It was time to start building a home of our own, the girls were growing up quickly and it would be nice to have it completed before they got much bigger. We had purchased the land, a large plot overlooking Admiralty Bay, and Mac had spent almost a year planting every fruit tree imaginable. He had decided where the house would be situated, and we turned to an architect friend to design it for us.
Mario Spinelli was an Italian architect living and working on mainland St. Vincent. He and his wife Kym had an office behind the Green Boley Bar, and as they came to Bequia often we had come to know them well. Mario had designed and overseen construction of the beautiful Gingerbread complex for Son Mitchell, and after touring some of his projects on the mainland Mac and I asked Mario to design our home, he was obviously a very talented architect.
Mac intended to build the house himself. He had enjoyed building the Pizzeria and had a good eye for detail, but I was apprehensive about his lack of experience. It would certainly save money to oversee the construction ourselves, and Mac was confident that he was up to the task, but a large house was a lot more complex than the little wooden restaurant he had built! Mario expressed concern as well, telling Mac that the building’s architect should be involved from start to finish. Once we looked at Mario’s figures, the amount we would save by building the house without him was quite substantial and that was the deciding factor. Mac would build the house.
Mario drew a fabulous plan, I recall gulping when I saw it for the first time. The blueprints were intricate, showing the house from all angles, and I could see that our home would be magnificent. As soon as Mac examined the blueprints he began making changes, and whenever he did so his explanation made sense. The original plan consisted of four buildings surrounding an inner courtyard, and Mac decided that he didn’t want the children’s bedrooms to be so far removed from ours. He also felt that the front buildings would block the view from their porch. We had plenty of land, why not simply move the children’s quarters over so that it was close to our own sleeping quarters? Not a bad idea. Mac also changed the position of the kitchen so that it would offer a view while I cooked, which again was a good move. I started to be less apprehensive, Mac had an artistic streak that I had grown to trust and appreciate, and he seemed confident in his new role as a contractor!
When it came to the building materials Mac was very choosy. He didn’t like the galvanized roofing sold on the mainland and started to investigate the importation of steel tile roofing (soundproof if you please!) from Canada. He also decided that the wood for the roof would be Canadian pine, if he was going to the trouble and expense of importing the steel tile he may as well import the wood at the same time. He wanted non-skid red clay tiles from Venezuela for the outdoor porches, and tiles from Martinique for the interior. The list was long and it wasn’t going to be cheap, right down to the double sinks and bidets for the bathrooms!
We had one minor problem. We had spent every dollar we had buying the land and there was nothing left for the building of any kind of house, let alone the house Mac wanted to build. The tourist season back then was very short, Christmas ‘til Easter, and once Easter was over that was IT. If you hadn’t saved enough money during the winter months you were in for a long, dry summer. Business during the off-season was dreadful, yet I still had to have food prepared, still needed to pay my staff and my light bill, and by September I would be scrounging for money to stock up on lobster. Money for the house? It simply wasn’t there.
With our land deed in hand we went to see the Manager of Barclay’s, the Island’s one and only bank. Mario Spinelli had given us an indication of what the house would cost to build, and I had spent a long time typing out an expense sheet for the bank. I had never mortgaged anything before and it was a real eye-opener for me, especially the part where the bank’s lawyers, who I never met, got a huge chunk of the loan before it made its way to Mac and me. We eventually got our loan (minus the legal fees), and Mac promptly started to spend it on the materials needed to build our dream home. Our dream home that was destined to cost twice as much as the estimate, and would belong to Barclay’s Bank for twenty years!