Snafu Island

Vince had thoughtfully made a wonderful reservation for us to go on a two hour sailboat ride on the bay, complete with champagne, to jointly celebrate our anniversary and my birthday. He called the marina the day before to be sure that he knew which marina would be our departure point.

We arrived at the marina just before 6:00 p.m., and as we walked up to the building, we noticed a man in shorts and t-shirt on a small bicycle, cap on backwards as is so common these days, just circling around on the sidewalk. He greeted us, and asked if we needed some help -- he was Jamaican and his English was fairly good. Vince said we were supposed to meet Captain Henry and we were surprised to learn that our biking friend WAS Captain Henry. Not that I expected someone in a white uniform with medals and ribbons on it....(or did I??)

Anyway, Capt. Henry proceeded to tell us that the sailboat wasn’t “working.” For Pete's sakes, I thought, don’t sailboats just use the wind -- how can they not “work?” Which certainly sums up my meager knowledge about sailboats. Capt. Henry started mumbling that he had tried calling us all afternoon with no luck -- the number he had dialed just gave him someone who had never heard of us. Naturally.

Capt. Henry’s Plan B was to treat us with a ride on the “Gitmo Queen” -- he proudly announced we might even like this better than the sailboat. And, he assured us, we would pay the same price for the “Gitmo Queen” as we would for the sailboat. It wasn’t what we planned, but we were there, we had our picnic dinner to go with the champagne, and the weather was accommodating, so we decided to go for it. We had to drive to a nearby marina and when we finally saw the Gitmo Girl, my first reaction was “oh my gosh.”

Apparently, the DEA (Drug Enforcement Administration) actively picks up boats in this area for illegal activities, and sometime the boats end up being confiscated, along with their contents.

The Gitmo Queen was one of these boats, and since her permanent residency in the bay here, she had become a type of party boat available for rental. Needless to say, with all the partying that this boat had seen, she was not in prime condition.





We got on board, and Capt. Henry, with a slight swagger, positioned two plastic chairs on the open deck. He said we could “sit anywhere” we wanted. So, we both sat down dutifully while Capt. Henry steered the boat out of the dock.

Apparently, he was concerned about the atmosphere on the boat, so he proceeded to turn on the local radio station, “The Blitz,” and we were certainly blitzed with loud music (genre = obnoxious). After a few painful minutes, Vince had to ask Capt. Henry to turn the music down....way down.

It soon became evident that no champagne would be forthcoming which was another disappointment. Either Capt. Henry had never received the request, or the language barrier which seems to pop up frequently in the favor of the Jamaicans, had somehow skewed the plan.

Vince and I just looked at each other, with both of us probably thinking “Snafu Island” is alive and well. The boat started chugging slowly out into the bay, and it became apparent that Capt. Henry was trying to mimic a sailboat ride by moving along at about 3 mph. The scent of diesel was lingering all around us.

Ordinarily, a slow speed wouldn’t be a bad thing, but at dusk and dawn on GTMO, you are in danger of being fair game for mosquitoes and elusive little creatures called “no-see-ums.” By this time, the sun was starting to set (danger time!), and with little or no wind at our slow speed, we both were being viciously attacked by voracious insects.

Luckily, due to Vince’s forethought, we had brought along some bug spray. So, instead of lounging back romantically in a sailboat, and toasting our marriage with a magnum of champagne, we furiously sprayed each other with Cutter’s “Skinsations.”

A bright note was that the water was gorgeous -- and as it grew dark and the stars came out, we felt like we were seeing some unknown constellations. And the sunset was very pretty. And we had the bay all to ourselves. While we were trying to focus on some positives, Capt. Henry asked us if we were enjoying the ride and how much longer we wanted to be out. He had been given a timeframe, or so he said, of “6:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m.” and it was just about 7:30 then. One more thing that didn’t seem to be quite right.


We quickly decided that maybe we had experienced enough of the Gitmo Queen for one night (or for any night), so we told him that he could head back to the dock any time.

Hopefully, he would ratchet it all the way up to 5 miles per hour, but no such luck. Maybe this was all the faster this boat could go anymore.

I felt so sorry for Vince - he had come up with such a wonderful idea, and darn it, everything should have happened according to his plan.

But, it didn't, and we are beginning to learn things often go awry on "Snafu Island." And sometimes, all you can do is shake your head and laugh -- and, we have been doing a lot of this lately!