February 1989. Earlier in the day, while sailing from Anguilla to Guadeloupe, the winds were calm, and my shipmate, Larry, a Madison Avenue ad exec, (whom, I coaxed into taking this journey), and I decided to drop anchor and have late breakfast. (Neither Larry nor I had much sailing experience, other than several small sojourns on Long Island.) As we came to a stop, I told Larry to release the anchor. Quickly, the chain spilled out fast, and despite the windlass, the chain had jumped onto the gypsie and ran out to the bitter end before either of us were able to react. Stupidly we hadn’t secured it properly. Bye-bye chain. We were towed to nearby Antigua, the largest of the three Leeward Islands that make up the nation of Antigua and Barbuda. Standing on the dock in Jolly Harbor, (the irony wasn’t lost on us) we were greeted by the Harbor Master. He informed us It could be 24-48 hours before a new anchor could be located. Things don’t move fast on Antigua. Just before leaving us he looked back at us, “Antigua was discovered by Christopher Columbus on his 2nd voyage in 1493”. His factoid didn’t really lessen the blow. The boat had now officially become a money pit, and the focus shifted from mastering sailing, to capping expenses. While Larry went to search for a phone, I looked for a bar. After a short walk, I came upon Wiley’s Pub. There was a sign posted to the door. “NO BAD ELEMENTS ALLOWED”. It made me question myself. “Was I a “bad element?” “Do I bring trouble?” I flashed back to several youthful indiscretions. Hesitating no more, I opened the ratty screen door and entered. It was quiet. Just a few locals sitting at a corner table. I sat down at the bar. The bartender placed a small plate of nuts down. “You look like you lost your anchor” he said with a hint of amusement. “Clearly word travels fast on Antigua.” I responded. He nodded in agreement, as he placed a glass with ice in front of me, followed by a healthy pour of Mount Gay rum. Just as I lifted the glass to my lips, like a Greek chorus, the three locals in the corner, all pipped up in unison. “Sometimes the wind just takes you to a place” “Isn’t it romantic” “Did you know that Antigua was discovered by Columbus” Followed by all three bursting out in laughter. It was contagious because I started laughing. “Next round is on me” I told the bartender. This was met with delight and cheers. Thirty minutes later, Larry joined me, along with my newfound friends, George, Ollie, and Alex. After a few more drinks, George suggested he take us to a great restaurant. Moments later, Larry and I were sitting next to George’s in his pick-up truck, with Oliie and Alex in the back. Speeding down the road, George zigged and zagged. Larry sat in the middle seat, occasionally shouting about goats in the road. I admired the lush countryside with flashes of coconut trees, flowering tamarinds, and bougainvillea on one side, and the pristine Caribbean Sea on the other. After snaking along the volcanic hills for several more minutes, we arrived at Dixie’s, a local favorite in Radcliffe Quay, in St. John. More rum drinks, then plates featuring huge portions of deep-fried prawn fritters, goat curry, grilled steak, jerk chicken and sweet potato chips, then more rum drinks. Looking out at the blueish green sea, I raised my glass, “A toast. To Christopher Columbus, who might have discovered Antigua, but unlikely knew the hospitality we’ve found” ...
F.J. Clarkson