Sundowner's United

Sunset from cockpit of Northern Star.  Sunshade screens are down.

No, it’s not a club.  In my previous life as a medical social worker, “Sundowner's” was a term used to describe the decline of mental acuity late in the day in a patient with a diagnosis of dementia.   Not a happy connotation.  

The glow of Sundowner's time

In my new cruising life however, “Sundowner's” is the practice of sharing some beverages and light fare on someone’s boat (not necessarily your own) beginning somewhere around 4:30 until darkness falls.  It’s a lovely time of day when the world takes on an almost surreal golden glow.  It’s the time of day when I most often feel compelled to take out my camera to capture everything (including us) in the best light possible.   Sundowner's is a wonderful cruising tradition and I hope it continues on into perpetuity. 

Sundowner's can take place on a beach, or restaurant.  With or without dogs.  WITH dogs is best!

Sundowner's would be a very nice practice to maintain while living on land as well.  Imagine what the world would be like, if we all stopped rushing around, working frantically, at about 4:00, so that we could get together with our old and new buddies to enjoy a little breaking of the bread, a little story-telling, a little camaraderie amongst like-minded souls along about 4:30.  “Imagine all the people, living for today….woo—hoo-ooo.”

In the interest of promoting that practice, here’s how you do it.  You meet someone during the day that seems at least mildly interesting to you.  Stop waiting for that perfect friend candidate to appear.  You ask some rudimentary questions or make friendly comments such as, “How long have you been in the Bahamas?” (“How long have you lived here?) or “Nice boat….what kind is it?” (“Nice car—what kind of gas mileage you gettin’ on that?) and one thing leads to another, and before you know it, one of you is inviting the other to get together for Sundowner's at (insert the time) at (insert the place).  

"Here's how you get the snail out of the conch."  Next - how to prepare it.

Now, the best answer to the invitation is always, “That would be nice, thank you.” Or in the event that you have already accepted a prior invitation, “Oh, gee, we have plans for this evening, but let’s get together soon.  Would tomorrow work for you?”  Do not leave this conversation without some clarity as to whether this will or will not occur on another evening.  See how easy that was?

Lots of head scratching at Sundowner's.  Jax loves it!.  

The primary unwritten protocol for Sundowner's is that one should always bring along whatever beverage you desire for yourself for the evening.  Sundowner's should not become about who can provide the best drinks because 1) that makes the event expensive for the host, and 2) how are you supposed to know whether this person that you have only just met, likes red or white wine, beer, juice or cream soda. There are just too many options.  Keep it simple.  Bring your own and say no more about it.  

Wine, beer, run drinks, fruit juice, whatever you like....

The second unwritten protocol is that it is nice to bring a little something to share with your beverage.  Again, however, this is not a contest about who can bring the best treats.  In fact, there’s a lot to be said for putting one’s guests (or hosts) at ease by providing a very simple little snack from whatever you happen to have onboard (in your pantry).  

Save this fancy dessert for Christmas, not Sundowner's

A small plate of something, or small bowl of nuts is good.  This is not a meal!  Oh, there may be an occasion now and then where you feel compelled to make something special, but don’t make a habit of it.  It raises the bar too high—makes the casualness of the friendly little tete a tete into something with more pressure than it need have.  Keep it easy, friendly, no puttin' on airs.

You should be home by this time.

The third unwritten protocol is to come when you say you will, and to go home before it’s full dark.  If you are all laughing uproariously about something, okay, hang in there a little longer, but never, never stay beyond the hour when a host could reasonably be expected to want to have their evening meal.  Sundowner's is a little period of winding down, slowing down one’s breathing  It does not take the place of evening with your family or loved one(s).  

Hurrying to friend's home for Sundowner's? 

On a boat in an anchorage with other boats, one or more boats will blow a conch horn at the moment when the sun descends below the horizon—a perfect cue to consider one’s imminent departure.  On land, you may need to find some other cue as there are not many conchs being blown on land. 

Sundowner's is nice in cold climates, too.

The fourth and perhaps most important unwritten protocol for Sundowner’s is to listen to one another.   It is unlikely that you have been invited because you are the undiscovered second coming of Robin Williams (is it too soon to invoke his memory?) and that everyone will be disappointed if they do not hear your “routine.”  Those of you who crave the limelight….. seek out alternative opportunities to see your name in lights.  It will not happen at Sundowner’s.  

Sundowner's at an outdoor restaurant with larger group.  

No one’s boat (or life, or job, or family) is more interesting than anyone else’s.  Trust me on this.  Sundowner’s is a time to get to know other people beyond what you’ve been able to glean by waving from your dinghy (or your car).  They don’t wanna hear about your neighbor or your complaints about everything that’s wrong in the world.  What people really want is to hear about you.  

Sundowner's can be time to celebrate a birthday!

Cardinal rule of Sundowner’s:    Allow others to get to know you for who you really are.  And then, if you find they don’t like you (or you them) well, at least you know something that’s genuine. “Imagine all the people….living life in peace.  Woo-hoo-ooo.”  

Sundowner's, the golden hour of the day.