Well, the hunting’s easy. I know, because I sometimes hunt out cockroaches, but shooting them? No, leave that to the experts. Fishing, now, that has to be easy. This big guy, Hassan, he comes up to me and he says,

“Look Eleanor, I caught this fella right alongside your boat”.

“OK”, I think. “If he can, I can.” So out I go and buy me a reel of line. “Tough stuff” I told the shopkeeper. “Gonna be catching a big fish.”

Got a whole bunch of hooks too, all sizes, from big to miniscule.

“Something else you’re sure gonna need,” he said. “This little book.”

“Oh?”

“Yep. Tells you about the right knots and stuff.”

So, I’m all set and I sit in the cockpit and figure out how it all fits together and all the knots and weights and stuff. Not so easy, because Alicia, my cat, is very interested and involved, getting into coils of fishing line and dabbing at the hooks. But finally, I’m there.

“Oops. Need some bait.” A quick shifty through the food locker soon sniffed out some dubious bacon.

“This will do the trick” I told Alicia. Hooked it on, slung the lot overboard and fixed my supper.

Well, you’ve read so far. By now you want to know what I caught, right? Only thing is, I don’t really want to tell you. Because — it was only a plastic bag.

Retired to bed disillusioned with the whole fishing business.

However, a new day is a new day, and I arose, a new woman and threw myself once again into this fishing business. I mean, if there really were fish hanging around my boat, like Hassan said, then there must be one stupid enough to take my hook.

Hook? Maybe I should be a bit more modest about the size. And — there was! A stupid fish, I mean. It came wiggling and squirming up out of the water, all silvery and fantastic. Probably all of six inches long, too, or maybe just about the length of one of my fingers, if I am to be honest, but it was, without a doubt, a real genuine fish. Alicia knew the real thing, too, when she saw it. In a flash she was up on her hind legs, her little dabs stretched out over the guard-rail, and before I could recover from my astonishment at having caught a real live fish, she had bitten through the line.

Oh, the disappointment; it pierced my heart, it really did. Alicia was not at all pleased, either. She gave me a cold stare. No purring. Just this blue-eyed glare. I had to resort to sharing a can of sardines with her. I had mine on toast. She had hers on my bed, her favourite eating place, pretty disgusting I bet you’re thinking.

From this you will gather that she’s not the best brought-up cat you would ever meet, no manners at all really, but I love her all the same. Even if she did ruin my day’s fishing.

Next line of defence, or do I mean attack? Yes, I guess I do, because I’m attacking wild creatures in their natural habitat. Needed advice. Yep. Into the dinghy to find Hassan.

“That one?” he exclaimed.“That one was nothing.

Boy! You shoulda seen the one that got away.” He hunted in his pocket and produced a fish hook.

And that was the moment when I decided that none of that trio, the huntin, shootin, fishin was for me. I’d stick to canned sardines or a tuna steak from the market.

For just now, anyway.

The effects of new maritime security regulations introduced on July 1 are only now being truly felt as boats arrive at marinas that were previously empty over the hurricane season. Although the International Ship and
Port Facility Security (ISPS) regulations are an extension of the existing 1974 SOLAS convention, they will usher in some visible changes for the Caribbean – as in this month’s St Maarten Charter Yacht Exhibition where entry to the marinas is strictly for those with security-cleared passes.

The aim of ISPS regulations, which are enforced by all International Maritime Organization signatories, is to protect international ports from terrorist attacks by ships, and require ports and certain vessels to adopt new security practices. But these rules are by no means restricted to cruise ships and oil tankers. Although private vessels such as cruising yachts are not affected, any vessel over 500 tons needs to demonstrate a security plan and have an onboard ship security officer and can only dock at an ISPS certified port. This meant, over the summer period, stories coming out of the US of megayacht skippers being forced to dock at commercial ports instead of their usual marinas, which had not yet received certification. Foreign flagged vessels of less than 500 tons must comply with ISPS if they have more than 12 paying passengers.

If the megayacht sector, in which vessels are effectively treated as commercial boats, has had to sit up and take notice, so too do the marinas in which they dock. Because boats heading for US waters are subject to a full search if coming from a non-ISPS certified port, the burden is on the island marinas where they spend the season to meet the security requirements (at their own cost) in order to retain their business. There have already been cases of commercial ships refusing to dock in Caribbean ports because they are not ISPS-certified.

On the ground, this means the days of wandering unauthorized around marinas such as St Maarten’s Port de Plaisance and Isle de Sol are over and if the US goes onto full terrorist alert, the marinas could be shut altogether.

Whereas a megayacht marina like Isle de Sol was already built in an ISPS-friendly layout, with the sole access through a security checkpoint, for a hybrid marina like La Palapa, the issue could be a source of headaches.

La Palapa’s Valeska Luckert welcomes the new regulations, however. “It means better security for your clients and will make it tedious for those who want to enter the marina for the wrong reasons,” she says. Although the marina currently receives boats up to 250 tons only, putting it outside the need for mandatory changes, they will still be pressing ahead with installation of 8ft high gates, security cameras and security guards. The expectation is that the 500-ton will systematically be lowered to the point where the marina will either have to be ready, or turn away boats. Because the marina is along the waterfront with no single point of access, visitors to the Soggy Dollar Bar or other popular businesses will have to pass first through a security check. “It will change the spirit of the Caribbean,” Luckert agreed.

On the other side of the island, Marina Fort Louis‘ Manager Etienne Taquin has proof that a security-heavy marina does not have to leave charm at the gates. “I built the marina like a military base,” says Taquin. Anticipating ISPS by some years, Taquin designed a marina that is reached by a promontory, with access through a Close-circuit TV monitored electric gate.

“People on megayachts are happy not to have other people on the dock walking around looking at their boat and talking to their personnel,” he says. As a result, Taquin has no changes to make in order to comply with new security demands. Not that he is taking things easy, “Even though I don’t need it because of the law, I’m ready to install it,” he explains, “because I’m in between two installations [Galisbay cargo port and the passenger ferry terminal] that need it.”

At worst, July’s ISPS regulations could create a two-tier Caribbean circuit, with wealthy marinas that can afford to upgrade on one hand, and more cash-strapped islands on the other. The IMO recently published a list of 17 blacklisted countries, which thankfully did not include a single Caribbean entry, which failed to provide adequate information on the status of their port security. Vessels carrying these countries’ flags will be subject to exhaustive searches on reaching US waters and could be turned away from some marinas. The fear is that, should the bar be raised at any point, one of our region’s islands will be forced to drop out.

At best, though, the anti-terrorism measures will prevent the kind of atrocity that could have far more catastrophic consequences on the Caribbean marine industry.