When a Caribbean publisher hired me to edit his weekly newspaper about a dozen years ago, one of the first things I learned was that the Caribbean had a high unemployment rate. I also discovered the people were very enterprising in figuring out ways to increase their income.
My newspaper plant was located on the island of Nevis, a charming tropical isle about three miles from the larger island of St. Kitts. It was St. Kitts that Christopher Columbus discovered in 1492 when he found the 'new world' he had been searching for in his three-ship expedition. When he saw the cloud-encircled peaks on a nearby island, he mistakingly thought it was snow and named the island Nevis which means snow in Italian.
I quickly made friends with the people of St. Kitts and Nevis. Two government ferry boats kept the islands connected with each other, making the 30-minute voyage between the islands several times a day. Unless a storm was in the area, the trip was generally a pleasant ride. You could purchase rum, beer, coffee or soft drinks in a bar near the captain's engine room.
During my years with The Observer, I lived on both islands. Jerome and his brother Winnie were fishermen who lived in Nevis. They had several other fishing buddies who owned small, sturdy boats that they used to catch fish to sell to the restaurants and citizens of both islands. They also collected conch shells that they sold to vendors along the beach. The vendors would make conch salad or other delicacies for the tourists or they would polish the shells into ashtrays and other trinkets that they would sell to the visitors.
Jerome was 26, a handsome islander with dreadlocks. His younger brother had a shaved head. Both of them loved to gamble at the island casinos and they made an offer to me. If I taught them to play poker, they would take me on a pearl-finding sea journey. How could I refuse such a generous offer? I agreed immediately.
There was a small secluded beach shaded by coconut palm trees about a half mile from where they kept their boats. One Saturday morning we met there and I taught them the rudiments of poker.
The game fascinated Jerome and he learned the game quickly. Winnie was more interested in the slots -- 'I don't have to think, I just pull the handle and hope,' he explained, laughing -- but he listened patiently as I explained the game and the strategies to use in order to win.
After a couple of sessions on the beach, they were ready to take me on a pearl fishing adventure. Their boats weren't much larger than single-engine motorboats. They brought along their fishing tackle, barely leaving enough room for me to squeeze aboard.
'No seat belts,' Jerome said, grinning. 'Here the sea is boss. You are on your own.'
As we chugged out of the harbor, we passed other yachts at anchor with wealthy visitors lounging on board in bathing suits or sea attire. They waved at us and one even threw a full bottle of champagne into the surf. Jerome maneuvered the boat alongside and snagged the bottle. He opened the cork with his teeth, saluted the boat owners, and shared it with me.
On the way to the conch shell fields, we fished for mahi-mahi. Jerome snagged two large fish that he pulled aboard. As he gutted the fish, he looked up and smiled.
'Captain Dee will appreciate these fish for his customers,' he said. 'They love mahi-mahi.'
When we arrived in the conch shell area, he dropped anchor and tossed the net overboard. After a few minutes, he reeled it in. There were several fish in the net along with about a dozen conch shells.
'Do the shells contain pearls?', I asked.
Jerome shrugged. 'Who knows? Maybe. They will make nice gifts for the tourists and the meat is good for conch salad. If we are lucky, I will find a pearl or two. Then I will have enough money to play poker.'
We docked at the pier around 2 p.m. and unloaded our catch. Using a sharp fisherman's knife, Jerome opened the shells one by one. As he cut the shells open, he spread the glistening red conch meat on a board. On the sixth shell, bingo!
A pearl.
It was pink and white, perfectly formed. 'That will make a nice ring for somebody,' he said. A few shells later he dug out a second pearl. It was not as large as the first, but it was still worth money, he said. Sure enough, a tourist and his wife happened along. He examined the pearls, made a deal with Jerome, dug into his pocket, and came up with some money to pay him.
After delivering the mahi-mahi to Captain Dee's restaurant, we ate a good lunch. Jerome and Winnie promised to meet me at the Marriott Casino later in the evening.
'First I have to practice the poker you taught me,' Jerome said.
'Study hard,' I said. 'Those are pearls of wisdom.'
When my work permit expired and I said goodbye to the many friends I had made on both islands, Jerome had some surprising news for me. He had a younger sister, 17, whom he had enrolled at a college in Miami. He had saved up enough money from his pearl hunting ventures to pay for her tuition.
I gave him and his brother big hugs.
'Now those are truly pearls of wisdom,' I said. 'You're a good fisherman, Jerome.'
Winnie laughed. 'A far better fisherman than a poker player,' he added.
Author: Geno Lawrenzi Jr.
(Geno Lawrenzi Jr. is an international journalist, magazine author and ghostwriter and poker player who lives in Phoenx, AZ. He has published 2,000 articles in 50 magazines and 125 newspapers. If you want to share a gambling story or book idea with him, send an email to glawrenzi@gmail.com ).
