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ST. VINCENT AND THE GRENADINES - THE SMILING BLACK MAN

2025/07/04,09:05

November 17, 2018 – Kingstown, St. Vincent and the Grenadines

THE SMILING BLACK MAN

Life – Miloš Crnjanski

None of this depends on me.
I remember how beautiful it was,
Over some deep waters,
Like a white Moon with a thin, soft bow,
A single bridge.
And, you see, that comforts me.
It does not depend on me.

It is enough if, on that day, the earth around me smells freshly plowed,
Or if clouds rush by,
A little lower,
And shake me with their passing.
No, not from me.

It will be enough if, one winter, from a snow-covered garden,
A freezing, unfamiliar child runs out
And hugs me.

I had to write this poem, composed by the great Miloš Crnjanski, which reveals itself in life every single day.

Today, we arrived in Kingstown (St. Vincent & the Grenadines), a stunning Caribbean island where Pirates of the Caribbean was filmed. I only had two hours, but I decided to go out and swim at the nearest beach.

I was hesitant about going out because I wasn’t feeling my best. Still, I left the ship. The weather was a bit uncomfortable—I felt short of breath, though not as badly as during my military days when running in gas masks.

The locals of this beautiful island are Black, so I encountered a Black woman and asked her the quickest way to the beach, as I wanted to take a quick swim. She explained that if I turned left, I’d see a boat heading to the beach. I asked how often the boat went back and forth. She replied, "Every 15 minutes." She seemed convincing, but later, her words proved unreliable.

I did as she said. I noticed passengers from my ship boarding, which didn’t strike me as odd—though it should have. A crew member of the small boat looked at me, and I asked if I could board since I was part of the ship’s staff. He replied very kindly in the affirmative.

That sailor seemed to be in charge, perhaps because he was the biggest and loudest. Most of the locals on this gorgeous island have very peculiar, if not outright unsettling, eyes. You could even say frightening—most Black men with such eyes in movies are portrayed as notorious, spine-chilling criminals. I don’t know why, but I associated those eyes with cannibalism, which was, not too long ago, a daily reality here.

The boat’s captain, also a Black man, appeared much calmer and more composed. The crew included two other sailors responsible for entertaining the guests. One had enormous white teeth that adorned his face because he constantly wore a charming grin. The other was more inconspicuous, hunched over, somewhat indifferent.

I boarded and sat on the open deck despite the rain. It was very humid, but the rain made it pleasant. In my sturdy gray bag—bought cheaply at T.J.Maxx in New York—I carried swimming goggles, a towel, and my tablet. I realized I hadn’t brought my phone and regretted it, as the phone takes much better pictures. I was fully prepared for diving.

The boat set sail. After ten minutes, I thought we were nearing the beach, but the captain didn’t turn. I kept checking my watch frequently because I had to be back on the ship by 5:00 PM. Time flew, yet the captain showed no sign of heading toward the much-desired beach. Half an hour passed, but there was no trace of the beach. I decided to ask the smiling Black man with big white teeth where we were going. He told me we were heading to the beach, which we should reach in about an hour. My stomach churned—it was already 4:00 PM.

I explained my situation, and he, avoiding direct eye contact, seemed very insincere. Yet, with a mix of fear and shyness, he said he’d call his boss and try to help me. All of this was enough to keep me from fully enjoying the breathtaking Caribbean. Still, one can’t remain indifferent when spotting a rainbow in this earthly paradise. I captured it with my tablet.

The smiling Black man continued entertaining the guests. Shortly after, he approached me to say his boss was unreachable. I consoled myself with the thought that the ship couldn’t depart without the doctor, but the delay was unacceptable.

Finally, the captain turned right toward a stunning beach, slightly curved and surrounded by towering trees, with black sand. The sailors lowered the ladder, and the Black man advised me to take off my shoes to avoid getting them wet. I did so and followed him. We first approached a man who was about to return with another small boat, but it was overcrowded with passengers, so he couldn’t take me. His energy didn’t sit well with me—there was something discontent about him—so I was somewhat relieved he couldn’t take me.

The smiling Black man told me to wait while he tried to find me a taxi. I felt some relief, though not entirely. Walking through this beautiful place, I came across another Black man selling souvenirs, so I bought a seahorse necklace—along with swans, my favorite creatures.

Very soon after, the smiling Black man returned with another Black man—my savior. I gave the smiling one £5, which he took very casually, as if it meant nothing, even though their monthly wages were around $50. I felt sad parting ways, as if I had more to give but didn’t. My feelings of distrust mixed with their help, complicating my emotions further. The farewell was brief—waves and my unconcealed satisfaction, yet also sorrow.

My Black savior also avoided eye contact, but he had very handsome, symmetrical facial features—I’d say around 70 years old. Though he had a spot on his eye, he didn’t seem frightening at all. He told me I’d have to wait 15 minutes, and the ride would cost $15. We were easily 40 km from my destination, so I countered that I’d wait 20 minutes and pay $20. He was delighted.

About 20 minutes later, an American couple appeared—the driver was supposed to take them back to the ship too. He told them I’d be joining, which, judging by their body language, didn’t seem like their preferred option. But when I mentioned I was actually the ship’s doctor, they relaxed. The ride was wonderful—I knew I’d make it on time. I chatted with the couple, who told me their parents were also on board. The father was the famous retired cardiologist Dr. Dalen, 86 years old, still writing articles.

I was thrilled and told them cardiology had been my first love in medicine, which pleased them. The next evening, the four of us had a wonderful dinner at one of the ship’s finest restaurants, the Compass Rose.

My Black savior drove quite casually, on the left side of the road—this beautiful island was, after all, a former British colony.

We arrived at 4:55 PM. The couple politely said goodbye and vanished into the twilight’s stunning colors illuminating the ship. I pulled out $100, but the driver said he had no change. I quickly went to exchange money, telling him I’d be right back. He replied, completely at ease, that he’d wait. I exchanged the money and gave him $30 instead of $20. He took it so casually, as if it didn’t matter, but he was extremely polite and unbelievably pleasant. I was sad to leave—I already missed my saviors.

I boarded the ship right on time, greeted warmly by the friendly security. As I settled in, I reflected on the day’s encounters, the beauty of the Caribbean, and the wonderful people I’d met. I was grateful for everything I’d experienced, for the small things often overlooked in daily life.

We sailed away from Kingstown under a starry sky, wished each other goodnight, and I felt fulfilled. Thinking of Miloš Crnjanski’s poem, I realized how important it is to cherish every moment, every connection that moves you—whether through words, a glance, or a smile.

I ended my day on the ship under a tranquil sky, thinking that life truly depends on us and our perspective. No matter the obstacles, beautiful moments and human encounters remain forever in memory, like treasures we carry with us.

Dr. B. Banović

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