I am having a horrible day. My keyboard is strewn with tears as I write this. I am not sure how much I have mentioned to you before about my friend Peter. Well…  I just finished doing mouth to mouth resuscitation on him… to no avail.

I met this sailor dude down here in Antigua about two months ago. His name is Peter and he is sailing on a vessel called Bershert. He is this older American guy, recently retired from the American coast guard, he taught at the Naval academy he tells everyone he meets. He has this thick New York accent and is like a big tough guy but brimming with honor and integrity. We are the two lonely solo sailors down here and we met at the Sunday dominoes game and we just hit it off. We just clicked right away and have been hanging out ever since. We are very close friends.

His engine on his boat is completely broken and he needs it completely rebuilt. The engine block is in the middle of his yacht on the floor. He has been having trouble down here trying to get it rebuilt for the last two months. This has been causing him a great deal of stress. Unfortunately it has also held him captive in Falmouth Harbour Antigua for the last three months. So as I have been free to sail around on WildChild my friend Peter is stuck in Falmouth always awaiting my return.

We text with each other everyday and I always share my adventures with my closest friend. I am always arranging my sailing to be able to come back down to Falmouth to hang out with Peter as much as I can, I worry about him. When I am down here I always anchor right beside him because we hang out together everyday. I feel safe around him. Peter is a tough guy… but a very honorable guy.

I love to play chess but I can never find anyone to play chess with me. Peter said right away… “sure baby… I’m not very good at it but you can kick my ass in chess all you want..“. So it began just like that. I taught Peter about the sailor ritual of celebrating the sunset every evening up on your deck with a rum punch (commonly called a sundowner) and just being grateful for another day in the promised land. No matter where I was I always texted with Peter as we each sat up on our decks and saluted the sunset together.

 

 

When I am in Falmouth near Peter we hang out every evening together. We take turns celebrating the sunset together every evening either on my yacht or his. I have been down here in Falmouth for the past week so Peter and I have been hanging out everyday. I got him to come snorkeling with Brendan and I about 5 days ago. Peter came for the last hike I did across the middle ground and he stood guard over my body when I passed out climbing the slopes. When I came to, disoriented and confused, Peter was standing above me, his legs blocking me from being able to tumble down the hill, and his powerful voice assuring me I was safe..  “I got you hun… you’re always safe with me..” as his words penetrate the fog of my brain as I return to consciousness.

Last night (Sunday Feb28th 2021) I had Peter over again, as it was my turn to host, and we celebrated the sunset together on the deck of WildChild. He was a bit uncomfortable, he had just come from shore where he ate the big steak dinner they served above the yacht club Sunday night. Peter did not really cook for himself too much, he lived mostly on sandwiches and food he bought onshore from Barbies restaurant almost everyday.

I could not get Peter to just sit still beside me as we watched the sunset, he was pacing my side deck and wanted to stand. He said his stomach was uncomfortable. Right after sunset Peter rushed me down into the cockpit, “...come on hun… I wanna play chess…  I can’t wait for you to kick my ass again…“. He set out the table as I went below to get the chess board. I tell Peter every time that I am poor and have no money so if you wanna drink you have to BYOB. Peter showed up again with nothing but his smile and says to me  “… so… what do you have for me to drink…“. I offer him juice and chide him about drinking what little booze I have onboard. He pushes… “come on.. don’t get cheap on me hunny… I know you gotta have something onboard...” he says in his insistent way. I had an old bottle of Tequila that Elena left onboard. I passed it up to Peter and gave him a bottle of juice to mix it with. He drank half that bottle last night, Peter drinks everyday. He did recently quit smoking though.

We played a lovely game of chess and Peter is getting much better by leaps and bounds. He really matched me piece for piece for over an hour. We talked as we always do, he retells his stories of his old glory days long gone. He seemed in a much better mood. He was depressed yesterday about the state of his yacht and trying to get his taxes done. He thanked me for being his friend and said I helped him pull up out of his dour mood.

About halfway thru our chess game Peter stopped and looked up at me and just said  “ …Lexi… you and me are going to be friends for the rest of our lives… no like I mean real good close friends…  there are not a lot of people I truly call my friend but you are definitely one of them….“. I kind laughed off his seriousness a little bit and said “of course Peter… no worries… you and me are tight…  I will always be your friend…“. I feel very safe around Peter, he is my closest friend right now. I can come to him and share anything and know I am in a safe place with him. I couldn’t imagine my world without him.

He started talking about maybe putting his boat up on the hard and going home for a while until his engine gets rebuilt. It was depressing him living like this. He used to complain… “this is no way for anyone to live… I think I will go home for a while and rethink things…“. I always encourage him and always offer to help him in anyway I can. I don’t want to see my friend fail at this dream… I don’t want to see him quit… but…  I can tell…. Peter is not cut out for this life. He doesn’t have what it takes to be a sailing Captain out here. Not all sailing dreams turn out well.

This morning I texted Peter a good morning as I always do. He was slow to reply. I was all excited about how well my new rainwater collectors were working in the heavy rains this morning. I also was so excited that I made $40 in book sales this month, a record for me. I was having a great day and wanted to share it with my friend. I was going to invite him to come to shore with me today.

At 12:06pm Peter replied  “i’m sick i’m just laying in bed hoping that I get better I don’t want to talk right now I need the rest”

I cheerfully said okay and let him know that if he needs anything I am right here and will happily come over.

He said  “I’m really sick so I need the rest“.

I asked him… “Covid…?  seems sudden…  you seemed fine yesterday..”

He replied back with “not Covid, heart or food not sure which“…

I told him again… “if you need anything I am right here”

At 1:39pm he sent me his last text reply   “Thanks“.

At around 3:25pm today I decided to dinghy over and check in on Peter. I wanted to return a screw driver bit I had borrowed and see how he was feeling. I was worried about him.

 

I rode my dingy over to Bershert in the sunshine and under blue skies. I tied it up to the back of Bershert as I always do and climbed aboard announcing myself loudly. It is very rude to board someone’s vessel without an invitation but Peter and I are very close friends, he told me many times I was always welcome aboard anytime baby. The companionway was open and his stuff was around in the messy way he liked to live.

I came downstairs still loudly calling his name… “Peter… hey Peter… its Lexi… Peter… hey man… it just me… PETER…” to no response. He must be really sick I thought as my worry level kept rising by the minute. I could see his arm hanging over the edge of the bed so I knew where he was. I approached my friend slowly and carefully still calling him loudly. Still no response.

When I got over to him he seemed… seemed like not right. Not cold and blue… still warm and pink…  but.. like in a coma or something. Fear runs thru me. I am terrified. This is a bad scene fast. I am shaking Peter and checking for a pulse and I cannot find one. I check for breathing and find no breath. I check his chest for signs of motion, it is still. I try to check his carotid artery for a pulse and find nothing. I start to cry. My world begins to shatter as it dawns on me…  just like that…  a few days after his 66th birthday… my friend Peter just died. He died alone in his bed. He must have been having the symptoms of a heart attack and didn’t recognize them.

I called my friend on SV Roxy and Mark agrees to come over. He brings a defibrillator kit with him.

Mark hooks it up and we begin doing CPR but it is clear… Peters body is already going stiff and cold now. His lips are blue…  I am doing mouth to mouth resuscitation and Mark is doing the chest compressions…. the kit detects no heart beat and does not recommend shocking his heart.

We keep doing CPR for about 20 minutes until the local search and rescue people arrive.

It is clear…. Peter is dead. I am going hysterical and I cannot think straight… cannot see straight. I am not okay with this… I want my friend back. Dear Peter I beg him… please please come back…  but he is gone… just like that…

 

The search and rescue people arrive and I get them tied up to Bershert. There is an ER nurse onboard and she comes aboard right away. I can tell though… this has already gone bad an hour ago.

 

They go in with him but it doesn’t take the nurse long to realize its done. She calls for a backboard and they decide to get Peter out of there and to a hospital. There is nothing anyone can do for him here. It takes quite an effort to get Peter out, it takes 6 people to move him thru his messy boat.

It takes a lot of effort and I keep bursting into tears and going hysterical. I am in shock… just like that… my friend is dead….   I keep repeating to nobody in Particular that…  “I can fix anything… but I can’t fix dead…   Peter you can’t die on me… I can’t fix dead…”  Everyone else is so calm and professional. I am a mess. I do not agree to let my friend go. I am not happy about this.

I help load my dear friend onto the rescue boat and kiss him gently on the forehead and say goodbye. I start saying prayers for him… for his soul… to ease his way into a heaven he didn’t believe in.

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I tell this story in all love and kindness and with all respect for my dear friend. I am the closest person to Peter down here. I have no way to contact his friends and family back home. I feel that Peters friends and Family deserve to know about the last chapter of Peter’s life. I include pictures of today not to be morbid but to help his family be here with him, to know what happened, to know this is not a hoax.

I know that Peters good friend Anne reads my blogs and I hope that she can spread the word back in America for me. Anne please email me.

I need to know what to do with Peters boat… Peters stuff?

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I have a lot of crying to do. I am too young to be losing friends like this. Peter is only 1 year out from his retirement just beginning to live his dream. The man worked hard his whole life for this dream and dies after the first leg of the adventure.

My tears are streaming down on the keyboard right now….  the sun has just set… I am supposed to be playing Chess with my friend Peter right now on his boat. I think I am still in shock.

Peter recently discovered and loves Coconut Rum….  To all of us who knew and loved Peter…  lets raise a glass of coconut Rum to say good-bye to our dear friend…

 

Cheers Peter….

 

so sorry I didn’t come over sooner today…

 

 

Captain Lexi

…. the extremely sad today….