Read Online Just Different Devils by Jinx Schwartz - Free Book Online
Authors: Jinx Schwartz
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Mystery, Sea stories, Genre Fiction, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Women's Adventure, Sea Adventures
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dock, but neither did he give a clue as to where he wanted to go. I say "he" because we now were pretty sure this was a guy due to his grocery list: hamburger meat, steaks, bacon, and beer. Call me a sexist, but that sounds like dude food to me.
Jan and I decided a run to Costco in Cabo San Lucas was in order, mainly because we wanted to expand our wine cellar with our vict...uh, client's moola.
I hired a singlehander/anchorout/sailor on Casual Water , Dick Atkinson, who was perpetually short on cash, but had a reputation for being reliable, to dog-and-boat sit for the day because I didn't want to haul Po Thang with us.
As I drove, we went over the cruise schedule and shopping lists, Jan making notes on the clipboard as we came up with stuff we didn't want to forget. Or goodies we normally couldn't afford. By the time we got to Costco, she was on page two.
Luckily I had two chest freezers on board, one in the engine room and one on deck. The deck freezer was for fish only, where we kept bait and catches. Whether living on a boat away from a dock, or keeping food on the table in a remote whale research camp, provisioning for a month is no easy task, but both Jan and I have become master provisioners.
Jan's menu plan for the month included serving seafood as often as possible, but we couldn't always count on it due to weather and our historical bad luck as anglers. We'd even tried our hand at netting our own shrimp, but the barter system is so much easier and successful. During bad weather we were usually holed up in the same anchorage with shrimp boats, their crew eager to trade shrimp and fish for chicken, SPAM, hot dogs, and a couple of magazines from the Playboy stash I keep on board for just this purpose. Someone gave my father a subscription and he saves them for me. After reading all the articles, of course.
Fresh veggies are always a major problem—we'd be down to cabbage and carrots after a month—so we stocked canned beets and frozen peas, broccoli, cauliflower and the like so once the fresh stuff was gone, we'd have side dishes. Mexican boxed milk has the shelf life of nuclear waste, and since their eggs are not refrigerated, a few flats last well over a month if kept in a cool, dark space.
I'd borrowed ice chests from just about every boat on our dock, filled my entire truck bed with them, and we left by seven in the morning.
"Dang, Hetta, I'm plumb wore out and we ain't even halfway to Cabo."
"Tell me about it. Let's grab breakfast and coffee in Todo Santos to revive ourselves. I think, this early in the morning, we can get through town without being spotted."
"Ha! One can hope. Last time through we were lured by the Shopping Goddess, led astray by colorful gauze and bangles, which led to a need to show off our new attire to the bar staff and patrons at the Hotel California. Too bad we're probably unwelcome there, like, forever."
"Betcha the bartender still loves us. Don't you just wonder, though, whether that admirer of yours was a real bullfighter?"
"My admirer? It wasn't me he was waving his big old, uh, cape at."
"That's only because, Miz Jan, you were way too engaged in stomping all Billy hell out of a tabletop. Not a bad flamenco, I have to admit."
"Ah, to be young again."
"That was three months ago, Chica."
"Yabbut, we are reformed women."
We shared a yuk, and threw the hotel a kiss as we rolled by.
We didn't get back to the boat until almost four, and it looked as though Santa had arrived early this year. The decks were piled with cardboard boxes and canvas bags. And, atop my mast, was a contraption that looked somewhat like my old satellite system, only sleeker and smaller.
Dick and Po Thang were watching Animal Planet and eating popcorn when we arrived. I do not have television service on my boat, nor popcorn.
Po Thang seemed somewhat glad to see us, but other than a half-hearted tail thump, he was reluctant to leave his bowl of popcorn to greet us properly. Flighty, my fur
Jan and I decided a run to Costco in Cabo San Lucas was in order, mainly because we wanted to expand our wine cellar with our vict...uh, client's moola.
I hired a singlehander/anchorout/sailor on Casual Water , Dick Atkinson, who was perpetually short on cash, but had a reputation for being reliable, to dog-and-boat sit for the day because I didn't want to haul Po Thang with us.
As I drove, we went over the cruise schedule and shopping lists, Jan making notes on the clipboard as we came up with stuff we didn't want to forget. Or goodies we normally couldn't afford. By the time we got to Costco, she was on page two.
Luckily I had two chest freezers on board, one in the engine room and one on deck. The deck freezer was for fish only, where we kept bait and catches. Whether living on a boat away from a dock, or keeping food on the table in a remote whale research camp, provisioning for a month is no easy task, but both Jan and I have become master provisioners.
Jan's menu plan for the month included serving seafood as often as possible, but we couldn't always count on it due to weather and our historical bad luck as anglers. We'd even tried our hand at netting our own shrimp, but the barter system is so much easier and successful. During bad weather we were usually holed up in the same anchorage with shrimp boats, their crew eager to trade shrimp and fish for chicken, SPAM, hot dogs, and a couple of magazines from the Playboy stash I keep on board for just this purpose. Someone gave my father a subscription and he saves them for me. After reading all the articles, of course.
Fresh veggies are always a major problem—we'd be down to cabbage and carrots after a month—so we stocked canned beets and frozen peas, broccoli, cauliflower and the like so once the fresh stuff was gone, we'd have side dishes. Mexican boxed milk has the shelf life of nuclear waste, and since their eggs are not refrigerated, a few flats last well over a month if kept in a cool, dark space.
I'd borrowed ice chests from just about every boat on our dock, filled my entire truck bed with them, and we left by seven in the morning.
"Dang, Hetta, I'm plumb wore out and we ain't even halfway to Cabo."
"Tell me about it. Let's grab breakfast and coffee in Todo Santos to revive ourselves. I think, this early in the morning, we can get through town without being spotted."
"Ha! One can hope. Last time through we were lured by the Shopping Goddess, led astray by colorful gauze and bangles, which led to a need to show off our new attire to the bar staff and patrons at the Hotel California. Too bad we're probably unwelcome there, like, forever."
"Betcha the bartender still loves us. Don't you just wonder, though, whether that admirer of yours was a real bullfighter?"
"My admirer? It wasn't me he was waving his big old, uh, cape at."
"That's only because, Miz Jan, you were way too engaged in stomping all Billy hell out of a tabletop. Not a bad flamenco, I have to admit."
"Ah, to be young again."
"That was three months ago, Chica."
"Yabbut, we are reformed women."
We shared a yuk, and threw the hotel a kiss as we rolled by.
We didn't get back to the boat until almost four, and it looked as though Santa had arrived early this year. The decks were piled with cardboard boxes and canvas bags. And, atop my mast, was a contraption that looked somewhat like my old satellite system, only sleeker and smaller.
Dick and Po Thang were watching Animal Planet and eating popcorn when we arrived. I do not have television service on my boat, nor popcorn.
Po Thang seemed somewhat glad to see us, but other than a half-hearted tail thump, he was reluctant to leave his bowl of popcorn to greet us properly. Flighty, my fur
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