thoughts of a deviant
 
  entry created: Sunday 13 April 2003, 9:04am (NZ time)
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Location:  Ink & Art, Simpson Bay, St Maarten
Local time:  Saturday, 5pm
Music:  pass

Well, reached a bit of a low point last night - I lost my entire wallet, with my Visa card, drivers licence, and US$350. I'd worked so hard for that bloody money, to be left with not a cent to my name. I'm pretty sure I left it on a bus (stupid, stupid me). When I got out, I patted my shorts down, realised I didn't have it, tried to run after the bus but couldn't, so ran into the middle of the street and screamed at the next oncoming car to stop and give me a ride. "Follow that bus!", agitated, freaking out and stressing out. Caught up with it in Philipsburg, searched the bus, spoke to the driver, nothing. He said 3 other people had been on it since. So I'm stuck in Philipsburg with nothing but the clothes on my back. A strange feeling really. I forlornly hitch-hiked back to Cole Bay (where I'm staying) and searched around wondering if I'd maybe dropped it on the street or something. Asked around, nothing. So reported it to the Police. Feeling like complete shit. Not only was that my wages, but my only access to my NZ bank accounts was in that wallet, plus the wallet itself was a primo expensive Italian one with great sentimental value, and the only thing out of all of it that was irreplaceable.

Was very very upset most of the evening. Met up with Morten and we headed to Lady C's for a drink (his shout, funnily enough) then on to Bliss nightclub, but my heart just wasn't in it. So many 'what-ifs' and 'if-onlys' going through my head. But nothing I can do about it now. Somebody woulda just found the wallet, taken the money, and hiffed it away.

Thankfully I got paid US$120 today for a day and a half's work, so I'm not stuck, but I came bloody close. I have to now cancel my Visa card (turns out to be a complete mission from over here) and try and sort out a new one (God knows how) as well as a driver's licence.

I have travel insurance, so hopefully that will cover most of the money lost.

Lesson learnt. The hard way.


and in other news...

Still working on 'Constanter', the racing yacht. We're going for a test sail on Monday, and I get paid for that too which is cool. Probably my last day on that. Tomorrow (Sunday) I'm doing a 'watch' on Beaugeste (the boat I'm going to Palma on) from 3pm, while the captain takes the crew out for dinner. Will be my first real intro to the boat etc. Getting US$50 to sit on my ass on the boat (tied up at the dock beside a bar). Will take along my guitar, and probably watch DVDs etc. Then we leave for Palma de Mallorca (about 2500 mile sail away? 3-ish weeks at sea across the Atlantic) on Thursday. Once there, if it's gone well they'll probably keep me on for daywork (a better pay rate than the Atlantic crossing rate) and maybe offer me a full-time crew job if I want it. Will have to suss out Palma first and see what's up - Stinkpots (the mega power boats) pay more than sailboats so I might wanna get onto one of those. But they're not really a true sailor's vessel huh.

Sheesh, what a long entry.

Been going out a lot. Getting about 4 hours sleep most nights. Walking about 2 hours every day too - the foot's holding up but is really achy at the end of the night.

Played the drums twice so far, with two different local bands (including a 7 piece blues one with harmonica and sax). Had a great time. One of the (local) black musicians said "aye mon you da best drummer I ever heard mon, you bring da music alive and the spirit of music to da evening".

Ruh-speck. John (from Iguana Soup) wants me to stay and form a new band with him. Sorry John.

Had dinner at a (very local) ribs joint in Grand Case (French side) the other night, with Morten. The French side is so much classier than this side, which is the really poor Caribbean side of life.

I think somebody's moving into the apartment at Lagoonies tomorrow, so I also have to now look for somewhere to stay until Thursday. God gimme a break.

Well, guess I should go suss my Visa card. See yers.

(PS. local island caribbean girls have big asses) (but da black rasta man be liking that, aight mon?)


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