WW and I were up first in the morning as usual. This year, our pattern has made a change. I am usually up first, at about 6:30 a.m. He follows at close to 7 a.m., when Chris Parker comes on the SSB radio. WW had had his breakfast and was slurping his coffee out in the glories of the harbour morning. Then along came our original boat boy to deliver our laundry. Two bags full. WW took the resulting bundles aboard and asked, "How much?"
"Two hundred and thirty EC," said John (for that was his name). He has a very bad stammer and had a great deal of difficulty voicing this outrageous sum. He wanted $92 US for two or three loads of laundry.
"No," said WW. He can be straightforward at times. "That's ridiculous."
John tried, we'll give him that. "The machine broke. It had to be done by hand."
Finally, WW said he'd go ashore and deal with the laundry people himself. John saluted WW. Respect, WW thought.
The laundry, when we opened it, was still damp, unfolded, nasty. We slung all the damp stuff along the lifelines, folded what was dry, and prepared to go ashore.
We went into the Admiralty Yacht Club and walked to town. First, however, WW went to find out about the laundry. The woman who did it was around, but couldn't be located. Someone said something like $25 EC per load. We discussed at length whether we'd had two loads or three. Still, there was no way the math came to $230 EC.
Memorial to slaves in the town square of Clifton, Union Island
In Clifton, we shopped at the vegetable market, a series of brightly painted stalls by the town square. We bought some lovely fruits and vegetables, and one stall keeper gave us nutmeg and a huge grapefruit, just because.
Clifton market
We shopped, very successfully, at a charming gift place run by a French immigrant woman. We also found a place that offered a laundry service: $35 EC/load.
We found a cruiser's provisioner, run by more French immigrants, where we bought our nonperishables...and a loaf of delicious sunflower seed bread. WW asked if there was another grocery store in town and was told no.
Enn and I sat with our bags and bags of purchases while WW and Dana went in search of a bank. They returned rather crabby. Not only had they found a bank but also a grocery store where the rum had been $10 EC less per bottle compared with the provisioner's.
Back at the yacht club, the laundry woman had appeared, although the wrong one. Ours was on her day off. This one told WW she charges $35 EC per load. So WW was poised to give her $75 to give to the absent laundress when John's sidekick appeared and claimed responsibility for the laundry. But WW had him. "Here's $75 EC, then," WW said. John's sidekick looked glum, but accepted.
Moral of the story: If you're in a place with sand, don't be afraid to draw a line in it.
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