And the beat goes on...

8am Monday morning in Antigua and the dock is abuzz with crew, day workers and Mega Yachts coming in and out. I’ve just stepped off of the yacht I’ve been freelancing on for the past three weeks and walked down the dock to my next freelance job aboard an 80 ft. custom build sloop.

Chrome and white shine against the teak deck and the backdrop of Folmath Harbour, the tender is hoisted up on the bow, white canvas awnings stretched taught to provide shade to the cockpit with its teak settee and highly varnished captains wheel. I stub my toe on a wench and I’m instantly reminded that there is inverse relationship between the size of yacht and the multitude of things one can stub a toe on, bang ones head on, etc… I wince, step into the cockpit, stretch over and around “things” and make my way towards the entrance.

“Hi captain!” I say as I look through the port and step onto the ladder extending down to the salon, “oh hello, yes, yes, do come in” he says in a proper British accent. Sporting white blond hair, blue eyes and elongated, British features I can instantly picture him in a grey suit and tie, and with a dour and dry persona examining loan papers at a bank. But on the contrary, he is laid-back, easy going and, like his Kiwi girlfriend (the stewardess), as cool as a cucumber. His girlfriend shows me my bunk. I’m on the bottom, she’s on the top and he’s on a cot that pulls out of the wall. Like I said, it’s a small yacht…

I drop my bag, get right to business and head towards the galley. I’ve already got a list together of my staple ingredients and now I’m just looking at what the yacht has and doesn’t have to tick it off on my list. Fortunately or unfortunately, small yacht = small storage space. Easy to examine, tough to store. Two tiny cupboards under the settee, a few tiny cupboards in the galley, and storage underneath 4 trap doors on the floor make up the extent of it. Plus, 4 small refrigerators and 2 small freezers. This galley makes the galley of the yacht I just got off of seem almost imposing! I compared the oven of the last galley to that of my Easy-Bake oven I had when I was 7, well, this one runs more along the lines of a dollhouse. I almost expect to look inside and find a tiny, plastic turkey with all the fixings, moulded out of clay and intricately painted…

The World Cup of Cricket is going on in the Caribbean right now – basically an opportunity for all the colonies of Great Britain to sock it out in a sporting and civilized manner. Up until now I had only thought of cricket as that annoying little creature that rubs its wings together making a racket enough to keep every living thing awake at night within miles of the little bugger. But no, apparently it’s a game too – similar to baseball, only they call their pitchers “bowlers”, the bats look more like the paddle my brother carved when he was rushing to get into a fraternity at USC, there are two hitters instead of one, they have sanctioned “drinks breaks” (leave it to the British!) and they eat their hotdogs and French fries with Branston Pickles, call them “sausages and chips” and prefer to drink their beer warm. This also means that I have to get my order in today to the provisioner because tomorrow is a national holiday, declared just for the cricket match, and everyone on the island, myself included, will be watching Britain and Australia duke it out on the playing field…

At 10am the provisioner I’ll be using drops by the yacht with lists of ingredients, I’m to fill them out and get them back to her by 3pm. I’ve sorted most of the cupboards and drawers, have put together my provisions order and am working out the details of my menus based on the guests preference sheets. At 11am, I begin to fix lunch for crew from whatever I find in the fridge – green coconut curry with veggies and fish and basmati rice. One pot wonders are really practical on small yachts and I know I can always make crew happy with curry… Plus, I have too much to do to be messing around with anything complex. The Roti Lady comes by the yacht, damn, I have to make lunch for the new crew but I haven’t had a roti yet this year. She came by last year as well and the rotis were always delicious. Warm, thin bread (like a tortilla) filled with curried potatoes, shrimp, chicken, peas… There’s always Wednesday…

At 2pm the flower lady arrives and I talk to her about what flowers I would like for garnishing plates and fruit platters. She suggests some tiny orchids and she is going to bring me some banana leaves and other tropical leaves from her backyard on Saturday (our guest pickup is on Sunday). She tells me about a local company making fresh yogurt and goat cheese on the island (Yao brand). I have to try some, so of course, I place an order. I find some coconuts aboard, left by the previous chef, and the captain and I discuss how we can cut them with a band saw and fashion them into bowls to serve something out of, that will be Wednesdays task.

3pm the provisioner is back to collect my list and discuss delivery dates and times. I give them to her and continue to work through the details of my menus and making up lists of what I need to prepare in advance (deserts, flavoured oils, sauces, etc.).

7pm and I meet up with the crew of the yacht I’d just departed, for sundowners and a bbq. Life is good.

Our guest is someone very, very special and that’s really all I am obliged to say right now. But, this should be a really, really cool charter…