Sweet Memories (privat)

Since we had left Colombia crew sometimes changed and new faces were showing up. In Belize we said good bye to a mate who was sailing with us for a while. In the same boat who picked him up was sitting a young girl with a big smile on her face. Lulu welcomed her hearty: she had been on board before; twenty years ago when her mom, heavy with child, was celebrating marriage on the ship. We got to be close friends on the way to Honduras, where her mother arrived: “Huu Puupsi” she called out from far away. It was obvious, where the girl had her funny and lovely nature from.

 

We spent every free minute together, cooked, philosophized, rattled with the hired scooter from the supermarket across the island, studied the signs of the zodiac in the jib net and accompanied each other during the night watches on the crossings, which weren’t always quiet and relaxed. In one of the stormy days at sea - just before sunset - broke the jib boom and ripped a sail apart. With a broken nose made it the old schooner into the bay of Providencia. We cut off the remains, buried the old boom in the harbor and started looking for proper replacement. Soon we met Jorge chief of the police on this island and a couple of other people, invited a band to our ship and partied the half night through with all of them.

 

As the days where passing by, there came the moment, to say goodbye to “Puupsi”. We drove to the peer early in the morning, where Jorge was already waiting, to bring us to the airport with his police transporter. There he bought breakfast for us, disappeared for a while and came back with the second boarding message: “You can go with her through the sally port – no worry!” he said, nodded appeasing to the perplex security staff and held the airport security back, which came hurrying down the ramp to the plane where we both ambled along. Finally, when the girl had disappeared in the aircraft and I was back from the tarmac he said to them: “You see? Everything alright!” then he seized upon my shoulders, grinned and brought me back to the ship. We stayed a little bit longer on this Island, before we lifted the anchor, to sail homeward into our homely island world.