You would think that the last thing I'd want to do on my day off was jump on a boat. For the past 14 years I've lived onboard various yachts, but my days are busy inside the boat cooking for guests and crew, so when we arrived in Costa Rica the first thing I did was look for a guide with a boat to show me all I'd missed.
We hadn't motored more than 100 feet from the black volcanic sand of the beach into the bay when Herardo pointed over the water.He swung the bow of the boat toward the mouth of the bay. Two islands covered in a vibrant green canopy of trees blocked the waves of the Pacific and the view of endless blue, but I doubted the serene beauty was what had the man excited.
Suddenly, the water exploded and the ridged mouth of a humpback whale shot into the air. To the right, the water opened again and a smaller, less wrinkled identical mouth broke the surface.I swiveled on the wood bench, clutching the rail and stared in awe.
The massive body seemed to hover half out of the water like it was suspended by invisible marionette strings before arching backwards and splashing into the calm water. White water rocketed up and sprayed the calf as he too sunk back into the bay.
And you thought they were myths. My husband's eyes twinkled the same color as the water around us. His smile created as many ridges around his eyes as those on the underside of the whale.
I've never seen a whale. I told Herardo, knowing he couldn't understand me but hoping he sensed the excitement in my voice.
Patrick laughed. "We used to see them every morning in Tahiti. They were everywhere."
"Yes, but you never came and got me."
"You were busy making breakfast."
"For you!" My voice squealed. "I was making breakfast for you!"
Herardo laughed. He may not understand what we were saying, but the exasperated banter of husband and wife was universal. He pointed again.
One of the mama whale's pectoral fins sliced out of the water and rolled through the air.
Herardo slowed the boat and leaned against the center console to watch the show he'd probably seen a thousand times.
As if sensing they had to make up for my years of missed sightings, the humpback and her calf breached, jumped and frolicked in the water for the next 20 minutes while the roasting sun rose higher, and I swore I'd leave the galley more if this was what I'd see.
Patrick fidgeted in the seat beside me, eager to get to the surf spot of our destination. He'd seen plenty of whales. His life on the outside of the boat was much different from mine inside.
"Vámonos!" Herardo swung the panga away from the aquatic Cirque du Soleil and headed for open water.
We sailed past Red Rock Cliffs and Seaside Caves. It wasn't long before the next show started. A school of spotted Pacific dolphin leapt across the bow and raced in our wake. Their white spots flashed in the sunlight as we sped to the wave.
Patrick tossed his board into the water, vaulted over the side and paddled toward shore before Herardo had the anchor down, leaving just the guide and me to divvy up lunch.
Herardo lifted the front hatch of the boat. The rusty hinges squeaked. He pulled a foil-wrapped dish from the ice and held it out to me.I removed the cover and peered inside. The black beans of the gallo pinto had turned the rice a grey color. Flakes of red pepper peeked out from between the grains I'd seen with every meal since we'd arrived in Costa Rica.
"Tu cocina?" I pointed at Herardo hoping I had the right tense but doubted it.
He shook his head and held out another dish. "Mi esposa."
With my broken Spanish and his little English I pieced together the menu his wife had cooked us.I opened the next dish to the sight of ceviche. Tu pesca?His wide toothy smile needed no translation. I knew he'd caught the fish himself.
The tang of lime juice lit up my mouth and punched through the soft delicate fish. The heat of the chilies burned my senses and awakened my hunger. This was spicier than the other versions I'd tasted along the coast.
Turning back to the hatch, he pulled out a coconut and machete. He swung the blade at the coconut, peeling the husk away, then tossed the coconut in the air, caught it and swung again. Hack, toss, twist, hack, toss, twist. He continued until the top of the coconut showed the white meat inside.
I checked to see he still had all his fingers and smiled.
He took the tip of the machete and pierced a hole in the meat of the coconut and handed it to me.I brought the coconut to my lips and drank. The cool water inside beat back the roasting sun and quenched my thirst.
Muy rica I used the Costa Rican term to express how delicious it all was, but Herardo wasn't listening. Instead he pointed at two sea turtles bobbing in the swell. I hung an arm over the side and trailed my fingers through the warm water. Maybe I'd never return to the galley.
“What do we do with a drunken leprechaun? Early in the morning!”
The same way mysteries of mischievous leprechauns in Irish folklore have transcended through time, the original recipe for this drink is also a mystery. A few variations of this St. Patty’s-themed cocktail are served in local pubs, but most of them include its most important ingredient — good ol’ Irish whiskey. Like a fun twist on the Irish Screwdriver, check out our favorite version of this green concoction.
Ingredients:
2 oz Irish Whiskey
1 oz Blue Curaçao
3-4 oz orange juice
Orange wedge(s)
Instructions:
Fill a cocktail glass with ice and add whiskey, Blue Curaçao and orange juice. Stir well and garnish with a fresh orange wedge.
This drink is not Irish, but its green color makes for a perfect St. Patty’s Day drink to enjoy at sea. Using the same ingredients but replacing whiskey with tequila, try another easy twist on the classic recipe for a Tequila Sunrise. Sail off toward the horizon while enjoying this beachy beverage.
Ingredients:
2 oz Blanco Tequila
1 oz Blue Curaçao
3-4 oz orange juice
1 lime and 1 orange wedge
Instructions:
Fill a cocktail glass with ice and add tequila, Blue Curaçao and orange juice. Stir well and garnish with a fresh lime and orange wedge.
For the salty sailor who could use a sweet kick on V-day, this sweet yet tart drink is perfect for your anti-Valentine’s Day party. This ocean-inspired twist on the classic margarita also makes for a perfect waterside cocktail.
1 ½ oz blanco tequila
1 oz Blue Curaçao
¾ oz freshly squeezed lime juice
Splash of orange juice
Kosher salt
1 lime and 1 orange wedge
For a salted rim, fill a small plate with lime juice and swirl your glass rim in it, then dip it into a plate of margarita salt and fill your glass with ice. In a separate cocktail shaker with a light amount of ice, pour in tequila, Blue Curaçao, lime juice and a splash of orange juice. Shake thoroughly and strain into your glass and garnish with a lime or orange.
Also known as “The Isaac,” this romantic red drink was created by original Love Boat cast member Ted Lange, who played Isaac the bartender. Inspired by his signature bright red jacket mixed with the show’s sweet theme, the delicious libation is a perfect Valentine’s Day cocktail for boat lovers.
2 oz white rum
2 oz pomegranate syrup
½ oz fresh lime juice
Splash of club soda
Lime slice(s)
2 pineapple leaf spears
Fill highball glass with ice. In separate cocktail shaker, fill with ice, white rum, pomegranate syrup and lime juice. Shake and strain into highball glass and top it with a splash of club soda. Garnish with a fresh lime slice and two pineapple spears.
*Check out a special segment from Princess Cruises where actor Ted Lange gives a demo of the Love Boat cocktail that debuted on the cruise line in 2015.
In my quest for the best Caribbean Rum, I’ve sampled a few. From Appleton to Ron Zacapa rum, my tastebuds have celebrated the luscious flavors borne from fermenting sugarcane into smooth amber elixirs.
In the pursuit of rum perfection, I’ve noticed that a well-designed label can give clues about what awaits inside the bottle. Many simply present the distiller’s name and location where a rum derives its unique flavors. But it’s hard to resist the image of a crusty old captain, pirate ship or sassy sea wench when pouring a hefty splash into a tumbler.
Curious rum aficionados like myself are always eager to hear the back story behind the libation in our hand. Like a slice of pineapple or lime wedged upon the rim of a glass, the history of a rum’s journey from the Caribbean to our lips can make a cocktail taste even sweeter.
I recently stumbled upon the extraordinary tale that intertwines Jamaican rum, world- class musicians and James Bond. To fully appreciate this unique saga, follow my lead and shake up a GoldenEye Cocktail (see recipe below) to sip while the story unfolds.
Our story begins in 1939, when a London journalist named Ian Fleming joined the British Navy Intelligence Service. His unit specialized in military espionage and covert plans to thwart German aggression in Europe and the Caribbean.
During World War II, Fleming was engaged in Operation GoldenEye, and in 1942 he was sent to investigate suspicions about Nazi submarines in the Caribbean. During this deployment, he became enamored with Jamaica and vowed to live there some day.
When the war was over, Fleming returned to Jamaica and bought 15 acres of plush land that was once used as a donkey racetrack. In 1945, he built a house not far from the banana port town of Oracabessa Bay, and the seaside property became Fleming’s tropical sanctuary where he could focus on writing and the discrete task of taking previously tight-held secrets into a public, fictional genre.
He named the estate GoldenEye as a tribute to his Navy service and began working on a book that evolved around the dashing spy and Special Agent 007, James Bond. This protagonist would emerge as the amalgamation of agents he’d met during his maritime service. As an avid birdwatcher, Fleming took the name for his lead character from American ornithologist James Bond, an expert on Caribbean birds, who wrote the definitive field guide, Birds of the West Indies.
Fleming’s first spy novel, Casino Royale, was published in 1952. This book and all 13 in the James Bond series were written in his bedroom at GoldenEye. Three of them — Dr. No, Live and Let Die, and The Man with the Golden Gun — take place in Jamaica.
Not only did the breezy island life at GoldenEye inspire Fleming’s novels, but so did his fetching neighbor, Blanche Blackwell. She was the muse who helped spark his creative drive. The Blackwell family had lived in Jamaica since 1625, exporting bananas and coconuts and crafting a distinctive brand of rum.
Blanche’s son Chris Blackwell grew up between England and Jamaica, and in his childhood spent a good amount of time with Fleming. In 1954, after Blackwell got booted from an elite British school for rebellious behavior, he came back to the island to get involved in the family rum business. Contrary to plan, he followed his instincts and made a career choice that would dramatically alter the global music scene.
For a while, he kicked around working as the aide-de-camp to the governor and as a waterskiing instructor. But after hearing the blind pianist Lance Heywood play at the Half Moon Resort, Blackwell recorded the musician, and in 1959 he launched a music studio called Island Records. In sync with his unconventional style, it became known for discovering and nurturing innovative performers who had been shrugged off or overlooked by bigger record labels.
Island Records introduced the world outside of the Caribbean to Bob Marley and the Wailers and Jamaican reggae music, showcasing island culture and universal struggles of indigenous people. It launched British bands such as Traffic, Bad Company, Emerson, Lake & Palmer, Roxy Music, King Crimson and Fairport Convention. It also cultivated artists such as Cat Stevens, Brian Eno, Grace Jones, Marianne Faithfull, Tom Waits and the Irish band, U2.
Throughout his success in the music industry, Blackwell remained in contact with Fleming and his projects. When the first Bond movie, Dr. No, was filmed in Jamaica in 1962, Blackwell was hired as a location scout and consulted on the soundtrack. Sir Sean Connery, whom Blackwell had met during the filming of Dr. No, remained a friend until his passing in 2020. Using a family recipe, Blackwell launched his boutique rum in 2008 that is distributed around the globe.
Live and Let Die was filmed in 1973 on the Blackwell Estate, which now includes The Fleming Villa. Scenes from the movie were shot near GoldenEye, Blackwell’s luxury hotel in Jamaica. The latest Bond flick, No Time to Die, returns to the exquisite Jamaican backdrop of GoldenEye, and the production team was treated to a supply of Blackwell Rum for inspiration while filming.
TO CELEBRATE 60 YEARS OF JAMES BOND, a special bottle of Blackwell Rum has been released, along with a new memoir by Chris Blackwell, The Islander: My Life in Music and Beyond. If you’re cruising around Jamaica this winter, cue up some Bob Marley tunes, open a bottle of Blackwell’s 007 Rum, and shake it (don’t stir) with pineapple juice and ice to create the GoldenEye Cocktail. And if you’re nestled in at home in a colder climate and dreaming about the Caribbean, we suggest watching a Bond flick and warming up with the Toasted Toddy.
INGREDIENTS:
-1 part Blackwell Rum
-1 part pineapple juice
-Lime or pineapple wedge
INSTRUCTIONS:
Shake together and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with lime or pineapple wedge
INGREDIENTS:
-3 parts Blackwell Rum
-2 teaspoons brown sugar
-1 1⁄2 parts fresh lemon juice
-6 parts boiling water
INSTRUCTIONS:
Add all ingredients to a mug, except for the water. Pour in the boiling water, Stir well to blend
Stay up to date with the latest articles, news and all things boating with a FREE subscription to Marinalife Magazine!
