Wednesday, March 6, 1996 - Last Log

Busy day. When we were at IMS, Roy took the mainsail to the sailmaker there to have it repaired. Yesterday, when he unrolled the sail to put it back on the mast, he saw some broken plastic pieces that needed to be replaced. Also, neither of us could figure out how to put the batten holders back on. On this morning's VHF net, we asked if anyone knew of a good, reliable place to get a sail repaired, and someone told us to take it to Barrow Sails at Powerboats. Roy talked to them on the VHF, and they said they'd try to fix it for us this week, and they'd pick it up if we'd take it to the dock. So we rolled the sail back up (no easy task), Roy inflated my good old rubber rowboat, dropped the sail into it, and towed it to the TTYA dock. Then he took his bicycle ashore the same way, much to my amazement. The rowboat was too small for the bike, but he put the bike in it anyway. I thought either the boat would sink or the bike would fall off it, but neither happened, and he got his bike ashore successfully. He came back to the boat to get his clothes and heard someone calling him on the VHF. He thought it was Barrow Sails, so he told them he'd come ashore as soon as he could. Instead, it was his friend Rudy, who had brought over a friend who was interested in buying the extra Speed/Log that Roy wanted to sell. Roy thought everything was complete and brand new, but when he opened the box, he was embarrassed to discover that he had used some of the new parts as replacements. Rudy's friend is going to see if he can get it to work with the old parts. If he can, he'll buy it. Under the circumstances, Roy is only going to charge him $50 instead of $150. Rudy drove the mainsail to Powerboats, and Roy followed on his bicycle. The sailmaker had never seen batten holders like the ones we have before, but he's going to check around and see if he can find suitable replacements. In the meantime, I paddled around Point Gourde to returnt the charts that the man on Tanamara had loaned us three weeks ago. I didn't know the color of his boat or the length or whether it was a sloop or a ketch or a schooner or a yawl or a cat or whatever. All I knew was the name and that it was anchored somewhere in the vicinity of Powerboats -- among 300 other sailboats. It only took me an hour to get over there (including the time spent hiding in a cave out of a sudden shower), but it took more than an hour to find Tanamara. I paddled all over the anchorage, looking at boat names and asking people if they knew where Tanamara was anchored, but no one did. Finally, I asked a man in a rowboat, who was just pulling away from his boat. To my surprise and joy, he was the one who had loaned us the charts! Another two minutes, and he would have been gone. He returned to his boat, and I handed up the charts. On my way back to Jofian, I checked out Little Alcatraz and was surprised to discover it wasn't abandoned at all! A supply boat was just leaving the dock, and a line of strong young men were carrying heavy sacks on their shoulders up the long flight of steps. When I was within about fifty feet of the shore, I got shooed away, so I went out another hundred feet and paddled around the backside of the island. It was three o'clock when I got back to Jofian. Roy had eaten lunch but I hadn't, so I gulped down whatever was handy and then went to the grocery store. (This is the last log mom wrote, the next day she went for a walk on a nature trail and never returned. Her body was found three days later.)

Tuesday, March 5, 1996 - Trinidad

Awoke to a beautiful world. We're surrounded on three sides by high, tree-covered hills. Hundreds of sailboats fill this cove. This is the loveliest place we've been since we've been in Trinidad. After breakfast, we put our Royaks in the water and paddled around for a while. First time we've been Royaking in months. It felt so good to be back in our Royaks! Later, I went to TTYA and registered to use their facilities, which include dinghy docks, restrooms and showers, a nice laundry, and a workshop where Roy can work on projects if he wants to. Just as I was about to return to the boat, Roy arrived on his way to town to buy rivets for the mainsail. It was about 12:30 by then, so we ate lunch in the little restaurant at TTYA. Then Roy departed, and I paddled back to Jofian. The wind came up, and I soon noticed that we were dragging. We weren't going very fast, but we were headed towards a moored trimaran. I kept watching, figuring if we got much closer to the trimaran, I'd have to start the engine and power forward. Fortunately, Roy soon returned. He dove on the bottom and saw that it was mud-covered sand. He raised the anchor, motored back to where we had been, and dropped the anchor again, but it still didn't hold, so we raised it again and moved to a different location. This time, the anchor seemed to hold, but the wind had died down, so we won't know for sure until we get another blow, but the anchor held in reverse. I've been taking a Spanish course Tuesday and Thursday evenings at the Trinidad and Tobago Yacht Club (TTYC), so at 4:30 I went to that. It was after eight when I returned, but there was a bright full moon, and Roy had lit the masthead light, so I had no problem finding Jofian. Roy had also cooked supper, which was delicious.

Monday, March 4, 1996 - Trinidad

At the close of the previous log, I had just humiliated myself by falling off the gangplank and was getting ready to fly back to California for a couple of months. The flight to California went smoothly, with excellent, although tight, connections. Arrived in San Jose on schedule, but when I saw the new terminal, I thought I'd gotten off in the wrong city. What beautiful buildings! I didn't recognize the place at all. Kathy and Brian picked me up in Ladybug and took me to their apartment. It was great to be back in California, but the abrupt thirty or forty degree drop in temperature whammied my system, and I soon came down with a sinus infection. Unfortunately, I passed it on to just about everyone who came near me, including Bill and his family. Went to Kaiser and got a prescription that not only cured the sinus infection but actually stopped the chronic cough I've had for years. How wonderful not to be coughing any more! My scrapes and bruises from the fall were healing nicely, but my right thumb continued to hurt, so I went to Kaiser about that. They x-rayed it and found I'd torn the ligament and a small piece of bone had broken loose. Apparently this happened when I first slid off the board and was trying to hang on with just my right hand. When my body went down, all my weight went onto the one hand and tore the ligament. The doctor had a splint put on my thumb, which was very awkward. I couldn't do much of anything with my right hand, but whenever I started to feel sorry for myself, I thought of Linda and Roy and realized how lucky I was. For me, it's nothing but a temporary inconvenience, not a lifetime disability. After three or four weeks, the splint came off and I could use my right thumb again. However, I also found out that I have arthritis in the joints of my thumb. It had never hurt before, so I guess the fall exacerbated it. I greatly enjoyed seeing my children and grandchildren again and meeting my new granddaughter, Hailey, who is a doll. She doesn't appreciate grandma holding her, however. I also found out I'm going to be a great-grandmother! Yikes, that sounds old! Paul and Heather are expecting a baby in August. After several days at Kathy's place (too many from Kathy's point of view), I began staying at various hostels, especially the one above Saratoga and the one in the Los Altos Hills. I also stayed at the Santa Cruz hostel a few times and once each at Pigeon Point, Montara, and Marin. They were all beautiful locations, and I greatly enjoyed hiking on the Marin Headlands. It was a glorious day. I also had a great hike behind Hidden Villa hostel in the Los Altos Hills, in Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park, and the Forest of Nisene Marks. Nancy invited me to stay at her house in Pittsburg, so I went up there in January. She has rented the house to two friends and only goes home on weekends. During the week, she stays in her San Francisco apartment, across the street from her job. She got rid of her car, since she no longer needs it. The BART station is close to her apartment, it takes her to Concord, and a bus takes her from there to within a couple of blocks of her house. I greatly enjoyed staying there. It gave me a chance to unload all my junk from Ladybug and get it reorganized. Nancy threw a party for me one evening. Another evening, she took me and her renters, Linda and Chris, to dinner. One Saturday, she invited me to San Francisco and showed me her job and her apartment. We also visited Jeanette's apartment and walked down to the waterfront, near the old Sutro Baths. It was a very pleasant day. I was thrilled to go to drugstores and grocery stores and see all the STUFF. I was able to buy things I hadn't seen for months. I bought so much, I had to buy another bag to carry it all back. I'd have liked to buy more, but there's a limit to how much I can carry. Fortunately, I was able to check my bags all the way from San Jose to Trinidad, so I only had one little carry-on bag to juggle on the plane. The return trip to Trinidad was something else. For a while, I wasn't sure I'd make it out of Miami. The trip took two days, because of the impossibility of making the connection in Miami. Since I had to leave San Jose at the crack of dawn, I rented a motel room the day before and unloaded my stuff. Then I returned Ladybug to Kathy's garage and rode buses back to the motel. Got a good night's sleep, woke up at 3:30 a.m., ate breakfast at a 24-hour restaurant next door, and took a shuttle bus to the airport at five. The trip from San Jose to Miami went smoothly. In Dallas, the electric tram was out of commission, but luckily I didn't have far to go from one gate to the next. Arrived in Miami on schedule and took a bus to the AYH hostel in Palm Beach. It was the worst hostel I ever stayed at, but it was tolerable for one night. Check-out time was noon, so I got to the airport around one o'clock for my 4:40 flight. Checked in at the American Airlines counter and was told the flight left from Gate E8, so I went there and relaxed with a good book. Around three o'clock, I began wondering why I was the only person in the waiting area. There were no airlines personnel at the counter and no sign announcing the flight. When no one had shown up by 3:30, I really began to get uneasy. I decided to go to the ladies' room before my flight. On the way there, I passed one of the monitors that list the departures, and I looked for the one to Port of Spain. It was hard to see, because it was way down at the bottom of the screen. When I finally found it, I was shocked to see that the gate had been changed! No announcement had been made on the P.A. I immediately began hurrying to the new gate, which was in another building. I had to go up an escalator and ride a tram. It took ten minutes to get there. If I had waited much longer, I might have missed my flight. I had to go through another security check. Then I grabbed my book and carry-on bag and hurried to the ladies' room. It was several minutes later before I realized I didn't have my pocketbook! I must not have picked it up when it came out of the x-ray machine. It had my ticket, passport, money, credit cards, everything in it. Panicked, I rushed back to the conveyor belt. No sign of my pocketbook! I asked the employees, but they just shrugged. I was nearly in despair, when another employee called me over to her desk. She had my pocket-book. What a relief! Everything was in it. I thanked her profusely and went to the waiting area. Now one would think that after going through all that, I would be super, super careful from then on, but no. I had taken my ticket out of my purse and stuck it in my book so it would be handy for boarding. It was getting close to flight time, and I hadn't heard a boarding announcement, so I got up to go over to the counter and check. The ticket slipped out of my book and fell on the floor without my noticing it! Fortunately, a gentleman seated across from me saw it, picked it up, and handed it to me. I was beginning to wonder if I was being sent a message not to take that flight, but decided that was silly superstition. Soon I was on the plane, all relaxed, and the flight went smoothly. Arrived in Trinidad around ten o'clock at night. Had no problem going through Immigration, but when I got to Customs, a bureaucratic hassle began. I had taken our old sonar to California and exchanged it for a newer, forward-looking model. I didn't think I'd have to pay duty on it, since it was a replacement for a piece of equipment we'd already brought into the country. To be on the safe side, I asked if I had to declare it, and they said I did. Then the officer asked for a letter. What letter? I couldn't find out what letter he wanted. He sent me to the Customs office, and again I was asked for a letter, but no one would tell me what kind of a letter they wanted. Once, I thought he said a letter from the owner, so I told him I was one of the owners of the boat; did he want a letter from me? No, no, no! But he still didn't tell me what kind of letter or from whom. I stood around for an hour-and-a-half (that is not an exaggeration) while the officer busied himself with other matters. Finally he told me to get a letter from the marina, showing the name of the boat and when we had arrived, and to take the letter to Customs in Chaguaramas. It took him less than two minutes to tell me that. Why hadn't he said so in the first place? He had kept me waiting so long, I was afraid Roy might have decided I wasn't on the plane and left. (Roy couldn't come into the security area where I was, of course.) Roy was worried, too, and he asked an airport employee to see if I was there. Luckily, the employee found me and reported back to Roy, so we were both relieved. The Customs officer kept our sonar and said I could come back for it after I got the letter and permission from Chaguaramas Customs, so that meant another long trip the next day. Roy and I were delighted when I finally emerged. We took a taxi all the way to Peake's at a cost of 300 TT's, which was well worth it, since it was the middle of the night, and I had all that heavy luggage. The previous night, Roy had had an unfortunate and unnecessary misadventure. When I was in California, Roy had phoned me every Monday afternoon at two o'clock, but the last Monday I was there, he hadn't been able to phone me, because the slip of paper with Nancy's phone number on it had blown away in a gust of wind. He had Kathy's phone number, so he called her and told her answering machine what had happened and to please let me know, so Kathy phoned me and told me. That was a relief, because I'd been worrying that something had happened to Roy. The next morning, I left Nancy's house and went to San Jose to get my new glasses. I spent the night at the Sanborn hostel, and the next day went to a motel, as stated above. In the meantime, Roy had been trying to reach me through Kathy, but I hadn't known that. Kathy gave him Nancy's phone number, but when he called there, he found out I'd left. He called Kathy again, but she didn't know where I was. (That was on Tuesday.) Wednesday night, he called Kathy again, and she told him I'd gone to a motel and would be flying out the next morning. Unfortunately, I had never gotten around to telling Roy that the return flight would take two days, so he thought I was going to "surprise" him and return a day early. Thursday night, he went all the way out to the airport, a distance of maybe thirty or forty miles that required two maxis and a route taxi. When he got there he found out from American Airlines that I wasn't on that flight (American only has one flight a day to Trinidad), so he had to make that long trip back to Peake's late at night. When he got to Port of Spain, the big buses had stopped running, so Roy had to walk about a mile-and-a-half through poorly lit, nearly deserted streets to where he could get a maxi to Chaguaramas. Fortunately, he had had the foresight to take a container of mace with him. When a man approached him and demanded money, Roy said, "I have mace!" and the man took off. All's well that ends well, they say. We were finally back together, safe and sound. Roy had turned the boat around and rigged up a new gangplank that was much easier to use. I was able to get on and off the boat without falling. Carnival season was in full swing, but we were disappointed by it. Most of the activities were late at night, so we didn't go to them. We went to a daytime presentation of "traditional" carnival. Most of it was boring, because we couldn't understand a word the characters were saying, but some parts were the grossest performances we had ever seen in our lives. Young men with their bodies painted blue and with long tails and wooden pitchforks, danced around in all sorts of contortions, including getting down in the dirt and eating mouthfuls of whatever filth was down there. They slobbered and growled and looked absolutely disgusting. Sometimes they went right up to members of the audience in a threatening manner and were given money, which they stuck in their mouths and chewed on. These were the "Jab M'lassies" or "Blue Devils". "Jab" is a mispronunciation of the French word "diable", which means "devil". A couple of hundred years ago, when all this started, molasses was abundant and cheap. In their Carnival celebrations, some of the slaves would smear themselves with molasses and dance around, pretending to be devils. Thus the name "Jab M'lassies". We stayed as far away from them as we could. They were far more disgusting that I can describe. Another time, we went to a daytime parade, and were greatly disappointed to see that it was the same group that had been at the previous performance. It was the sorriest, most poorly organized parade we had ever seen. The "music" consisted of banging on old gas cans. Since we'd come with a group, we couldn't return until it was over. We were very glad when the "parade" finally ended. The middle of February, we hauled out at IMS. That proved to be a mistake. We chose IMS because it was less crowded and seemed to have good shops. We quickly found out why it was less crowded -- no one in their right mind would go there. The electricity had been wired wrong, and the voltage kept fluctuating between 115 and 85, which is kind of rough on power tools and microwave ovens and other electrical gadgets. People had been complaining for months, but nothing was done about it. There was no visible sign of management, and there didn't seem to be much communication between the office and the yard workers. Before we had signed up to haul out, we had asked if we could get enough scaffolding to go all around the boat, and we were assured we could have all the scaffolding we were willing to pay for. As soon as the boat was on land, I went to the office and asked for enough scaffolding to go from one end of the boat to another and was told we'd have it in the morning. The morning came and went. In the afternoon, we asked the guy in charge of bringing the scaffolding, and he said he'd take care of it. A week later, we were finally brought enough scaffolding for about two-thirds of the boat. I went back to the offfice and asked for more. I also asked the guy in charge and again he said he'd take care of it. In the meantime, Roy and I were greatly hampered in working on the boat. When the weekend arrived, we finally just went out and rounded up the scaffolding we needed from pieces that were lying around the yard. This wasn't easy. The planks weighed close to 200 pounds. I'm under doctor's orders not to lift more than 20 pounds, so Roy scrounged up an old wheelbarrow, loaded my end of the plank into the wheelbarrow, and I tried to push it. Unfortunately, the thing hit a little ditch, wobbled, and the plank slipped off and hit Roy's leg, making an ugly gash. We finally got the scaffolding in place, however, and then our work proceeded apace.

Tuesday, November 28, 1995 - Trinidad

This is the day I was not going to go to town. I was going to relax and go paddling. Ha! Spent the morning going through my papers and deciding what I wanted to take with me. I'll take all the junk related to my Kaiser claims and get that straightened out once and for all. Will also take whatever I need to do my income tax return. Went to the mini-mart to get some oranges. A woman there recognized me and told me there was a notice in the mail bin in the office that we had a package at the post office. I knew that had to be the mail from Steve that Roy had been waiting for. The office was closed until 12:30, so I went back to the boat, fixed lunch, and told Roy to prepare for a trip downtown. At 12:30, I went to the office to get the slip. Didn't find it in the bin that I thought said "J". Then the receptionist told me that was "I", not "J". The next bin was the one I needed. So I've been looking for mail in the wrong bin all this time. Sure looked like "J". Anyway, I found the slip, but it didn't say "parcel"; it said "card only", so that confused me. There was also a letter from Roy's daughter, Carol. I hurried to the bus, where Roy was already, and showed him the slip and Carol's letter. I couldn't understand why the post office would send us a notification for a card, but Roy figured it was the card to get the package of mail from Steve. While we were discussing all this, we rode past the Carenage post office, so we got off the bus at West Mall and caught a maxi back to Carenage. Roy was right. The "card" was a notice that there was a parcel for him at the Ajax Street post office. Certainly a roundabout way to do things. Anyway, we caught another maxi into Port-of-Spain and got off at Ajax Street. After half an hour or so, while the clerks moved as slowly as possible, we emerged with Roy's package of mail, which he was very glad to get. Roy had work to do on the boat, so he caught a blue bus back to Peake's, while I stayed downtown to try to get some things that Roy wanted. Made a couple of fruitless phone calls. Forgot to remove my card from the phone. I'm used to dropped coins into a public phone; I haven't gotten used to these cards yet. Of course, by the time I realized I no longer had it, it was long gone. Had 30 TT's left on it. I bought a 20 TT card, so I won't have so much to lose next time. Went to practically every electronics store in town, but none had the panel-mount DC voltmeter Roy wanted. I'll get it in California and mail it to him. But in one of the stores, I found 12-volt LED's, which is something else Roy wants. Just bought one. If it's okay, I'll go back and get more. Phoned a hardware store that might be able to get the armature Roy needs for his Rockwell trimsaw. They told me to call back tomorrow. I'm going to wrap up the log for now, because little of interest will be happening. Roy will be working on the boat, and I'll be flying back to California. Hasta la vista!

Monday, November 27, 1995 - Trinidad

This was an exciting day for Trinidad. The ceremonial opening of the new Parliament occurred this morning. I was downtown and could have seen the whole thing, but I didn't know what was going on until I heard a newscast while I was riding a bus, so I missed it. All I got to see were the traffic police, spiffy in new uniforms with white jackets, black trousers, and black leather belts. They looked quite impressive. I rode a bus to Diego Martin to see what was there. Went all the way to the end of the line. Then I got off and walked around. Found a museum that had been a plantation house in the 19th century. The plantation comprised 1659 acres and raised sugar cane. There was a large waterwheel that turned the machinery to grind the cane. Then a blight hit the cane crop, so the plantation turned to raising cocoa and no longer needed the wheel. The waterwheel is still there but is decaying. Spent the rest of the day walking around in Port-of-Spain trying to find a birthday present for Roy but not succeeding. Roy painted the mizzen mast. It looks gorgeous. My bargain permanent didn't take. I'll have to have it redone when I get back to California.

Sunday, November 26, 1995 - Trinidad

Sort of a weird day. In the morning, the sky was completely blue and beautiful, so Roy painted the mizzen mast. As soon as he had finished, clouds moved in and it started raining. Luckily, it didn't last long, and Roy managed to salvage the paint job. I was feeling rather crummy from my cold. Updated the log and then tried to make backups, but the A drive refused to cooperate. Since it's Sunday, Roy treated me to lunch at Pizza Boys. We carried our umbrellas, but it didn't rain a drop. As usual, the pizzas and cherry shakes were delicious. When we got back to the boat, the sky was blue, so I went paddling. Five minutes later, it was raining. By the time I got back to the boat, it had stopped. I wiped off my glasses and set out again. Paddled along the coast of the island across from us. I was surprised to see so many houses. Most of them were quite nice, with sturdy retaining walls and docks. They were accessible only by boat. I wondered if people lived in them year-round or if they were vacation rentals. Got back to the boat right after sunset. The tide was fairly high. I should have had Roy hand my shower bag to me after I got on the dock, but I was a smarty-pants and thought I could do it by myself. I inched my way carefully out on the board, trying to get in position to jump to the dock, but the boat bounced or something, and I lost my grip and went towards the dock before I was ready. I thought I'd go into the water, but my foot landed on the edge of the dock and slipped. The next thing I knew, I was face down on the dock with my legs hanging over the edge. A neighbor was hurrying to my assistance, so I immediately leaped to my feet, assured him I was fine, and headed towards the shower room. Wouldn't you know the neighbors would be sitting on their deck when that happened. I was far more embarrassed than hurt. No broken bones -- just a few bruises, scrapes, and scratches. In a couple of days, I'll be good as new, but I'll never be able to face our neighbors again. A few hours later, the tide had gone down some, and I needed to take my pot to the restroom and empty it. Roy lifted my pot off the boat and showed me the safe way to get onto the dock. When I got to the restroom, one toilet was completely clogged up, and the other was locked. Someone had turned the latch as she left and closed the door. There was a release hole in the knob, and I had had lots of experience rescuing three-year-olds who had locked themselves in the bathroom, so I went back to the boat and got an awl, but the awl didn't work, so I went back to the boat again and got a small, thin screwdriver. That did the trick instantly, but seconds before I got there, a woman flushed the clogged toilet and out gushed the flood, all over the floor, out the door, down the walkway. I feel sorry for the poor maid in the morning.

Saturday, November 25, 1995 - Trinidad

A boat about half a mile from us caught fire this morning. The people were calling for help on the VHF. Several dinghies zoomed over there and soon had the fire under control. On the net this morning, the guy on Itchy announced that he had charts and guides to the Windward and Leeward islands that he wanted to swap, so I contacted him and arranged to meet him later this morning at TTYA. Roy went with me. We carried our umbrellas, because it was sprinkling when we left the boat. By the time we got on the bus, it was pouring. I couldn't see out the fogged-up windows, so I told the driver we wanted to get out at TTYA. He confused TTYA with TTYC. When the rain let up and I could see, I was fairly certain we'd gone past the TTYA, but the driver kept insisting it was farther. We finally got to the TTYC, which is about five miles farther down the road, got out of the maxi, crossed the road, and caught a bus back to the TTYA. The guy from Itchy had four charts and two guides that we could use. He was on his way west, so we took him back to the Jofian and showed him a bunch of charts of the Western Caribbean. He picked out the ones he wanted, and we had a deal. Both of us came out ahead.

Friday, November 24, 1995 - Trinidad

Went downtown in the morning and bought my ticket to Miami. I'll leave here December 4th at 9:15 a.m. From Miami, I'll try to fly stand-by to California. I can hardly wait. It's been almost three years since we left Richmond. I'm looking forward to seeing my children and grandchildren again and meeting my new granddaughter. Went over to the cruise-ship terminal to try to get a map from tourist information. It was a nicer terminal than the ones in the ABC islands, but the tourist information booth left a lot to be desired. They were out of maps. In fact, they were out of just about everything. First time I ever saw a tourist information booth that wasn't loaded with brochures. This island just isn't very tourist oriented. Walked around and did a little shopping. What a madhouse this city is! The sidewalks and shops are so jammed with people, you can scarcely move. I finally gave up, bought a few groceries at HiLo, and returned to the boat. Roy has almost finished working on the mizzen mast. All he has to do is paint it and refinish the base. It looks like a brand new mast.

Thursday, November 23, 1995 THANKSGIVING DAY - Trinidad

The Thanksgiving dinner at the yacht club was scheduled for five o'clock, so I talked Roy into taking the day off and going to the tar pits with me. We took the 10:30 free bus to town, walked over to the new City Gate bus terminal, and caught a "Super Express" bus to San Fernando. Trinidadians seem unable to pronounce "three". At best, it comes out "tree". This morning, it sounded like "two". When I handed the driver two two-TT bus tickets, he kept saying what sounded to both Roy and me as "Two dollars each." This confused us, since that was the amount we were giving him. (They say "dollars" for "TT's", which always confuses us.) Finally, a customer showed us a three-dollar (TT) ticket. Then we realized he meant "three", not "two", so I gave him another two-TT ticket. It was a long, uncomfortable ride to San Fernando. A wizened old man next to me kept saying in French, "Un, deux, trois" (one, two, three) and holding up three fingers. I told him I understood, but he kept on, so I had to just ignore him. Towards the end of the ride, he kept trying to tell a young man who was standing to sit down, but the young man was busy flirting with a young woman, so he continued to stand. This annoyed the old man. Everyone was laughing at him. It was a relief when he finally got off the bus. By the time we got to San Fernando, it was nearly one o'clock, and we still had to get to La Brea. I was worried about running out of time. We caught a maxi and got to La Brea in about half an hour. We scarcely had time to get off the bus before a self-styled tour guide pounced upon us and began leading us on a tour of the pitch lake, which he said was the largest in the world. He gave an interesting tour, spoke good English, and knew a lot of facts and figures, some of which we were skeptical of. He had two assistants, whom he referred to as "demonstrators". They presented me with fresh-picked flowers and pulled up chunks of pitch to show to us. The guide said that 300 to 400 tons of pitch a day were collected from the lake. A nearby processing plant boiled the pitch at 330 degrees Fahrenheit, filtered out the impurities, poured it into barrels, and let it harden into asphalt, which is shipped all over the world. He claimed that 75% of all the asphalt in the world comes from this lake, which we doubted. We both considered 100 TT's would be a generous amount to pay him, so we were shocked when he demanded 300 TT's for himself plus another 100 for the demonstrators. We tried to reason with him, but he insisted. He was a large young man, had his two assistants, and was in his own country. We were two small people, no longer young, and the only foreigners for miles around, so we ended up being intimidated into paying him what he demanded. We were glad it wasn't more. We felt ripped off, but just wanted to get out of there. By the time we got back to San Fernando, it was 3:30 and we were afraid we'd be late for the dinner, so we took a maxi instead of the big bus. It was a lot more comfortable and much faster. It only cost five TT's each, so we kicked ourselves for not taking a maxi to San Fernando. When we got back to Port-of-Spain, we caught another maxi to West Mall, where we had to catch another maxi to the yacht club. It was nearly five o'clock by then. Several maxis went by, but they were too full to stop. Finally, one stopped and we leaped on. Got to Linda's Bakery in five minutes and picked up the pie we'd ordered for the pot-luck dessert. Reached the yacht club restaurant at one minute past five. Then, of course, the dinner didn't start for nearly an hour. We were lucky enough to get a table with a compatible couple, so we enjoyed a pleasant conversation as well as a delicious meal. Roy and I have so much to be thankful for. We're thankful we're still healthy and agile. We're thankful our brains are still functioning normally (some people might question that). We're thankful we're able to explore exotic lands. We're very thankful we're citizens of the United States of America. Above all, we're thankful we have such wonderful children. Each and every one of them has turned out so well. We're both as proud as can be of all our children.

Wednesday, November 22, 1995 - Trinidad

Roy continued working on the mizzen mast. He gave me one of his sandals to take to a cobbler's to see if they can repair the broken strap. On the net this morning, a cruiser at the yacht club had asked for educational software. He is donating a computer to the St. Dominic School for Abused and Abandoned Children, and he wanted some software to go with it, so I told him I'd bring over a foreign-language vocabulary-drill program. He was happy to get it. He had a CD-Rom on his notebook computer. It played the most beautiful music. The fidelity was astonishing. From the yacht club, I walked to Pizza Boys and ate lunch. Then I went downtown and left his sandal at a cobbler's. They said it would be ready "later". No clue as to how much later. Walked to Queen's Park West, where I had seen a nice-looking beauty salon. Had a much-needed perm. They did a very good job for half the price in the United States. By the time I got out of there, it was nearly five o'clock. Picked up the sandal and caught a bus to West Mall, where I bought chicken for supper. It was pitch dark by the time I got back to the boat. Could hardly find my way through the yard. I wondered why they didn't have more lights on. Found out when I got to the boat -- most of the electricity was off throughout the area. The water was off, too. Roy had to run the engine to fix supper. He had a delicious supper all ready for me.

Tuesday, November 21, 1995 - Trinidad

Roy has been repairing the mizzen mast on the boat, instead of removing it. The mast had split open, so Roy had to replace large portions of it. He's doing a super job and is almost finished, despite the daily downpours. As usual, I helped by staying out of his hair. That's the one thing I'm good at. Spent the whole day downtown. Picked up Roy's glasses, found the tiny public library, and went to a movie. This is the first place we've been since leaving Florida that had movie theaters. The theater had undoubtedly been grand back in the 30's, but it's showing its age. It didn't even have a drinking fountain! I got so thirsty I bought a carton of orange drink at the refreshment stand. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have touched the stuff. The pricing scheme for seats was a little strange. They were classed as box, balcony, circle, and house. The prices ranged from 15 TT's down to 7. Since they were so cheap, I figured I might as well buy the best, so I got box, which turned out to be what we used to call "first balcony" or "mezzanine"; it was the front row upstairs. There was a double feature, a lot of ads, and previews. The two movies were fairly good.

Monday, November 20, 1995 - Trinidad

Roy finally got rid of his cold. He gave it to me. I spent most of the day riding buses. Went downtown after breakfast to buy a new swimsuit, as both my old ones are wearing out. I had seen an ad in the paper for a swimwear store at Long Circular Road and Delhi in St. James. The suits in the picture looked good, so I wanted to go there. Walked all over the bus terminal, looking for a bus to St. James but didn't find one. Asked at the information booth and was told to go to the yellow maxi stand a block away. Walked over there and was told to take a route taxi on the street just past Court's furniture store, so I went there. The entire block had a line of waiting taxis. I went to the head of the line and found a taxi that would take me near where I was going. When the driver told me to get out of the cab, I did so but was totally lost. Began walking in the direction the driver had indicated. Fortunately, I looked down a sidestreet and saw Long Circular Mall, so I went over there, but it didn't look the way it had last week and I couldn't find my way to Long Circular Road. Walked around and around. Finally asked a guard. He told me to go up to the next level. I did so, and lo! there everything looked familiar. The mall is built on the side of a hill. It's sort of weird. Anyway, I finally found Long Circular Road, but I didn't know which direction to go to get to Delhi, so I phoned the store and they told me. It was only a block away. They didn't have exactly the suit I wanted, but I bought an attractive one at a good price. Returned to downtown Port-of-Spain, found an optical shop, and dropped off Roy's double-bifocal glasses that need a new nose-piece. Then I went to Scott's and bought the hose attachments for the new vacuum cleaner. Ate a crummy lunch at McDonald's, went to the bus terminal, and caught a Carenage bus. Got off at Ace Hardware and bought a fluorescent-light fixture. Then I walked a couple of blocks to West Mall and bought chicken and cereal at HiLo. Also bought some Pantene shampoo and conditioner. Then I returned to the boat. Last week, there had been an announcement on the net about a Thanksgiving Dinner. Unfortunately, I hadn't written down the details, but I thought it was at Powerboats. A few days later, I heard an announcement for another Thanksgiving dinner. It was at TTYA (Trinidad and Tobago Yachting Association), so I went there to sign up for it but was greatly disappointed by the looks of the place. It was more of a snackbar than a restaurant, and it smelled of fried grease, so I didn't sign up. This morning, there was an announcement for a Thanksgiving dinner at TTYC (Trinidad and Tobago Yacht Club), and I realized it was the one I had heard of first. Today was the deadline for signing up, so Roy and I caught a bus and went over there. Much more like it! This was a nice restaurant on the edge of the water. It had tablecloths and china plates and silverware. It was at least ten times the size of the snackbar at TTYA. The people were very pleasant, too. The menu looked great and included turkey imported from the U.S. The price was 65 TT's, so we signed up and paid. They're even going to provide free transportation back to Peake's after the dinner. Dessert will be pot-luck, so we stopped at Linda's Bakery and ordered an apple pie. While we were there, the rain suddenly came down in a deluge. The sound of the rain beating on the roof was the loudest I'd ever heard. We were sure lucky we were under a roof. Anyone outside would have been drenched in a minute. When the rain quit, we returned to the boat. Roy looked at the vacuum cleaner and its hose. He said it was not going to do the job of picking up the sawdust; he needed a shop vac. Why hadn't he said that in the first place? Grrrr. But later, he tried out the new vacuum cleaner and really liked it. Then he had a ball vacuuming everything in sight. Roy cooked a delicious supper, while I showered and shampooed. This cold is making me very tired, so I went to bed at 8:30.

Sunday, November 19, 1995 - Trinidad

Robin showed up to see us off on the tour of the eastern side of the island, so I was finally able to return the ticket. It's a shame I can't use it. It will cost about $385 for a round-trip ticket just to Miami. We went past Queen's Park Savannah, which is a large, grassy park in Port-of-Spain. I'd been wanting to see it and wasn't disappointed. Then the bus climbed a high hill and stopped at an overlook. We could see all of Port-of-Spain, much of the surrounding area, and way out to sea. It was a great view. The drive would have been a lot more interesting if it had been narrated. The driver was supposed to tell us where we were, but he only did so when someone asked, and then his voice was so soft it couldn't be heard beyond the third row. I was very glad I'd taken my map with me. Without it, I wouldn't have had the remotest idea where we were. Went to Manzanilla Point and down the coast to Mayaro Point. What a lovely view! The ocean, with surf rolling in, was on our left and coconut palms on our right. There were a great many abandoned houses along the coast, and we wondered about them. Later, the driver told us that they had been resort houses, but when the oil platforms were built, a lot of oil leaked into the water and ruined the beach. What a shame! Then a hurricane blew all the roofs off the houses, so they were abandoned. It was one o'clock when we arrived at Mayaro, and we were hungry. The driver stopped in front of the Waterfront Restaurant. We took one look at the place and knew we weren't about to eat there. Maybe gringos are too fussy, but we want to stay healthy. After some discussion, the driver said he'd take us to a KFC, about 15 kilometers from there. He went back the way we'd come, which was disappointing; we'd been hoping to see something new. Instead of going to KFC, the driver stopped at a Royal Castle in Sangre Grande. At least it had clean restrooms, but that's about all it had. The menu consisted of hot dogs and "Veggie Burgers", whatever they are. Roy and I each ordered one. They turned out to be thin, crisp, fried patties of unknown ingredients on buns with lettuce and tomato slices. There was also a sauce that was too spicy for my taste. I was hungry enough to eat it, but I certainly didn't enjoy it. They didn't have anything decent to drink, so we had water. They didn't even have anything for dessert. We wandered around town, trying to find candy bars, but all the stores were closed. We finally bought some sorry cookies from some outdoor vendors. To make up for the lunch, the driver offered to take us to the waterfall. We were all eager for that. He drove up into the mountains. The narrow paved road turned to dirt and eventually ended altogether. We had to walk about half a mile up a trail to get to the falls, but they were worth it. They fell straight down in a mist from quite a height. There was a lovely rainbow. Reminded us of Bridal Veil. Nearly everyone but us had brought swimsuits, so they were able to go under the falls. We hadn't known there'd be an opportunity to get wet. Maybe that was announced yesterday when we were at the market. I waded fairly close to the falls anyway, so I could enjoy the refreshing spray without actually getting wet. On the way back, the bus konked out. For a while we thought we might have to push it, but eventually the driver got it going again. The sun was setting by the time we got near Peake's. The bus went all the way to the end of the road to drop a couple of people off, so we got to see what's out there. Were surprised to see a number of shops and some sort of hotel.

Saturday, November 18, 1995 - Trinidad

This was the morning for our trip to the Central Market. Got up at five, ate breakfast, and reached the bus at exactly 6:30. Eleven of us went. The Central Market was huge. It covered at least one entire city block, maybe two. There were some buildings with stalls for the meat, fish, and poultry vendors, but the produce vendors were outside. They had their fruits and vegetables in big piles. There were hundreds of vendors and thousands of customers. The place was so crowded, we had a hard time pushing our way through the throng, but eventually we reached the far end, turned around, and started back. Then the sun was behind us instead of shining directly into our eyes, so we could see and were able to start buying. Nearly everything was farm fresh and looked the way fruits and vegetables should look. We bought potatoes, onions, cabbage, cauliflower, cucumbers, string beans, corn, apples, papayas, and what Roy thought were large oranges, which turned out to be grapefruit. The vendors weighed everything in old, old scales, the kind that use lead weights of specific sizes. You couldn't buy just any old quantity; you had to buy the quantity that matched one or a combination of weights. There were mountains of eggs. Never saw so many eggs at one time in my entire life, but I hadn't brought my plastic egg holder, because I hadn't known there'd be eggs at the market. They weren't in cartons; they were on flats, so I didn't buy any. On the way back to Peake's, we stopped at HiLo, so I bought a dozen eggs there as well as chicken and candy. Finally found gum drops for the first time since we've been in Trinidad. Also found those yummy coconut drops that I loved as a kid and rarely see any more. Took everything back to the boat and put it away. Then I went back downtown to try to get a replacement for our hand-held vacuum cleaner that had finally given up the ghost. Waited in front of the chandlery for the 10:30 free bus, but it didn't show up, so I began thinking maybe it didn't run on Saturday. Another woman had her hand- held VHF with her, so she called the office. Sure enough, no free buses on Saturday, so we began walking towards the bus stop on the highway. We were about a hundred yards from it when the blue bus pulled up. I started running, not really thinking I'd be able to catch it. Running has never been my forte. Even as a kid, I never liked to run. I haven't run so far or so fast in years. Luckily, someone else was also running for the bus. By the time he got there and got on it, I was to the highway. There was no traffic, so I sprinted across. The driver was nice enough to wait, so I hopped on and sat down. The bus went right to the new City Gate bus terminal, which just opened today, so I spent some time walking around, looking it over. It's the best bus terminal I've ever seen anywhere. It's spacious, airy, and well-planned. Buses are easy to find. The waiting room has benches for a thousand people or more, and even has television to watch while you wait. There's an ATM, a ticket counter, and an infor- mation booth. The employees are very courteous and nice. It's certainly a lot more convenient having all the buses at one central location instead of having to walk all over downtown looking for the one you want. I found out there's a bus that goes directly to the airport, so I'll check it out next week. Walked down Independence Square, which isn't a square at all but a boulevard. The woman at Ace had told me Scott's is just past the cathedral. That made it easy to find, but I was surprised to see that it was in a poor part of town. Hopeless derelicts were sleeping on the sidewalk or congregated in a small park. The building Scott's was in looked nice, though, and wasn't far, so I zoomed over to it. I've never seen a hardware store quite like it. There were three floors, and they had just about anything you could possibly want in the hardware line. They had all the well-known brands, such as Makita, Eureka, and Coleman. You couldn't wander around browsing, however; nearly everything was behind the counter. They were very security conscious. To even get into the place, you had to check in at the front desk, flanked by security guards. I told the man at the desk that I wanted a hand-held vacuum cleaner. He told me to go to the second floor, so I started up the stairs, forgetting that the second floor is the third floor. Life is confusing in this country. The clerk on what I thought was the second floor sent me up to the next floor. They didn't have Dirt Devil, but they had what appeared to be a super nice Eureka hand-held vacuum cleaner. It was expensive, but I bought it anyway. Unfortunately, I forgot to buy a hose for it. Ate lunch at a combination Pizza Hut and Kentucky Fried Chicken. Had a cute little pizza that was about five inches in diameter, but it wasn't very good. It was mostly biscuit, with a thin coating of cheese, pineapple, and green pepper. Couldn't even begin to compare with the pizza we'd had at Pizza Boys. The place was packed, though. I had asked for a chocolate shake. The clerk said they didn't have chocolate, but they had strawberry. I said, "OK, strawberry." She brought me vanilla. That was all they had. Got 1600 TT's from an ATM and went back to the boat. The first thing Roy said when I proudly showed him the new vacuum was, "Where's the hose?" Terrific. I phoned Scott's to see if they carried hoses, but apparently they close at noon on Saturday, so it will have to wait until Monday. Phoned Kathy and told her I was coming to California for a visit in December and January. She was glad to hear it and said she'd pick me up at the airport. She also said I could sleep on her living-room floor for a couple of nights until I find a place. Roy hadn't had lunch. When I said, "Pizza," his eyes lit up. He wanted to go to Pizza Boys, and he wanted me to go with him, so we took a maxi down there. He ended up eating a fish sandwich, because he was too hungry to wait for a pizza. He also had two scoops of cherry ice cream, and I had one scoop. When we left Pizza Boys, large splats of soft rain began hitting us. Luckily, a route taxi came along just then, so we hopped into it. Had an interesting ride up a side-street. Got back to the boat just in time to close the hatches and portholes before the deluge hit. Filled the water tank and all the plastic jugs and had plenty of rain left over.

Friday, November 17, 1995 - Trinidad

Finally a day without rain, so I was able to varnish the toerail. Sure glad to get that done. The stuff I put on the chigger bites hasn't helped much so far. Maybe they're not chigger bites. If I still have them when I get to California, I'll go to Kaiser and find out what they are. Went to the travel agency to see if she'd gotten the information I wanted. She just doesn't seem to comprehend that I'd like to have as much information as possible, so I can make an informed choice. Instead, she gives me one fare, and then when I ask for another, she's surprised. "Oh, you want..." I've tried to explain over and over that I want them all, but she just doesn't get it. Here's a sample of Trinidadian "English": "Oh gor Mr. Humphrey, how yuh could rags up people so? All yuh now take de platform yuh done white a'ready, people watchin yuh an is a set a stupidness yuh go talk? Fus ah shame." No wonder we can't understand what people are saying -- we can't even understand what they write! Our Dirt-Devil vacuum cleaner has quit, so I went down to Ace Hardware to see if I could get another, but they didn't have what we wanted. They said I could probably get one at William Scott on Independence Square, so I'll try there tomorrow. Paddled over to Malu to return the ticket, but no one was home. Continued another two or three miles along the coast. Passed a boat storage yard, a beach, a bunch of old buildings, and the Coast Guard. A guy in uniform was standing on the end of the dock, holding a rifle. I waved and he waved back, but I stayed well clear anyway. When I got to the point, three guys were fishing on an old dock. Two of them looked like soldiers. They were wearing camouflage pants and had guns. One of them called to me and asked where I had come from. I said, "Peake's," and he said, "All right." I don't know what difference it made where I was from, but I'm glad it was all right.

Thursday, November 16, 1995 - Trinidad

Day of adventure! I rode the 8:30 bus downtown to get my reciprocal ham license. (You have to get one for each country you go to if you want to transmit.) I might never use it, but it was an interesting experience getting it. Walked down Abercromby Street, looking for number 17. By chance, my eye just happened to alight on a small painted sign on the side of a building. It said "Telecommunica- tions" and pointed down a short, dark alley. I walked to the end of the alley and came to a glass door that also said "Telecommunications" so I went through it and climbed four flights of stairs. (Trinidad is like Europe in that it considers the second floor to be the first floor, etc., so the third floor is what we would consider the fourth floor.) Came to another glass door, but this one didn't have anything written on it. Went in and told the man at the desk I was looking for Telecommunications. He said I'd come to the right place. When I told him I wanted to apply for a reciprocal amateur radio license, he pointed to the man at the next desk and said to see him. That gentleman was reading the morning paper and seemed totally nonplused when I asked for a reciprocal license and handed him my documents. He studied them for five or ten minutes and then left. Twenty or so minutes later, he returned with an application form for me to fill out. I did so and handed it to him. He took it to his secretary to have her type something up. I might mention that everything he did was with the greatest slowness and deliberation, so that this entire process took at least ten times as long as it should have, but he was pleasant enough once he got over his initial shock. In due course of time, the secretary brought in the paper she had typed. He studied it carefully for several minutes, signed it, and gave it back to the secretary to make a couple of copies. This done, he folded the original, put it in an envelope, and told me to take it to Excise and Wireless in the Customs building on the corner across the street. I thanked him and walked back down the four flights of stairs. When I got to the Customs building, I showed the envelope to the man at the front desk and told him I needed to go to Excise and Wireless. He said it was on the fourth floor. Since that would be the fifth by U.S. standards, I was glad there was an elevator. But when I got off at the fourth floor, the woman at the desk said that was the wrong floor. She thought Excise and Wireless might be on the second floor. Rather than wait for the elevator, I walked down. On the way, I met a man in uniform who knew where the place was and took me right there. I had to walk through a large room that had piles of cardboard cartons stacked in it. The Supervisor of Excise and Wireless was very nice. She was also efficient. She gave me a form to take down to the cashier on the first floor. I went down there, paid 14.40 TT's, and returned to the second floor. The supervisor promptly gave me my reciprocal license. Mission accomplished. My next project was to go out to the airport. I walked around looking for a maxi that might go there. Asked several people, but no one knew. Finally a came to a street that was full of red-and-white maxis. I never saw so many minibuses in one place in my life. There were three lines of them stretching the entire length of the block. There must have been more than a hundred. I went up to a man in uniform who appeared to be a dispatcher. Now if anyone should know which bus to take to get to the airport it's the dispatcher for the bus company, right? Wrong. He walked over to a bus and asked the driver. The driver told him something in Triniglish. The dispatcher told me to follow him and started walking along the line of buses. Suddenly, a woman came running up. I don't know if she was a driver or what, but she was very nice and knew where to go, so she took over from the dispatcher. She led me to the corner and down a block. Then she hailed a maxi, told the driver where I wanted to go, and told me the bus would take me to Arouca, where I could catch a taxi to the airport. I thanked her and got in. To my surprise, the surrounding towns turned out to be part of a megalopolis. We went from town to town without a break in between; I couldn't tell where one town ended and the next began. Passengers kept getting on and off, and the driver forgot about me. When we got to Arouca, we crossed a wide, busy street that I figured was the road to the airport. Sure enough, a few minutes later, the driver noticed me and asked where I was going. When I told him the airport, he realized he'd gone too far, so I got a free ride to Arima and back to Arouca. At the busy road, he pointed to a white cab and said to take it. The fare from Port-of-Spain to Arouca was only 3.50 TT's. From there to the airport was another 2 TT's. This airport, this international airport, has to be seen to be believed. The Mexican airports were twenty-first century by comparison. This airport looked as if it had been a cow pasture that someone had laid a strip of concrete on and thrown up a few buildings. The hangars looked like barns with pointed roofs. There was a Kentucky Fried Chicken stand, an ice cream stand, and several shops. I no sooner got out of the taxi than the waiting taxi drivers asked me if I wanted a taxi! Since only two airlines come in here, it was very easy to find American. (The other is BWIA, which I think stands for British West Indies Airlines.) There was only one clerk at the desk, so I asked him if I could get the ticket reissued in my name, but he said it couldn't be done. The ticket could be used only by the person it was issued to; otherwise, it was totally worthless. That was really disappointing. I sure would have liked to use that ticket. What a bargain that would have been -- all the way to Denver for $100! I wandered around for a while, looking the place over. Saw two drinking fountains, but neither one squirted more than an eighth of an inch, so I gave up and bought a cup of ice cream instead. It was delicious and quenched my thirst for a while. When I looked as if I was ready to leave, the taxi drivers leaped up again. These were private taxis, and the drivers wanted $20 U.S. or 116 TT's to take me to Port-of-Spain! I told them I'd only paid 5.50 TT's to get there, and I'd go back the same way. Then they showed me a route taxi, so I took it to Arouca for 2 TT's. Only waited a couple of minutes for a maxi back to Port-of-Spain. On the way back to Peake's, I got out at West Mall to buy a few groceries. Also bought a tube of Gamma Benzene Hexachloride at the drugstore. That's supposed to zap chiggers and similar beasties. In the U.S., it can be bought by prescription only, but here I had no problem buying it over the counter. When I got back to the boat, Roy was feeling some better. He had gone over to the IMS boatyard and liked it a lot better than Peake's. We walked over there together so he could buy a board at the carpentry shop. He also wanted me to see the yard, but I told him I didn't care where he hauled out, because I'm going to California for two months. He bought a six-foot board of nice mahogany to repair the mizzen mast.

Wednesday, November 15, 1995 - Trinidad

Did the laundry at six o'clock in the morning. Even at that hour, there was someone else wanting to use a washer. They have good Maytag washers and dryers here, but only two of each. Since there are scores of liveaboards here and the maids also use the washers and dryers to wash the restaurant and apartment linens, there's usually a long line. I thought if I got there early enough, I'd beat the crowd, and I did, but only by minutes. Anyway, I managed to get three loads washed and dried, so now all our clothes are clean, thank goodness. Walked over to Immigration to see if using someone else's ticket would be a problem. It would be. Went down to the American Airlines office in Port-of-Spain to see if they could change it to my name, but they couldn't. I'd sure like to be able to buy that ticket to Denver for only $100, but I don't want to end up in jail or having to pay a big fine. Tomorrow I'll go out to the airport to see if anything can be done there. Filled out the contract for tying to the dock and paid a week's rent. It's only $49 a week, including electricity. Roy has a sore throat and feels crummy. He slept a lot and started feeling some better towards evening. My bites are itching a lot less. Someone told me it would take a month for them to go away!

Tuesday, November 14, 1995 - Trinidad

On the net this morning, I asked if anyone else who went on the tour Saturday had broken out with itchy spots. Someone came on and said they were chigger bites, that practically everyone who goes to Asa Wright gets chewed up by chiggers. I thought they looked like chigger bites and itched like chigger bites, but I was confused by their being on my midriff instead of my ankles and lower legs. It's good to know that's all they are. Robin on Malu is organizing another tour for this Sunday, so we signed up for it. It will be to the Eastern side of the island. She also has a one-way American Airlines ticket to Denver for sale for only $100. Since I'm thinking of going to California for a visit, that would be a real deal. I let her know I was interested. She was looking for some plastic slides. Roy had a bunch, so she said she'd be over after the net. Also on the net, there was an announcement of a trip to the Central Market this Saturday at 6:30. It's only 10 TT's round-trip, so we signed up for it. Lisa and Arlie came by to collect the money and give us our tickets. Robin came by and was delighted to get the slides she needed. She showed me the ticket to Denver. Unfortunately, it has someone else's name on it. This could cause a problem with Immigration, so I'm going to check with them before I buy it. Jalanath got hauled this morning, so we went into her spot. Got there just in time. Moments later, a sudden squall came up. There aren't any finger docks here; we're tied bow-to. It's good to be at a dock again, but getting on and off the boat is sort of tricky. Roy has connected the two planks and tied them so the end of one sticks out over the dock. We have to walk the plank to get off the boat. Or back on. It's easy at low tide, when the plank is only a couple of feet above the dock, but at high tide the plank might be five feet above the dock. In the afternoon, I went to the American Airlines office in Port of Spain to see if they'd change the name on the ticket, but they refused. They said it was non-transferable. Went out to Long Circular Mall and was really impressed. It's a lot larger than West Mall. The TruValue Supermarket there is clean and bright and attractive. Looks like a U.S. supermarket. It has just about everything under the sun except what I want. I thought there'd be lots of maxis going to the mall, but I didn't see any when I was ready to leave. I asked a well-dressed young woman who looked as if she were waiting for a bus where the bus stop was. She said the buses didn't come there, that I'd have to go down to the main road to catch one. Then she said her boyfriend would be there in a couple of minutes with his car and he'd give me a ride down to the main road. She was as nice as could be. Sure enough, in a couple of minutes, her boyfriend arrived and dropped me off on the main road where lots of maxis were going by. I soon caught one.

Monday, November 13, 1995 - Trinidad

Itching not as bad as yesterday, but still annoying. Put more stuff on the bites. I hope they're bites. Maybe I'm allergic to some plant I came into contact with in the rain forest and broke out in a rash. But it's strange that most of it is in the middle part of my body, which was totally covered. There's none on my legs and arms. Maybe I'm allergic to something in the lunch we ate at the center. I know there were foods and spices I've never ingested before. Yesterday, I transposed two digits of the P.O. Box number I left for Steve, so this morning I bought a 60 TT card at Powerboats and phoned Steve. Luckily, he was home, so I gave him the correct number. For three or four days, I've been trying to varnish the toerails that I sanded a few days ago, but it always rains just enough to keep me from doing it. Happened again today. Tim and Viv's boat, Jalanath, was supposed to be hauled this afternoon, but it's been postponed until tomorrow. As soon as they haul out, we'll move into their space at the dock.

Sunday, November 12, 1995 - Trinidad

Some kind of bug must have bitten me in the rain forest; I'm covered with bites. They don't look like mosquito bites; they look like chigger bites. Maybe they're ant bites. Or termites. Whatever, they itch like crazy. I've been putting Alcolado Glacial and Hydro- cortisone on them. Both stop the itching for a while. Went to Hi Lo and bought some chicken, bread, and oranges. The bus driver scared me half to death by READING while driving at high speed on this curving road. I thought he was going to crash into the rear of a car in front of us, but fortunately he looked up in time. After lunch, we paddled in to try to figure out how to phone the U.S. on these crazy phones. There doesn't seem to be any way to use our calling card. We can't even phone the operator to find out how to make the calls; when I dial the number shown in the phone book for calling the overseas operator, all I get is the message: "Barred call." Ridiculous. The only thing that works is using a prepaid card. I had bought 40 TT's worth of cards, but that's only enough for six minutes. Phoned Steve and left a message on his machine. Reached Kathy, but the card ran out before I was through talking with her. At least, I got most of the information I had phoned for. Roy returned to the boat, but I paddled around. Had a very interesting time. Talked with an English couple who have been here three years. Finally got the scoop on the local language. In addition to English, the people speak a French patois. No wonder we couldn't understand it! It's probably similar to the Creole language in Louisiana. Back in slavery days, there were a lot of French plantation owners here, so the slaves picked up a garbled version of French, and that's been handed down along with the official English. Even well-educated people who speak flawless English use the patois when they're talking to each other. So that explains it.