Bob Marley Concert

As I ventured down to the Caribbean for my two week Double Secret Sabbatical, on top of relaxation, sun etc; I had a small goal. Based on my theory (and blog) from a couple months ago, my simple goal was to engage in some interesting conversations. And, always the overachiever, (ha) I did accomplish this.... and some were better than others.

Four days into the trip, I was given the keys to the truck and was on my own for the day. I've been going down to St. Croix for a long time now and this was the first time this had happened. Not a huge deal, but they do drive on the opposite side of the road down there, so some brief "driver's ed" was needed. I think driving on the left is actually cooler than driving on the right, but that just could be the island bias talking. After passing the "driver's test" I was off to conquer the island.

So I packed a bag and headed down to Cane Bay, the closest beach. This beach is generally pretty quiet, ( it was a Tuesday), however it's considered kind of a hotspot for diving and snorkeling. Both not particularly my cups of tea, but it was fun to watch them mill about the beach and ocean. There also are a couple beach bars in the area, so I there was no doubt I'd be frequenting one of those. Or both.

I began the day sitting on the beach, reading The Last Lecture (see previous post if you're confused). After a couple hours, the stomach was growling, so I jumped in the truck and headed to beach bar #1, a place called Off The Wall, for it's location on top of a rocky wall overlooking the sea. I'd eaten here before, knew the food was good, so I was looking forward to the excursion.

I sat down at the bar, and appeared to be surrounded by a crowd of locals. It's easy to spot locals on St. Croix:they are cranking butts, heavily tanned, wrinkled and look about 10-15 years older than they actually are. Locals who've been there a little to long I should say. I ordered a rum punch and a turkey club from the bartender, who basically grunted something inaudible. OK then. I proceeded to smile, peer around the outdoor establishment...not really getting any "bites." Well, perhaps this wasn't the world's friendliest place, but nonetheless food was good, the drinks had rum in them, and I went on my way back to the beach. With my to-go cup, a perfectly legal practice on St. Croix.

I got into the book for another couple hours, mixing up chapters by diving in the blue Caribbean Sea. As my man Jimmy Buffett would say, That salt air, it ain't thin, it'll stick right to your skin, make you feel fine...

After more rays, I noticed the other beach bar, called Spratnet, basically meaning "minnow net" just a short walk down the beach. There was a large Cruzan fellow blasting what appeared to be Bob Marley: Legend and dancing raucously around the bar, which was unoccupied. After watching this guy for a while, who looked like he was having the time of his life, I decided to walk over and see what all the fun was about. I walked on down the beach, up to the bar, sans shirt or shoes, and said, "Hey man, you look like you're having a great time over here...figured I'd come join you." The man let out a ginormous smile, greeting me with the island handshake (a handslap followed by a fist bump) and introduced himself as Calvin, the bartender/proprietor. No one else was there just yet, so Calvin poured me a rum punch, we chatted it up and continued to jam out to Bob Marley. Being caught in the moment, I couldn't help but sing most songs word for word, as I've been listening to that album since I was a freshman in high school.

After another rum, more people started to show up and conversations began to flow naturally. A couple from Colorado, a local young lady, an engineer at the local resort. And of course Calvin. I'm beginning to have a great time. Minutes later, as the reggae rythyms continued to play, Calvin comes over to me and asks, "Hey mon, you goin' to de Bob Marley concert in New York next month?" with a big, sh*t eatin grin on his face. I immediately put on the same grin. "Calvin, are you serious? You takin' me for a fool, my man. Bob's been dead for years! Come on man!" He then let out a laugh, and said he was jus' checkin'. After thinking about this later, Calvin was probably trying to test me, to see if I was just some clueless tourist or poser or whatever. Apparently I passed the test, because then he pulled out a big jug of a dark liquid, label scraped off the side of the bottle. Some people may consider this a red flag, however I did know that some of the local establishments concoct there own thick, rum like liquor, though really not sure what's in it. He sent plastic cups to the girl to my right, the engineer, myself, and finally one for him. He explained this concoction was called "papa wama." Fair enough, we all raised our glasses in celebration of the fine mood of the day.

Shortly after that, three twentysomethings approached the bar, ordered a round of Heinekens and made there way to some loung chairs down on the beach, a few steps from the breaking surf. After studying these three for a bit, I realized they look like my type of cats: 2 laid back, skater/sufer looking dudes and 1 stunning brunette. They looked like a good time, so I proceeded to ask my new friend, "Calvin! Hey, you think those kids down there would have a problem with me going over to join them on the beach?" "No mon, of course not," he replied so I went on my way.

I sauntered on down to them, introduced myself, said I was on the island for two weeks and would love to hang out with a few twentysomethings. The three seemed cool with the idea, so I sat down and conversation would ensue. Turns out they knew some of my family down there, so we began to get along famously. I offered to buy a round, which turned even more famous. The afternoon ended up to be a blast.

But we headed our separate ways, never to reconnect over the course of the trip. I did visit Spratnet again a few times; Calvin and I became fast friends. As for the bartender at Off The Wall? Well, let's just say that over the course of the trip about 5 other people I spoke with said the exact same thing about him. Let's see, how does it translate...oh yes, prick. He was a complete prick.

Moral of the story, if you act poorly, your reputation will precede you. And not in a good way. And if you act like a decent human being, perhaps chat it up a bit, you really never know what will happen...but then again, that's what it's all about, right?

Remember: Always Talk To Strangers!