Bequia had started to grow, which meant an increasing demand for electricity. The power station did not have the to capacity to deal with the added load, and most evenings, usually just after sunset, the power would cut. This was frustrating for us, we needed electricity during the dinner rush, so we invested some of our hard-earned dollars in a big generator.
The generator was placed in a wooden shack between our house and the Pizzeria. Each time the power went out Mac would run down the hill to start the generator for me. It was noisy but I was grateful for it!
One night the power went off and Mac, leaping down the hill barefooted to start the generator, stepped on a large centipede. The venomous insect, which was a good 12 inches long, wrapped itself around Mac’s ankle and bit him repeatedly.
I could hear Mac screaming in agony and dropped what I was doing to see what was happening. The staff and customers all followed me up the hill to where Mac was frantically trying to shake the centipede off. It had locked itself tightly around his ankle and wasn’t letting go. I can’t recall how we got it off, I assume some brave soul pried it loose.
Mac had an allergic reaction to the toxic venom, the centipede had bitten him several times and his ankle was covered with puncture marks. There was no Doctor on the Island to administer an antihistamine, we had to let nature take its course. The poor man was in so much pain he howled like a wounded bear all night.
Mac’s foot swelled steadily for three days, and it was such a sight that people came from all over the Island to gawk. It looked just like the udders of a cow that hadn’t been milked for three days, and I have to admit that I laughed just like everyone else whenever I looked at it! From then on Mac wore shoes to start the generator.