It occurs to me that in striving to relate events I have not given the Jumentos a fair description. They defy sequential narrative. If you want to truly lose track of time, this is the place to be. Take a deep breath. Exhale slo-o-o-owly.
Here you do want to keep track of when fronts are coming through. (Weâ€™ve been pretty lucky this season. Most fronts havenâ€™t come as far south as us. But they caught up with us here.)
You also want to keep track of when the mail boat comes. Itâ€™s three out of every four weeks. The boat stops at Buena Vista to pick Edward up if he wants a lift to Ragged Island. Sometimes the crew tows a tender. On the way back they may motor in at Hog Cay and shoot a goat or two so they can have â€œmuttonâ€ for the trip to Nassau.
Otherwise, time here is pretty meaningless. There really isnâ€™t much to buy or sell. There is nothing here but sun, moon, stars, wind, waves, and the beings that bathe in them.
(Not Pictured: Phosphorescent bacteria. These bioluminescent cells wink on and off at night in the waters of the Jumentos. Fun to watch as you pee off the side of the boat.)