Heat

Having grown up in Canada, the heat of the tropics took some getting used to. I wasn’t accustomed to such relentless sunshine, and would become unbearably hot as the day progressed.  I found the high school’s small, windowless classrooms stifling; by lunchtime the rooms felt like roasting ovens, the galvanized roof aiding and abetting the blazing sun, and I often moved my restless students outside in order to teach them under the branches of a shade tree. I always had a swimsuit in my backpack, and after school I would take the long way home to Friendship, stopping for dips in the sea along the way.

The years passed and I more or less got used to the heat. My life was spent in close proximity to pizza ovens set at 550 degrees; if the kitchen became unbearably hot I simply jumped in the sea to cool off, grateful that Mac’s was located conveniently close to the water. When the trade winds blew during the winter months the heat eased off a bit, but those hot, humid summer months could be pretty brutal! Having the sea at my doorstep was a luxury I took for granted – it was always there for instant heat relief.

One year Nik and I were flying home from Canada in our Cessna, and stopped in Ocala Florida to visit with friends for a while. We had been instructed to simply walk across the street when we arrived; our friends trained and sold race horses, and would be at the Ocala Breeders Sales facility that day, a venue conveniently located close to the airport. That sounded easy enough, and I was looking forward to seeing them again soon.

Well, Ocala Florida in the month of August beat Bequia hands down when it came to HEAT! When I stepped out of our little Cessna the hot, humid air hit me like the proverbial sledgehammer, and standing on the broiling tarmac wasn’t helping matters. Nik and I quickly scooted into the blessedly cool general aviation building, then braved the heat again to cross the street. The Breeders Sales facility was huge, and the parking lot jammed with vehicles – the upcoming auction was obviously a very big deal. Trying to find our friends between hundreds of people and race horses was like trying to find a needle in a hay stack, and the longer we searched for them the hotter I got. My clothes became limp, damp with sweat from the heat; it was extremely humid, and I became increasingly uncomfortable in the burning sun. With no sea nearby to offer relief I chose a near-by sprinkler, and stood under its cool spray amidst the horse people, people who appeared quite comfortable in their Stetson hats.

A quarter of a century has passed since that hot and humid day in Florida. Between my advancing years and global warming Bequia seems much hotter than it did when I first arrived in the 70’s, and whenever I feel that I’ve never in my life been so hot I remember that day in Ocala and laugh. That for SURE was the worst heat I’ve ever experienced.

On Bequia I don’t need a sprinkler for heat relief, I have the sea at my doorstep, a luxury I’ve learned NOT to take for granted!