Lockdown Power

King Fu Panda 3 may be the movie of the lockdown. We’d seen it before, but no way appreciated it as much. Before now, this movie just served to explain the way the Kung Fu Panda trilogy ended. A box ticker even. Yes, happy happy Po. Dragon warrior dumpling-eater. We get it.

This time it’s been a real pleasure to watch. You mean you use happiness as your most powerful weapon? And the love, talent and appreciation of the people around you to create the most powerful energy of all? Whoa. This is lockdown power.

Jack went and downloaded it on his phone in Speightstown. Luckily, the wifi signal is still on and strong at the Fisherman’s Pub, just past the bridge. Really nice of the owners to leave the wifi on. We had a pricey, if popular lunch buffet here about six weeks ago. Didn’t properly appreciate it.

This time, the red boat – Fred and Sara – who anchor alone by the town pier but who are actually really engaging and friendly (probably because they have their privacy, duh) told us about it. Curfew is tight but the Bajans are cool. So far this includes respect for a person standing quietly on their own and downloading a decent movie for ten minutes. Wear a mask.

Later, we were in the middle of watching this birthday-treat, excellent film when a big, high-powered torch lit up the saloon. What the? Jack ran upstairs. Truth was, Lu and I might have already fallen into a contented coma. Therefore we might have slept through the whole thing.

I woke up just afterwards to Jack wondering aloud while coincidentally shaking my shoulders. Why hadn’t I heard him telling me to get our high-powered torch to shine at their high-powered torch? Suffice to say, it was a pretty confusing moment for me. Kung Fu Panda 3 was still playing. Po was just figuring out the hand-lighting chi.

‘They shined the light into our boat?’ I asked.

Jack nodded.

‘And they didn’t have their nav lights on on their boat?’

Nodded again.

‘Do you think they were just trying to protect us? Making sure we were ok in the darkness? Or were they checking to see if we were obeying the curfew?’

‘I don’t know! That’s why I was calling you to wake up! After us, they went and shone their torch into The Mob’s boat. Before that, I couldn’t even tell it was the police. At least I could see their silhouette then.’

At this point, the movie had been paused by Delph. Pragmatic, our new 13 year-old. She’d even tried to find the torch for her dad when I didn’t wake up.

So the police in Barbados are protecting us. Or watching us. Or both. Every night, a line of cruise ships, lit up like they’re still in business, are anchored out on the 100m line where the land falls away.

The ships are empty, save for their crew who must be having the world’s strangest and possibly funnest parties with scores of empty discos and swimming pools.