Manpot's Tales of the Tropics (3 page)

Thank you Quito.

Floyd, L'Amour and their adorable black lab Leon
lived a life of domestic bliss in Manhattan. The time was the late
sixties and this openly gay couple enjoyed the "live and let live"
attitude that blossomed during that time of "peace, love and flower
power".

Life was good for them…but they yearned to travel to
a new exotic locale and get away from the hectic New York lifestyle
for a while.

They heard of a little island in the Caribbean named
"Tortola"...and of a tiny hotel on the north shore run by a rebel
priest and his wife. It sounded perfect to Floyd and L'Amour.

They finally tracked down a post office box for the
hotel, "Sebastian's", and mailed a letter.

This was long before telephones had reached Tortola's
North Shore. A few weeks later they got a response from a very
proper Bostonian lady, Elizabeth McKenna...

Yes...she and her husband Warren would be delighted
to have them as guests...but they had to realise life was pretty
basic on Tortola in the area they called "the country". Along with
no telephones there was no electricity and roads that were barely
more than donkey tracks.

Perfect thought Floyd and L'Amour.

But there was one problem…neither of the guys wanted
to leave their beloved pooch behind. If they were going to this
Tortola place, Leon had to go with them. And that created another
problem…

The only way a dog that big could fly with them in
the cabin of the plane was if he was a seeing eye dog. And that
required one of them….to be blind.

Now both Floyd and L'Amour had perfect 20/20 vision
but….L'Amour decided that he would try to be the "sightless one" so
they could take Leon with them on their grand adventure to this
exotic, far off little island.

So every day, for the next few weeks, Floyd, L'Amour
and Leon would head into Central Park.

And there L'Amour would practice "being blind".

At first it was very difficult and L'Amour would find
himself sneaking a peak through his blinking eyes…or Leon would
decide to dash off after another dog with L'Amour hanging on for
dear life.

It was not very convincing.

"It is not easy being blind, "L'Amour confided to
Floyd over martinis one night, in the understatement of the
century. It may not have been easy but L'Amour was a man on a
mission.

He would learn to play a convincing sightless
person.

Finally, as the day of departure drew near, L'Amour
and Leon had managed to work out an act almost convincing enough.
To the casual observer L'Amour seemed sightless and Leon performed
almost well enough to persuade folks that he was a real guide
dog.

The day finally arrived...the cab was called and the
motley crew headed to JFK where they would catch a flight to St
Thomas. From there it was a short cab ride to the dock and then a
ferry ride to Tortola.

In these days before airport security, the TSA, and
fear that everyone boarding a plane was a mad bomber, things went
amazingly smoothly.

The trio boarded the plane…L'Amour convincingly
allowed Leon to lead him down the aisle to his seat helped by the
ever attentive Floyd.

They settled in their seats with Leon snoozing at
L'Amour's feet.

The "blind man", his "guide dog" and his best friend
were off on the grand adventure.

All went well. They arrived safely in St Thomas,
Floyd picked up the bags for his "sightless partner" and an hour
later they were skimming over the azure waters of the Caribbean
towards the dock, where the very proper Elizabeth, hair perfectly
coiffed, waited with her battered Jeep. Floyd and L'Amour
immediately dubbed her "Sister" Elizabeth.

They all climbed aboard the Jeep….and finally L'Amour
could stop being blind.

They told Warren and "Sister" Elizabeth their wild
tale over cocktails that night, sipped by candlelight at the
water's edge of beautiful Little Apple Bay, Tortola. They had no
choice about the candlelight as there was no electricity.

Everyone laughed and howled….and Leon dashed up and
down the beach...and through the village chasing chickens.

Life was very good.

The trio spent their days swimming and sunning in
this unknown paradise and, just before cocktail hour, the guys
would inquire what outfit "Sister" Elizabeth would be wearing for
dinner. Every night Floyd and L'Amour seemed to have the perfect
attire to compliment "Sister" Elizabeth's.

Warren and Elizabeth would create the most amazing
dishes served by candlelight every night….fresh lobster, kingfish,
breadfruit and vegetables from local gardens. It was simple…and it
was wonderful.

Over the two weeks of their memorable stay a strong
bond built between the flamboyant guests...their lovely dog...and
Warren and Elizabeth.

On their final night Floyd and L'Amour announced they
would be cooking dinner that night as their "thank you" to their
hosts.

Shortly before dinnertime "Sister" Elizabeth strolled
into the kitchen to behold, what she would describe years later as
"a lobster explosion". Nonetheless Floyd and L'Amour served up a
wonderful lobster salad...and then poor Elizabeth spent the rest of
the evening cleaning up "the explosion."

But nobody cared...life was wonderful for Warren and
his lovely wife...and for this crazy gay couple and their
free-spirited dog.

The final day of their stay came too soon for
everyone...hugs and kisses were exchanged and many tears were shed
as the St Thomas ferry pulled away from the dock.

Then reality hit L'Amour…he had to be blind
again.

Everything went pretty well as they cruised from
Tortola's West End to St Thomas' main port of Charlotte
Amalie….that is until Leon got a little "mal de mer."

Thinking he wanted just to be affectionate "blind"
L'Amour let Leon climb onto his lap…..and right then and there Leon
deposited the very considerable contents of his tummy all over
L'Amour.

Now L'Amour's natural reaction was to leap to his
feet...run to the ferry's tiny head and clean himself up. But, just
in the nick of time he remembered..." I am blind."

By now Leon was trying to clean up his master...and
Floyd was wiping poor L'Amour down. There wasn’t even anything for
L'Amour to change into as the luggage was stashed on the stern of
the ferry.

Poor L'Amour had to make it through immigration and
customs before Floyd could retrieve their luggage and he could
change into something clean.

Washed down, spruced up and smelling strongly of Brut
aftershave L'Amour, Leon and Floyd headed out to the taxi stand.
The lone cabbie took one look at the big black dog and got a whiff
of the pungent, over Brut-ed L'Amour, and announced in no uncertain
terms that they would not be welcome in his cab.

Floyd explained his partner was "blind" and that Leon
was his "seeing eye dog" but the cabbie would not budge….that is
until a couple of "quality ladies" of "questionable repute"
overheard the conversation.

The next thing anyone knew the "ladies" had the
cabbie pinned against his vehicle as they waved their sun umbrellas
threateningly at him. The cabbie relented…L'Amour and Floyd kissed
the "ladies" and gave them something for their trouble...and all
three climbed aboard the cab.

Things seemed to be back on track and an hour later
L'Amour and Floyd were enjoying a rum punch in "Sparky's Sky
Lounge" at St Thomas Airport while Leon contentedly slurped a
saucer of water.

The flight was announced and the threesome, with
L'Amour led by the arm and Leon, headed across the hot tarmac for
their flight back to New York City.

They were sad to be leaving but they'd had a
wonderful time ...and managed to bring Leon along. The "blind act"
had worked almost perfectly.

But, about an hour out of New York, things started to
change. L'Amour had been dozing when he heard the captain announce
they would be making an "unscheduled stop" in Baltimore.

Moments later, the plane started to descend.

Although L'Amour was still "officially blind" he
opened his eyes a crack behind his sun glasses and saw a sight
he'll never forget. Everyone on the plane was staring at him, and
Leon, with a look of pure hatred in their eyes. They obviously
believed his beloved "seeing eye dog" was solely responsible for
this "unscheduled stop".

L'Amour closed his eyes tight and hoped for the
best.

The plane landed on a snow covered runway and taxied
off to a waiting area (remember this was the sixties...long before
"airbridges" connected terminals to planes.) Stairs were brought up
to the plane and Leon did nothing to help the trio's causes when he
darted for the opening plane door...shot down the stairs and
promptly made a huge circle of yellow snow.

Now everyone was convinced the plane had been forced
to land because of Leon's "call of nature". The reality was the
same snow storm that had dumped on Baltimore had briefly closed
down JFK and that was the reason they landed. Not one of those
passengers would have believed it. That damn "seeing eye dog" and
his master were the problem.

After a while everyone re boarded the plane and it
was obvious L'Amour, Leon and Floyd were in everyone's, pardon the
pun….doghouse.

The plane finally landed in JFK and the threesome
could not have been happier to put some serious distance between
themselves and their fellow passengers.

Only when they were in the cab heading back to
Manhattan did L'Amour dare to open his eyes. He had become pretty
good at navigating through the terminal as a "blind man". He felt
maybe this was some sort of eternal punishment.

If it was...this group had one more thing to ponder.
They entered their lovely apartment to find their kitchen scorched.
Soot and smoke were everywhere. Anything that hadn't been damaged
by fire or smoke now had a deep acrid smell.

Floyd and L'Amour quickly found the source of all
this destruction….someone had left the coffee pot on…two long weeks
ago.

Of course, that's what happens when you leave a
"blind man" to turn off the appliances.

Weeks later life was back to normal for Floyd,
L'Amour and Leon. The apartment was repainted, refurbished and
smoke free. L'Amour swore he'd never play "blind" again...and Leon
was happy to give up his "guide dog" duties and just romp around
Central Park as a "normal" hound.

But one thing Floyd and L'Amour did promise…they
would return to that magic island but maybe...just maybe...this
time Leon would have to stay in Manhattan and L'Amour would be able
to catch every amazing sight without fear of being busted.

They were the boys of summer….a hot summer in the
sixties when they stood shoulder to shoulder with Martin Luther
King to bring freedom and civil rights to the South. Their homes
were firebombed by the Klan...their leader was killed...but they
fought for that freedom and change.

Now it’s another summer day...far, far away...July 4,
2002 on the white sands of Little Apple Bay on the Caribbean island
of Tortola...

For more than thirty years these boys of summer have
celebrated this day when America shines a beacon of freedom by
lighting their own beacon…a bonfire from collected driftwood and
palm fronds...

On this day the men collected a huge pile in the
middle of the sand...close enough to the water so the high tide
would carry away the burnt embers later. They wiped their
sweat-streaked faces and sipped cold beers as they admired their
work…The trade winds blew, the tropical sun beat down and life was
good for these history makers...

That’s when the “man from the hill” ran panting into
the picture...This man lives in a home that hangs precariously over
the bay. There he holds cocktail parties for his influential pals
from Washington DC and Broadway.