Throwing Caution (& Other Stuff) to the Wind

DIVER DAN
Photo by Gabrielle Heggli of sv MASELLE

        If you’re an avid follower, you know that during hurricane season our vessel’s insurance requires us to be south of Latitude 14°10.  This year, we sailed Exit Strategy back to Kralendijk, Bonaire which is at Latitude 12°09.  Captain Dan, as usual, stayed on the boat for the most part and enjoyed diving and carousing with some old and new cruiser friends here.  Mean while, back on the farm in Southwestern Michigan, I was up to my elbows in family gatherings and good old gardening.
        When Dan leaves the boat for his short visit up to the Midwest, he cleans out the refrigerator-freezer, does any necessary laundry, pickles the watermaker, and employs standard mold/mildew preventing products around the interior. Upon his return, he shops to restore the basic food stuffs, but tends to do minimal cooking.  He’s actually a great, creative cook, but you know how it is to prepare something for just yourself and he’s not real fond of leftovers.

Granddaughters Genna & Maya with me at Van Auken Lake

        Two plus months later when I fly back to Exit Strategy, I find the boat beautifully clean inside and out.  It’s such a wonderful homecoming-  until I begin to organize something for us to eat on the first day.  At breakfast time, I locate the last of the pancake mix stowed in the recesses of the locker under the seat in the salon and examine it closely.  I don’t see any bugs, but it just doesn’t look good, so I toss it into the trash. “Pancake mix” becomes the first entry on my shopping list.
        At lunch time, I pull out a few forgotten chunks of cheese from the bottom of the refrigerator.  They have bits of green and white growning on them. Now-truth be told-  I’m not above cutting off the moldy surface and eating the inside part- although I’ve heard that that is not recommended.  (And I’m still alive to write about it after multiple occasions!)  BUT this time, I have no way of knowing just how long that cheese has been in the fridge.  I throw it out the galley porthole into the bay and make myself a PB&J to eat instead.  “Chunk & sliced cheese” is added to the list.
        Dinner prep reveals that the tiny paprika particles have grown legs, the granular beef boullion, the jerk spice, and the garlic powder have each melted into thick paste in their individual jars. The shopping list grows. 
        Luckily, twice a week there is a free shopping bus that takes cruisers to a large supermarket on the outskirts of Kralendijk.  So, with shopping list and many reusable bags in hand,  I wander around the store and stock up big time.  However, most of the labels are written in Dutch or Papiamento (Bonaire’s official language), so I do the best I can to identify items whose packaging don’t have pictures.  My cart is overflowing when I get to the checkout counter.

        The next day I planned to make chili mac and pulled out package of ground beef I had purchased at the supermarket.  I sauteed the onions and garlic until golden and then added the meat to brown.  After a few minutes, I noticed that it wasn’t browning like beef.  Then that luscious aroma of onion and garlic began to smell a bit off.  I retrieved the discarded meat wrapper to reread the label.  It read “CARNE (I know that means MEAT) MULA”.  When shopping, I assumed that “MULA” meant “minced”, as ground meat is often referred to down island.  It just didn’t smell right or look right.  I asked Dan to fire up his Translator App and guess what?

“CARNE MULA”  is MULE MEAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

        So what do you think we did?

Trunk Fish and French Grunt (Not supper)

        At dusk, I used the mule meat to chum the waters and caught some nice snapper for supper!