I keep asking myself, “Why am I here in the Caribbean Islands?” The answer eludes me. So, I thought I’d make some notes while I sit here dangling my toes in the water, with a cold beer in hand. It’s so the bottle is frosted up.
It’s quiet. here, so quiet it’s spooky. I can hear low mumblings of my friends sitting on bar stools in the local beach bar. I wonder why it is so much easier here to talk to total strangers. I wonder why no one seems to wear anything much. Where are all these lobster coming from?
I wonder are my friends drinking those cool cocktails with those cute little umbrellas, will even know their names later? Will I be able to get them back on the boat safely? We’ll see.
My legs don’t seem to be working very well now. Uncle Mickey the bartender sure seems to be a good man. He mixes a mean drink; it seems to amuse him. Is he bad man or good man? Dunno?
What’s my name? I guess this is why I’m I here in the Caribbean Islands, It’s no wonder I am here having a great time.
For all you sailors in the beach bar, please study the image above before you raise anchor.