Don’t Tell Mom...

Today I did something that I had never done in all my 65 years. I hitchhiked. Mom brainwashed me to never, ever hitchhike. Before today I never had. 

It has been over three weeks since we last did laundry-with the exception of a little hand washing-and we were overdue. There is no place nearby to do laundry. Tiny’s Hurricane Hole used to allow cruisers to do their laundry there but they have stopped allowing that. The only options are a 30 minute drive north or a 30 minute drive south. We had heard that drivers are happy to pick up hitchhikers on the island so we gave it a try. 

After getting to shore about 10 am with our three bags of laundry we started walking south. When a car came our way we stuck out our thumbs. The first one passed us by. I swear that the second one not only passed us by but gave us the middle finger (George disagrees). Three more vehicles passed by before the sixth one finally stopped. It was a very small car with a driver, a passenger and a sleeping baby in a car seat. George and I-along with our three bags of laundry-crammed into the other half of the back seat. I was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to close the door. I was leaning on the door so hard as we drove that I prayed it wouldn’t fly open. Fortunately it didn’t. The driver asked where we were going & we said the laundromat in Deadman’s that our friend, Jean, had told us about. There is a larger, nice laundromat five miles further in Hamilton but we didn’t want to push it. Jean had described the Wash House as more like a garage with a few washers and dryers and she was right. It sits among several single story apartments. We loaded up two washers, added detergent, put eight quarters in and turned them on. Although we could hear a humming noise and the machines said they were working there was no water coming in. We went around knocking on doors of the nearby apartments but no one answered. I noticed a phone number on the sign near the road so George called. The woman who answered said she would call Mr. T. Within a few minutes Mr. T drove up and told us there was no water. At first we thought the water at the wash house wasn’t working but then he made it clear to us that workmen who are adding water lines on Long Island had turned the water off. He had no idea when it would be turned on. We thanked him and he left. George and I tired to find the number for the wash house in Hamilton so we could call and ask if they had water. No number to be found. While we were searching, Mr. T drove back and said the water was working. He closed the lids on the machines and they worked!  Although the building was just a shed and the machines were rusty on the outside, they were efficient and did a good job. By 12:30 we were hitchhiking again. The time we were picked up by the fourth car. It was also very small and had three young women in it. It was a hatchback with the back seats folded down so we really had to fold ourselves in to fit. The driver dropped us right at the end of the path to our dinghy and we were back on board before 2:00 pm. I am grateful to have the laundry done and to the drivers who picked us up but I can’t say I am looking forward to repeating the experience anytime soon!

The wash house


Inside the wash house. Notice the comfortable seating.