We ate singular/plural foods too long. Fish 5 days. Not different fish. Same fish. Next it was rice, followed by Spam. The pattern was clear, one food many days in a row and this Captain was ready to row, swim, or attempt any desperate measure to obtain a meal that didn't elicit an involuntary "ISH" from me.

The weather had finally cleared and The Captain and The Kid were heading south east to Nassau. As it began to rise off our starboard bow we were thinking food. Which food will fill the need created by the singular/plural eating doldrums.

"Chocolate."

Maybe a good selection by The Kid. Maybe? Chocolate could be viewed as a singular/plural I observed.

"First", The Kid countered, "chocolates is the plural. Second, I would eat chocolate for a few days right now."

"Cheeseburger!" I exhaled the word from the vision which had suddenly filled my mind. "Burger, fries, and a Coke."

This vision wasn't about healthy eating. This was about cravings. Some may argue, but I am completely convinced that at the same time that Nassau lifted from the sea, the aroma of cheeseburger filled the air. It was not a fish-burger, or Spam-burger, but a hamburger, pickle, onion, mustard, and a slice of cheese smell coming from on-shore across the water and signaling my taste buds. Nassau kept rising and cheesburger kept beckoning.

We came alongside the cruise ships lined up by the Straw Market, but never thought once about shopping. We thought about food. Mostly we thought about burgers. Singular burger. Plural, burgers. Now that's food!

"Bay Street." The Kid directed.

"There. Golden arches!"

Down the street spanned the bridges connecting to Paradise Island. Tourists were ebbing and flowing to what has become New Providence's main attraction. Pirates, sharks, games, and the entertainment that keeps expanding into the part of Nassau that isn't really what Nassau is at all.

Our attention. Our senses were locked in. We had set our fantasy for the island's offering of meat. The doors to the McBurger oasis were swung open and we breathed in deeply filling our lungs with beef-aroma. Scanning the view of both soft drink and food, "Click" a misfire between synapses. I shook it off and allowed my eyes to tack from menu fare and back across to meal deals. "Click", another misfire when once again my eyes locked on the 'Fish Sandwich'.

The Kid picked up on my distress. We had not come for fish. The Kid pointed an outstretched finger to what seemed to be a larger than life assortment of letters spelling out the food we had come to save our hungering souls by, CHEESBURGER!

We are quite sure what we heard next was not an angelic chorus melodically chiming the words over and over again, but it had more the sound of a Coral Reefer chorus, re-inforcing our choice. I looked for speakers, but found none. We had come for cheeseburgers and the melody, the surroundings, and the desperate need for singular food fare, strengthened our resolve.

Buy for sustenance when you getaway for more than a day or two and prepare for insanity. Unless you plan to sail around the world alone and provisions become part of some depraved deprivation that will make a wonderful, "what a brave soul story", buy for pleasure. Look forward to fish. Enjoy the rice. Have fun with Spam (if possible to do so). Red sauce? Stick with spaghetti or chili sauce that has some kick to it and is actually identified by a name, not a color.

Buy for pleasure! Enjoy the getaway. Even if you need to escape to a burger joint somewhere, don't have it be your rescue, but rather make it a choice stop. Listen for the chorus and follow it on board and off if its coming from your favorite CD.

The Captain and The Kid