He stared at the piece of hemp in his hands.
Bored, with a capital "B". he twisted it and practiced every knot he knew. Still nothing changed.
The sky remained clear, the waters a gorgeous blue and nothing on the horizon.
He rose and trudged once more down the sandy steps to the cache of rum. Untying yet another bottle, he returned to the beach carrying yet another piece of rope.
Tossing it on the rather large pile he was accumulating, he sarcastically considered his many options. Drink rum and sit around on a beach all day.
Welcome to the Caribbean indeed!