ARG Meeting
Ambler Isle
V and S
Tue 5 Apr 2011 00:44
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April 2, 2011
An ARG Meeting had been called for 5:30pm. The
letters stand for Alcohol Research Group, or After Regatta Group. Either
way it is a call for an evening of fun. But before we could get to that we
loaded up the dinghy with fishing gear to search again for the elusive
Mahi. Janie and Jim followed in their dinghy. Jim proclaimed a
tournament: biggest fish of the day would earn the winner a fresh conch
salad. Conch salad is a Bahamian delicacy. It calls for fresh diced
conch, green pepper, and onion with fresh lime juice squeezed over it. The
lime juice "cooks" the conch, turning it white and firm. They serve a
similar dish called Cerviche in Mexico, but use several different types of
seafood. The cost at the little conch stand at Volleyball Beach is
$10. After nearly 4 hours and 19 miles of dragging lines, we decided
to call it a day. Neither had gotten even a nibble. Heading back to
the cut, Valt's line sang out: fish on! Of course, it such shallow water
it could only be BARRACUDA. And it was a 3 foot cuda. But it was
enough to win our salad. Jim insisted on paying up immediately, so we
anchored our dinghies off the beach and waded ashore. Several people were
in the water cooling off. A big black ray swam over to them, probably
begging for scraps. An second, smaller grey ray also came by. We sat at a
picnic table under the shade and enjoyed our snack. Before we knew it, it
was 4:45pm. So we raced back to the boat. Several boats had
re-anchored nearby to attend the party. Surprisingly, they would move back
to their old spots by the end of the night. Valt decided to go fetch
some firewood for the bonfire. He took his saws-all over to Hamburger Beach
where some casuarinas trees had fallen in a windstorm some years back and cut
several big chunks to load into his boat. We would be an hour late,
but our wood donation would extend the night. I packed a platter of
smoked sausage and sliced cheese along with some wine and we were off. Of
course, the food was all gone when we arrived, so the hoard descended on my
platter like starving dogs. A black "pirate" looking sailboat was in the
harbour with 4 or 5 young people. They brought their fiddle, squeeze box,
and singing voices to entertain us with bawdy Irish ditties. When the last
person had gone, we snuffed out the fire and went on home ourselves.
It was hard to believe it was only 9:45pm. Boaters' midnight.
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