Jun 122013
 

Sometime today, supposedly, or at least later this week, Paul Arthur Labombard and the former owners of this marina will swap spit, cut a fatted calf, and burn some plant of questionable legality.  When it is all over, Labombard, aka Pritam Singh, will become king turd of shit island.  What happens next is anyone’s guess.

Last night, there were small groups of residents, marina employees, and assorted hangers on, gathered around small campfires, sharpening their cutlasses and polishing cannons, in preparation for the battle to come.  A battle that all know will be a losing one.  Once all the papers are signed, the t’s dotted, the i’s crossed, Labombard will come storming in with his minions to crush us all and destroy our will.  Where once there was a thriving marina, with live aboards, businesses, fisherman, and happy people, there will nothing but smoke, ashes, and broken dreams left behind….just kidding.  Nobody has a clue what is going to happen.  Other than it ain’t gonna be good.

As I write this the soon to be former office manager is putting up caution tape and warning signs around the fuel pumps.  The bait shop will be closed all day during the closing.  The soon to be former other employees are nervous as hell.  They all sense that their happy little “secure” jobs will be gone soon, and they are right.

Rumors continue to fly.  It’s seems a given that the big boat storage building will be the first to go.  Along with several small businesses.  The residents don’t seem too concerned as of yet.  But I did spot one girl who was loading up her jeep and a small trailer with what looked like all her belongings.  A sure sign of moving out.   I have no idea what will become of me.  I know I am good at least to the end of June, otherwise somebody will be refunding some rent money.  Beyond that, I will take it day to day.  As long as there is no interference, as long as we have access to our slips, the bathhouse and such, and the rent doesn’t go up, I will hang on until I can maneuver the hell out of here.  i would have already done so, had I been able to find something more better.  I’m quite tired of the circus that has been going on and would much rather live someplace a little more serene.

My iPhone wifi continues to not work, (It appears to be the fault of the last update to 6.1.3 as others are having the same issue.  And Apple ain’t fixing it.), so I am dependent on the free hot spot in the marina.  I have no doubts that will vanish.  Labombard gives me the impression that he don’t give nothing for free.  Without some sort of affordable internet, I am dead in the water for the app business.  I can go back to the pricey hotspot for $80 a month with those damdable data caps, but I would rather find a more suitable place.  I really would prefer to just sell the boat outright and find another, or a rv, or an apartment, even if it means going up to Marathon for a while.  Except, the charter business may pick up and I would need to be here almost daily to do that captain stuff.  The upside of that is more money coming in which would give me options later on.  Putting the boat on the hard for the summer, doing what I can to fix it, maybe sell it when I am in a better financial position are all possibilities.

As it is, something is going to happen sooner or later.  I don’t look at it as anything bad, other than Labombard snatching up yet another piece of the islands, but just going in a different direction.  No matter where I end up, I assume it will be short term anyways.  Anything more than a year in one residence is a rarity for me.  At least I ain’t stuck where I am.  None the less, I will be sharpening up the ole cutlass today.

Capt. Fritter

  2 Responses to “The Day Of Reckoning Is At Hand…”

  1. supposedly these are ‘astute’ businessmen in this MAJOR undertaking. you would think the powers that be would have some kind of time line. it seems so doubly nasty to me that they always do their business in almost a cloak of secrecy. and yet their business affects the lives of so many people who could at least be helped a bit by knowing when the axe is going to fall. but it’s always such a big secret. just as in leslie’s case. until it was to the showdown point. and by then … well.
    I know.
    nobody promised you a rose garden.
    but come on.
    ever choking weeds? enough.

    • We, the great unwashed, are not privy to such business ventures that are no doubt beyond the ability of our puny minds to even attempt to comprehend.
      We are to shut up, sit still, and wait for our lords and masters to tell us in simpler terms what is to be.
      To even think that our lives or opinions even matter one small bit is nothing more than a point of amusement to these people. We count for nothing except for what we can do for them so they may have more, and we less.
      C. F.