This was another day that started by me somehow managing to wake up at 8:00 AM without an alarm or any form of prompting. While I wouldn’t have minded waking up a bit earlier, I can’t really complain as I still had plenty of time to accomplish what I needed to accomplish before my father’s return.
Much of what I needed, or more aptly, wanted, to accomplish related to internet-based activities. These were out of the way, along with breakfast, by 10:00 AM. I was then able to move onto the important realm of recreational reading.
This is an area in which I hoped to excel during this trip, but much to my disappointment I have been no better than mediocre. Instead of spending each morning reading I am putting in an hour or so at the most, and spending the rest of my time surfing the web and taking photos of the lagoon (which I then delete). Fortunately, I was able to read (and enjoy) the George Saunders collection of short stories that I brought down.
I can’t say as much about a book that Steven gave me. As much as I try, “Me, Natalie” just doesn’t seem to be working for me. Actually, the only redeeming aspect of the book, the main character’s frequently witty one-liners, seems to have faded into a sea of self-pity and self-loathing. If I manage to make my way through this book it will only be as a favour to Steven so that he won’t have to.
More fortunately, I have managed to make my way back to Mr. Waugh and his Men at Arms. Just today I was able to knock off a good 50 or so pages. With a few more hours of reading I should be able to kill it off and move on to Put Out More Flags.
At least this last goal is in sight, some of the goals I came here with seem to have stayed on the plane and returned to wherever it is they came from. The three or four other books that I transported almost three thousand miles will likely remain largely untouched, eventually heading back to Montreal in the same shopping bags that transported them so far south. I guess I could at least do them the courtesy of carrying them out to the balcony so that they could get a blast of fresh Caribbean air.
Eventually the reading progress that I mentioned earlier came to a halt and I switched my attentions to the pressing need of completing as many games of solitaire as possible while in a Caribbean island. Fortunately, I have been much better at this task than reading. In each of the past few days I have been able to deal a dozen or so games a day. Of course many are loses, but this doesn’t really matter as both wins and loses still go towards my total number of games played.
After consuming a sandwich, and playing a few more games of solitaire, my father returned from work so that we could head back to Orient Beach to try our catamaran lesson again. As he was earlier than expected we decided to try to hit the mail a few post cards on the way.
This last task has been surprisingly troublesome. Our several visits to the French post office have been thwarted by our not having Euros, while our attempts mail the cards from the Dutch side have been dashed by the very limited opening hours of the post office.
This seemed like, and was, our chance actually head through Simpson Bay at a time when the post office was actually open. Soon after arriving it was our turn to transact our business with the clerk. My father then explained that we would like to send six postcards and buy stamps for two more.
It turned out that this particular post office happened to be out of stamps, and was instead using stickers that showed how much postage had been paid. This was somewhat frustrating as part of the reason for sending the cards from the Dutch side was to include the supposedly colourful and exuberant stamps of Sint Maarten. I guess this will have to wait for another visit, or a trip to the main post office in Philipsburg (which isn’t very likely).
After our pseudo-success at the post office we continued on to Orient Beach. After parking we made our way to the restaurant with the Newfoundland flag. For lunch my father had the French dip sandwich while I had a burger and fries. As far as I know he was satisfied with his meal, I know that I was satisfied with mine. One of the particularly pleasing aspects of the meal (and something that we learned the last time that we were in this establishment) is that their iced tea is real and served without sugar.
Soon after we finished eating we made our way back down the beach (away from the nude section) towards the sailing facility. Soon after arriving and slathering ourselves in sunscreen Yvon was ready to take us out.
This time I took charge of the craft. While things worked out relatively well we were definitely having a few problems with our 90-degree turns. As much as Yvon explained things we didn’t seem to quite have it down. Part of the problem, though this may be unlikely, was that I might have been focusing on handling the rough water more than on appropriate turning protocol. Not only did I have to deal with actual (though small) white caps, the swells did cause sizeable sections of the catamaran to be lifted from the water.
Eventually my father and I switched positions, with similar results (though this was less stressful to me as I was no longer the one reading the wind incorrectly or steering in the completing the steps of the turn in the wrong order).
Eventually, after a number of ineffective turns on each of our parts, Yvon took the tiller and showed us what he meant for us to be doing. Immediately, we both saw that when he ‘released’ the line he didn’t do it all at one as we had, but rather it was done gradually to always catch the wind, like the release of the clutch when starting from a standstill.
Though it is likely that we didn’t perfect our turns into our against the wind, it is likely that we would do a better job the next time we go out, and we would certainly have a better idea of what it is that we are trying to accomplish.
Unfortunately, this realization was only grasped as we were preparing to end our lesson, but at least it was grasped. We then made for shore, eventually beaching the boat just below the operation’s building. The three of us then hauled the catamaran from the surf to a section of the beach well beyond the reach of even rogue waves.
After dropping off our life jackets and gather our belongings we again headed out from Orient Beach, this time possibly for the last time. Amazingly, in the three or so times we have visited the beach neither of us has had the opportunity to be completely submerged in the water or even to get our hair wet (which is nice as it means that it isn’t covered in salt when we return home).
Once back in Maho we again hit the store for dinner supplies. This time, as they were out of the cheap beef we both like so much, we went for (very reasonably priced) chicken breasts. Much to my father’s chagrin they were still out of lactose free milk. We also picked up two ginseng pops as well as a watermelon soda (for my father).
Soon after returning home, but not before starting another load of laundry, we started cooking dinner. As everything was pretty simple and straightforward, this wasn’t a complicated process. At the pre-arranged time I turned on a few burners, and eventually the broiler and microwave. As usual the meals were served near the stove to save on serving dishes, which is particularly acceptable, as we don’t tend to have leftovers that might be stored in such dishes.
Soon after my father transferred the laundry from the washer to the drier we were ready to eat. Both of us enjoyed our relatively low fat meal of rice, carrots, brocoflower, and chicken. Also, both of us managed to maintain our memberships in the ‘Clean Plate Club,’ thus negating the need for another trip to the post office to send our food scraps to some more needy locale.
After the laundry had been dried and folded (and a Skype called to Newfoundland attempted) my father headed back to work to continue working on upcoming lectures. I stayed in the apartment without any pre-defined plans. As I am a resourceful guy I was able to find a few things to do with my time, many of which involved reading of one sort or another (though not necessarily of books or other worthwhile materials).
One of the non-reading related activities was to mix beer and crème de cassis to create a drink that would hopefully be reminiscent of similar drinks that I consumed while in the UK. The first combination I tried was a Presidente with a little of the stuff. Much to my surprise, the drink wasn’t all that bad. Later in the evening I tried a similar mix, this time with Carib as the beer. What soon became apparent was that this was a pretty potent mix (mores o than when one is just using blackcurrant cordial).
Showing posts with label Sailing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sailing. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
Sint Maarten: Day 9
We awoke early this morning to have a quick breakfast before heading out to Orient Beach, where we hoped to get a lesson on how to sail a small catamaran.
As the sky looked a little clearer than it has for the past few days, we decided to stop by Pic Paradis on the way. While things were slightly more visible, Anguilla and the distant parts of the island weren’t as visible as we hoped. On this trip we also made our way a little further from the main look out, something that allowed us to see much of the land surrounding the lagoon as well as the Orient Beach area. The other notable feature of this trip was the number of lizards that we saw as we were walking out and back. Unlike previous trips we have taken on the island, we saw all kinds of different patterns and colorations within a short distance. Typically we see only one or two types of lizards on a given trip.
Once we reached Orient Beach we learned that the company from whom we had hoped to receive a lesson were book until the afternoon. We arranged to return for an appointment later in the day and left a deposit. The modified plan was to return for a lesson from 3:00 PM – 4:00 PM and sail by ourselves from 4:00 PM – 5:00 PM.
After we completed our booking obligations we started to make our way back to the university so that my father could put a few hours in on his lectures.
Somehow in Marigot we became slightly turned around and ended up taking a road we had not yet taken. This road went south from Marigot and spit us out between Simpson Bay and Philipsburg. As we were making our way from the new road to the road to our residence we had to take several backstreets. While driving down one of these streets we saw an iguana sized and styled lizards dart in front of our car and across the road. This confirmed for us that larger lizards do exist on the island, but just aren’t as prevalent as the much smaller ones.
On this trip we also ended up behind a large tour bus for a period of time. While this normally wouldn’t be too much of a problem, in this case the bus was so large it blocked our view of the road completely. Also, while we were climbing a steep hill the bus stalled, at first stopping, and then starting to roll down the hill towards us. While under many circumstances this would be an undesirable situation, but not one that was insurmountable, the presence of a van behind us added to the level of stress. It seems that the van didn’t understand that the bus was rolling back down the hill, forcing us to back up. The result was that we were stuck between two much larger vehicles, one that was somewhat out of control, and one that didn’t grasp the severity of the situation.
Once we finally made it back to Cupecoy and the university my father went into the university to work while I was tasked with acquiring food for lunch. I first made a trip to a newly opened store that is just up the hill from our apartment. The problem with this store, as I was to find out, is that much of the food is of the prepared variety, elevating the prices beyond what I was interested in paying.
This state of affairs meant that I would have to head into Maho to visit the larger grocery store. As I was planning on buying some beer and considering our schedule, this meant that I would be driving in. So for the first time outside of Canada or the US I put a key in the ignition and started the car.
One of the immediately noticeable features of driving in Sint Maarten is the frequency with which one encounters speed bumps, many of which are not clearly marked. As I have been a passenger in a car here this wasn’t too much of a problem.
The other feature that sets this island apart from much of North America is the use of the traffic circle, or roundabout. I was able to successfully negotiate one at the intersection in front of the grocery store. Though it seemed straightforward enough, I am sure adding traffic to the mix might leave me with a different impression.
The shopping trip was quick and painless. I was able to quickly locate everything that I planned on purchasing and return to the apartment in a few minutes. Much to my surprise, the trip back was as painless as the trip out, which is nice as driving isn’t my favourite activity.
Upon returning to the apartment I prepared myself one of the chicken breasts that I had just purchased. Once I had finished lunch I spent a little time on my computer.
Just before 2:00 PM my father returned from work to have lunch before our return journey to Orient Beach. This was a pleasant surprise as I expected to meet him about twenty minutes later at the car with sandwiches for him to eat along the way.
We were soon on the road again, making our way back to the other side of the island. It soon became clear that we were making good time and on course to arrive at the sailing place early. Soon after arriving at the beach we noticed that there were many more cars than when we left. People had started parking in just about any and all available places large enough to fit a car. As we were cruising through the first parking lot we were lucky enough to find the a proper parking spot near to the pathway to the beach.
Shortly after the car had been parked and our belongings appropriately accommodated, we started to walk down the beach towards the facility. Immediately it became apparent that the cars we had seen in the parking lot were associated with additional beach-goers. The place was much busier than we had seen it on either of our two earlier trips (both of which had been earlier in the day).
Once we reached the sailing facility we found a staff member to alert him of our presence. He was able to tell us that we would likely be a few minutes late because Yvon, our scheduled instructor, had started his last lesson several minutes late.
While waiting we, but mainly my father, spoke to the guy manning the facility while the other employees were giving lessons and supervising activities. He was from the Marseilles region and had spent a few months living in Sarnia and working at a Bank of Montreal branch to improve his English (which was pretty good). I get the sense that he was much more enamored with the local climate that that which he would have encountered in Sarnia. This guy, who’s name I don’t know, also told us that Yvon, from Breton, had only arrived from France two weeks ago.
Eventually, after several other arrivals and departures, Yvon showed up and we were ready to go. He took us to the boat and showed us the various key components. We then launched the boat, each of us hopping in from the water. Apparently my father had been able to hop in from water only knee keep while I hopped aboard from water that was up to my chest (this is not to suggest that I am more manly, but to show that the water became much deeper with the length of the boat).
Once we were on the water Yvon gave us directions as to how we should set the sails and how to perform different turns. While this process would have likely been marginally improved if his English had been better, I think we were both able to understand his instructions fairly clearly.
After a few practice turns and maneuvers we started just sailing around the bay. As we were heading towards the northern section of the beach we all heard a snap and then saw the jib fall into the ocean. Moments later, almost in slow motion, the mast began to fall from the center of the boat towards the back. As mast hit the water and frame of the boat it snapped out of the pin device holding it to the boat. While my father and I were wondering if we might be able to put the mast back up Yvon had located the broken part and realized that such a feat would be impossible. And though we didn’t know what he was doing at the time, he also tried to remove the sail from the mast so that it couldn’t catch the wind.
Within a few minutes of our mishap we managed to wave down a jet-ski rider and ask him to notify the company about our predicament. As much as I would like to think that he told someone, I really doubt it. Several minutes later another individual on a jet ski stopped by, clearly offering to let someone know. We could see this guy go to the right place and let Yvon’s co-worker know about our situation.
Shortly after the second jet ski stopped by we could see that one of the company’s inflatables was heading towards us. After a somewhat heated and abrupt exchange in French that was too fast for my father or I to catch, the boat returned to its original posting. Yvon then explained that he was unable to tow us as he was supervising a group of windsurfers (who were pretty far away from land). He also explained that another boat would be sent to assist us.
A few minutes later the second boat arrived, and the first boat returned. The three company employees seemed to be discussing what happened and what should have been done given the situation. The guy in charge of the first boat, and the one that seemed to be senior, seemed to be displeased that Yvon hadn’t taken in the sail and done a better job of arranging things. The three of us on the catamaran then tried to remove the sail from the mast and had about as much luck as Yvon had had previously by himself. It was pretty clear that the sail wasn’t going to go anywhere while we were still at sea.
The first boat again departed while the second boat was arranging a towline with Yvon. We were then transferred to the inflatable while Yvon stayed on the catamaran to ensure that the mast and sail weren’t blown into the water. When we started heading back to shore Yvon was on the sail, a position that soon displayed its weakness as wind caught the sail and toyed with Yvon. We stopped and allowed Yvon to insert himself under the sail at the front of the craft.
The two problems, both relatively minor, of the towing were that the mast was not attached to the boat and was dragging, requiring Yvon to hold the mast in place for the duration of the trip, and that the dual rudders had been pushed to an extreme position by the fallen mast.
Soon enough we were back at the beach. My father and I hopped out of the inflatable and made our way over to help Yvon beach the disabled boat. This time both of us were chest high in water as we pulled the boat ashore. Once ashore the three of us pulled the boat onto the beach so that it would be out of the way and unable to drift out.
Shortly after we had returned ashore we made our way back to the building to collect our belongings and return our life jackets. While there we arranged to go out again (for no additional charge) on Tuesday at 3:30. Hopefully we won’t have a similar problem the next time we go out (but it should be noted that two out of the four times my father has been in sailboats using wind power the masts have gone down, so we have a good chance of having another such mishap).
As we walked back to our car it was quite nice to realize that we had had a seawater experience and managed not to have sand in every available location on our body. In particular, not having sand in my hair and ears was quite nice, giving me a new appreciation of why people might engage in wind related activities rather than surf related activities.
While making our way back home we decided to stop at a store on the French side to pick up some ‘Beurre de France,’ which we had been told is more flavourful than typical butter. Though the store had only a few varieties of French butter it did take us some number of minutes to make our selection (the main determinants of which were salt content and price).
We also stopped at a grocery store on the Dutch side to pick up some steak for dinner. While in the grocery store I happened to see that they sold yucca root (also know as cassava). We decided to buy a piece as we had both had a positive reaction to it when we had consumed it a few nights ago.
Soon after we returned home my father went online to find out how to cook yucca root. Once he found a relatively simple recipe that basically involved boiling and then seasoning I started to prepare dinner. The most laborious and time-consuming aspect of which was the peeling, chopping, and boiling of the yucca root (which should suggest that it wasn’t a particularly trying meal). While I was taking care of the food my father was working on some laundry.
Just as my father was transferring the laundry from the washer to the drier I was serving our food. Moments after I finished this process he returned and we were able to eat.
Again, as we had carrots and green beans to accompany our yucca root and steaks, my grandmother would have been pleased with the variety of colours on our plates. To our pleasant surprise the yucca root turned out quite well. When we have it again the only modification to my preparation will be to ensure a more uniform size of the pieces before they are boiled.
After a brief stint on our balcony we went both went to bed well before 10:00 PM, and possibly even before 9:00 PM (something I don’t know as I don’t have a clock in my room). It seems being adrift in the Caribbean Sea for a half hour really tired us out.
As the sky looked a little clearer than it has for the past few days, we decided to stop by Pic Paradis on the way. While things were slightly more visible, Anguilla and the distant parts of the island weren’t as visible as we hoped. On this trip we also made our way a little further from the main look out, something that allowed us to see much of the land surrounding the lagoon as well as the Orient Beach area. The other notable feature of this trip was the number of lizards that we saw as we were walking out and back. Unlike previous trips we have taken on the island, we saw all kinds of different patterns and colorations within a short distance. Typically we see only one or two types of lizards on a given trip.
Once we reached Orient Beach we learned that the company from whom we had hoped to receive a lesson were book until the afternoon. We arranged to return for an appointment later in the day and left a deposit. The modified plan was to return for a lesson from 3:00 PM – 4:00 PM and sail by ourselves from 4:00 PM – 5:00 PM.
After we completed our booking obligations we started to make our way back to the university so that my father could put a few hours in on his lectures.
Somehow in Marigot we became slightly turned around and ended up taking a road we had not yet taken. This road went south from Marigot and spit us out between Simpson Bay and Philipsburg. As we were making our way from the new road to the road to our residence we had to take several backstreets. While driving down one of these streets we saw an iguana sized and styled lizards dart in front of our car and across the road. This confirmed for us that larger lizards do exist on the island, but just aren’t as prevalent as the much smaller ones.
On this trip we also ended up behind a large tour bus for a period of time. While this normally wouldn’t be too much of a problem, in this case the bus was so large it blocked our view of the road completely. Also, while we were climbing a steep hill the bus stalled, at first stopping, and then starting to roll down the hill towards us. While under many circumstances this would be an undesirable situation, but not one that was insurmountable, the presence of a van behind us added to the level of stress. It seems that the van didn’t understand that the bus was rolling back down the hill, forcing us to back up. The result was that we were stuck between two much larger vehicles, one that was somewhat out of control, and one that didn’t grasp the severity of the situation.
Once we finally made it back to Cupecoy and the university my father went into the university to work while I was tasked with acquiring food for lunch. I first made a trip to a newly opened store that is just up the hill from our apartment. The problem with this store, as I was to find out, is that much of the food is of the prepared variety, elevating the prices beyond what I was interested in paying.
This state of affairs meant that I would have to head into Maho to visit the larger grocery store. As I was planning on buying some beer and considering our schedule, this meant that I would be driving in. So for the first time outside of Canada or the US I put a key in the ignition and started the car.
One of the immediately noticeable features of driving in Sint Maarten is the frequency with which one encounters speed bumps, many of which are not clearly marked. As I have been a passenger in a car here this wasn’t too much of a problem.
The other feature that sets this island apart from much of North America is the use of the traffic circle, or roundabout. I was able to successfully negotiate one at the intersection in front of the grocery store. Though it seemed straightforward enough, I am sure adding traffic to the mix might leave me with a different impression.
The shopping trip was quick and painless. I was able to quickly locate everything that I planned on purchasing and return to the apartment in a few minutes. Much to my surprise, the trip back was as painless as the trip out, which is nice as driving isn’t my favourite activity.
Upon returning to the apartment I prepared myself one of the chicken breasts that I had just purchased. Once I had finished lunch I spent a little time on my computer.
Just before 2:00 PM my father returned from work to have lunch before our return journey to Orient Beach. This was a pleasant surprise as I expected to meet him about twenty minutes later at the car with sandwiches for him to eat along the way.
We were soon on the road again, making our way back to the other side of the island. It soon became clear that we were making good time and on course to arrive at the sailing place early. Soon after arriving at the beach we noticed that there were many more cars than when we left. People had started parking in just about any and all available places large enough to fit a car. As we were cruising through the first parking lot we were lucky enough to find the a proper parking spot near to the pathway to the beach.
Shortly after the car had been parked and our belongings appropriately accommodated, we started to walk down the beach towards the facility. Immediately it became apparent that the cars we had seen in the parking lot were associated with additional beach-goers. The place was much busier than we had seen it on either of our two earlier trips (both of which had been earlier in the day).
Once we reached the sailing facility we found a staff member to alert him of our presence. He was able to tell us that we would likely be a few minutes late because Yvon, our scheduled instructor, had started his last lesson several minutes late.
While waiting we, but mainly my father, spoke to the guy manning the facility while the other employees were giving lessons and supervising activities. He was from the Marseilles region and had spent a few months living in Sarnia and working at a Bank of Montreal branch to improve his English (which was pretty good). I get the sense that he was much more enamored with the local climate that that which he would have encountered in Sarnia. This guy, who’s name I don’t know, also told us that Yvon, from Breton, had only arrived from France two weeks ago.
Eventually, after several other arrivals and departures, Yvon showed up and we were ready to go. He took us to the boat and showed us the various key components. We then launched the boat, each of us hopping in from the water. Apparently my father had been able to hop in from water only knee keep while I hopped aboard from water that was up to my chest (this is not to suggest that I am more manly, but to show that the water became much deeper with the length of the boat).
Once we were on the water Yvon gave us directions as to how we should set the sails and how to perform different turns. While this process would have likely been marginally improved if his English had been better, I think we were both able to understand his instructions fairly clearly.
After a few practice turns and maneuvers we started just sailing around the bay. As we were heading towards the northern section of the beach we all heard a snap and then saw the jib fall into the ocean. Moments later, almost in slow motion, the mast began to fall from the center of the boat towards the back. As mast hit the water and frame of the boat it snapped out of the pin device holding it to the boat. While my father and I were wondering if we might be able to put the mast back up Yvon had located the broken part and realized that such a feat would be impossible. And though we didn’t know what he was doing at the time, he also tried to remove the sail from the mast so that it couldn’t catch the wind.
Within a few minutes of our mishap we managed to wave down a jet-ski rider and ask him to notify the company about our predicament. As much as I would like to think that he told someone, I really doubt it. Several minutes later another individual on a jet ski stopped by, clearly offering to let someone know. We could see this guy go to the right place and let Yvon’s co-worker know about our situation.
Shortly after the second jet ski stopped by we could see that one of the company’s inflatables was heading towards us. After a somewhat heated and abrupt exchange in French that was too fast for my father or I to catch, the boat returned to its original posting. Yvon then explained that he was unable to tow us as he was supervising a group of windsurfers (who were pretty far away from land). He also explained that another boat would be sent to assist us.
A few minutes later the second boat arrived, and the first boat returned. The three company employees seemed to be discussing what happened and what should have been done given the situation. The guy in charge of the first boat, and the one that seemed to be senior, seemed to be displeased that Yvon hadn’t taken in the sail and done a better job of arranging things. The three of us on the catamaran then tried to remove the sail from the mast and had about as much luck as Yvon had had previously by himself. It was pretty clear that the sail wasn’t going to go anywhere while we were still at sea.
The first boat again departed while the second boat was arranging a towline with Yvon. We were then transferred to the inflatable while Yvon stayed on the catamaran to ensure that the mast and sail weren’t blown into the water. When we started heading back to shore Yvon was on the sail, a position that soon displayed its weakness as wind caught the sail and toyed with Yvon. We stopped and allowed Yvon to insert himself under the sail at the front of the craft.
The two problems, both relatively minor, of the towing were that the mast was not attached to the boat and was dragging, requiring Yvon to hold the mast in place for the duration of the trip, and that the dual rudders had been pushed to an extreme position by the fallen mast.
Soon enough we were back at the beach. My father and I hopped out of the inflatable and made our way over to help Yvon beach the disabled boat. This time both of us were chest high in water as we pulled the boat ashore. Once ashore the three of us pulled the boat onto the beach so that it would be out of the way and unable to drift out.
Shortly after we had returned ashore we made our way back to the building to collect our belongings and return our life jackets. While there we arranged to go out again (for no additional charge) on Tuesday at 3:30. Hopefully we won’t have a similar problem the next time we go out (but it should be noted that two out of the four times my father has been in sailboats using wind power the masts have gone down, so we have a good chance of having another such mishap).
As we walked back to our car it was quite nice to realize that we had had a seawater experience and managed not to have sand in every available location on our body. In particular, not having sand in my hair and ears was quite nice, giving me a new appreciation of why people might engage in wind related activities rather than surf related activities.
While making our way back home we decided to stop at a store on the French side to pick up some ‘Beurre de France,’ which we had been told is more flavourful than typical butter. Though the store had only a few varieties of French butter it did take us some number of minutes to make our selection (the main determinants of which were salt content and price).
We also stopped at a grocery store on the Dutch side to pick up some steak for dinner. While in the grocery store I happened to see that they sold yucca root (also know as cassava). We decided to buy a piece as we had both had a positive reaction to it when we had consumed it a few nights ago.
Soon after we returned home my father went online to find out how to cook yucca root. Once he found a relatively simple recipe that basically involved boiling and then seasoning I started to prepare dinner. The most laborious and time-consuming aspect of which was the peeling, chopping, and boiling of the yucca root (which should suggest that it wasn’t a particularly trying meal). While I was taking care of the food my father was working on some laundry.
Just as my father was transferring the laundry from the washer to the drier I was serving our food. Moments after I finished this process he returned and we were able to eat.
Again, as we had carrots and green beans to accompany our yucca root and steaks, my grandmother would have been pleased with the variety of colours on our plates. To our pleasant surprise the yucca root turned out quite well. When we have it again the only modification to my preparation will be to ensure a more uniform size of the pieces before they are boiled.
After a brief stint on our balcony we went both went to bed well before 10:00 PM, and possibly even before 9:00 PM (something I don’t know as I don’t have a clock in my room). It seems being adrift in the Caribbean Sea for a half hour really tired us out.
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