“The good news first,” Sam said. “Our little group of alcoholics will be doing the whole Cuba-cleaning for all of us.”

On the evening of the fifth day at sea, we anchored in front of a few small islands with straw huts and palm trees. Looking good. Big cleaning the next day, interrupted by wooden canoes filled with handmade goods. We bargained over the colourful cloths and bracelets in broken Spanish, then returned to cleaning. After lunch we went to the closest little island, which was its whole own little world. We walked through it and sailed in their canoes, now that’s something else. We had free time after that, not that there was much there. That evening we re-opened a few people’s ear piercings with a glowing hot needle and a slice of lime. We even gave someone a new one. Disinfection with rum, daily stuff you know.