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. (We’ve been pretty lucky this season. Most fronts haven’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. It’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 “mutton” for the trip to Nassau.
Otherwise, time here is pretty meaningless. There really isn’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.)