Billionaires

Billionaires anchored in our cove last weekend. On Saturday morning, the lab director called me on my cell phone and said, "Can you meet me at the dock in 10 minutes to help show some visitors around? Oh, and make sure you look nice."

The S/Y Antara

It had been several days since my last shower, but 10 minutes didn't leave me enough time for that. So, I sprinted up to the staff house, applied deodorant, washed my face, brushed my hair, put on a (clean, thank goodness!) staff shirt, and a belt. I knew I had packed a belt for a reason! Down to the dock I went to await the arrival of the billionaires.

Turns out, they were quite nice: a British husband, an American wife, a very polite 14-year-old son. (I'm fairly certain that the wife's sunglasses cost more than my car.) The captain, first mate, and chef came ashore too. They didn't even mind when our Sharks instructor starting pulling smelly, half-dissected sharks out of a cooler!

We invited them to stay for lunch, but they declined. I don't blame them. Who would want to eat soup & salad in a cafeteria with a bunch of college students when they had this to go back to?