The days of easy and free wifi are gone. Our memory of BVI as a place that has wifi at every mooring is just that, a memory. So in order to get some work done (and, of course, continue updating our regular readers) I was given a mission: procure a mobile hotspot.
We pulled up to the end of a dock at the Moorings facility. We didn’t know it at the time, but it happened to be their fuel dock. The dock manager graciously allowed us to stay, but asked that we be gone in an hour. We decide to divide and conquer. Roger stayed with the boat to wait for the maintenance guy who was coming to solve some minor issues. Our friends went to the store for further provisions (this usually means more rum and more cheese given our current diets). And I set off on my own to find a hotspot.
I first tried to find a Moorings office, to ask someone where the best place to look would be. Because we didn’t have access to the internet, I couldn’t employ my typical solution – Google. I set off through the Moorings facility, marveling at the size and number of catamarans they now have. Simply massive boats big enough to have full-size teak picnic sets on a deck above the cockpit. There were beautiful shining boats galore, but no office. So I kept on walking toward the grocery store. Surely, where there is one store there must be another, right?
Not really. There was just a grocery store, liquor store, and gas station. Fortunately for me, a group of police officers were on the sidewalk, apparently handing out tickets to jaywalkers (like our friends who had just scampered over to the store). As I approached, one officer asked me if I would like to cross the street. I said no and told him of my mission.
“I’m looking to purchase a mobile hotspot, do you know where I could do that?”
“I think you need to go to the Lime office, wouldn’t you?”
“Probably.” I continued to just stand there, expectantly.
“Do you know where that is?”
“No. Do you?”
He laughed and said, “of course.” He signaled to his compatriots, a younger man and woman also in uniform. It seemed that he was getting ready to leave.
“Can you tell me how to get there, please?”
“I’m giving you a ride.”
And with that, I climbed into the back of the kind officer’s car. With barely another word spoken, he chauffeured me to the door of the Lime office at which I successfully purchased the very mobile hotspot that made this post possible.
We can tell a lot of stories about diving, beaches, and rum drinks that differentiate life on a boat from life in Reno. For me though, it’s this kind of story that illustrates the biggest difference. I was completely out of my element, wandering lost on the street, searching for a tool that we need, and pressured by a time limit. I had absolutely no clue how I was going to succeed until a total stranger took pity on me. Without his help, I never would have pulled it off. (And without my distraction, our friends may have gotten a jaywalking ticket.)