Waiting on the container

The container should be here; the shipment from Uncle Eneil in New Orleans (which includes a peddle boat) should be here; the internet access via Skyweb should be here: but, of course, none of them are. This is Jamaica. No problem. We have Mark Lobban from MPS shipping in London working on trying to find where our container has got to, and we have Fred Mundy in the UPS office in New Orleans trying to work out why our peddle boat is sitting in a warehouse in Kingston, instead of on the sea shore here. The good news is that as I started to write this blog, the guys from Skyweb arrived. They’re fixing a satellite dish facing towards the hills behind Montego Bay where a mast will connect us to the rest of the world. In just a few minutes I may be able to sit here on the patio, facing the open sea and wirelessly publish this blog. This has been such a long-cherished dream of mine that, along with the almost full moon rising, it almost makes up for the fact that 131 boxes inside a container haven’t turned up.
To be honest, part of me is relieved. The thought of heaving those 131 boxes off the container and into their designated spots would have been a daunting prospect straight off the plane – even with the help of Shelley and Hamish who came out specifically to help us negotiate the container, and have now returned to London without lifting a box in anger.
Instead we did a lot of cleaning, painting and general repairing. And eating. We’ve done a lot of eating. On my birthday we went to the Houseboat, which is moored directly across the lagoon from us (conch fritters followed by grilled prawns with wild rice, topped off nicely with a chocolate soufflé). I might have gone for the lobster, but the previous evening History, the Rasta fisherman who looks after the place for us when we’re not here, barbequed about 10lb of lobster using only butter and garlic. Believe me, this is to die for.
Yesterday, Hamish’s last night, we went to the Plantation Inn, a beautiful restaurant about a mile out of town run by Paul Hurlock and his wife Jennifer. Paul was a professional musician during the hey-day of the north coast music scene in the 60s and 70s, before starting his restaurant project 30 years ago. He’s a charming man with a wide range of passions: he spent all evening at our table and we talked about everything from gazebo design using old 70s-style (ie huge) upturned satellite dishes for the roof, to the Rastafarian settlement in Ethiopia. Fabulous smoked marlin starter followed by jerked grey snapper.
We also managed the obligatory pit stop at the Pelican (a wonderful Mo Bay diner that hasn't changed in all the 26 plus years I've been coming to Jamaica)) where I consumed a chocolate milk shake followed by curried shrimp, Yard-style. In between, Hamish and Shelley made lots of raw vegetable salads supplemented by fried kingfish and patties from Miss Mell’s roadside bar. History followed up his first lobster dish with stewed lobster – the tails cooked in the shell in a soy-inspired sauce. Waiting for a container is a tough business.
Mr Campbell and his assistant from Skyweb were here for five hours installing the dish and wireless router. It was past 10 when they finally left. hey did a fantastic job, were extremely professional and really helpful. So we're finally online on the ocean.
PS The weather is unbelievably beautiful. My brother-in-law phoned today to say it was minus five in Birmingham. Hah!