Staniel Cay(Chris Larkin) We were getting ready to sail from Staniel Cay, Exuma. One of my all time favorite spots in the Bahamas. I had so much fun there years before. The home of Happy People Marina & the Staniel Cay Yacht club. Just another great place on the way to Jamaica. We were docked at the Staniel Cay Yacht Club. Kim & I and the Ida, my 47' ketch. Staniel Cay is the home of Thunderball Caves. A James Bond movie was filmed there. Tiger shark heaven! At night time the tiger sharks cruise the docks. Great big man eaters looking for the scraps. That's why I tied up to the docks. I didn't want to fall overboard here at night, that's for sure. My first night there I went hunting them with my zodiac, my fishing rod, a bottle of rum and my shotgun. The first two sharks towed me all over the harbour and were probably big tigers. They had bitten right through the metal leaders. No one expected me to come back alive that night. The dock was full of non believers. I had faith tho', and my bottle of rum. That's all I've ever needed.

I ended up coming back with a 12 foot lemon shark. The best eating of them all except for the Mako. It was a big hit at the dock's. It was going to be great with the rest of the meal we had planned for Galen. My best friend in the world, Galen, was flying in from Lauderdale with a suitcase full of prime beef the next day. We met him at the airport a short distance away. Staniel Cay is a small island. He had a pair of new topsiders for us both as well as a suitcase full of steaks. Kim needed new boat shoes because her sneakers weren't cutting it. Galen would use any excuse to fly in to see us. We had just seen him in Nassau. We ended up trading the folks that had gotten up before noon and went diving that morning, steaks & fresh wrangled lemon shark for some of their lobsters. They all had smelled the beef on the grill and came a visiting. I was happy to trade. Nothing like surf & turf! Meat usually doesn't make it that far south, unless you fly it in like we had. Seafood is an every day thing in the Bahamas, lobsters and all.

Dinner and a few bottle's of rum later. Galen flew home in the morning but we had quite a bit of attention to ourselves. Our next stop was going to be Great Inagua Island. The home of the largest flamingo reserve out of Africa, and the Morton salt mines. Our neighbors at the dock had been an old couple, with two young daughters. The wife and kids were so cool. The husband had never said a word till the day we left. I had asked his wife to toss us the lines as we backed away from the dock. A tricky maneuver on its own. The current rip's pretty good. As I was getting ready to depart the hubby spoke up. It still put's chills down my spine. His words were, "excuse me Capt Red, may I ask you something?" I said, "yes sir". "Are you a drug smuggler or a DEA agent?" Agent was my answer as his wife was untieing my lines and I was backing away from the dock. His reply stopped me in my tracks. "I will have to let the home office know that they have too many of us here." I laughed and headed out to sea. Out of eyes view and a few rum shots and laughed. Not my first time with the DEA nor my last. The DEA put's agents all over the Caribbean, especially on islands with airstrips. I'm sure he was one. I just hope Kim and I had entertained him with our style. I'm sure we did.

Next stop was great Inagua. We anchored off shore and took the zodiac in. The mosquito's here are the worst in the Bahamas. Lots of mangrove swamps. Real pretty with all the flamingos, but not worth the mosquitoes. When you head back to the sail boat you have to lose them, the mosquito's. You drive all over to lose them, otherwise they are with you all night. I had also gone snorkeling that afternoon and had a shark snatch one of my dive fins off my foot. So I was glad to get the hell out of there. So early in morning we pulled anchor.

Next stop Jamaica, or so we had hoped. The windward passage is quite the thrill. It's the passage between Haiti and Cuba. On a clear day you can see the mountains of each country. Look to the right Cuba or left Haiti. Lots of open water and no place to hide. It can make or break you real fast. We had fuel drums lashed to the mast. They were tied up good and we were ready for the windward passage. The only gutsy sailing we had done so far was from Lauderdale to Bimini in the gulf stream. I had done that fifty mile trip a hundred times before in speed boats. Empty one way and loaded the other. It can be real tough or easy as pie. Our crossing had been a breeze. As well as all the skipping down the Bahamas chain had been. We were taking it pretty easy. Every night we would anchor or hit a marina for a party. After the Bahamas you have no choice. I was looking forward to the windward passage, and she didn't disappoint me. The wind kicked up wild and was nothing to be afraid of. A sailors dream as far as I'm concerned. It was coming out of the north, northwest. Just what we needed and we were hauling ass. This was the sailing she was made for. This was the sail boat that I had dry docked for three months building blind walls to hide the Jamaican weed. The job on the walls were perfect. All the best electronic toys, radar, sat nav, radios. It was all the best money could buy. But the sailboat herself had to be ready. The wind was howling and Kim and I were having a ball. I was an old sword fisherman and had done it for a living for years. I knew this was prime waters for big game fish. In the islands we fished every day. Grouper, snapper, you name it, but all little fish. But they had fed us real well. I broke out my tackle box. No big game lures for marlin or sail fish or the king of all the swordfish. I had lots of big hooks though. I took an empty tooth paste tube and slit the end into feathers and rigged a hook through it and gave it a shot. Three in the morning doing 12 knots with the wind, the reel went crazy and I freaked. I let it run then nailed it. Whatever I had, I had it hooked good. I hadn't been in a hurry to get to Jamaica before and I wasn't in one now. We dropped the sails and kicked on the diesel. This was no little fish. It was taking line by the spool. Kim steered what ever way I yelled. I was walking all over the boat. From bow to stern. Ya gotta play big fish. I wasn't about to lose one I caught on a toothpaste tube. Almost two hours later I landed a 150 pound swordfish. I was in fisherman's heaven. The little sucker was tired. I got him so close so many times and he would just take off. When I finally grabbed that sword in my hands, I wasn't letting go. I would have lost some fingers first. So proud was I! I got him on board and set sail again. Kim at the wheel, me with my trophy. I cut off the head and gutted it like I had done so many times before. The winds relay picked up after that. Like God was granting us the wind. The Ida was healing all the way over to starboard. The rails were buried under water. We were flying. It was so, so cool.

Then all Hell broke lose. The fuel drums that were lashed to the mast broke lose. I dumped the sails and we went upright. We had only lost one and I secured the other ones and we set sail again. I was a little worried about fuel now though so we decided on a stop over in Haiti. The tip closest to Jamaica is a little town called Jeramie. I'm glad we did, because it was quite the experience. By mid morning we had made it through the windward passage. Now we were seeing the mountains of Haiti all day. I had stopped in Cape Haitian years before, on my first sail boat trip to Jamaica in 1979. I ended up sailing two thousand pounds of weed back from Jamaica on that trip. We sailed into Jaramie a couple hours before sunset. The pier filled up with Haitians. It was like they had never seen anything like us. Maybe they hadn't. I unlashed the zodiac and dropped it into the water and then hooked up the 25 evenrude on it and headed to the pier. Kim stayed on the Ida. She was freaking because of the hundreds of people looking on and more on the way. I was greeted by the town elder. No customs, no police here. I tied up to the pier and was given a hand up. I felt like Columbus discovering a new land. After shaking hundreds of hands I got down to business. Fuel was all I needed, I said, and not a problem I was told. He wanted a ride out to my boat, for a look around and I said let's go. I figured this will be fun. Into my zodiac he went. I noticed he had a little rusted 22 pistol in his waist band. I wasn't worried. I was twice his size. He would never get a chance to use it. I made him a stiff rum drink and talked awhile. He took a good look around. I'm sure he had no idea of what he was looking at. He found a big bag of white stuff. Our tide soap box had sprung a leak, so I bagged it up into a zip lock. He thought he had hit pay dirt. If it was coke I would have tossed him over board and hauled ass any way. We watched him with a laugh just waiting. Sure enough, he dipped his fingers in for a big taste. After he quit coughing up bubbles and Kim & I quit laughing I took his ass back to shore. I wanted to have Kim & I come ashore for the night but not allowed was the answer. Probably a good idea. I took him back to shore and I went back to the Ida and made a killer meal of swordfish steaks.

The next morning was the best. A little wooden boat with a drum of fuel headed out our way. The gentleman I had met was on board and a driver. I loaded the fuel drum with his help, and he came aboard. The other guy was smarter and he stayed in the wooden skiff. I asked boss man what the damage was for the fuel. Thirty some gallons of diesel fuel, 100 dollars. No sweat. I expected to pay that. Now it gets interesting. Fifty dollars for the dock master to watch our boat all night. The boat that we were not allowed off. Fifty dollars for the doctor that we might have needed. And let's not forget three hundred for our new friend. That put it around five hundred dollars all together. I think that's ten years living in Haiti. He still had the little rusted 22 pistol in his waist band. His little search of my boat had never turned up my arsenal of guns. I smiled and went down below. I grabbed a hundred dollar bill and the rest of the swordfish and my little stainless steel Ithaca shotgun. It was my baby. I had used it in so many battles before and all they had was no more than a rusted toy. I came back up and sat down with my shotgun on my lap. He didn't say a word. The haggling was over. I gave him the hundred dollar bill and the rest of the swordfish. All good I asked? You betcha' was his reply. I sent him away with many thanks and we got under way. Next stop Ocho Rios.

We sailed into Ocho Rios harbour around five that afternoon. It's a small harbour with the cruise ship docks and hotels and a small beach. I knew if you wanted to leave your boat in Jamaica, you can't leave your guns onboard. They are afraid they'll be stolen and the last thing Jamaica needs is more guns. So I wrapped up my shotgun, rifle and 357 magnum pistol in a sleeping bag and had Kim take me to shore after getting the zodiak ready. Customs office at the dock was closed. Here we go, another adventure.

I send Kim back to the Ida and hail a taxi. To the police station I say. Even the taxi driver was a little miffed. I walk into the Ocho Rios police station carrying a sleeping bag which I preceded to set on the counter. The Chief of police was there at the desk. "I'm checking in, boss" I said. I unrolled the sleeping bag to unveil three hi-quality firearms. I could see it in his eyes that he thought I was one cool customer. I explained that I had just sailed in, but had sailed to Jamaica before and knew the laws. It was all good after that. He told me it was gong to take awhile to write it all up. No computers, all hand written. He told me to go in the other room and have a beer, Jamaican red stripe. They had a bar for the cops and a ping pong table. How cool is that, I ask you. So after a few beers, I was told I was good to go. I cabbed it back to the pier and yelled for Kim to come get me. We were now in Jamaica and waiting to be loaded.

Irie, Big Red

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