June 5th, 2003.
On the last day of our honeymoon, Mervyn, yachtsman by profession, treated us to a trip on his 57-foot yacht, named Clara. It was the most idyllic was to finish our vacation. The weather was glorious with no trace of the previous day's torrents!
We sailed down to Marigot Bay on the west coast of the island, where we had lunch at the Mygo restaurant. Mervyn humoured us giving us jobs to do cranking the 'coffee grinder' to unfurl the front sail, but mostly we just lounged and daydreamed about living an entirely different kind of life than we do in St. Louis.
Kirin, "the Rasta", was in training and provided a few heart-stopping moments when he misunderstood Mervyn's instruction while docking on our return to Rodney Bay after lunch.
For our last dinner, we decided to get back in our regular groove and go to an Indian restaurant called Razmataz. We happened to arrive during Happy Hour and ended up having two cocktails each. Tara promptly forgot Peter's brand new digital camera hanging on the back of her chair and spent a rather distressed night thinking it might be lost for good. Donald, the taxi driver, didn't mind stopping at the restaurant before 7am the next morning on our way to the airport. The rather tired British proprietess (who had been kept awake by their guard dogs barking at people stealing mangoes from the tree next to their house) nonetheless graciously opened her bedroom window to find out what we wanted. We hope she got to take a nap during that day, as did Tara on Peter's shoulder during one of the three flights home...
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