A couple of our first trips to the Virgin Islands to
charter a sailboat were with my former sister-in-law Deb and her husband
Stan. My mother wasn't real happy about
us being friends with a former in-law.
She is all for her family and if you hurt one of them then you are on
her black list for a long time.
Stan and Deb were fun to go with. A little on the wild side that pushed the
limits Carole and I had. Stan is a great
mechanic. If it is broke he can fix
it. If he has never seen it he can still
fix it. One trip he rebuilt the
carburetor on the outboard while bouncing around in the dingy.
We had some great times but Stan was a prankster. Always pulling something and Carole is so
gullible he had lots of fun with her.
That was back in our serious beer drinking days. For some
reason we decided to go down the south side of St John. There isn't anything along that side of the
island and few charter boats went there.
We discovered we were out of beer and headed up into Coral Bay to buy
beer. Coral Bay needs to be on your
bucket list. It is known as the place
where people go when they find Key West too restrictive. Coral Bay has several bars but no grocery stores;
they are on the other side of the island.
We are desperate and buy a couple of six packs at bar prices to get us
back into St. Thomas. That hurt to pay
those kind of prices but a person has to do what a person has to do. Or if you are going to be stupid you better
be tough. And now you know where that
expression came from.
When we got back into the harbor the next day and
starting packing we found two cases of beer stored behind some stuff in a
compartment on the boat. We are mad,
mostly at ourselves for not checking there and for having any beer to enjoy on
the way back to the harbor. There was a
case of Budweiser (mine) and a case of Amstel Light (Stan's). I decide to leave the case of Bud to the dock
boys, maybe they will remember us next trip and be extra nice. Stan says hell no you can't buy Amstel Light
at home and am taking it with me. I
think it is a bad idea but if are going to be stupid....
Stan and Deb are divers and carry a lot of gear to the
islands (well it probably wasn't any more that what is required to keep you
alive for 30 minutes under the water).
Part of their dive gear is a big expensive camera that goes in the dive
bag. Stan just puts the beer in the dive
bag with all the other stuff and away we go to the airport. Well you know, just saying, beer isn't
weightless. So the dive bag is over the
limit and Stan has to fork out an additional $25.
At that time St Thomas didn't have a customs office. The airport was a WWII quasi hut with no A/C
but several bars. (It was really easy
back then to sail between islands. No
one cared which country you were in, you were just in the islands.) All of the flights went thru San Juan and
that where customs took place. Your bags
came out on a belt and you picked them up walked thru customs and put them on
another belt. To say the customs guys
were lax would be an understatement. They
were able to profile people back then and as long as you look like guy and his
wife on a vacation. They left you along.
Now if you had too many gold chains or miss babe was a little too hot
looking they went thru your bags from top to bottom. Carole and I clear with no problems. Deb come thru in a couple of minutes but no
Stan. Stan is waiting for the dive bag. All the bags are finally off the belt and no
dive bag. He comes on thru but is
worried about the bag. He says the guy
from American Airlines tell him "no problem man" them drunks at St
Thomas do it all the time. Your bag will
come on the next flight and the airline will deliver it to your house. He isn't real happy with that answer. What if them drunks get his camera and just
sell it in Coral Bay. The camera was
expensive and probably past what he could comfortably spend in those days.
The next day I call Deb and ask if she heard anything
from the airline. She says not a word
and that camera is beyond what the airline will pay if it is lost.
It is payback time!
I call my friend Mike Callahan. Now Mike and my dad are good friends also and
I know of the stunts they have pulled on each other. I ask Mike to call Deb and
tell her he is a customs agent and give her a hard time about the beer.
So Mike calls and introduces himself as a customs agent
in Atlanta. He asks if she has just
returned from a trip and where did she go. Deb has a bubbly personality and she
tells him a lot more than he asks for.
He asks if she enjoyed the trip and were the customs agents
friendly. So she tells him how wonderful
sailing was in the islands, how beautiful the water is and customs agents were
just great. Then Mike drops the bomb. "Let's not kid ourselves this is not a courtesy
call. You are in violation of the 1976
Brewery Protection Act. We have been
having a lot of problems with people violating this law and we are going to
make examples of violators. You are to appear in Federal Court in Atlanta on
August 11th." You could have a pin
drop across the phone line. The bubbly conversation is gone. All answers were yes sir, no sir, thank you
sir.
Mike calls me and tells me I need to call her and tell
her this is a joke because she has freaked out. It is the first day back at work I am busy
and it takes an hour or more before I call.
When I do, the first thing out of her mouth is "Oh my god Robert we
are going to prison". I asked “Why
are you in violation of the 1976 Brewery Protection Act? “ She knew she had
been had and I got a cussing. In between
the calls she had talked to Stan, they knew they were on the way to
prison. What was going to happen to the
kids? Who would take care of them? A great trip had become a disaster. They were scared. Their life was passing before their eyes. Stan
was trying to get in touch with his congressman.
Paybacks or revenge can be pure hell on you sometimes but
the can also be very sweet and make great stories to tell for the rest of your
life.
