By Niamh McAnally
Links to all chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6
SERIES FINALE
Chapter 6: St Kitts & Nevis
“I told you not to keep bananas on board,” Logan said, drumming his fingers on the wheel.
“Pourquoi pas?” asked Charlotte.
“They’re unlucky.”
“Because you will slip on a skin?”
“No, because they scare the fish?
“Huh? How can a banana scare a fish? Seriously? I think a shark maybe, but a banana?”
“No, silly. Any self-respecting fisherman will tell you that they have bad luck when there are bananas on the boat – they never catch anything.”
“But you never catch anything anyway.”
Logan raised the peak of his baseball hat, then pulled it down again. He loved his wife to pieces but some days the Caliber 40 wasn’t big enough to house their cultural differences. At times like these he was reminded of Hilaire Belloc’s essay, The Death of a Ship, and how the writer depicted the length of his vessel: Four men were happy on board her, five men she could carry, six men quarrelled. Not that he and Charlotte fought very often, but due to Freddy, their feathered hitchhiker, and its incessant squawking, sleep deprivation was causing Logan to fray around the edges.
“I don’t catch anything because your bird knocked the rod overboard!”
“He’s not my bird!
“I know but — ”
Charlotte giggled.
“What’s so funny?”
“Freddy. Trying to reel in the bunch of bananas, and … and … the bananaquits…
Logan smiled at the vision of the smaller birds digging their beaks in and the tug of war that followed. “More like banana-won’t-quits.”
“Too funny. Ready for lunch?
“Sure.”
Charlotte blew him a kiss and went below.
How did she do that? Always manage to get them over a row so quickly. Even as a child he liked to brood, sometimes not talking to his brothers for days. But he was getting better. Living in tight quarters, just the two of them, forced him to shake off his sulks much faster.
It was a lovely day for sailing, wind 15 knots out of the east, seas 2 – 3 feet, they’d have a beam reach all the way. He planned on bypassing St. Kitts, not just because there was a cruise ship in port, but because he was in search of a man on Nevis. Basseterre was just off their port side when Charlotte came up with the sandwiches. She relieved him on the helm while he ate.
“Where’s Freddy?” he asked.
“I think he’s sleeping.”
“Typical. He couldn’t nap at night?”
“Hey,” said Charlotte, “is that a Selene over there? Maybe they own the spoons we found in St. Barts.”
Logan peered through the binoculars. “Could be, but the dinghy’s gone, they could be anywhere.”
“We could wait.”
“Nah. We need to get to Nevis today. We can double back tomorrow.”
“Why are we rushing?”
“To see John Cleese.”
“Who?”
“John Cleese, the great British comedian.”
Charlotte shrugged.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Monty Python.”
“Is that a snake?”
“How about Fawlty Towers?”
“Fowl-ty Towers, Fowl-ty Towers,” Freddy chimed in from his hiding spot under the winch cover.
Damn, Logan sure hoped the bird hadn’t seen the “dead parrot” sketch.
They arrived in Nevis around 4 p.m. Charlotte prepped the dinner, while Logan went ashore to customs and immigration. She was running low on fresh produce, but with the packet rice and the remaining carrots and zucchini, she created a tasty meal. She was just taking the pot off the burner when she heard the dinghy returning. She went up top to catch the painter and help Logan tie off.
“Ça va?”
“Yep, all cleared in. C’mon, I’m taking you out to dinner.”
“But I’ve just made soup.”
“Perfect, it will keep. C’mon let’s go.”
“Where?”
“One of the locals said Cleese is staying at the Four Seasons and he might be dining at Mangos on Pinney’s Beach. I want to try to catch him before he leaves. Have you seen my duffel?”
“On the settee”
“OK. Here, Freddy, Freddy, come.”
“He’s not a dog.”
When they arrived at the restaurant the comedian’s distinctive laugh could be heard from the far end of the patio. He was seated on one of the wicker armchairs by the water, chatting with a neatly dressed couple. For once, Logan wished they lived on a trawler with hanging closets and a washer/dryer. This tropical vibe was swanky. He was thinking of turning back, but his Scottish grandmother’s favorite saying persisted: ‘Shy bairns get nowt’.
“Excuse me, Mr. Cleese.”
“Yes?”
“Sorry to interrupt you all,” Logan said nodding at the couple, “but I’ve been a fan of Mr. Cleese’s work for many years.”
“Thank you,” John responded. “And you are?”
“I’m Logan, and this is my wife, Charlotte.”
“Bonsoir, Monsieur Cleese.”
“Enchanté, madame.”
Charlotte smiled at how suavely the man slipped into French.
“You’re staying here?” he asked, eyeing the duffel.
“Non, non, just dinner.”
“Quite the handbag for dinner,” he said. “Planning on stealing the silverware, are we?”
“Absolument pas!” said Charlotte, “we have quite enough already, merci.”
Cleese raised an eyebrow. His dining companions leaned in.
“No sir,” Logan jumped in, not quite believing they were chatting with one of his idols. “Actually, we brought this for you.”
“Me? What is it?”
“Not what, who.” Logan pulled Freddy out, a silver spoon in its beak.
“Dear God!” said the comedian jerking back in his seat. “That is not a dead parrot.”
“Freddy Alive, like number five.”
“My spoon!” the yachtie lady jumped up to grab it but Freddy was too quick and hopped onto Charlotte’s shoulder.
“Freddy spooning, Freddy spooning.”
“Can you shut that damn bird up?” said Cleese.
“I was thinking you might like him,” said Logan. “I know he’s not a Norwegian blue but he’s even more colorful.”
“Why on earth would you think I would want a parrot, Scandinavian or otherwise?”
“Well, you know … you were complaining that the parrot you bought was already ‘dead’, ‘deceased’, ‘demised’, ‘passed on’, ‘expired’, ‘gone to its maker’, ‘bereft of life’ and all that.
Cleese laughed. “That was on TV, dear chap, although, good memory.”
Charlotte turned to the lady. “Selene?”
“Yes, our boat is a Selene. I’m Stacey, my husband’s Ron. And I’m pretty sure that’s one of my spoons!
“Super! I’ve been looking for you.” Charlotte eased the spoon from Freddy’s beak and handed over the rest. “Voilà!”
“Thank you so much. We were sitting on the top deck last week when we got hit by a large wake. Half our lunch went overboard.”
Logan was not going to be distracted from his mission of getting rid of the bird. “Mr. Cleese, I know it was a TV show, but surely you must like parrots.”
“No, no, not at all. We hadn’t planned on using a parrot, but people are rather fond of their cats and dogs and would have been upset to see a dead one, even if it was pretend. But parrots? Different story. They’re stupid, noisy creatures. No one would care because no one likes parrots, you see, not even the people who own them!”
“I don’t know about that,” said Stacey. “They’re such clever birds.” The woman held her arm out and Freddy flew to her. She nuzzled his head and stroked his feathers. Logan stared in astonishment; the only sound Freddy uttered was akin to a kitten’s purr.
“Maybe you would like him?”
Oh, sorry, we’re headed to Antigua to haul out,” Stacey said, then we’re flying home.
“Antigua! Anteeee-gaaaaa! Freddy sail home, Freddy sail home!”
And so it was, after six months sailing the Caribbean on a catamaran, a monohull and a Selene trawler, Freddy, the parrot, was finally reunited with his girlfriend in Falmouth Harbour. His wedding to Polly (she refused to change her name) took place during Carnival. Much to Freddy’s dismay and Logan’s delight, the Kanes were unable to attend.
Links to all chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6
Niamh McAnally is an Irish-born author known as The Writer on the Water. Many of her stories are inspired by her global travels on land and by sea. She and her husband, Gary Krieger, spent six years sailing through the Bahamas and the Caribbean islands (fortunately for them, without Freddy). Her award nominated book FLARES UP (2022) tells the true story of why two middle-aged men rowed a 20-ft wooden boat 3,000 nautical miles across the Atlantic Ocean and how it affected their families.
Her memoir, FOLLOWING SUNSHINE, which takes the reader on marine volunteer expeditions to remote islands and exotic locations, and shares the sailing project that brought her and Gary together, will be released in September 2024.
Niamh presents to various groups and book clubs, and teaches writing workshops in Florida and online. She and Gary are also guest speakers on Celebrity Cruises.
To keep abreast of Niamh’s upcoming events, workshops and releases, sign up for her newsletter on https://www.thewriteronthewater.com.
