S/V L'ORIENT

The other night at dinner with our geriatric cohort, the talk of the table was the Coast Guard. Everyone told their horror stories involving their boats being torn apart by the USCG and the coast guards of the small banana republics they've visits. I proudly (and prematurely) announced that L'ORIENT had never been boarded by the Coast Guard........even despite close encounters with a US attack submarine and a Dutch guided missile frigate. The very next morning, as I'm sitting in the cockpit...........knock, knock, knock. I look over. The Dutch Coast Guard is here !!! Four guys complete with bad-ass uniforms, guns, everything. Dutch Coast Guard- "Sir, may we come aboard ?" Tom- "I'm not sure this is truly a multiple choice question. Can I go downstairs to make sure my wife has clothes on ?" Dutch Coast Guard- (turning beet-red) "OK" Tom- "OK- she's got clothes on. It's OK to come aboard". Tom- "Aren'

Help...........we've fallen and we can't get up...........(or out, as the case may be). Our cool German posse has left us. Joern and Nata...........(back in Hamburg). Alex and Addie............on their way to Panama. What's left for us ? Our retirement home friends. Old folks love structure, routines, and hierarchy. "Oh, Tom and Kirstin............we didn't see you at happy hour", said in a accusatory fashion..............made us feel like we skipped Algebra in high school. Thinking of missing pizza night ? Think again. "We assume we'll see you at the restaurant.........maybe a little rummy cube after ?" Ahhhhhhhhhhhh !!!!!! The regimentation is absurd. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday we have to be at the bar for Happy Hour. It's at 5:30.............don't be late !!!! It's not even fun because it's compulsory. I feel like a guy holding a cup in the fertility clinic waiting room..........."Glad to see you're on ti

Us with Carlos - Scuba instructor extraordinaire We finally graduated from our scuba course and are now officially "baby scuba fish" as the snarky Dutch teacher called us. The designation is officially "open water scuba certified". I have to say it was fun, with a few somewhat scary moments..........like when you have to take off your mask while deep underwater;  count to 30, then put it back on. Our teacher (Carlos from Madrid) was great, although somewhat of a cliche. If you've ever seen a movie where the hot wife runs off with the dive instructor, this is that dive instructor. Great accent......super good looking........and so sensitive and in touch with emotions that he cries at movies. We had him over for dinner and it became apparent that his dance card is generally quite full, so to speak. Commando Kleman We descended to 18 meters (60 feet) and saw some cool fish and coral during the final dive. Then we practiced our rapid, airless ascent (thi

Kirstin and I share one really odd comedy-related tick...............we absolutely die laughing when something scares children. Remember the Borat scene when the a bear roars through the ice cream truck window and scares the kids ? Truly a comedic masterpiece. Anyway, we experienced a similar moment yesterday. We're are taking scuba training to get our Open Water certification .........we've just waded into the ocean among 10 year old girls swimming in the same area...............suddenly.............huge dorsal fins appear right between these two Dutch tweens............ahhhhhhhh !!!!!!!!!     Young kids screaming like crazy.........Tom stepping behind Kirstin ever so cautiously.............But it's not a shark........it's a huge manta ray. We quickly submerge and watch this thing circle the area. It's not dangerous because they don't eat tweens..........only beer cans, plankton, and other bottom dwelling stuff like that. Anyway, it was totally cool. Th

Yes, we have alot of time on our hands. Watch the video.....

Kirstin and I are not "joiners". Some people like to be part of things.........fraternities, service organizations (Elks, Rotary, etc.), even sports leagues. We look at affiliations with great suspicion......."what does the United Way REALLY want from me ?" Along these same lines, groups try to attract members by creating a brand.........a way everyone acts or looks to attract members. Take bikers, for instance. Leather clothes, chrome german army helmets, tattoos...................their brand is quite specific and attracts a very diverse group of white, midwestern, 50-60 year old males and (I think, females). Your rap sheet determines position in the hierarchy and you can ride any bike you want as long as it says Harley Davidson on the side. Surfers are the same way, although they've got better clothes, a younger look............oh, and better looking women involved. They walk around and act like they don't care about anything (because they don't

You can check out anytime you like but you can never leave... Having a lot of time on your hands has made Tom and I nosy neighbors - otherwise known as observant. For the last two weekends we have noticed a large cruise ship pull into port - the only cruise ship that we have seen here in Bonaire. Generally the arrival of a cruise ship in any other port means a 1000% increase in the number of pasty, confused looking white people walking through town. Not here - not a single conga line in sight. We were back at Norca's Cafe and mentioned this to Norca, as she is now our source for all insider island info. Us: "Hey Norca, what is up with the cruise ship that comes each Sunday but doesn't seem to have any passengers?" Norca: "Oh, you mean the Scientology cruise ship?"  I try not to choke on my Nasi Goreng (delicious, by the way - you have to love a restaurant that can do South American and Indonesian cuisine). Us: "The Scientologists have a cruis

I call her Conchita but I don't really know her name. You see, we're apart now.........probably forever. That's the way it is sometimes. I try not to think of her, but that never works. She's quiet, she never argues with me.........I'm sure she likes sports. And oh, she's quite fit (if you know what I mean). Take a look. Made in Brazil ? Aside from a map, there's one sure way to know that we're very close to South America. Call it the "hoochie factor". The fashionable look for women (and girls) here is what I might call "discount call girl". The more makeup, the better. The more.......er, uh, "front-end" the better. Spandex is everywhere, and if there was a society for the prevention of spandex abuse, they'd be headquartered here. The official ride of Bonaire's "pay for play" set The guys aren't much better. Every night during dinner, we're serenaded by at least 10 Rico Suave's revvin

When you live on a boat, life is different. These differences more or less revolve around the fact that your house floats; it's entirely disconnected from land. Thus there is no gas, water, or power company to rely on. You essentially make/store your own, and so your life revolves around using/maintaining the systems that make life "normal". For example, dinner last night.........first, some music. We like music and hate commercials. We've been XM radio devotees for years but XM doesn't broadcast south of the Bahamas (we're 75 miles north of Venezuela now). So, we have a Wifi antenna which extends our range and we stream XM through our on-board computer to our entertainment system.  This is all powered by our 630 amp hour 24 volt battery bank.......essentially 12 truck batteries wired in series and in parallel. So we've got tunes.......what's for dinner ? Pasta with pesto and smoked sausage ! Yum. We turn on the propane tank (located in the

Last night, Kirstin and I were in our new favorite restaurant- Capriccio. The owner/dictator is this exacting, food and wine loving gourmand who takes time to explain the menu and wine list to everyone. It only has about 15 tables and is quite intimate..........maybe too intimate. At the next table are some Americans (rare here in Bonaire). We listened intently for some pre-wine bottle delivery entertainment........ Little Davey- Boy, dad........today's snorkeling was great........what do you think that big orange thing was ? Dad's response- Well, little Davey.........it was one of the mysteries of Neptune's kingdom. Maybe we should look it up on-line in order for us to become more responsible snorklers !! What Dad was thinking- "It was your Mom's big butt. She hasn't been to the gym in ages......come to think of it, not since our wedding". Little Becky- Mom, isn't this great..........you can read me a story tonight and we can watch Nemo agai

Kirstin and I had just arrived in Bonaire and were desperately seeking food. We faithfully followed the signs advertising an Indonesian restaurant to the second floor of a small building...........curses ! closed. Then we bumbled into "Norca's Cafe". OK, let's give it a shot. Norca (unsurprisingly, the proprietor) came out. "Hi, I'm Norca. Let me tell you about the island. Dutch families come here to vacation........Venezuelan women come here to work..........Columbian young ladies come to work too, but in the "gentleman's club" where for $40 US they'll do anything". And it's legal here, by the way. Gulp. By now, Kirstin and I are staring dumbfounded at Norca.......this is way, way, beyond too much information. I tried to act disinterested as she continued......... "Yeah, it's so bad that the locals and the single Dutch men go to the airport and wait for the flight from Bogota. They pick out the girl(s) they want ri