. For a brief
moment, I have to behave like an Antiguan bus/taxi driver and overtake all five
vehicles. I just make the bank with seconds to spare.
A visit to the ‘muffler’ shop produces an exhaust pipe bent to the right shape but
very slightly too large in diameter. It will be better than nothing. On the way
back I encounter the crane and the container lorry still only halfway to St.
John’s.
Yesterday Ron and Mike Rose had threatened to turn up wearing shirts and ties
to compete with me. Ron does but Mike forgets. I tell them I will have to wear a
suit tomorrow. Ron says he will do likewise.
Day 292 – Wednesday. No power again and, without much hope, I try the
generator but it doesn’t produce any power. I am a bit stuck as the electrician
Sandy has called in doesn’t want me to call in the generator people. We will
just have to wait on him. After waiting for the sun to put enough power in the
batteries, it’s another cold shower.

At ten thirty I have to meet with Geoffrey to measure the size of the restaurant
below the yacht club in preparation for working out their new rent. I have a
laser measuring machine which I haven’t used for about a year. It’s batteries
are flat. I go to a shop nearby to purchase new batteries and, having put them
in the machine, realise I have left my money at home. They trust me to return
later.
It takes only a few minutes to measure the building and Geoffrey, who has
never seen a laser measurer before, comments that there was no point in him
coming.
I am debating whether to go home and change before going to the Tot. I have
my suit jacket with me but I am tempted to change to shorts and a T-shirt
leaving Ron wearing a suit. A call comes in from a potential advertiser wanting
some modifications to the advert I designed for him. Having done that there is
no time to go home so I wear my suit which is just as well as Ron turns up in
shorts and a T-shirt.
I get to test another potential new member who is evidently nervous as he has
heard I failed the previous two I tested. He needn’t have worried. He’s done
enough work to pass.
Day 293 – Thursday. One of my office neighbours brings in a lengthy document
which is a copy of a new Act of Parliament regarding the registration of dogs.
It’s quite a comprehensive but, typically, there is an error in the wording which,
halfway through the Act states “If any dog, either at large or in charge of any
person……” Maybe they’re right. Having seen the way our dogs take Lindsay
for a walk it’s fairly clear who’s in charge.
The other day I received a telephone call from one of the locals who offered to
look after the house we are supposedly buying. I was hurrying to get out of the
office and said I would ring him back. He has been looking after it on behalf of
the owner and suggested we may take him on. I’m not sure whether it’s a kind
of extortion or whether he genuinely does something so I telephone him and
arrange to meet.
The guy turns out to be the one whose dog, Clyde, followed Lindsay home a
few months ago and I drove back to its house. He was in hospital at the time
and someone else was looking after the dog. He was also the subject of a fund
raising dinner we went to. He apparently did garden work for the owner of the
house we are buying, however, his estimating and maths aren’t too good. He
starts off telling me it will take two days to clear the garden. Then adds it will
take five men two days which increases to three then four at eighty dollars each
per day which he calculates at two fifty dollars a day. He adds a hundred a day
for himself so I say that works out a thirteen hundred dollars for the four days
and he agrees. My maths isn’t too good either. I short change him by a

hundred. He should be charging two thousand. For clearing an acre of
overgrown land, £275 isn’t bad.
I leave the office a little early as I am feeling rather worn out. We decide not to
go to the Tot and games night at the yacht club. I don’t think I can face several
rounds of bridge.
The power goes off, which means both lights and water, just as I am cleaning
my teeth. Something needs to be sorted and since no-one seems to be doing
anything I will have to have a go at it myself.
Day 294 – Friday. Up early to see what I can do with the generator. I have
been thinking about it lying in bed. The electrician had mentioned the generator
is not producing enough power to ‘kick start’ the inverter. He thinks that
corrosion within the inverter has increased resistance. It has occurred to me
that if I remove the rev. limiter on the generator the voltage produced will go up.
I give it a try and it works. The generator is now producing 240 volts instead of
its usual 220.
We are going to watch cricket – England A versus West Indies A. It’s the first
time Lindsay will have been to a cricket match. Her father has suggested she
take a can of paint, paint the seat in front and watch it dry. It will be more
entertaining.
On our way to the ground we go into St. John’s to collect papers from the Land
Registry. The main road outside St. John’s is closed off and all the traffic is
diverted through the town. Because of the one way system, getting to the Land
Registry office is most awkward and after about fifteen minutes of sitting in
traffic. I suggest to Lindsay that I will walk and she can drive the car. No
sooner am I out of the car than the jam frees up a bit. There are a couple of
parking spaces at the junction of the road to the Land Registry (it’s one way, the
wrong way for us). I indicate to Lindsay to park there and I continue on foot. I
collect the documents and we set off in the direction of the cricket ground,
slowly we have covered a couple of hundred yards in about ten minutes when
Lindsay points out that one of the documents is missing. A car parking space
comes free in front of us so I park and walk back to the Land Registry to collect
the missing document.
The roads all around the cricket ground are closed off and Lindsay persuades
me to park about half a mile away. I suggest that we can get closer if we go a
different route but Lindsay doesn’t believe me. As it turns out, had I gone where
I wanted to we would have got into the cricket ground car park.
When we arrive in the ground England are eighty something for three and play
has slowed down a lot. Eventually a fourth wicket falls at ninety nine. Watching
paint dry might be faster. The score is just over a hundred at the lunch interval.
Apart from the slowness of play both Lindsay and I find irritating the way a

couple of the West Indies players keep clapping even when nothing is
happening. Also, in the stand with us is a West Indian who keeps shouting at
the players and at us. I can’t under4stand a word he is saying yet he keeps
expecting a response. I smile and nod my head a few times but get bored with
this ritual so ignore him.
Typical of Antigua, our tickets refer to a game with Australia on 13 th June 1997
and the security wrist bands to some other completely different game and date.
It would certainly fox the ticket touts.
Tim and Caroline De Garve live nearby and have asked everyone back to
lunch. As we don’t know where the house is Mike Rose comes with us. We
reach the car and he says it’s not worth driving as the house is nearby. I’ve
heard this sort of thing before and get in the car. It’s just as well as it’s best part
of a mile to the house. We pass Graeme and Catherine but, as I think the house
is quite close I don’t bother to stop and offer them a lift. About fifteen minutes
later I get a plaintive call from Graeme. They are lost and have ended up in a
field of goats. I drive off to rescue them.
Back at the game the pace has speeded up a bit. Another wicket has been lost
while we were still at lunch but the next pair put on over a hundred runs are put
on by the next break. Lindsay and I decide it’s time to go. We have dogs to
deal with and I want to go back to the office to check on e-mails.
At the office I receive a telephone call from a solicitor who acted against the
couple to whom I have taken a dislike. He gives me some very interesting
information which, if correct, indicates that not only have they been deceitful but
also acted criminally. He swears me to secrecy but says all will be revealed
soon.
Lindsay tells me we have nothing to eat at home so we will have to eat out. It’s
not often I complain about food but I order a Surf and Turf which comes without
and Surf. The steak is a beautiful piece of meat but it’s drowned in a chilli
sauce as, when they arrive, are the prawns. I complain that the meal is almost
uneatable and I wouldn’t have ordered it had it said on the menu that it was
cooked in a chilli sauce.
Day 295 – Saturday. The electrician appears. I have forgotten to ‘phone him to
tell him I have solved the problem. He cleans the corrosion anyway and
suggests we give the batteries a really good boost.
My agreement with Lindsay is that I would walk the dogs and she would go to
St. John’s to do the shopping, something she of which has become fairly
neglectful. Having walked the dogs, Lindsay suggests we go to St. Johns
together. In a way, it’s not too bad an idea. I have discovered that the reason
we are getting cold showers is nothing to do with low battery power. The gas
cylinder which runs the boiler is empty and we have to get it refilled rather

eplaced. I load it into the car which, despite being empty, fills the car with gas.
Lindsay refuses to allow me to smoke.
The place where the cylinders are refilled is closed on Saturdays. On our list of
tasks is a visit to a second hand shop to try to buy a small sofa so we can
repossess the one now taken over by the dogs. We find quite a nice, slightly
damaged, cane chaise longue for EC$299. We buy it and it fits in the back of
the car although I am not sure where all the shopping will go. That fits in as
well.
Back home the dogs take to the chaise as though it was always theirs, probably
helped by the fact that Lindsay has reoccupied her sofa.
Lindsay says she doesn’t want to go to the Tot. I quite like Saturdays,
somehow they seem more sociable so I say I will go and collect a DVD on the
way home. I select two but without the aid of my glasses I am not entirely sure
what I am selecting. I ask the girl behind the desk and she’s not a lot of help.
She says they are both good so I take them both and, when I get home, Lindsay
says we have already seen them both.
Day 296 – Sunday. It’s quarter past nine and I am washing up the breakfast
things and the power runs out. It’s never done it at this time especially as the
sun has been shining for a few hours. For a change, it’s Lindsay who’s in the
shower.
By the time I get the generator charging which is now a bit of a fiddle, we are
running late for Keep Fit. Typical of Sandy, he appears as I am just getting out
of the shower. Whenever Sandy appears we are about to go out. He wants to
talk but Lindsay manages to get rid of him.
Keep Fit is tough. The others have either started at the top or have gone on
ahead leaving me to tackle the lower section with the new weedwhacker which
is very heavy. The trail is very overgrown and it takes me all of the two hours to
cover about four hundred yards. About three quarters of the way through I run
out of petrol and walk back to the car. I take the opportunity to telephone terry
and ask him to send down a couple of people to clear the mess I have made on
the trail. By the time we finish I am shattered, so is Lindsay who was using our,
smaller weedwhacker.
A siesta is required after lunch but sandy seems to be doing something in his
garden and the dogs continually bark every time they hear his voice. The
chance of getting any rest is nil.
We have decided not to go to the Tot when Mike Rose rings. Anne has gone to
the airport to collect fourteen relatives and the queues to Immigration are all the
way out onto the tarmac. Mike asks if we can give him a lift. We agree.

Day 297 – Monday. I set off early to St. John’s with the gas cylinder and arrive
at the refill station. After waiting a while to be attended to I am asked if I know
about the deposit introduced by West Indies Oil. I point out I have brought my
own cylinder. I am told it makes no difference. I have to pay the deposit
anyway in addition to the cost of the refill. I haven’t enough cash on me so
have to go to the bank. When I return I am asked to fill in a form which includes
directions to the house. Since I am not asking them to deliver so I am not sure
why they need directions. I ask but don’t get an answer. When, eventually, I
manage to get my order accepted, they tell me to come back on Thursday to
collect the cylinder. That means three more days of cold showers.
A telephone call from a friend tells me about a piece of land near one of his
friends. I know the piece but have never looked at it because the agents have
quoted a price which I think is to high. By a circuitous route I end up speaking
to the owner. The price he quotes is a lot lower than that of the agent. I agree
to meet with his surveyor. We have nothing to lose as nothing seems to be
happening with the house.
I am acting as Rum Steward again with David M-S. He’s never done it before
and doesn’t want to do the readings. There are something like twenty guests
and everything gets a bit chaotic. David is proposing the toast and, much to his
embarrassment, gets the wrong one.
Day 298 – Tuesday. Lindsay was supposed to go to St. John’s with the banking
but as I have to go to see a customs broker at the airport and she is going, later,
to a meeting of the Board of the Amazing Grace Foundation, it’s me who sets
off early in the morning.
I have to be back in time for a meeting with Geoffrey to review the lease on the
restaurant below the yacht club. I am on time. He’s half an hour late. He picks
up on a couple of typographical errors I have made and suggests a few minor
alterations with which I agree. He still finds it staggering that I can write a
twelve page lease (now thirteen since I am having to do it U.S. letter [smaller]
paper). I point out, as we have discovered with the current lease, that if you
don’t cover everything, the bit you leave out comes back and bites you.
Just after three the surveyor for the plot rings and suggests we meet. I know
where the plot is but he takes me to the wrong place. When we do get to the
right place he is not sure of the exact position of the boundaries. Typical
Antigua. The location is quite good but the access is bad. If we don’t get any
further with the house, it’s a possibility.
At the Tot four guests of Mike Rose turn up but he has not. It’s a punishable
offence and he gets off lightly with a fine of a bottle of port. It could have been
four bottles or even a Court Martial. Others have been Court Martialled for less.

Day 299 – Wednesday. Tracy is supposed to start work today. She
telephone’s me just before ten to apologise. She has taken her car in for
servicing and it is taking longer than she expected. She eventually arrives at
twelve thirty. She’s English not Antiguan but, I suppose she was reliant on an
Antiguan. My e-mails to potential customers seems to be working. She is
getting interest almost immediately.
Alexis ‘phones to say the Inland Revenue are after us for education Tax and
Social Security. After Lindsay does a bit of checking, it appears it’s payable on
our salaries. We haven’t paid ourselves anything so we shouldn’t owe any tax
but it might be worth paying and sorting out later.
Lindsay has brought the dogs into the office as she was out playing chess this
morning and they have been on their own for quite a bit. After a while, they get
restless and guess who has to take them for a walk. I get a few stares walking
dogs around English Harbour wearing a tie (me, not the dogs).
A call to the solicitor and she’s out so I leave a message for her to ring back.
She doesn’t.
Day 300 – Thursday. I have to go to St. John’s to collect the gas cylinder so
that we can have hot showers. Lindsay is going to Jolly Harbour and I ask if
she will drop in some more Guides to a couple of locations which means I have
to go to the office to collect them.
On my way into St. John’s I call into the High Court. I have been told something
about the couple who, allegedly, attempted to defraud one of the Tot members
out of a sum of money. Rather than take at face value what I have heard I
decide to check it for myself. The information is available at the Court but they
can’t find the file but I get enough of a confirmation to show my informant is
right.
There is no one to help me lift the cylinder into the car. It weighs more than a
hundredweight. I get it in with a struggle. Back home Lindsay helps me remove
it and is surprised I ever got it in. Connected I check the water and it’s hot.
As I go to leave Lindsay suggests I take the dogs to the office. I agree and they
are very good for the first couple of hours but then get bored. It doesn’t take
them very long to empty Lindsay’s waste paper basket and proceed to tear the
contents to sheds. I clear up the mess and get back to work. They’ve had
enough action for a while but not for long. The bin is emptied again and the
contents further shredded. I could employ them to shred all the confidential
documents (if I had any). It would be cheaper than a machine.
It’s games night at the yacht club and I received a telephone call to ensure I
would be available to make up a fourth at bridge. When the time comes I find

that the game has started without me and I am not needed. It doesn’t worry me
too much.
Lindsay doesn’t want to cook so we get a couple of take-away pizzas.
Day 301 – Friday. Only one thing on note happens in the office all day. Our
solicitors rings and suggest we speak directly to the vendor of the house. I try
without success.
Having spent the whole day in to office, not even going out for lunch so, by six, I
am ready for the Tot, not that I have much choice as I am still Rum Steward.
Tonight’s venue is in the Dockyard and driving in the Dockyard is restricted to
essential use. At this time of day, the Dockyard is quiet and the guards allow
fairly free movement. Often the barrier is just left open except there is one
guard who is always difficult. He lets me in with the various bits I have to carry
but says I must bring my car out when I have delivered the books, etc.. On my
return there is a major hold-up at the gate. David, my co-Rum Steward is
arguing with the guard who won’t let him in. The police have been called.
Eventually, I park my car inside the Dockyard and return to my duties. When
David finally appears, policeman in tow, he produces a pass which doesn’t
expire until December 2006 however, as the date is written in the American
fashion, the guard has refused to accept it is valid. David had requested a
police escort into the Dockyard. When I saw the confrontation I presumed the
police had arrived at the behest of the guard and (light heartedly) I spread the
rumour around the Tot that David was being arrested which was not an
unreasonable conclusion as David can be a bit obstreperous. The reverse
proved to be true.
Day 302 – Saturday. We are taking the dogs for a swim early in the morning.
One of the problems with so many free ranging sheep and goats are the
number of tics the dogs pick up. Despite all the possible remedies it never
seems possible to totally cure them. A swimming lesson may drown them (the
tics not the dogs). Lindsay goes for a run and I agree to meet her at Galleon
Beach an quarter to eight. As I arrive so do several hundred school children. I
suggest we go to Pigeon Beach instead. On Pigeon Beach we meet a friend
who is walking his dog. Nissan, who normally likes all other dogs, takes a
dislike to this one and attacks him. Fortunately, Nissan is on a lead and the
other dog couldn’t care less.
We take the dogs into the water. Sunny loves it but Nissan is much more
cautious. Sunny is a very inelegant swimmer, lost of splashing and very frantic.
Seeing Sunny swim away from the shore Nissan ventures in. He is a much
more refined and stronger swimmer but is still a bit nervous and wants to head
for the beach. His confidence is not helped when Sunny decides she want a
rest and places he front paws on his head, pushing him under the water. I am
left looking after the dogs while Lindsay goes for a short swim. I never get more

than waist deep. Later, Graeme asks if my lower half has shrivelled away, so
surprised is he that I went into the water.
What seemed like a good idea turned out to not such a good one. Two wet
dogs covered in sand and jumping around the inside of a car is not to be
recommended. I spend about an hour cleaning the inside of the car.
Several more attempts to contact the vendor of the house are met with an
answerphone although someone at the school where she works tells me she is
ill.
All that cleaning and the shock to the system of going in the sea has left me
exhausted so I laze around for the rest of the day until I have to do my last Rum
Steward duty of the week. We arrive at the Dockyard to see a policeman on
duty. Rather than push our luck we park outside. It is only later we discover
that the policeman is there to facilitate our entry.
At home we put on a video. It’s an old film recorded from the television in 1994.
At the end of the film it switches to Coronation Street. Lindsay is ecstatic but it
obviously doesn’t hold her attention for long as she falls asleep before the
advert. break.
Day 303 – Sunday. I am up early to prepare for today’s racing. A yacht has
anchored in the outer reaches of Falmouth Harbour almost exactly where I want
to lay a buoy. Fortunately, I can see the whole race course from the house so I
nip into the office to print a modified course. As usual, anything done in haste
gets screwed up and I make some errors and have to redo it, twice.
The person who is supposed to assist me with the racing doesn’t turn up so I
prepare everything myself even to the extent of making a couple of weights to
attach to the floating lines by which the buoys are moored. I check the engine
on the committee boat to make sure it starts, load on the anchors for the buoys
(concrete blocks) and prepare the flags and race kit. By ten o’clock, only one
boat has signed on. At the fifteen I abandon the race, somewhat frustrated by
the lack of enthusiasm, lock up the club and join Lindsay for Keep Fit. I am glad
I am late as they have left me the heavy weedwhacker to use. My shoulders
haven’t yet recovered from last week. I am quite pleased when after an hour, it
begins to rain and Lindsay an I head back to the cars, the others joining us in
stages, more wet than we are. A couple of Bloody Mary’s at the Galley Bar
soon puts a bit of life back into me.
One good piece of news. Whilst waiting for people to come and sign on for
racing, I manage to contact the vendor of the house. We agree to meet on
Tuesday.
Having been to the Tot every night during the week, my rum Steward duty now
over, we give tonight a miss but the downside is, I have to cook dinner. I rate

that as unfair since I ‘cooked’ lunch, at least, since I paid for our cheeseburgers
at the Galley Bar I claim that as me cooking.
Day 304 – Monday. The internet is down, yet again. Cable & Wireless are
supposed to have upgraded their service but all it’s done is make it worse. We
are getting more breakdowns and more e-mails just disappearing into nowhere.
Cable & Wireless have even sent out an apology.
All at Sea arrived on the island on Friday and Lindsay and I drive to the airport
to collect them. I still can’t make up my mind whether it’s useful for us to deliver
them to the distribution points thereby getting to know some contacts or whether
to get someone to do it for us.
On our way around we stop at the Post Office. There is a card saying that the
DVD I have ordered has arrived but we have to go to the main Post Office in
town to collect it with the usual palaver of Customs. There is nowhere to park so
Lindsay drives around while I go into the Post Office. The service is amazingly
quick but Lindsay, expecting me to be ages, has gone on an expedition so I am
left standing on the road side for ten minutes.
Having made arrangement to meet the vendor of the house tomorrow, I go
through the agreement with a fine tooth comb and make a few minor
modifications. It’s taken so long to get to here that some of the dates in the
agreement have been passed.
Day 305 – Tuesday. There is a message on my ‘phone from the vendor of the
house cancelling our meeting. She wants it now for Wednesday. I ring back
and leave a message agreeing to Wednesday. When I get in the office I realise
this clashes with something else I am doing. I contact the vendor and ask if we
can make an alternative time for today. She says she will ring me back but
doesn’t.
The internet is down again but this time it’s something to do with us internally. I
can connect by cable or wirelessly to other networks but not wirelessly to our
own. I suspect something next door is interfering again with our router. It turns
out I’m right. He has used the IP address of our router for his new internet
camera so our network keeps looking at his camera and gets confused.
Despite having started on the 2007 edition early, business is surprisingly brisk
which leads Lindsay to think that the magazine has been underexploited over
the past few years and has more potential than we realised. We have already
had bookings for about a quarter of the space but, as they are prime positions,
it’s nearer a third of the revenue. Some have even paid in advance which is
nice as we are still chasing quite a bit from last year.
Day 306 – Wednesday. As I am driving from the office to pick up Lindsay from
home, a call from the vendor of the house we are trying to buy tells me that her

daughter is ill and she can’t make the ten o’clock meeting. She postpones it
until tomorrow. I am coming to the end of my patience. I had even arranged for
the key to the office to be left with a neighbour for Tracy who is coming in to do
some work for me. I turn around and go back to work.
Tracy is quite surprised to see me. She is quite good at selling and generates
some interest from people who have refused in the past. I set her on selling
advertising for All at Sea as well. Because of where the ‘phones and computers
are in the office, it makes it a bit awkward for Lindsay to work in the office as
well so she takes the day off (having been into St. John’s to do the banking and
some shopping).
Callie calls in late afternoon wanting Tracy and me to have a drink with her. We
had a vague sort of arrangement but I had forgotten that I have a Board
meeting at the yacht club apart from which I am having endless problems with
the internet. We can send e-mails but not receive them. It’s a complicated
story but I have been sending large files over the internet from my Mac to my
PC as the two won’t ‘talk’ to each other in any normal way. I wonder whether I
have exceeded my mailbox capacity with Cable & Wireless and check on their
website. I am well under my capacity but empty it anyway. I ring Cable &
Wireless who tell me they are having problems with their website. I give up and
leave the office arriving at my Board meeting rather early.
Someone who arrives late at the Board meeting apologises but says he had to
go home and change as he felt he had to try to dress to my standard. The
meeting is fairly brief as the club is entertaining a group of sailing kids from the
U.S..
Day 307 – Thursday. Lindsay goes for a run so I have to walk the dogs. They
don’t get a very long walk as it starts to rain and while they don’t seem to object
to getting wet, I do.
Knowing we won’t have much electricity, I start the generator but the voltmeter
fluctuates between 110 and 150 volts, not enough to kick start the inverter. A
couple of times I get it up to about 240 volts which does start the inverter but it
drops out again when the voltage falls below 200. I can’t get more than a few
moments charge. Fortunately, I have booked an engineer to come to see it
today. If he turns up. It’s very overcast so we are not going to have much of a
charge from the solar panels.
Lindsay goes for a shower first and I am concerned that the power supply won’t
last. It’s my turn and despite Graeme’s continual comments about me always
being under the shower covered in soap when the power goes off, I think this is
the first time it has actually happened. I get out of the shower and reboot the
inverter a few times to pressurise the water system which just gives me enough
water to finish my shower. As we are heading of the St. John’s at quarter past

nine it’s too late for me to now go into the office and get back in time to pick up
Lindsay.
We arrive at the restaurant where we are meeting the vendor of the house at
precisely ten. I order a coffee, Lindsay a chocolate and a fruit covered pasty
which I emulate. There is the first edition of a glossy property magazine on the
counter, price EC$10. Lindsay picks it up. As we sit down I see the vendor
drive past in her car. The car park is out of sight but I presume she is coming to
see us. She appears with two kids in tow and sits down. I explain all the detail
of the contract and she agrees to sign it. I get one of the waitresses as a
witness. We agree to deliver the deposit to her solicitor and she gets up and
goes. We go to the bank and collect the bankers draft and then onto our
solicitors. On the way Lindsay is looking at the documents. I have made a bit
of an error. Being used to agreements and counterparts in the U.K., I have
produced two documents, one for the vendor to sign and one for us. Here, it’s
all one document. We just sign the one already signed by the vendor.
The vendor’s solicitor is just around the corner from ours. We leave the car
outside our solicitor’s office and walk. As we are about to return it starts to rain
again. I tell Lindsay I will fetch the car. Big mistake, I had forgotten to take
account of St. John’s one way system. I have to drive all the way round a block
to get to Lindsay who is fifty yards away. Worse still, I am now in a one way
street going in entirely the opposite direction to the way I want to go. Small
penalty, I suppose, for getting the contract signed and I did manage to sneak in
a few clause to our benefit of which I am sure the vendor’s solicitor would have
disapproved.
It’s nearly lunch time so I stay at home to eat. Lindsay asks if we should
celebrate. I suggest there yet may be a few hurdles to overcome. Lindsay says
it’s all a bit of an anti-climax but still wants to take a bottle of Asti Spumante (a
gift from someone) and drink it at the house. I say she could take it to the
house and pour the bottle over it. It might remove some of the unwanted paint.
I’m certainly not going to drink any of it.
I still can’t receive any e-mails so I ring Cable & Wireless again. They tell me
my mailbox is full. I tell them I am looking at my mailbox and it has nearly 50K
of space in it. It transpires that Cable & Wireless have change the web address
and I am looking at a redundant page. Pity they didn’t tell me that when they
switched over. They probably sent me an e-mail which is still lost somewhere in
their system. I log onto the new page and find my mailbox is full of all the date I
was trying to send from my Mac to my PC. Somebody has to get onto this
island with a decent e-mail system.
Tracy rings. She has sold her first page and has a cheque.
An e-mail from Rob and Amanda asks if there’s any work available on the
island. I contact the Inland Revenue who I have heard are looking for qualified

staff. They ask for Amanda’s C.V.. I also contact a local marine engineering
company for Rob and they ask for a C.V.. A few minutes later they arrive by e-
mail and I send Rob’s on by e-mail and print and fax Amanda’s.
Rob and Amanda should be here tomorrow and so will my brother who gives
me a bit of a fright. He telephones. It’s about the time he should be getting out
of the airport – tomorrow. I have visions of him standing at the terminal waiting
for me. Having done it (waiting for Lindsay) I know what it feels like. He’s not.
He’s just ringing me to say that he has decided to book into Gravetye Manor
rather than drive down in the morning to Gatwick. Having stayed there and
eaten there fairly often including with Rob and Amanda just before we left the
U.K., I tell him he will enjoy it and it has one of the best wine cellars in England.
We are due at neighbours for drinks at six so I need to close up the office early.
The man hasn’t been to repair the generator so we leave just one light on.
The house we go to is in about the same state of repair as the one we are
buying and, although it looks a lot bigger, it is, in fact, quite small and the view,
despite being well up on the hillside, is not great, however, the gins they pour
are enormous and despite asking for less gin and more tonic, our hosts don’t
take much notice. We get away at about nine and it’s just as well it’s downhill
home.
Just as Lindsay starts dinner the power goes off. Fortunately, we are cooking
on gas and have plenty of torches and candles.
Day 308 – Friday. Lindsay asks me to take the dogs into the office so she can
do some house cleaning. I think this is just a shifting of the work load as the
dogs always decide to empty the waste bins and shred the contents over the
floor and I end up cleaning the office. Fortunately, Lindsay collects them at
lunch time but not until I have twice swept the floor.
I am to collect Simon (brother) and Kathie (sister-in-law) from the airport. The
flight lands a five past three. They are stopping off in Antigua for a few days on
their way to a Board meeting in Puerto Rica. Allowing for Customs and
Immigration, I plan to leave the office at three but e-mails keep coming in and
the yacht club wants me to deliver something. I eventually set off at three
fifteen. Fortunately the traffic is light and I park the car and walk to the terminal.
They appear a few minutes later. Being one of the first off the ‘plane and taking
my advice on getting through Immigration quickly or as quickly as you can, they
then had to wait for their bags which were among the last off. Just as well
otherwise they would have been hanging around waiting for me.
I drive then to the Inn on English Harbour and we are all slightly disappointed by
the room. It’s supposed to be their best. I think the Copper & Lumber is better,
however, the Inn does have the benefit of a beach and a pool which the Copper

& Lumber doesn’t. I agree to pick them up again at five thirty. We go to the Tot
but Simon is not feeling well so doesn’t take part. We stay at HQ’s for dinner.
Day 309 – Saturday. It’s another generator story. Yesterday, the generator
engineer came to fix it. It worked in the evening. This morning it isn’t. I ring
him and he tells me to bring it in. Not an easy task as two of the plastic wheels I
bought have buckled under the weight and the heat. Fortunately, anticipating
that I would have to move it some day, I had purchased a couple of metal
wheels. Once fitted and the old ramp, now buried in grass and crawling with
termites, rescued, Lindsay and I struggle the generator into the back of the car.
Whilst all this is going on it’s pouring with rain.
In St. John’s it’s brilliant sunshine. I am told the generator will not be repaired
today so I ask for loan generator. They dig one out. It has no wheels. It takes
five of us to lift it into the car. On the way home I buy four wheels and eight
washers. I have some split pins at home and some aluminium tube to make
spacers so that the wheels do not rub on the body of the generator. The real
difficulty is now fitting the wheels with the generator still in the back of the car.
Propping it up on a block of concrete I prepare everything. The hole in the
middle of the washers is a millimetre too small for the axle. I borrow Lindsay’s
car and go out to buy eight more. All this time it’s still raining. Front wheels
fitted there is no way I can get to the back. The only solution is to roll the front
down the ramp and slide the back down on a piece of cardboard. It works.
Everything connected up the generator starts and runs beautifully. It comes up
to full charge but the inverter will not kick in. Evidently, there is something
wrong with the inverter. By over-revving the engine I can get the inverter to kick
in but the charge it will accept is miserable.
We are out to a lunch party which starts at twelve thirty. We are the last, of
thirty two people, to arrive at quarter past one. It’s well after four and I am
supposed to pick up Simon and Kathy at five thirty and the dogs haven’t been
fed and walked. I leave Lindsay enjoying herself and say I will pick her up on
the way back.
Rob and Amanda join us at the Tot and we all go to Le Cap Horn, a French
restaurant, for dinner.
Day 310 – Sunday. We are going to Keep Fit but only for an hour or so as I
have to be at the yacht club by one for the prize-giving for the Laser National
Championships. I’m glad it’s quite short as I feel a bit worn out after yesterday’s
exertions.
After a shower and change I pick up Simon and Kathy and we go to the yacht
club. The racing finished early so they had the prize-giving early and it’s all
over. Thanks for telling me. We stay and have lunch in the restaurant below
the club.

I have a meeting at four at Calabash. I tell Simon and Kathy to walk along the
beach from their hotel to Calabash at between five thirty and six. The meeting
is of the Full Members of the Tot Club to prepare for the AGM on Wednesday.
At the end of the meeting a copy e-mail is passed around by my two least
favourite people purporting to exonerate them of all blame in their dealings with
another Tot Club member. It is rather disingenuous as it is only one of
numerous e-mails. I begin to tackle them on the issue but Terry decides the
rest of the members ought not to be involved and I have a half hour face to face
meeting with the husband in which I tell him exactly what I think. It soon
becomes apparent that the wife is the ‘brains’ behind their little ‘enterprises’.
Simon decides to have a Tot and I have to introduce him. You are supposed to
say something about your guest so I say Simon has two advantages over me,
he’s younger and wealthier but then I have two advantages over him, I live in
Antigua and I’m better looking. It goes down reasonably well.
We stay and have dinner at Calabash.
Day 311 – Monday. I am trying to take some time off as Simon and Kathy want
to look at the house we are buying and the one we currently live in. I have
agreed to pick them up at twelve but it’s a bit of a rush to get out of the office.
We drive to the new house where Lindsay is already with the dogs. She has
tied them to the veranda but Nissan, not happy with being tied up, has chewed
through his lead. Both dogs tied up again, they decide to try to escape through
the veranda railings and onto the roof of the staircase leading to the lower floor.
I can see that veranda/dog security is going to be a major issue.
We show Simon & Kathy around the house and point out our ideas and they
come up with a few of their own some of which, in part, we may incorporate.
We are accosted by a gardener who says he worked for the previous owner.
That’s now two gardeners who claim to have worked for the previous owner.
We then go back to our house where I leave Lindsay with Simon and Kathy as
some of us have to work. They are going to spend some time on the beach.
As we are having drink on Rob and Amanda’s boat and the last Atlantic rower,
a single girl, is due into English Harbour, I agree to pick them up at four fifteen.
I am delayed by someone who has come to collect a cheque and will not stop
talking so I don’t get there until four thirty. Simon comments on the breakdown
of my usual impeccable reliability and blames it on the diary which I have e-
mailed just before leaving the office and which he has received on his
Blackberry. I correct his misconception.
Amanda mentions that Teddy has been rescued from Panama and is on his
way back to Antigua. We discuss ways of getting him back to Tina in the U.K.,
difficult now as we have introduced a rule to say he cannot travel by post.

Lindsay says that if he appears in the house he will definitely end up as dog
food.
The Atlantic rower is in the Dockyard and can hardly stand up. She looks rather
too small to have rowed all that way which is probably why it took her about a
month longer than the next slowest rower.
The Tot is on board Tenacious after which we go to the Antigua Yacht Club
Restaurant, no connection with the club. I am not too keen on going as past
experiences have not been too good. I am not disappointed. I eat only a little
of my meal and when the waiter asks if we enjoyed our meal I tell him I didn’t
think it was very good and that I had eaten better food elsewhere for a lot less.
Simon says he thinks it’s not what the waiter wanted to hear. I comment that he
shouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want the truth.
Day 312 – Tuesday. Lindsay is taking Simon and Kathy to Jolly Harbour and
St. John’s while I go into the office. I let her take my car which means I am
stuck with her’s.
Several visitors to the office prevent me from getting on with what I want to do
which is half personal and half business. I am trying to line up contractors to
work on the house. In addition to the visitors, Lindsay keeps ringing me to ask
me to book restaurants for lunch today (for her, Simon and Kathy) and dinner
for us all this evening. Not all restaurants are open on Tuesdays.
Lindsay is taking Simon and Kathy for a bit of a tour of the island starting in St.
John’s and ending up in Harmony Hall. She manages to get herself
comprehensively lost.
The Tot Club AGM is at three but doesn’t get started until three thirty. I know
the accounts are going to be a contentious issue (apparently they have been for
the past few years and Lindsay is taking them over for this year). It is my
opinion that there is no necessity to present the accounts to the meeting as
none of the members attending have any rights or responsibilities therefore the
accounts are privileged information and the property of the proprietors of the
club. This does not go down well with a few members and the discussion gets
quite heated. Fortunately, my point of view, more or less, prevails and the
members are given a note of the opening balance, income, expenditure and the
closing balance. There is no discussion on the detail of the accounts. The
AGM winds up just in time for the Tot.
It’s Simon and Kathy’s last night and we go to dinner at Alberto’s where the food
is good and the proprietor thinks he’s a comedian.
Day 313 – Wednesday. I have agreed to pick up Simon and Kathy at quarter to
one to drive them to the airport. I manage to get a few hours work in before
doing so and Tracy is in the office working on additional sales.

We are still waiting for our vendor’s Non-citizens Landholding Licence or proof
of citizenship. I ring our solicitor who says she has received the proof of
citizenship but points out it was granted after she bought the property therefore
we still need her Non-citizens Landholding Licence. I agree with her that I can
collect it from her solicitor.
Loading the luggage in the back of the car I manage to close the tailgate on my
forehead which causes it to bleed and, subsequently, give me a raging
headache. Simon wants to have a look at the office so I drive him and Kathy
around where Lindsay is waiting to say goodbye.
After dropping them at the airport, I drive into St. John’s to collect the Noncitizens
Landholding Licence and the copy of the proof of citizenship. We can
now submit our application for a Non-citizens Landholding Licence. In
completing the forms I notice that there is a caution on one of the plots of land
(the house is built over two separately registered plots) in favour of the vendors
ex-husband. When I tell Lindsay she is furious and wants to tell the vendor we
have had enough and withdraw. I tell her that could be expensive as we have
paid the deposit. I send e-mails to the vendor and our solicitor requesting
clarification.
Day 314 – Thursday. We need to get our Non-citizens Land Holders Licence
application signed and I suggest Lindsay comes into the office and we get one
of our neighbours to sign. We check the forms and Lindsay points out we have
forgotten copies of our passports. She goes home to get them.
Everything complete, I drive into St. John’s calling in at the generator supplier
on the way as the latest one he has loaned us has now died as well. He’s not
in. I say I will call back.
I go to the Ministry of Agriculture where the forms need to be submitted. There
is a problem. The vendor is supposed to have supplied us with two Noncitizens
Land Holders Licences as there are two plots and one is required for
each. Back to the vendors solicitors for a copy of the other one except, this
time, I am dealt with by the solicitor rather than the receptionist and she wants a
load of answers before giving me the form. It’s just after twelve when I return to
the Ministry of Agriculture and the man I need to see is at lunch. I have to go to
the band so I say I will return later.
Before going back I revisit our generator man and tell him we need a permanent
solution. I offer to do a deal. He agrees to sell me new, upgraded generator at
half price plus repair the old one free so that we will have two generators. I
agree.
I return to the Ministry of Agriculture at about half past one. My man is still at
lunch. I decide to wait in the car although I do get distracted by a rather mangy

ut very friendly and extremely thin dog. I am tempted to take her home and if I
had any food or a shop was nearby, I would have fed her. Two o’clock and
there is still no sign of my man. In fact, there has been no staff in his office
since twelve. I decide to give it another fifteen minutes and set my stopwatch.
When the fifteen minutes is up I can’t turn of the stop watch and fiddle with it for
a couple of minutes during which time a lady appears in the office. I give her
the extra Non-citizens Land Holders Licence and start to explain everything
when ‘my man’ appears. We get everything sorted.
The Tot is a t the yacht club followed by ‘games night’. I have agreed to meet
the solo female Atlantic rower and do an interview. She is a bit surprised when
I don’t take notes. I tell her I don’t need to as my memory for such things is
quite good. She tells me the trip cost her £70,000 so I am not too surprised
when she asks if I will buy her a drink.
We have an excellent game of bridge. The cards are falling so well we even
end up with an audience.
Day 315 – Friday. Up early to take the generator yet again into St. John’s.
Lindsay and I really struggle to get it into the back of the car. I have made the
mistake of putting the heavy end on the ramp first. Nearly dropping it several
times, we eventually get it up the ramp and secured.
I am somewhat surprised when the generator supplier expects me to take two
back with me. It’s not possible to get both in lengthways so one has to go in
sideways. I am not sure how Lindsay and I are going to get the sideways one
out without help. Before loading I insist on switching over the wheels as the
ones I put on the loan machine are a lot better than the ones on the new
machine. The two just fit in but the front wheels of the car are only just touching
the ground. I drive very slowly. Despite this, one of the machines begins to
move around. Not expecting to bring back two generators, I only have enough
rope to secure one. I stop at a builders merchants and buy some more.
With much less difficulty than I expected, Lindsay and I get both out of the back.
I suppose gravity helps, a little too much as we nearly lose control of the new
one on the ramp. I connect up the new generator and everything works
perfectly. I just wonder for how long.
Rob and Amanda call in the office to say goodbye. They
are leaving for St. Martin tomorrow. As the Tot is in the
Dockyard tonight, I suggest we meet up later.
Writing the article on the female Atlantic rower, I take a
look at her website in case there is anything I may have
missed. There’s only one thing. She’s Teddy fanatic.

For the benefit of Tina, Rob and Amanda, here’s a photo of a Teddy which
rowed across the Atlantic. His name is Monty. I begin hatching further
schemes for our Teddy assuming he arrives here before she leaves.
Rob and Amanda are off to St. Martin tomorrow so we meet up for a quick drink
before they set off to dinner with some friends who had come across on the
Rally with them.
Day 316 – Saturday. I am supposed to be helping move stuff from the yacht
club to the beach at Carlisle Bay where there is going to be a weekend party.
When I arrive it’s almost all done. More cool boxes are needed I go home to
collect ours and ten bags of ice from the local supermarket.
At Carlisle Bay mine is the only cool box to have arrived so I break down the ice
as much as possible and jam it into my box, just. A couple of sun awnings need
to be erected and four of us set to building them. At first we can’t find any
instructions and there are thirty six numbered poles which need to be fitted
together in a particular sequence. Fortunately, someone finds the instructions.
The second awning goes up much more quickly.
We meet with the guy who is to clear the garden at the new house and I
measure all the windows and external doors so we can get some prices.
We decide to take a night off from the Tot and stay in to watch a DVD which
Rob and Amanda have lent us.
Day 317 – Sunday. I am starting a race from Falmouth to Carlisle Bay and plan
a course to take the boats around a few of the marks in the harbour before the
set off. Between preparing the course and arriving at the yacht club a
catamaran has anchored exactly where I want to start the race. I think I may
still be able to do it but when I go out to lay a buoy I realise it’s not possible.
Unfortunately I have given out the course so I have to make a quick alteration
and call the boats over to be given new ones. I have arranged with another
boat to finish the race in Carlisle Bay. By the time I have lifted the anchor on
the committee boat (I am on my own) and collected the buoy I laid, cleared up
the boat and put everything back in the club, it’s quite late. Lindsay rings as I
am driving home to find out if I have drowned. I assure her I haven’t.
We set off by car to join the party on the beach at Carlisle Bay and I am given
the finish times of the boats. They want to announce the results. Fortunately I
have brought a calculator with me which is in the car. All the food for the party
has been donated but is being charged at EC$10 per head which, together with
an auction, must have raised around EC$10,000 all of which is being donated to
the Amazing Grace Foundation.
During the afternoon a very skinny Doberman wanders up obviously looking for
food. I haven’t finished mine so give it what is uneaten. The dog finds the

ead roll hard to eat so I break it up. The dig takes t very gently from my
fingers. Feeling rather sorry for the dog, I go and buy another meal and feed it
only to discover the dog has been conning people all weekend. It’s probably
had more food in two days than in the past month. We leave somewhat later
than we expected.
Day 318 – Monday. I need to speak to Lindsay who is at home. As usual her
‘phone is switched off. I print out a large sign which I will pin up at home to
remind her to turn it on.
The gardening gang should be starting on the land at the house. Although they
have quoted a price it rather seems to be dependent upon the number of men
used and the number of days. Having originally pinned them down to EC$1,300
it now seems a bit more flexible, however, on Lindsay’s visit before lunch there
are only three of them working instead of five.
Eventually, Lindsay and I have agreed on the kind of doors and windows we
want and I have done some designs to get quotes. There are only two wooden
window manufacturers in Antigua and getting hold of them is not easy.
Word has obviously got around that we are doing something with the house. I
have an appointment with a builder tomorrow and another rings asking if he can
quote. Why not? I know the other builder is good and reliable but it does no
harm to have some competition.
I go to the house just after four and there is no one in sight. From the
description Lindsay gave me of what was done when she called I suspect they
did not stay much longer after she left. At this rate, four to five days to do the
work could become an Antiguan four to five days.
The Tot Club has called a meeting of Full Members at five fifteen to discuss
providing and outboard motor to someone who is on hard times and has
difficulty getting onto her boat where she lives. There is also a suggestion of
providing a boarding ladder and some lights. We agree to provide the ladder
and lights but, on my suggestion, we withhold the outboard until the person has
booked herself into Crossroads, an alcoholic rehabilitation centre. I and others
are concerned that the outboard will disappear and we feel we should take a
responsible attitude both with Tot Club money and in trying to get the lady to
consider some treatment. We feel the outboard could provide some leverage.
We also decide to contact her family in Canada.
Day 319 – Tuesday. My turn to walk the dogs so I take them down to the beach
again. A ‘friend’ of theirs has turned up but they have always been on leads
when they have met in the past so I let them off to play together. Whilst they
are splashing around in the water, Nissan suddenly finds himself out of his
depth so decides to go for a swim. Sunny, not to be outdone, charges after him
but will not leave his side almost relying on him for physical as well as moral

support. Drenched and covered in sand, I take them home and lock them out
on the veranda. At the front door Nissan and Sunny are reluctant to come in
without their ‘friend’ who has walked back with us. I suggest they should invite
her to ‘tea’ on another day.
There are four men working on the garden at the house and the notice has
worked. Lindsay’s ‘phone is turned on. I am accosted by another gardener
who had wanted the work. I point out that I had already made an agreement
when he approached me. He pesters me to let him do something. I say I will
think about it.
Lindsay has a whole variety of things to do on the north of the island, mainly
collecting money and paying it into the bank plus doing some shopping. I
wonder what she will forget this time.
Lindsay and I meet with a builder at the house to tell him what we want done.
He seems a bit vague but come well recommended and we have seen him at
work building a house near us. The gardeners have disappeared again but
their ‘leader’ returns to collect his money. This time I think his maths favours
him rather than me but I will see how things go next time before querying it.
I have to test a new potential member for the Tot Club. His wife is being tested
by another Full Member. They both prove to have done their homework
extremely well and, by sheer coincidence, both score 97% on their tests.
Day 320 – Wednesday. We meet up with another builder at eight. He’s a lot
more professional and reckons that what we want to do will over double the
value of the house. It makes me wonder whether this is a precursor to him
putting in a high estimate. One thing he suggests had never occurred to me. I
had thought we would build a new pool in the ‘hole’ of the existing one. He says
it will be better to start afresh. If we are going to do that then we will locate it in
a completely different position..
I have to go to St. John’s to get my car serviced, go to the bank, deliver another
eight hundred Marine Guides to the Ministry of Tourism and visit a window
manufacturer to get quotes for new windows. I have been rather held up by the
builder and get further held up by Mike Rose who is waiting for me when I get to
the office. Tracy is supposed to be in but she has gone to Immigration to get
her Work Permit stamped in her passport. She could be there all day.
I arrive at the garage for the service and I am asked if I can leave the car until
after lunch rather than have the ‘while you wait’ service. I can’t so I say I will
return after lunch. With eight heavy boxes to deliver to the Ministry of Tourism
(on the first floor and, being a Government building, the floors are quite high) I
decide to buy a trolley. I find one in a shop where the prices quoted are
meaningless as they always give a 35% discount. The trolley is much bigger
than I want and weighs almost as much as the boxes but it will make delivery

easier. Pulling the trolley containing four boxes up the stairs, one at a time, for
some reason the top step is larger than the rest, or so it seems. Exhausted, I
wonder whether I will manage the second trip. The building is full of women so
no help there. I struggle up a second time and the top step is definitely bigger.
Next time I will employ someone to do it.
I ring the window manufacturer to say I can meet him in half an hour. He’s
delighted as he is in English Harbour. I tell him I am in St. John’s. We agree to
meet at his factory outside St. John’s in three quarters of an hour. I arrive
before him and I am greeted by three very friendly dogs – chained up. Not
much good as guard dogs. I give him my window drawings and he shows me
around the factory. The workmanship seems quite good.
Back at the garage I get a ‘while you wait’ service. This time I have brought a
book with me however, I only get through one chapter by the time they have
finished. I am just leaving when Lindsay rings and asks what I want to do for
lunch. (It’s half one and the garage lunch break is twelve to one). I say I will
come home and take a bit of a break before going back to the office. It’s not
much of a break as my ‘phone keeps ringing and the dogs think I have come
home to play with them.
When I get back to the office all the windows and doors are open. Tracy is at
work and she doesn’t like air conditioning. Not only is the office rather warm but
papers are blowing everywhere. I don’t know how she can work like this but
she seems to prefer it.
An e-mail from the yacht club invites me to join those who helped out at the
weekend to drinks. It rather clashes with the mismuster (induction) of the
person I tested last night. I reply that I will try to get to the club by seven.
Day 321 – Thursday. On the way into the office I call at the new house to see
how the gardeners are getting on. There are only two of them working. The
boss man turns up while I am there and tells me that the other two aren’t
coming. I tell him he’s obviously paying them too much and they don’t need the
money. He agrees. I also drop some drawings into another window
manufacturer.
An e-mail from the Chairman of the Antigua & Barbuda Marine Association says
“Some of your many admirers have nominated you as a possible Director of the
Antigua Barbuda Marine Association.” I am not sure whether to be flattered or
not or whether I want to take on any more commitments. This rather reminds
me of what it was like before I moved to Brighton when I seemed to be involved
in everything. At least, in Brighton, it was only the yacht club.
I receive a call from the person who has, allegedly, attempted to defraud one of
the Tot Club members. He wants to come to see me. Lindsay wants to stay in
the office and listen to what he has to say but he doesn’t arrive until five. He’s

very smooth talker and extremely convincing but I keep reminding myself that
all good con men are very convincing plus, there are a few inconsistencies in
what he has to say. Nothing substantial but enough for me to remain wary. He
doesn’t have a car with him so I have to drive him to the Tot which is at the
yacht club which I would rather have not done. It’s amazing how suspicious
one becomes. I wonder whether I have been set up to make it look as though
peace has broken out between us as we arrive together.
It’s games night at the yacht club which is becoming increasingly popular. I
partner Sandy at bridge but we both have very bad cards and don’t get much of
a game. A lady, relatively new to bridge gets all the good cards but can never
quite make up her mind what to do. The game gets rather dragged out and I
am quite pleased when she has to leave.
Day 322 – Friday. I have to be in the office at eight in order to speak to
someone who will only be in their office at eight or so I am told. At eight o’clock
there is no reply at his office, nor at eight thirty. It’s engaged at a quarter to nine
and continuously until nine when I get through to be told that the person I want
to speak to has been in since eight but has now gone out. Seems rather
implausible.
I have a meeting with the Ministry of Tourism at one. They are planning on
restructuring the whole Ministry into a Tourism Authority however, I think they
will have sack half the Government staff in order to push through want they
want. There are too many vested interests in maintaining the status quo.
The quote comes in for the windows we want built. It is more that I had
anticipated at just under EC$60,000. I hope the quote I am getting elsewhere is
better.
The briefing for the Mega-yacht Challenge and the All Comers Pursuit Race is
at the yacht club at six. As usual, it is an Antigua time six o’clock and the
briefing doesn’t start until quarter to seven. The entry for the Mega-yacht
Challenge is somewhat disappointing with only three entries plus eight for the
All Comers Pursuit Race.
Day 323 – Saturday. As I am not needed for the organization of the racing
Lindsay and I go to the new house to do whatever work we can. Lindsay has
had a go at removing some of the floor tiles and has given up. I have a go with
a club hammer which seems to work quite well but chips of tile shoot up and
before long my arms and legs (I am wearing shorts) are covered in gashes. I
think I will pass the job onto someone else.
Having decided to dispense with the swimming pool and deck and relocate it in
another part of the garden I begin to remove the deck. Ideally. I need a crowbar
and, when Lindsay goes to get some lunch, I suggest she buys one plus a

sledgehammer. By the end of the day I have removed about half the deck and
my hands are a mass of blisters and cuts. I’m getting too old for this lark.
We leave at about four and head home for a shower before going o the yacht
club for the Mega-yacht party calling in for a Tot on the way.
Day 324 – Sunday. Having taken the dogs with us yesterday and tied them up
in the garden where they constantly entangled themselves in bushes we decide
to tie them up on the veranda where they are much happier although Sunny
twice chews through her rope and escapes.
I continue with the removal of the decking plus the pool liner together with all
the pump and filter equipment which is quite valuable and I can see it is likely to
‘grow legs’. Lindsay works away in the garden. I have found a couple of plastic
chairs in the garden (amongst the tons of other rubbish) and set them up on the
veranda for increasingly frequent rests. Something we hadn’t appreciated
before is the really great breeze which comes up the valley. One problem is a
tree which has grown up in the middle of the view. It’s a problem soon solved
with a saw.
By the end of the day I have removed all the decking except in the area where
the steps lead down from the balcony. I now have blisters on my blisters and
am completely physically exhausted. We decide to take the pool equipment
home for safe keeping. The filter is extremely heavy and I manage to drop a
sharp edge on my exposed leg adding one more stream of blood to the several
rivulets already running down them.
We arrive back home after five and are supposed to be going to the prize giving
at the yacht club. There is no way we are moving from the house again today.
Day 325 – Monday. Everything aches and moving is a real effort.
On my way to the office I call at the new house at half eight to have a word with
the guy doing the garden. We are paying for him and four others to clear the
land. Only one is on site. I telephone him and tell him it’s not good enough.
Not only do I want to see more people on site I also want to see them working a
full day. He is somewhat contrite and says he will get more men on site. We
will see.
As I arrive at the office the ‘phone rings. It is the President of the ABMA. He
wants to come to see me. As the internet is down, yet again, he suggests he
comes immediately. He wants to look at the Marine Expo accounts.
Fortunately, I have kept good records and I am able to print off a report and give
him explanations for everything. He then asks if I am prepared to become a
Director of the ABMA. I really have no choice but to agree if we are to become
a full part of this community.

An e-mail from Rob and Amanda tells me that Immigration and Customs are
only open in Nevis from eight to twelve, midday, and as we will be arriving on a
Sunday our ‘guests’ will have to stay on board until they clear Immigration on
Monday. It rather looks as though the trip to Nevis is not going to work out.
I have to make a trip to an advertiser near Jolly Harbour and Lindsay suggests I
collect a cheque from an errant payer. A call to Lindsay tells me they are still
not ready to pay. I chase them in the afternoon and they tell me they have cash
flow difficulties but are about to be taken over. It’s a casino and I always
thought they had a licence to print money.
By four o’clock I am feeling worn out. Obviously, I overdid it at the weekend. I
decide to call it a day and go home.
Day 326 – Tuesday. I can understand why the back of my neck is so sore. As I
was bending over working at the weekend it rather caught the sun. What I
didn’t realize is that it was so burnt that some blisters have formed above my
hairline on my neck. Lindsay had insisted on putting sun cream on my neck but
obviously didn’t go high enough.
A ‘phone call asks me to take on the responsibility of guns for Sailing Week. I
agree as I want to get to know the Committee better.
I have an eleven o’clock appointment with Geoffrey to meet with the tenant of
the restaurant below the yacht club to negotiate the lease and rent.
Surprisingly, she has few questions on the lease but we still go through it almost
line by line. She has more comments on the landlord’s lack of maintenance
than anything else and I am inclined to agree with her. Rent negotiation is a bit
more difficult but we reach a compromise at our minimum position. Geoffrey
decides he wants to stay for lunch and, as I am driving him, it means I have to
stay as well but he’s paying. It turns out to be quite useful as the head of
Sailing Week appears. We have spoken on the ‘phone and exchanged e-mails
regarding the introduction of IRC into Sailing Week but have never met.
During the meeting I get several distressed calls from Lindsay. Her car is
overheating and she has opened the radiator cap and lost it. There is nothing I
can do to help. She manages to get a lift to an automotive supply shop and
buys another cap but it doesn’t fit. Eventually, a mechanic finds the cap stuck
behind the radiator.
I am driving Geoffrey back to his office when my two o’clock appointment drives
past. We both stop and I dump Geoffrey in favour of the builder I am now
taking to the house. I get on well with him but can’t get a price out of him. We
agree to meet on Thursday to discuss a budget.

When I get back into the office I find Lindsay has left lunch for me which,
together with the sandwich I hadn’t eaten yesterday, means I have three
lunches. The dogs are in for a surprise supper.
Another e-mail invites me to an Executive Meeting of the ABMA at six. I have
already arranged to meet others, including Lindsay, at six so reply that I can
make it at six thirty. The meeting turns out to be one of the best I have been to
in Antigua. It always helps when you know more about a subject than anyone
else. When I arrive they are discussing the impending introduction of VAT. Noone
knows much about VAT but, having twice sued them in the U.K. and being
married to a former VAT Inspector, I am suddenly an expert. The second
subject is wi-fi and, in view of my recent experience dealing with the wi-fi
problems in English Harbour, I seem to know more on the subject than anyone
else. Having made a plentiful contribution to the first two subjects I decide to
keep quite on everything else apart from asking the occasional question for
clarification.
Day 327 – Wednesday. Too many things have been interfering with work and I
am falling behind my own schedule although we have sold about fifty percent of
next year’s advertising space and this time last year none was sold. There is no
doubt the economy has slowed a bit here and people are being a bit more
cautious about how they spend their money. My hopes of increasing turnover
by another twenty five percent this year are not looking as promising as they did
last year.
I spend all day in the office working on existing customers and Tracy works on
new ones. Neither of us has a great deal of success. I spend some time
designing two new adverts, one for an existing customer who keeps sending it
back for revisions and another for a new customer who accepts it without
question.
After a whole day in the office I need to go to the Tot after which I am
approached by the owner of the wi-fi service which was closed down in English
Harbour. She has come to thank me for my efforts in dealing with the
Government. They have backed down totally and allowed her to reopen her
service. In fact, they now want to use the new service as an example at the
next Caricom conference of how all wi-fi services should operate in the
Caribbean. Quite a turnaround.
Day 328 – Thursday. There are no gardeners at the house. Obviously, they
have short memories as my lecture has only had a three day effect. When I
ring the organizer he tells me he saw me leaving as he was arriving. As that
was around nine o’clock, I tell him I hope they will finish a couple of hours later.
Sales go quite a bit better today and I pick up several renewals plus a big order
which shoves up the cash figure on the bottom line quite substantially. Lindsay
has less success with collecting outstanding debts. In the afternoon I am

speaking to a girl who had promised me an answer today. She doesn’t have
one so I suggest I will ring her on Wednesday. She tells me to ring on Monday
and comments she doesn’t mind being chased. She is absolutely gorgeous and
I reply I will enjoy chasing her. Obviously, the sense of humour isn’t the same
here as she immediately asks after the welfare of my wife.
At lunchtime I take a short break to go and look at a classic six metre which has
just been built and is being rigged prior to its launch. The rigger has flown out
from England and is the same person who re-rigged my boat in Plymouth in
2003. The owner is there and invites me to the launch party tomorrow
afternoon.
When I get back to the office the builder appears to discuss a budget for the
renovations of the house. We throw together some figures which come out
exceedingly high. I discuss and argue each point with him and we get down to
a figure less than half what he started with but it’s still a bit more than I was
expecting. I will have to find other ways to shave the figure.
Lindsay is at a meeting of the Amazing Grace Foundation so I have to leave
early to go home and feed the dogs.
As I drive towards the yacht club, Lindsay is just ahead of me, we pass Rob and
Amanda who have obviously arrived in English Harbour. They join us at the
club for the Tot and I have to forego my bridge game so we can go out to
dinner. It turns out to be a long evening because we go back to the yacht club
after dinner. As Rob and Amanda are not members, I have to buy all the drinks.
In our absence from the yacht club there has been a major row between some
of the Tot members and the couple who have allegedly defrauded another
member. I am disappointed to discover that I was not included as one of their
detractors.
Day 329 – Friday. All at Sea has arrived on the island and we have arranged to
meet the Customs broker at ten. He’s not there. We wait half an hour and he
still does not appear and his receptionist says he doesn’t have a mobile. I don’t
believe her and get rather cross. We leave and go to the supermarket and post
box. The car park is solid so I drive around, stopping briefly to empty our post
box, while Lindsay shops.
We return to the broker at quarter past eleven which means we are now over an
hour behind schedule. I am considering telling the broker that we will change to
another broker if he cannot keep to our agreed times although I am concerned
about the reliability of anyone else. Better the devil you know plus he is very
apologetic.
On our arrival in Nelson’s Dockyard we run into two people from Brighton who
were members of the yacht club and crew of the RNLI lifeboat. We agree to
meet up in the evening.

By the time we finish visiting the distributors it is nearly three and I am
supposed to have met the builder at two. Fortunately, he’s still on site. We
agree a deal and he wants a contract. Plus we have had another quote for the
windows which comes in at a third of the price of the original and much more in
line with what I had expected.
I am supposed to be at the launch of a new classic 6 metre yacht at four thirty
but people keep coming into the office and distracting me. By the time I get
their the boat is in the slings and about to be dropped into the water.
Fortunately, this is just a private launch, the official one is in two weeks time.
Day 330 – Saturday. Graeme, Philip and Stephanie are coming to the house to
give us a hand sorting out the mess in the garden and remove some of the
timber. Rob and Amanda are borrowing Lindsay’s car to collect Amanda’s
niece from the airport. We agree to collect them all from the Dockyard at eleven
having first stacked the cool box with ice and drink. Having taken the dogs to
the new house we daren’t leave them so I take Nissan and Lindsay takes
Sunny. When Amanda climbs in the back of my car she is horrified to be
confronted by Nissan and elects to switch to Lindsay’s car. Apparently, Sunny
will not stop barking at Rob and Amanda and Lindsay has to drive with the dog
on her lap.
Initially, we tie the dogs up in the garden but Nissan manages to break his chain
so we move them to the veranda and block up all the escape hatches. P.O.W.s
could have done with Sunny in Colditz. She is a perfect escape artist. Lindsay
had placed a large rock against one of the gates but Sunny has worked out how
to roll it away and pull the gate aside. Nissan just stands by an watches her but
takes the opportunity to escape as well. With the gate now tied, she researches
further escape routes, successfully. Having thought I had blocked them all,
Nissan discovers that he can get through some pillars and jump down onto the
staircase. Sunny, half his size, is too small to make the leap. Finally, the
veranda is secure.
In the meantime, we set to stacking all the timber I have removed from the deck
around the swimming pool. Only the decking frame and staircase to the
veranda are still standing. We remove everything from the staircase except the
frame which Graeme reckons I will need a chainsaw to get down. Lindsay has
been racking up cut grass and Stephanie picking up rubbish. By mid-afternoon
everyone has had enough and Lindsay drives them back to the Dockyard while
I remove the remaining bit of decking which was under the staircase.
We are supposed to be going out for a pizza after the Tot with some people
who are leaving the island. I am just too worn out so Lindsay goes alone. I
didn’t fancy an evening of being jolly and getting home late. As it turns out,
there are around twenty people so my absence isn’t a problem.

Day 331 – Sunday. I have persuaded Rob to give me a hand with the starting
of the race and we meet up at nine. We prepare everything at the yacht club
and await skippers turning up to sign on. No-one does. By ten fifteen, we give.
Lindsay is supposed to have gone to the new house so I head home to change.
Lindsay is still there. When we arrive at the house, I ring the neighbours to
introduce our dogs to their cat. They feel it’s best to do it when we are in the
house however, they invite Lindsay over to meet the cat and give her a load of
plants and cuttings.
By the time Lindsay is back, I have demolished the frame to the staircase. Like
Graeme, she thought I would need a chainsaw. I explain that gravity, leverage
and a sledge hammer is all I needed. Having disposed of that I start on the
vastly bigger frame around the pool. It comes to pieces quite easily with a
sledge hammer but is fairly strenuous work swinging the hammer above my
head. I have demolished a bout ninety percent of it when a six foot piece of
timber swings down, pendulum like, still attached at the top and impales my leg
with a four inch nail. It stuck in so hard I think it must have penetrated the bone.
When I pull it out volumes of dark red blood follows. I manage to staunch the
flow with toilet tissue but every time I start work again it begins to bleed. I
decide I have had enough for the day and Lindsay agrees. I sit down for a while
but Lindsay seems to want to go on working. After a while, I decide I might as
well demolish the remaining ten percent of the frame. That done, I insist we go
home.
Having missed lunch we have an early dinner and I go down to the Tot but
Lindsay stays at home. I am too tired to stay long so return early to watch a
video.
Day 332 – Monday. An e-mail from All at Sea requesting articles on various
activities which have taken place over the past week or so means I spend most
of the morning researching the stories and obtaining photographs. With the
internet playing up again I only get one article complete and sent out and have
to use AOL rather than Cable & Wireless. It surprises me that they are still in
business the number of times the internet goes down but, I suppose, with a
monopoly, they don’t care.
The builder wants a contract so I say I will draw one up thinking it will only take
me ten minutes. By the time I have prepared a schedule of works, before and
after plans, the budget and the contract, it takes most of the remainder of the
day. I still have to write a detailed acceptance letter to the window
manufacturer. I don’t want to leave any room for misunderstandings.
We still haven’t managed to get around to appointing an accountant which we
must do before the end of the month so I ring the one we have provisionally
chosen and make an appointment for nine the next morning. When I ring again
at quarter to six to check the address the ‘phone is answered which is a good

sign. It means they do a day’s work. I ring Lindsay and tell her the time of the
appointment which means she has to come back to the office to print some
information to give to the accountant.
The builder calls in to see me and tells me he has put a couple of men at the
house to begin the demolition work. He wasn’t supposed to be starting until
Wednesday. It’s a real change to have someone start early rather than late.
We meet up with Rob and Amanda at Calabash for the Tot and it turns into a
rather lengthy session as the discussion turns to history and American Bill chips
in with a few independence ‘facts’.
When we get home Lindsay starts dinner but the gas runs out so we have to
have toasted sandwiches.
Day 333 – Tuesday. Before we leave to St. John’s I disconnect the gas cylinder
to get a refill and I also go to collect the other cylinder so that we will have two
full ones. The other ‘empty’ cylinder is full. For some reason, both Lindsay and
I thought it was empty. I blame Lindsay as the other day she said we must get
a new full cylinder so I just presumed it was empty.
We arrive at the accountant’s office in St. John’s. It’s quite a splendid building.
Obviously accountants in Antigua earn too much money. Our appointment is
with the owner of the firm who is quite elderly and has a younger colleague with
him to take notes. He wants much more information than we have brought with
us. We agree to get it to him within a week.
We take the opportunity to go to our post box and to do some shopping. We
have received a Christmas card. It’s from my youngest sister, Gabriel and it’s
not early, it’s late. It was posted on 25 th November and was damaged in the
post which, somehow, delayed it for four months. We also look for some door
and window furniture in a hardware store. We might as well not have wasted
out time. There’s nothing worth having.
Walking around the supermarket my ‘phone rings. It’s the builder. He wants to
see me and had called at the office. I tell him I will be back in an hour. We still
have to go to the bank. It’s very busy and Lindsay is gone for about fifteen
minutes and I am now getting a bit tight on my hour. As is always the case, we
come up behind every slow driver in Antigua which adds considerably to the
journey time. By the time I have dropped Lindsay at home I am twenty minutes
late and the builder has gone. He rings and we arrange to meet in half an hour.
Some research on the internet produces a company in the U.K. which has
everything we want in the way of door handles, etc.. I send them an e-mail to
see if they will export them to Antigua.

The builder likes my agreement and tells me he has several men working at the
house plus he wants to buy some materials. I ask if he wants a deposit thinking
he might want as much as EC$10,000. He asks for fifteen which I pay him.
Maybe I was too optimistic. Lindsay and I go to the house and find the builder
is demolishing things we didn’t want demolished just yet. All the veranda rails
have gone and there is now nowhere for us to secure the dogs. The rails were
the second last job on my schedule of works.
Day 334 – Wednesday. I meet the builder on site at eight thirty. Some form of
progress, concrete blocks have arrived but there is no electricity. He wants to
ask the neighbour, who’s not in, if he can use hers. Fortunately, I know how to
get hold of her and she directs me to an outside plug. The power is 220 volts
and all the builders tools are 110. He has a step up transformer and reverses
the wiring but I don’t think it works. I suggest we might have one at home and
Lindsay goes back to get it. She rings to say it will only step up, not down.
The gardeners are still at work burning all the cut bushes and grass. One of the
neighbours complains about the smoke so I get them to douse the fire. I have
had enough of them. What was supposed to be a five day job has taken
thirteen and cost three times as much as they originally quoted. I tell them to
call it a day. We will finish off. At their rate of work they will be there another
week.
Lindsay rings me from St. John’s where she has gone to get the electricity
reconnected. There are bills outstanding for electricity and water for over
EC$3,000 and they won’t reconnect until the bills are paid. I e-mail the vendor,
with a copy to our solicitor, saying we will pay and deduct the cost from the
purchase price. Lindsay needs to go back tomorrow with a cheque book and
my identification.
The AGM of the Antigua & Barbuda Marine Association is being held at the
yacht club and I am being elected a Director. Geoffrey is dealing with the
nominations and he asks me to stand up, something he hasn’t done to the other
nominees. When I am on my feet he tells the assembled company he did it to
show that I am the best dressed man in Antigua.
The meeting is fairly packed and get quite heated. The local MP is in
attendance and he appears to be a bit of an ignorant thug, quite unlike the other
MPs I have met. He gets a very hard time from many people at the meeting. At
one point Geoffrey loses his temper and walks out. The real problem is that no
one has any doubt that the MP will do absolutely nothing.
Day 335 – Thursday. We are definitely into the Antigua way of doing things.
There is a pile of blocks, sand and gravel at the house but only a carpenter on
site and he’s working on putting new railings on the veranda. To make matters
worse, he’s using some of the timber I had torn off the swimming pool deck. I

eally wanted new timber for this job so we could stain it. Now it will have to be
painted.
While she is in town, I suggest to Lindsay that she checks out a couple of
kitchen unit shops. She comes back with a very expensive looking picture of a
kitchen which has to be imported from Italy. The time frame seems to vary
between six weeks and three months so you can bet on at least four.
Somehow, Lindsay forgets to go to the second shop, probably over awed by the
kitchen she has seen in the first one.
Amongst the post Lindsay brings back from St. John’s is a letter from the Inland
Revenue. I had one the other day advising me of my new voluntary
contributions and I suspect this is another one since they always write to me in
triplicate. It’s not. Apparently, I have overpaid my taxes by more than £7,000. I
kept on telling my accountant that I thought I was paying too much tax but he
didn’t agree. Mind you, there is no cheque enclosed. They are holding onto the
money in case I have any other liabilities.
When Lindsay arrives home she telephones me and asks if I have any idea
what is sitting in our sink. I haven’t a clue. It’s Teddy. He was returned to Rob
and Amanda and they slipped him in through the window while we were out.
The Tot is at the yacht club followed by games night. There are not enough
people to make up two tables of bridge so I sit out and talk to Rob and Amanda
while Lindsay loses badly at a game of chess. A chair at the table comes free
and I get in a few hands, quite good ones for a change but my partner is not
very experienced so we don’t do as well as we should although we do win
overall.
When we get home Lindsay throws Teddy out of the kitchen and he lands on
the living room floor in front of the dogs who are quite frightened by this
‘apparition’, so much so that Sunny wets the floor. They won’t stop barking until
I hide Teddy on top of a wardrobe.
Day 336 – Friday. Having heard from the company in the U.K. that they will
send us the door furniture we want, on my way into the office I call into the door
and window manufacturer and tell him the sizes of what I have found. Next
door is a cabinet maker so I ask him about building us a kitchen. I get the
feeling he will be a lot cheaper than importing and we can be fairly sure of what
we are getting.
Lindsay is in the office early, well fairly early, as she has to produce all the
figures for the accountants. I take the opportunity to go into town where I need
to see someone who is a cigar importer (I have other things to do as well). The
cigar importer reckons he can get my cigars at a lower cost that I can import
them from the U.K..

On my way into town I call into the new house to have a look at the work the
carpenter is doing. The new railings are to our design except that he has left
the gap in the middle so large that the dogs will have no difficulty in getting
through and I tell him so. A little later, I get an anxious call from the builder who
asks what he wants him to do. I say I will discuss it with Lindsay and let him
know.
Whilst in town I go to the kitchen shop Lindsay failed to visit yesterday. Their
selection of units is pretty poor but they have a great range of appliances but at
a price. I do a rough calculation of what we need and, even being economical,
it will still come to around EC$30,000.
Amanda pops in to use our facilities. The Antiguan Inland Revenue what a
sight of her certificate of registration as a Chartered Accountant which was
faxed through to me yesterday. Hopefully, she will get a job offer from the
Inland Revenue.
Having more or less decided to have the kitchen built here, I spend some time
doing a design. Of course, Lindsay wants something different from me. The
real problem is that what Lindsay wants would require a room twice the size. I
do two plans with 3D images in the hope that she can see how impractical her
layout would be.
Having a drink with Rob at HQ’s and it’s my turn to go to the bar. Rob is
drinking red wine. The glasses are quite small so I decide to buy him a double.
There a new, attractive girl behind the bar. Unfortunately, if she wasn’t black,
she’d be blonde. I ask her for a large glass with two measures of wine in it.
She comes back with a single, small glass. I ask again for a large glass and
she points out it will be double the cost. I tell her I understand and she returns
with a large glass of white wine. I point out I asked for red and several people
around me back me up. She pours the white wine down the sink and returns
with the glass with two measures of red wine in it. Since I already have one
small glass I now have, in effect, three glasses of wine. I can’t be bothered to
argue and pour the small glass into the large one. I have only drunk about half
my whiskey and ginger and there is plenty of ice in what is a half pint glass so I
ask the girl to put a measure of whiskey into the top. She brings me back my
glass half full of whiskey. She has thrown away the contents of what was in
there originally. I get her to top it up with ice and ginger. In the process of
serving me, which took about ten minutes, she has thrown away almost as
much as she has served. If she survives as a barmaid I can see HQ’s profits
going through the floor considering the whole lot only cost me EC$20 (under
£5).
When I return to Rob he is a bit horrified by the size of the glass of wine and,
eventually, takes it back to the boat to drink later. I will admit to struggling with
my quarter pint of whiskey.

Day 337 – Saturday. It’s back to the new house to continue with the demolition.
Lindsay gets on with the garden while I tackle the few remaining wooded post
around the swimming pool. With the sledge hammer, they are down in a few
minutes. Next is the removal of the above ground pool which is all bolted
together. At a quick estimate I reckon there are between three an four hundred
screw head bolts holding it all together. I wish I had the foresight to bring my
battery drill to unscrew them. Fortunately, they all come undone easily and all
but eight of the aluminium . By the time I have unscrewed everything Lindsay
has gone to get some lunch and I now have a five foot high, one hundred foot
long piece of aluminium which I struggle to roll up, eventually succeeding. Four
of the remaining posts come down easily but require a sledgehammer to
remove the base plates. The other four require the hammer on both the posts
and the base plates. All that now remains are four metal strips connecting the
eight posts. The only way to disconnect these is going to be with a grinder so
will have to wait until tomorrow.
A galvanized iron railing surrounds the external staircase and needs to be
removed. The sledgehammer makes no impression whatsoever and all the
screw heads are well past any use. The only way to move the railing is by
hammering a crowbar under the foot of each post and levering it up. The
screws have been resined into the concrete and pull away large areas of
cement as they come out. It takes me about an hour to remove less than
twenty feet of railing.
By now I am well into smashing mode and there is a hideous Romanesque style
balustrade made of concrete to which I take my trusty sledgehammer. What I
don’t realize is that it’s reinforced concrete and it’s extremely difficult to break up
but I am determined to smash it all down before we leave although I am fast
running out of energy.
After the Tot I have to sit down I am so exhausted. Rob and Amanda are with
us together with Amanda’s niece. I am not sure what Amanda’s niece does to
annoy Lindsay but Lindsay picks up the girl’s flip-flop and throws it off the
veranda. The annoyance obviously ceases.
Day 338 – Sunday. When I get up in the morning I feel quite dizzy. I plainly
overdid it yesterday. It is some while before I can summons up the energy to
get moving.
Tot Club keep fit is at our new house and I go to the Galley Bar to pick up
whoever is there. On my way I refill the cool box with beers, wine, ice and soft
drinks. More people are at the Galley bar than I can transport so I order a taxi.
One of the strange things they do here is charge taxis on a head count so it
makes it quite an expensive trip.
Having a large group of people makes short work of clearing my demolition
debris although Graeme is disappointed he is not part of a ‘wreaking’ crew. Bill

Dunn takes charge of the grinder and makes short work of anything metal once
he realizes he’s pulled the plug out of the extension cable. Philip has a go at
tackling the remaining part of the garden which is overgrown. All you can see of
him is a white hat bobbing around.
Unrequested, the taxi driver appears. It is not an inappropriate time for the
Keep Fitters to leave so I bundle them off in the taxi.
Lindsay and I start clearing some of the piles of garden rubbish which we can
no longer burn so need to be pushed to one corner of the garden. There is tons
of it and after an hour or so we have both had enough and call it a day.
Tracy calls around at five as she is looking for somewhere to stay during
Classic Week and I have suggested she may be interested in the flat below our
house and she has come to have a look. I leave Lindsay and Tracy to it and
head off to the Tot. I need to thank all those who worked today. I don’t intend
to stay long but it turns into one of those evenings which is quite good fun and I
don’t get back until eight.
Day 339 – Monday. Lindsay is taking the dogs to the vet for a check up. I don’t
envy her. She wants to have Nissan’s nails clipped and he hates having his
feet touched. I suggest she get the vet to give him a sedative or put a muzzle
on him.
Having now agreed a kitchen layout with Lindsay, I prepare yet another set of
plans and take to the kitchen manufacturer. He is in the process of repairing a
very large, wooden boom from a classic yacht. Obviously multi-talented.
Late afternoon and I feel I ought to check on the builders. The carpenter had
made further progress on building the veranda railings and someone has dug
away a bank where one wall to the garage is to be built. The order of works
seems somewhat erratic and none of the things I would started with have been
done. I come to the conclusion that the builder is putting whatever labour he
has available for the job regardless of the ideal order in which to do the work.
I have to go to a press conference at the yacht club regarding Sailing Week. It’s
supposed to start at six but most people expect don’t arrive until around six
thirty. The conference is being held on the yacht club veranda as there is not
enough room inside. Ten minutes into the conference and the heavens open.
Unfortunately, the veranda roof leaks like a sieve. When built, the joints
between the three sections were not sealed and no one has bothered to rectify
it since. I had wondered why the restaurant downstairs complained of water
getting in when it rains. I now know how. Having just renegotiated the lease
downstairs and the tenant having insisted we deal with the leaks, I point out the
problem to the Commodore who shrugs his shoulders and comments that it
doesn’t rain for long in Antigua.

Day 340 – Tuesday. Lindsay has to go to St. John’s again, this time to see the
accountants. She takes a lap top with her but finds that they don’t seem to be
into computers. When we called there last week I was a bit surprised to find the
same type of Olivetti typewriter on the desk as I had thrown out twenty years
ago. Lindsay wonders whether they use calculators yet.
It might seem strange, but I am getting a little concerned that we may achieve
too much advertising. The 2006 edition had a total of fifty pages of adverts. yet
we only started selling at the end of May. We are already at forty five pages
and twenty two pages from last year are yet to confirm whether they want to
renew. We could have over sixty pages of advertising which means we have to
change from a stitched magazine to perfect bound – much more expensive.
Already starting on the layout, I have decided to sectionalise the magazine
which has several benefits including producing ‘front’ pages throughout and,
therefore, semi-prime advertising locations, however, it is making the layout
twice as difficult to envisage.
First item on the agenda of the Antigua & Barbuda Marina Association Board
meeting is election of officers. I think I have been stitched up. Only elected to
the Board last week I am nominated as President (effectively Chairman). I
decline as being too new but the Board persists. In the end I agree but I
suspect my nomination is largely based on the fact that no one else wants the
job and I am the only one wearing a tie. I have to take over chairing the
meeting immediately.
When I get home, Lindsay is somewhat the worse for wear. She has been to
the Tot Club and had one or two wines too many.
Day 341 – Wednesday. I have an eight thirty meeting with the builder. The
garden is in the kitchen. I make a joke but he’s serious. Rather than put eight
inches of concrete on the floor he’s putting down four inches of soil first. He’s
concerned about the weight of the concrete. The veranda railings are almost
complete and a neighbour a mile across the valley has admired them. He must
have been using binoculars. He has asked the builder to make some the same
for him.
I am a little concerned that the builder has not fully read the plans as he goes
around the house asking about various things to be constructed or taken down.
One room on the plan he has missed altogether and asks if we discussed it. I
can see he thinks it’s not within the budget.
Tracy is having a good day selling and I am having to continually revise how the
magazine might turn out. I am beginning to think I might just drop all the people
who are giving me a hard time regarding the renewal of their advertising. I feel
quite inclined to send them all an e-mail saying that if they don’t respond by a
certain date then they will not appear in next year’s magazine.

Another meeting, this time it’s the yacht club. The meeting is rather chaotic
which doesn’t help me as the Secretary has not turned up again and there is no
one to take the minutes. I have agreed, again, on the basis that I will never do it
again. The meeting goes on rather late and I am even later as I sit down with
Geoffrey after the meting to discuss a few things. He was the primary cause of
the chaos.
When I get home Lindsay tells me that Incisor (formerly Backlash but with a
new hull) needs a skipper for Sailing Week and the owner wants to know if I will
do it. Somewhat surprising as the last time I sailed this boat (1995) I cost him a
new mast.
Day 342 – Thursday. With so many interruptions I manage to get a reasonably
decent day’s work but have to leave by four to get to the official launch of the
restored 6 metre. There are around a hundred people on the dock with bars
and food. Geoffrey, being the letch he is, swings his arms around Anna-Maria
and knocks my wine all over me. The launch is delayed and delayed awaiting
the Prime Minister’s arrival. I have agreed to meet Lindsay at six and I have left
my ‘phone in the car, so, in the end, I give up and go.
Lindsay is in Life and so are the girls who are looking after Incisor so I ask
about Sailing Week. The group intending to charter the boat have cancelled.
They took one look at the cost of flights and changed their minds. It back to
firing the guns for me.
Day 343 – Friday. We have decided to take the whole weekend off and work on
the house. There are some horrible Moorish arches on the veranda and I am
determined to remove them. I imagine them to be plaster but they turn out to be
concrete. It takes me all day with a hammer, chisel and angle grinder to
remove one and there are eight more to go. I know someone with a Kango
hammer so I ring him and ask if I can borrow it. He says it’s only a baby one
and no good for that kind of job. Anything will be better than a hammer and
chisel but he does tell me where I can hire one. Lindsay spends the day carting
wheel barrows of rubble where the builders have knocked out walls and using
the rubble to fill a rather stupid ornamental pond which is sited exactly where we
are building our study.
By four, it’s more than enough time to go home. A quick shower and change
and off to the Tot where we meet up with Rob and Amanda who persuade us
without much effort, particularly Lindsay, to go with them to Trappas for dinner.
Once again my argument with Rob over restaurant prices is proved as we eat
including wine for £16 per head including tip.
Day 344 – Saturday. I off early to St. John’s to hire a Kango hammer except
they are called Jack hammers here. It’s unbelievably heavy. I am about a mile
from the hire shop (on my way back) when it suddenly occurs to me that the
hammer may be 110 volt. I ring the shop and sure enough, it is. I ask if he

hires transformers. Fortunately, yes, so I return and pick up a transformer
which is almost as heavy as the hammer.
When I come to connect the Jack hammer to the transformer none of the plugs
is right plus I need to add an extension lead. Lindsay is still at home and I ask
her to bring every form of adapter but I am not hopeful. I have come across this
problem before. Sure enough, nothing fits. I work out I can wire the extension
lead directly into the transformer but getting power out is the problem. A search
of the house reveal an old set of fairy light which, for some reason I cannot
fathom, has a two pin (hole, in this case) outlet socket attached. It’s ideal for
my needs, almost. The plug is three pin but I’m not too bothered about the
earth. A little modification to the socket with a hacksaw and I have my power
out let which still needs to be wired into the transformer. I am a little concerned
that the fairy light cable might be a rather light weight for the power I am going
to put through it. I have visions of melting plastic but, what the hell. Obviously,
fairy lights are made of stronger stuff as the cable holds without even a sniff of
anything melting.
It’s certainly easier to use than a hammer and chisel but it’s so heavy I can only
hold it above my head for a few minutes at a time. Also, every time the blade
skids off the concrete the weight of the hammer almost pulls me into the abyss
below. I try various methods such as tying it to the top of a ladder to take the
weight but it makes it very inflexible. When Lindsay goes home to get some
lunch I ask her get some pulleys out of the store room. She can only find one. I
know men have a thing about never being able to find clothes in a cupboard or
drawer but women can never find anything which is the slightest bit technical.
One is better than none but the pulley system is not much better tying it to the
top of the ladder. I have to attack the far side of the arches from a ladder
perched on the stairs leading to the floor below. I have tied the ladder to one of
the pillars supporting the arches hoping the pillar will not accidentally come
down as I demolish the arch.
In a passing comment, Lindsay says she wished she had a step ladder for
some purpose or another. It occurs to me that if I can rest the Jack hammer on
top of a step ladder then life will be much easier. Even better, I had seen a
discarded and broken step ladder lying amongst the rubbish. If I can make it
serviceable it could be perfect. It is better than perfect. It even has a dished
recess in the top step which is exactly the same size as the Jack hammer’s
motor which stops the whole machine skidding around. By late afternoon, I am
five more aches down apart from a bit of trimming which requires using the Jack
hammer above my head and my muscles are not longer up to that. A job for
tomorrow plus the three remaining arches are the easiest as I can get at them
from both sides with the step ladder on the veranda.
We had not intended to go to the Tot and Lindsay does not but I remember that
I have told all the racing yachts to sign on by e-mail by seven and I need to go
to the office to find out if anyone has. I hope they haven’t as I will have to go to

do Race Officer duty tomorrow. No one has so, as the Tot is just over the road,
I join in.
On my way home I collect a DVD but not having my glasses I don’t realize
Chicago is a movie. It’s not too bad and I am so exhausted I could have
watched anything.
Day 345 – Sunday. Philip, Stephanie and Graeme are coming to give us a
hand and Lindsay goes off to collect them. Graeme wants to do some wreaking
so I give him a sledge hammer and point him in the direction of some shelves.
There are lots of them and it takes a while to demolish them all removing half
the plaster from the walls in the process.
Philip is out in the ‘jungle’ attacking the last of the garden left after I sacked the
gardeners and Stephanie is filling holes on the veranda railings. Lindsay is
back with her wheelbarrow and rubble and I attack the final three arches,
trimming off the remains of yesterday’s before my strength goes. Unfortunately,
the gear box in my grinder has packed up just as I was trying to sharpen the
shears for Philip which also means I can’t use on the trimming of the arches.
The three remaining arches come out relatively easily but partway through it
begins to rain. A gallon water bottle cut in half water proofs the transformer but
those working outside are driven in. As it’s getting on a bit, Lindsay drives them
back to English Harbour and, having finished the arches, I start on trimming the
plaster of a pillar which we want to cover in wood. I don’t know what they put
into cement and plaster in this country but it’s diamond hard. I get half of one
side done and give up for the day.
Lindsay manages to get her car stuck in the mud caused by the rain and her
four wheel drive does not seem to be engaging. After several attempts I have a
go without a lot more success until I go for low ratio and loads of power and the
car slides and zigzags itself up the hill much to Lindsay’s consternation.
Someone has recommended the Tot Club be registered under The Friendly
Societies Act which has rather puzzled me if the Act in Antigua is anything like
the one in the U.K.. I am given a copy which turns out to have been enacted in
1928 and, therefore, precisely the same. I sit in bed and read it and all I can
think is ‘What kind of illiterate idiot thought the Tot Club should be registered
under this legislation?’ Not only is it totally irrelevant to the Club it would be
illegal for the Club to register without dramatically changing what it does and the
penalties are enormous. Unfortunately, the same idiot has applied and
obtained registration almost certainly, illegally. Fortunately, there is a ‘get out’
clause but it means an application to the High Court. It keeps me awake
thinking about it.
Day 346 – Monday. It’s very hard to do any work on the house. I trim off some
more off the plaster but neither the energy nor the will is there and we set to

clearing up the mess we have made. We hadn’t planned to stay long as we
have invited Philip, Stephanie and Graeme out to lunch at Calabash. After a bit
over an hour I suggest we pack up and go home.
Unfortunately, the hot water system has been playing up and I can’t get a hot
shower. How I hate cold showers. It’s been getting gradually worse. At first we
turned the shower on and off to get it hot, then ran the basin tap and finally the
kitchen tap. Now nothing seems to work.
Lunch becomes a protracted affair which we don’t finish until four thirty.
Graeme, Philip and Stephanie come up with a thousand and one ludicrous
suggestions of what we should do with the house including installing a flag pole
just to upset Geoffrey who is on the opposite side of the valley.
The other Lindsay is ill and she is supposed to be doing Rum Steward with
Mark so I have volunteered to help him which means we have to be back at
Calabash in an hour. I am feeling somewhat reluctant but duty calls and, as is
so often the case, it turns out to be an entertaining evening.
Day 347 – Tuesday. I have to take the Jack hammer back and Lindsay’s car is
overheating so we need to take it to the garage. Since I leave some time before
her I call into a D.I.Y. shop to buy a new grinder. They have a really good,
professional one so I take one. As I am about to pay I ask if it’s dual voltage.
It’s not. It’s 110 volt which means I need a step down transformer. I check the
wattage on the grinder. It’s 2000!!! The largest transformer they have is 2000
watts and it’s more expensive than the grinder.
Whilst I am in the shop Lindsay rings and says her car is overheating and white
vapour is coming out of her air conditioning vents. I tell her to let it cool for a
while and then carry on. Just after I have returned the Jack hammer she rings
again and says she dare not go any further. I say I will join her in five minutes.
By the time I arrive the car has cooled sufficiently for me to add some water.
Lindsay drives to the garage where I tell the mechanic I think the head gasket
has blown. He disagrees. There are one or two other problems we want sorted
so we leave the car.
Earlier, when on my way to meet Lindsay, I had spotted some new 4 x 4, double
cab pickups. Since I didn’t recognize them I could only assume they were
Chinese and I presumed they would be cheap. On our way back we call into
the garage. The pickups are Chinese but they have two disadvantages. They
are left hand drive and they are not cheap.
I drop Lindsay off to hire a car as it will probably be a few days before her’s is
returned.
A telephone call to Sandy about the lack of hot water and one or two other
minor problems brings him scuttling into the office. He has an instruction

manual for the boiler – in Italian! My office neighbour is Italian so I tell Sandy I
will get a translation. Unfortunately, my neighbour is out all day so I look at the
book myself. Under what is obviously a ‘trouble shooting’ section and with my
Italian vocabulary (minus ten words) it is quite easy to see that the most likely
cause of the problem is dead batteries. The batteries generate the spark which
ignites the gas.
In the office I realize I have an appointment with Government Ministers on
Thursday regarding the introduction of V.A.T. and a meeting on Friday
regarding the ABMA website. Blue Leopard, the Classic yacht I have been
invited to sail on wants to practise on Thursday and Friday. I can move Friday’s
meeting but not Thursday’s.
At four o’clock, I ring the garage and they tell me Lindsay’s car is ready. They
say the belt driving the water pump was loose. I ring Lindsay and we agree she
will drop off the hire car and I will pick her up. I an a bit early so, on my way I
call into the yacht club’s tenant to see if I can finalize the only remaining detail.
Thinking I will be only a couple of minutes, I leave my ‘phone in the car. Twenty
minutes later I return to the car there is a plaintiff message on my ‘phone asking
where I am. Fortunately, Roger has accosted Lindsay and taken her into the
Mad Mongoose for a drink.
Day 348 – Wednesday. Whilst Lindsay is walking the dogs I take the boiler
apart and replace the batteries. Fortunately, I have some spares of the right
size. We have hot water again.
On our way to pick up Lindsay’s car we call in at the new house to see how the
builder is getting on. As per usual, there is progress in all kinds of strange
directions. More walls down, concrete being laid and stair railing being
constructed. The builder wants to re-arrange the layout of the bathroom plus
add a bidet. We agree to talk about it when work is further advanced.
We collect Lindsay’s car and the garage owner tries his usual joke over the bill.
He gives me someone else’s which is over five time the size of Lindsay’s. I pay
and depart. Lindsay heads off into St. John’s to do some shopping, collect the
post and visit the Registrar of Companies. She want to investigate the
registration of the Tot Club. About an hour later she rings. Her car is
overheating again. I telephone the garage and say she will be back.
About a further hour later she rings and tells me that she discovered all kinds of
fraudulent things going on with the registering of the Tot Club and my least
favourite people seem to be behind it all. She has taken copies of the
documentation which will be quite interesting when people are confronted with
it. A little later she rings and asks me to collect her from the garage. It’s twenty
past twelve and I am supposed to be having a steak tartar lunch at one. I
postpone it half an hour.

Lunch was intended to be an hour but extends to a second bottle of wine
(between three) and takes an hour and three quarters.
My meeting tomorrow has been postponed as the Government aren’t sure yet
what their policy is and someone is ill. It suits me as I can now go sailing.
Lindsay gives a report to the Chairman and President of the Tot Club a report
on her investigations which takes half the evening and when she’s finished Mike
and Anne invite us back to dinner which makes for a very late evening.
Day 349 – Thursday. It’s eight thirty at the boat and Rob and Amanda are
sitting in a dockside café waiting for coffee. It gets very confusing when Rob
tries to order one and Amanda says she doesn’t want one and to hurry things
up Rob tries to pay. All that happens is that the confusion causes everything to
take longer and only two cups arrive.
The yacht is rather unusual in shape and layout and quite modern for a classic
being built in the early sixties. It’s her double diagonal plank hull construction
which makes her a classic. Skipper, Jock Hamilton has never raced nor have
any of the crew, half of whom have been picked up from the dock. It’s quite an
international crew, Jock, obviously Scots, a French girl more interested in her
suntan, nails and Sony walkman, Jaffrey, a young Malay who was picked up by
the boat two years ago in Malaya, a young Spaniard with an unpronounceable
name who gets called George and an English girl called Emma (very good at
producing sandwiches). The boat is appalling badly laid out for racing with most
of the work including the mainsheet having to be done from the foredeck. She
is a cutter rigged ketch with power winches and do you need them.
Unfortunately, unless the port engine is running you can only operate one at a
time and then only at half speed. Furthermore, the boat is a pig under engine
as both propellers rotate the same way. The engines are from a Chieftain tank
or, rather, two of them, and the boat is as fast under engine as sail.
We practise tacks and gybes, this is the only boat I have ever been on which
gybes more easily than it tacks. We hoist and drop the mizzen staysail which is
made from heavy duty spinnaker material, shaped like a jib and goes up
sideways. Rob and I cannot get our heads around this one. Also, you can’t
tack or gybe it so it has to be dropped and re-hoisted. I helm the boat for a
while and you can’t see anything forward because of the large pilot house. I try
leaning out to leeward to see the sails but the wheel is not large enough and
there is nowhere to sit properly. Jock steers by standing on the seat leaning
down, monkey like, to reach the wheel. It can’t be comfortable. I despair of us
obtaining any results and, six hours later, practise over, I feel as though I have I
have been tumbled in a concrete mixer added to which, not expecting to be out
so long, I didn’t put on any sun cream and my forehead is somewhat burnt.
As we have been out so long I say I won’t be able to make tomorrow’s practise
as I have to catch up with a couple of meetings I had hoped to fit into today.

Day 350 – Friday. My first meeting is at nine and it to attempt to reorganize the
ABMA’s website. It’s a successful meeting but it goes on until nearly eleven
when my next meeting is due to start. The next meeting is somewhat
contentious. It involves what appears to be the fraudulent registration of the Tot
Club under The Friendly Societies Act and it’s constitution having been changed
without authority. We don’t finish this meeting until well after two.
Lindsay’s car is in the garage with the water leak problem but it has been
repaired so we go to collect it. When we arrive rather ominously, the bonnet is
up. The garage thought they had solved the problem but water is still
disappearing and they can’t find where it’s going. They suggest we take it
home and return it on Monday. We can’t as I am sailing. It’s not fixed and
begins to show signs of over heating as Lindsay drives home. When we get
home Lindsay points out that the passenger footwell is full of coolant.
Obviously the heater matrix has gone and it explains why she was getting
steam out of the air conditioning vents.
We meet up with Rob and Amanda at the Tot and there is a plan for Tot
members to go somewhere for a meal as it’s the Queen’s birthday. The plan
does not come to fruition and Rob, Amanda, Lindsay, Mike and I sit down for a
meal at Life. We end up having a very heated discussion on the environment in
which Lindsay and I argue that conservation is a bad thing as it interferes with
natural selection, the survival of the fittest and many other things. Rob,
Amanda and Mike disagree. We argue that as 99.9% of species are already
extinct a few more disappearing makes no difference. As usual, we are right
and the others are wrong.
Day 351 – Saturday. At the boat by eight thirty and we untie a little after nine.
There have been two additions to the crew, A New Zealand girl who has a little
sailing experience and another foreigner with an unpronounceable name who
has no experience. I never do discover where he comes from. Our start is not
until ten forty five and we have plenty of time to prepare which is just as well
since it takes over half an hour to get the sails up. There are fifty five boats
taking part in five different starts. We are the last start and amongst the big
boats.
This is the most peculiar regatta in which I have ever taken part. The start is
deliberately on port and any boat sailing in the vicinity of the start area on
starboard will be considered sailing dangerously. Furthermore, although we are
in a class we are not starting in class order but in groups of handicaps so the
flag we are wearing indicates our start group not our class. This means that
unless we can spot the boat name we have no idea who is in our class and who
we are mainly racing against.
Jock, like every boat in the fleet wants to start at the pin end away from the
Committee Boat. The start line is about half a mile long and, theoretically, the

pin end is closer to the first mark which is four miles away. As I am on board as
the one who knows the rules the best and the most experienced racer, in effect,
I am doing tactics. Rob’s up on the bow calling trim and generally running the
working end of the boat. I manage to persuade Jock that the most stupid thing
we could do is start at the pin end. Not only would we have around fifty boats in
front of us giving us dirty air, the wind is very light and if it’s going to fill it will fill
from the south east and suggest we head in that direction even though it is
taking us away from a direct line to the first mark. The Committee boat is on the
east end of the line.
Fortunately, I am right and after about half an hour the wind begins to fill in and
we get it first (apart from one boat from an earlier start which has also headed
south east. Before too long we have overtaken most of the fleet many of which
are still not moving and some of which started three quarters of an hour ahead
of us. We hold our advantage around the course overtaking more boats as we
go and rigorously protecting our windward, clean air, position. We are ninth on
the water at the finish and every boat in front of us has a higher handicap. We
receive a gun as being first over the water in our class. Later we discover we
are first on handicap in our class and fourth overall in the regatta. Blue Leopard
has never won a race before.
We take Jock to the Tot Club and he gets very drunk.
Day 352 – Sunday. Conditions are completely different today. The wind is
quite strong and there are squalls everywhere. Sandy has joined us and is
helping out up front. Yet again, everyone starts at the pin end and we have a
near perfect start at the Committee Boat however, it is blowing over twenty five
knots and the rain is lashing down and, the jacket I brought and needed
yesterday, is safely tucked up at home.
The fleet is much more spread out as everyone has wind but keeping to our
policy of clear air and being windward boat we overtake a large portion of the
fleet. I am beginning to think that there are not many racers amongst the
classic yachts when we make the most enormous cock-up. We hoist the pole
on the wrong side. The poles on this boat (it has two) are about twenty five feet
long and weigh half a ton. They have to be cranked down the mast and the
outer end lifted by a power winch. We have to live with it as it will take too
much time to alter. We lose quite a lot of speed and then have a minor
port/starboard incident (we are on port) but, in reality, we are not the problem.
Another boat is but the incident interferes with our course to the next mark.
There are a couple more reaching legs followed by a long beat where we make
the mistake of tacking too often which costs us time.
On one leg we are using the mizzen staysail and we have rigged it incorrectly
so when it comes down we don’t have a spare winch for the halyard. I try to
control the halyard on the sheet winch but there is too much pressure and my
left fore finger is pulled into the winch slicing the knuckle through to the bone.

The next mistake is purely mine. I call for tack for the finish. In any of the boats
I have owned we would have over stood the finish line by a long way. Not Blue
Leopard. She tacks though about one hundred and ten degrees and we are not
going to make the line so I suggest we go right up to the pin end (different from
the start and much closer to the Committee Boat) of the line and tack over.
Jock appears to get a bit concerned by the other boats milling around the line
and tacks too soon. In order to ensure we do not miss the line again Jock
stands on despite me saying we will make it easily. Maybe his confidence in
me has diminished somewhat. When he comes to tack he has left it too late
and we can’t cross the line without hitting the Committee Boat and have to gybe
around to finish.
We still get a gun as first across the line in our class and, later we find we are
second in class on handicap by six minutes and, today, tenth overall in the
regatta. We lost far more than six minutes by our various mistakes although
Jock blames himself for the finish and I tell him I reckon it cost us only two
minutes. My mistake cost about the same and Rob can take his portion of the
blame for another two minutes with the pole going up on the wrong side.
Day 353 – Monday. I have decided to include Monday with this week’s edition
as it’s still part of the regatta.
Sandy is supposed to turn up again but doesn’t. An American girl appears on
the dock and asks if we have any space. I tell Jock to ask her what she has
done. Typically American, she has done everything. I very much doubt it.
Given the choice I would have left her standing on the dock and it would have
been the right decision. She is not at all experienced and is more of a liability to
herself, the boat and other crew.
Having been successful with our Committee Boat end starts we decide to go for
it again only this time a couple of other boats in our fleet decide to copy us. All
three of us are slightly early and the other two boats which are in front of us and
to windward bear away down the line. It is quite windy and I feel the best thing
we can do is luff up and slow down. Jock is concerned about not being able to
power up again but I am more concerned not to lose our clear air position. Jock
does as I suggest and at thirty seconds to go I tell him to bear away and power
up. I call for the sails to be trimmed in and we hit the line fast just beneath the
Committee Boat with not another boat near us. It’s a rather boring course being
five mile fetch followed by a five mile beam reach, repeated.
Because we have only a tack or a gybe at each end we are able to concentrate
on sail trim and how to handle boats we are overtaking. The odd one will try to
take us up but most just let us ride over the top of them. I advise Jock on which
ones to duck and which we can safely climb over. We duck one small boat
which calls out thanks little realizing that we had seen that they intended to

push us all over the ocean so we intimidated them into luffing up and then dived
under their stern.
While we are sailing the owner telephone from the U.K. on the Satphone.
Amanda tells him that we were first and second on the previous two days. He
presumes that this means on the water which we should be as the fastest boat
in our class. He is staggered and delight when she tells him that we were first
on the water on both days but these are handicap results.
As we approach the finish line there are only four boats in front of us, three are
on a different course so not going through the finish line just yet and the fourth
was over the line at the start so we are the lead boat and get line honours on
the whole fleet. We are comfortably first in our class on the water and on
handicap and second on handicap, by thirty, seconds in the fleet. We have a
small chance of being in the top three overall but our tenth place overall
yesterday will probably preclude us.
We are having a crew dinner this evening and the American asks if she may
join us. Jock politely declines. We have booked a table for ten at Calabash and
Lindsay joins us. The restaurant eventually throws us out when they want to
close.
Day 354 – Tuesday. Lindsay’s car has to go back to the garage, hopefully, for
the last time. She drives slowly to prevent the over car overheating. We have
gathered quite a queue by the time we reach St. John’s.
As we are in town we cheque our post box and Lindsay says she needs to buy
some dog food. Sunny is being very particular about what she eats. Perhaps,
that’s why she is only half the size of Nissan or perhaps it’s just because she’s a
woman. Anyway, Lindsay has come up with a new nickname for her as she is
so small – sub-woofer.
I drop Lindsay outside the supermarket and park the car. When I find her I point
out she has a trolley full of everything except dog food. When we get home we
discover she never did buy any dog food. We also take the opportunity to look
at kitchen appliances. There are really only two places, one sells 220 volt
equipment and the other 110. The 220 are 50 cycles and the 110 60 cycles.
The problem is that our house is 220 volt and 60 cycles. The 220 volt
appliances are around half the price of the 110s but at 50 cycles the 220s will
wear out sooner. Both have only one year guarantees. We think we have
come to the conclusion that we doubt the 110s will last twice as long as the
220s so we will probably buy them with the exception of a ‘fridge which is using
a motor all the time.
After dropping Lindsay back home I call into the kitchen manufacturer to find out
how he is getting on with our quote. It’s about three weeks since we asked for
one but it’s still not ready. He had originally told me he could have the kitchen

uilt by the end of April and we are nearly there and still don’t even know the
price. Obviously. I have made my classic mistake and forgotten to ask ‘which
year?’.
Graeme and Anne meet with me in the office to see if we can work out exactly
what has transpired in the registration of the Tot Club under The Friendly
Societies Act. There have been a lot of shenanigans going on and the whole
registration seems not only to be inappropriate but also fraudulent. It’s getting
on towards seven and I suggest we wind up as I want to go to the prize giving.
Anne tells me the prize giving is not until nine although the party starts at seven.
This means it won’t be over until very late. I go home and eat first. When we
return we only stay until Blue Leopard receives her prize which is after ten.
Day 356 – Wednesday. We are picking up Graeme at the Dockyard at eight the
Mike and Anne in order to go to St. John’s to see the Intellectual Property and
Commerce registrar. No sign of Graeme at eight. . To make matters worse,
Cable & Wireless are down again and we can’t ‘phone him. We search the
Dockyard and by eight fifteen we give up. Driving out of English Harbour we
see Graeme. He had gone to the office and must have been inside as we drove
past.
For a change, traffic is light and we arrive in St. John’s early. We do look rather
like a delegation, five of us with the one official. From time to time the meeting
appears as though it might get a bit heated. There is no doubt the official has
not conducted the registration entirely correctly and that the Tot Club member
who registered the Club has been misleading both the Club and the Intellectual
Property and Commerce Office. I think we are near to getting to the truth.
We drop Lindsay off at the garage to pick up her car, hopefully, for the last time
and I drive the others back to English Harbour.
The door and window manufacturer rings to tell me the wood they bought for
the door frames has warped. He is going to have to start all over again. I go
and have a look but can’t see anything wrong. Since we don’t need them just
yet and he’s not charging me for remaking them, I tell him to go ahead and
make new ones.
The solicitor we are supposed to be meeting tomorrow rings to say he has to go
to a funeral and cancels the appointment. Apparently, he is dropping the body
off the side of his boat and as the funeral is in English Harbour I suggests he
comes to see us in my office when it’s over. He agrees.
I get a call from the manager of the yacht club. There is a crew looking for a
boat to charter. He knows I am in contact with the owner of Incisor (Backlash).
Unfortunately, the boat is out of the water having its gearbox investigated.

Tonight is my first Board meeting as President of the ABMA and, in consultation
with the Secretary, I have produced an agenda. It’s the first time anyone can
remember an agenda being produced also, it’s the first time for a very long time
all Board members have turned up plus a representative from the Ministry of
Tourism. The meeting appears to go very well. At the meeting it is suggested
we buy a present for a retiring Customs Officer who has been helpful.
Someone suggests we give him money. I don’t think that very appropriate so I
am charged with getting something. I have never met the man but, no doubt,
something nautical will do.
Day 357 – Thursday. I have to get into the office fairly early in order to deliver
copies of the Marine Guide to the Sailing Week organizers. In the Dockyard I
am pulling into a parking space when a car comes the other direction and wants
the space I am parking in. The driver is wearing a shirt with the name of one of
the big yachts on it and he wants to park close to the yacht so tells me to get
out of the parking space. I am not very often rude but I tell him in no uncertain
terms where he can go.
My first thought is a yacht painting as a gift to the Customs Officer but they are
too expensive. In a nearby shop is a combination of a clock and barometer
mounted on polished wood. It’s under my budget. I had also thought of a nice
nautical book but that is also under my budget. Together they are over budget
but with a little negotiation, I get the price down and buy the pair. It’s not until
everything is paid for and being wrapped I realize there is a plaque for
engraving. I get a price for the engraving which comes to almost 50% of my
budget. It will have to go unengraved.
A ‘phone call from the Ministry of Tourism advises me that I have to do the
presentation to the retiring Customs Officer tomorrow afternoon at the cargo
area of the airport. This is a bit of a pain as I shall be in precisely the same
place at ten in the morning but will have to return five hours later.
Our air conditioning unit in the office keeps going to ‘sleep’. The instructions
are in Outer Mongolian vaguely translated into English and make no sense.
Having tried everything I give up and speak to our landlord who had it installed.
He thinks it’s out of warranty but I point out that we haven’t been here a year yet
and it was installed several weeks after we moved in.
No sign of the solicitor so I give him a call. He’s partying up at Eric Clapton’s
house so we agree to meet tomorrow.
Day 358 – Friday. The builder wants to meet us on site at eight thirty. He has
done a vast amount of work and wants some more money, a lot. We write him
a cheque but tell him not to out it into the bank until we have had a chance to
transfer over some cash from our savings accounts. As we have to be at the
airport at ten to deal with the incoming All at Sea we go to St. John’s and spend
an hour looking at more kitchen appliances and kitchens. There is one kitchen

we really like but it’s bound to be an arm and a leg plus the delivery is twelve to
sixteen weeks. In Antigua that could mean six months.
On our way around with All at Sea we see Lindsay’s car parked in Jolly
Harbour. Rob has borrowed it to try to sort out his and Amanda’s visas but we
were expecting him to have finished by now. Back in English Harbour there is
no sign of Rob and I have to go back up to the airport to make the presentation
on behalf of the A.B.M.A. to the Customs Officer. An official from the Ministry of
Tourism is supposed to be meeting me at three thirty. Of course, he’s not there
and his mobile is turned off and there’s no reply at his office. By four o’clock I
decide there is nothing to be done other than make the presentation and leave.
I have to be in English Harbour by five to meet the solicitor. I find someone I
know who knows the Customs Officer and get him to introduce me.
Having made the presentation I set off for English Harbour but the traffic is so
heavy that even the buses and taxis are driving slowly. I ring Lindsay to see if
Rob has returned with her car so she can go to the office and open up for the
others and meet the solicitor. Rob hasn’t. I try every means to get someone to
the office and am about to resort to ordering a taxi to collect Lindsay when Rob
turns up. For reasons too complicated to explain, I have to pick up Anne whose
supposed tom be waiting at the end of the road and isn’t then Rob who’s
supposed to be waiting at the end of the road but isn’t (Lindsay’s fault). I get to
the office just before five.
Ten past five, no sign of the solicitor. I ring him to find he is just leaving his
office. He was expecting us there. It was his suggestion we meet at my office
and he had forgotten. He says he will come to my office at nine thirty tomorrow
morning. I had already told the air conditioning people I couldn’t be there at
nine thirty as I wanted to work on the house. I had left a key with the landlord.
We meet up with Rob and Amanda. Rob thinks he’s had a bad day as he
succeeded in achieving precisely nothing. I tell him my day was far worse than
his. He and Amanda will sail off to Montserrat tomorrow and get automatic visa
renewal when they return. Avoids all the bureaucracy. We all feel like eating
out.
Day 359 – Saturday. Lindsay has gone for a run so the dogs get one of their
occasional treats, me taking them for a walk. It’s a treat for them as I don’t want
to walk too far so I take them down to the beach and let them off the lead. They
love running around and playing in the water. I throw a coconut into the water
and they chase after it. Nissan is by far the stronger swimmer and Sunny
returns twice while Nissan tries to grab the coconut. Unfortunately, every time
he tries to grab it in his mouth he just pushes it further out to sea. I am just
getting to the point where I think I will have to dive in a rescue him when he
manages to take hold of it and swim ashore.

I get into the office by nine in case anyone is early. They are not but the
solicitor does arrive, so do the air conditioning repairers.. The solicitor tells us
what I have always believed. There is no necessity for the Tot Club to be
registered as anything and even if we wish to be registered the Friendly
Societies Act is not the appropriate one. He tells the others the story he
previously told me about how the people who have registered the Tot Club
defrauded some over a yacht purchase and its subsequent ‘loss’ in hurricane
Luis. Strange this is the yacht is still around but with a different name.
Back at the new house I start removing plaster with my new grinder (once I
work out how to turn it on) from pillars we want encased in wood. I am worried
that if I don’t take the plaster off the builders will apply the wood which then
won’t be flush with the wall above. The pillars they have encased on the
veranda look magnificent.
I notice that the aperture they have left for the new study window is too small
and they have made no provision for a wall between the new study and the new
hall. I find a piece of charcoal from a fire in the garden and write messages on
the floor and wall. I also leave the builder messages on his ‘phone.
Removing the plaster with a grinder isn’t as easy as I thought. In the end I work
out that if I cut strips through the plaster with the grinder I can knock the plaster
off quite easily with a wide bladed chisel and a club hammer. It doesn’t do my
sore finger too much good.
The Tot is on a yacht at the Catamaran Marina. We don’t say long partly as
yachts are uncomfortable for the number of people who turn up plus as I am
due on the Committee Boat for the start of Sailing Week at seven fifteen
tomorrow, I don’t want to drink much or stay late.
Day 360 – Sunday. Our alarm clock works, The dogs wake us up at quarter to
six. They are a bit puzzled as they are not taken for walk after their breakfast.
We are at the end of the road just before seven and wait a few minutes for
Anne. We have only gone a couple of hundred yards when she calls for me to
stop. Unbeknown to me she has arranged for us to pick someone else up. I
had arranged to pickup Moya and she asked if I could also take someone who
is staying with her. When we get to Moya’s the other passenger is the dreadful
American girl who came aboard Blue Leopard during Classics. She doesn’t
seem to realize I am driving the car as she tells everyone what a good sailor
she is. After we drop her off I tell everyone what a lousy sailor she is.
The Committee Boat sets off promptly from the dock at seven thirty. There are
lots of people on board, mostly fairly elderly. I am not sure how useful they will
be and it’s soon apparent most of them know little about sailing. It’s just a day
out for most of them. This further confirms my opinion that it’s about time
Sailing Week is run by sailors not hoteliers. The situation is compounded when,
on our way from the start to the finish we pick up more guests at Carlisle Bay

and drop some others off at Dickenson Bay. Surprising, the starts work very
well mainly due to Anne’s organisation and the efficiency of the crew who are
permanently employed on the big catamaran which is normally used for cruises
around the island.
My job is guns and I am horrified to find that they don’t appear to have been
cleaned since last year. This is confirmed when I find an unused cleaning kit.
The barrels are choked and I am not surprised they had a series of misfires last
year. I cover the deck with filthy gun oil and say I will take the guns home in the
evening for a proper clean.
The racing is from English harbour to Dickenson Bay and after all the boats are
started we set off for Dickenson Bay. The race is east around the island and it
seems crazy to me that they have set off yachts capable of ten knots on the
same course as boats capable of only five knots. It doesn’t make for fair racing.
On our way up to Dickenson Bay we stop twice to pick up ‘guests’. These are
fairly elderly, semi-infirm people who have to be helped on board. They
obviously have some influence with the organisers as they are no earthly use
on the boat. I am getting the impression that Sailing Week is a bit of a jolly for
friends and family of the Antigua Hotels and Tourism Association.
The first boats into Dickenson Bay take three and a half hours and the slowest
take seven proving that it was stupid to send such disparate boats on the same
course. The Race Officer wants to get into the bar so leaves the supplementary
committee boat on station to finish the race. I have been a bit surprised that
drinking on board started as early as ten thirty. There are several computer
systems on board and something goes wrong with the links ashore. Too much
time seems to be spent on the computers with little obvious benefit. The idea is
to get the results uploaded to the website yet the people really wanting to see
the results are still at sea.
When we get in I telephone Lindsay to come and collect us. I tell her we are
waiting in the car park and she can drive in. She doesn’t believe she can get in
as there is a manned barrier and leaves the car in the road but walks in by a
different route. After several telephone calls we find the car but no Lindsay.
When she finally appears she tells me that she knows that I would tell her to
drive in regardless of whether she was permitted to or not. On this occasion,
she was wrong.
Day 361 – Monday. Up before six in order to dive up to Dickenson Bay for the
start of the race down of the to windward/leeward race before finishing in Jolly
Harbour. We are picking up Anne, Ray and Moya at six thirty. Lindsay has to
drive the car back and I show her where she should have picked us up
yesterday.

Motoring out to the start line we hoist the ‘L’ Flag. It’s amazing ho many people
on the boat have no idea what it means. It does seem as though the majority of
people on the boat are here ‘on holiday’ rather that here to assist in the racing.
There are light and variable winds and the Race Officer abandons the first race
part way through and cancels the second. There is a two part problem with the
situation. Most people on the Committee Boat want to get into the bar plus
having courses fixed moths in advance there is no flexibility for the Race Officer
to change them. The ‘B’ Division (cruisers) do get a race as their course is
inshore where there is some wind.
We are in Jolly Harbour by two and I have arranged to meet Simon and
Christine, who are over from the U.K., at four (they both used to work for me in
the U.K. more than ten years ago but weren’t together then). I try ringing the
but can’t make contact. Rob and Amanda are on their boat so I go and make a
nuisance of myself for a couple of hours.
Wandering around Jolly Harbour, I run into two girls from Brighton.
Lindsay arrives at about three thirty and at four, still not having been able to
contact Simon & Christine, I go to the bar where I had suggested we have a
drink. At about four thirty Simon and Christine appear. They have been trying
to ring me but didn’t have my full number. We have a few drinks and then go to
Graeme’s boat where there is a Tot on Tour except that no one on the boat
seems to know it’s happening. I suggest that I will pick up Simon and Christine
on Wednesday and take the around the south side of the island. Rather than
stay in Jolly Harbour amongst the noisy crews we head off home.
Day 362 – Tuesday. It’s up again early, picking the others up at six thirty. The
racing today is from Jolly Harbour to English Harbour and, fortunately, the wind
is quite strong so there is quite good racing. One of the shot guns is proving to
be a be a bit of a problem and keeps misfiring. Also I totally misread one of the
Sailing Instructions and argue with the Race Officer and Assistant Race Officer.
They read it and agree with me. That evening Anne says she couldn’t
understand what we were doing. I get a copy of the Sailing Instructions and ask
Lindsay to read them. When she does it is perfectly clear that I and the others
have completely misread it but it’s primarily my fault as I first raised the
question.
We wander down to the Tot where I am told that I have accused one of the
people trying to change the Tot Club to be an organisation arranged they want it
as being a Hitler. This is not entirely true but the sentiment is similar.
Fortunately, most people agree that he is behaving in an autocratic manner
without any authority. He is Norwegian and I likened his attitude to that of Hitler
invading Norway.

Day 363 - Wednesday. A bit of a lie in as it’s Lay-day and there is no racing. I
have arranged to pick up Simon and Christine at ten thirty from near Jolly
Harbour. I have never been to the resort where they are staying. It appears to
be very nice.
We head down to English Harbour stopping on the way at the new house to
show them what we have taken on. We stop for a drink in the Admiral’s Inn then
take a tour of the Dockyard. They are quite impressed. From their they we go
up to Shirley Heights and then to Catherine’s for lunch where Lindsay joins us.
Lunch takes two hours and time is getting a bit tight to get them back to their
hotel to catch their taxi to the airport. They both say that they couldn’t really
understand why we moved to Antigua until they saw the English harbour area.
Despite having missed the Tot for the past few nights we decide not to go as It
is being held in someone’s house at the St. James’s Club as I am feeling too
worn out o be bothered to make the effort and I am not over keen on the couple.
Day 364 – Thursday. We don’t have to be so early today and I am picking the
others up at seven. Somehow, I completely forget bout Anne and it’s not until I
get to Moya’s when I am reminded that Anne needs to be picked up. I turn
around and collect Anne who had just about given up on me.
As the wind is quite strong the race is over quite quickly and we are in English
Harbour by two. Walking out of the harbour I run into the crew from Pipedream,
the yacht we beat into second place in 2004. At the time they said they weren’t
coming back having spent nineteen years trying to win Sailing Week. I remind
them and point out that they are back. They are not doing very well and say
they are definitely not coming back again.
On my way home I call into the office where Tracy and Lindsay are working. I
can’t be bothered to stop and want to go home for a siesta. No chance, the
dogs, who have been on their own since ten, won’t give me any peace.
The Tot is in Life Bar which is quite convenient except that the parking is
horrendous. Fortunately, a space opens up almost outside. Even more
fortunate as it starts to rain and continues very heavily. I am asked to test a
new member. She is very nervous as I have a reputation for failing people.
Fortunately, for her, I have left my glasses behind so I have to do it from
memory. I pass her more for her enthusiasm than knowledge.
Day 365 – Friday. The winds are very light but not too light to start a race
however the Race Officer is contemplating postponing which seems crazy.
Fortunately, a squall comes through just in time but he thinks it won’t last. I
point out that there is a fair quantity of cloud and, so long as there is cloud the
wind will hold. It does and, in fact, fills in quite well. I have one final problem
with a gun. I think I must have misloaded it. It jams and will not fire nor eject.
These guns really are past their ‘sell by’ date.

Geoff Bryant (from Brighton) comes alongside in a R.I.B.. We agree to meet up
later.
Racing finishes quite early and the last boat gets two guns. We are into English
Harbour by two and it is a tradition to fire off the remaining ammunition as we
come in. Two of the permanent crew on the catamaran use the guns the have
been coveting them all week. I am slightly relieved when they get some jams
and misfires.
Back on the dock Geoff and his crew are waiting. The Committee want a team
photo but since they can’t organise a piss up in a brewery I get fed up with
waiting and after fifteen minutes wander off to join Geoff at the Galley Bar.
Apparently, no sooner had I left than the photo was arranged. Maybe they were
waiting for me to leave.
Geoff and co. bring me up to date on happenings in Brighton and I end up
staying much longer than I expected. Fortunately, I have my car so I am no
reliant on Lindsay.
Lindsay tells me that our door and window furniture has arrived except that
three packages were dispatched but only two have arrived.
Day 366 – Saturday. We have been in Antigua a year. It sometimes seems
longer and at others as though we only arrived yesterday. Occasionally, it still
has a holiday feel about it.
As much as the dogs will let us, we have a bit of a lie in but not until after they
have been fed and Sunny is a real pain. She is the only dog I have ever come
across who doesn’t like food unless it’s what you are eating. She has to be
persuaded to eat which always takes about ten minutes.
At about nine we head up to the new house where work has progress
substantially although it’s very wet inside as much of it is open to the elements
and it’s rained a lot over the past couple of days. To some degree, there is less
and less for us to do and we are only tinkering at the edges as much as
anything to let the builder know we are taking an interest. After a fairly hard
week I am ready to go at three and Lindsay agrees.
As it’s Dockyard Day in English Harbour we don’t want to go anywhere near it.
We have declined our free invitations to the Lord Nelson’s Ball and go to the Tot
instead collecting a couple of DVDs on the way home. I get Lindsay to choose
them to ensure they are not ones we have seen before.
Rob and Amanda were due to come down from Jolly Harbour for dinner but
have cancelled. We are not sure whether it is the thought of our dogs (they are

not dog fans) or the thought of staying in the dungeon which is the bedroom in
the flat below our house which has caused them to change their minds.
Day 367 – Sunday. Back to the new house to do a bit more work. There are
two ornamental ponds which need filling but first of all the concrete around them
needs breaking up. I stand well back whenever Lindsay lays her hands on a
sledge hammer or pick. Although I can break it up much faster than her I let her
carry on as a combination of age and a build up of weariness is not making me
feel terribly enthusiastic.
Lindsay has forgotten to bring anything to drink so I have the idea of ringing
Mike who lives nearby and asking if we can borrow something. He volunteers
to bring it over. I have made a secure compound for the dogs which includes
the entire house and when Mike arrives they go ballistic. They make very good
guard dogs but it’s a bit disconcerting to friends. Mike has brought us a gallon
of water and four soft drinks. Having known the house when the previous
owner lived there he is amazed at what we are doing.
Lindsay has to leave at twelve as she has organised a book sale to raise funds
for Amazing Grace. I stay behind to finish filling the ponds but give up by one
and go home. After a shower I spend the afternoon relaxing and deciding that’s
what Sunday’s are for. When Lindsay gets back she collapses in her hammock
so I have to cook dinner.
The end of another Quiet Day in Paradise.