A librarian ran off with a yacht captain in the summer of 1968. It was the start of an incredible love story

CNN
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The first time Beverly Carriveau saw Bob Parsons, she felt like a “thunderbolt” passed between them.

“This man stepped out of a taxi, and we both just stared at each other,” Beverly tells CNN Travel today. “You have to remember, this is the ‘60s. Girls didn’t stare at men. But it was a thunderbolt.”

It was June 1968. Beverly was a 23-year-old Canadian university librarian on vacation in Mazatlan, Mexico, with a good friend in tow.

Beverly had arrived in Mazatlan that morning. She’d been blown away by the Pacific Ocean views, the colorful 19th-century buildings, the palm trees.

Now, Beverly was browsing the hotel gift store, admiring a pair of earrings, when she looked up and spotted the man getting out of the taxi. The gift shop was facing the parking lot, and there he was.

“I was riveted,” says Beverly. “He was tall, handsome…”

Eventually, Beverly tore away her gaze, bought the earrings and dashed out of the store.

“We locked eyes so long, I was embarrassed,” she says.

No words had passed between them. They hadn’t even smiled at each other. But Beverly felt like she’d revealed something of herself. She felt like something had happened, but she couldn’t describe it.

Beverly rushed to meet her friend, still feeling flustered. Over dinner in the hotel restaurant, Beverly confided in her friend about the “thunderbolt” moment.

“I told my girlfriend, ‘Something just happened to me. I stared at this man, and I couldn’t help myself.’”

Then, the server approached Beverly’s table.

“He said, ‘I have some wine for you, from a man over there.’”

The waiter was holding a bottle of white wine, indicating at the bar, which was packed with people.

As a rule, Beverly avoided accepting drinks from men in bars. She never felt especially comfortable with the power dynamic — plus, she had a long-term partner back in Canada.

“I had a serious boyfriend at home and thought my life was on course,” she says.

I was riveted. He was tall, handsome…

Beverly on the moment she saw Bob for the first time

Prior to traveling to Mexico, Beverly had spent a year exploring Europe and working in the UK. Throughout this period she’d politely declined whenever men in bars had offered to buy her cocktails.

“It wasn’t like I’d never met men before,” she says today. “I’d been all over Europe for a year.”

But that evening in Mazatlan, after pausing for a moment, Beverly and her friend accepted the bottle of wine. Neither of them were quite sure why they agreed. And almost as soon as the waiter started pouring, the two women started panicking.

They weren’t sure who exactly had sent the wine, for one thing. The waiter had just gestured in the direction of the bar, which was packed. The man from the taxi did cross Beverly’s mind, but she couldn’t spot him, and there were a lot of other people sitting at the bar too.

“We started talking amongst ourselves, ‘What are we going to do? We have to thank him,’” says Beverly. “Which was pretty funny, really.”

Eventually, Beverly’s friend persuaded her to go and seek out the mysterious wine donor. Slightly warily, Beverly made her way across the restaurant to the bar.

She glanced around at the various people, sitting on bar stools, sipping margaritas and sharing appetizers.

And then, she locked eyes, for the second time, with the man from the taxi.

He was holding a drink, and tipped it forward to acknowledge her. This time, he smiled. Beverly felt herself blush again.

“I got all flustered,” she says. “But I asked him if he’d like to come over and sit with us.”

Beverly returned to her table with the man from the taxi, much to the amusement of her friend. He introduced himself for the first time: Bob Parsons: a 30-year-old yacht captain from the US.

Bob managed a few yachts, he explained, and his main boat, the Sugar Shack, was parked in Mazatlan for the time being.

“We had a nice dinner and a chat,” says Beverly. “He was not aggressive at all, a very quiet, straightforward guy.”

Throughout the meal, Beverly and Bob kept exchanging glances at each other. Every time, Beverly felt the same “thunderbolt” feeling from earlier.

She was drawn to Bob. He was friendly and polite to her friend, too. But when his attention turned to Beverly, it felt different.

After dinner, Bob suggested the trio “go downtown, to the Copa de Leche.” This was a bar on the beach, he explained. Beverly hesitated.

“I didn’t know what kind of place that was. It was our first day,” she says today. “But my girlfriend wanted to go. And so I said, ‘Okay, but I want you to know it doesn’t mean anything.’ And he said, ‘I just asked you for a drink.’”

Bob, Beverly and her friend spent the rest of the evening drinking, dancing and chatting at the Copa de Leche, an Art Deco club facing onto the ocean.

“We had a nice time, but my father always taught me about sailors and Americans, and you know, you have to be careful,” says Beverly. “And I had Doug, my boyfriend at home. I wasn’t looking for anything.”

But for all Beverly’s reservations and hesitations, she still felt something distinct, every time she looked at Bob, that she’d never felt before.

“I was just flabbergasted, and I could not think of anything else,” she says.

For the next week of her vacation, Beverly saw Bob every day. She outwardly set boundaries — she was never alone with him, they always went out for the evening with Beverly’s friend completing their party.

But when he asked for her contact details, Beverly agreed, giving Bob her phone number and address.

After returning home to Vancouver, Canada, Beverly went straight to her mailbox.

She’d been thinking about Bob the entire plane journey home.

“I was frantic,” she recalls. “You couldn’t afford phone calls in those days, we had to write to people — we didn’t have communications like we do now. So I was hoping I’d have heard from him, and I went through all the mail and there were no letters… but at the bottom was a note from my roommate that said: ‘Who the hell is Captain Parsons on the Sugar Shack?’”

When Beverly saw the note, she laughed out loud. She already knew, in her heart, that she had to give this connection a chance. The fact he’d called already cemented this certainty.

“The next day, my boyfriend, the one I had for three years, Doug, came to see me. And before he even had his jacket off, I just said, ‘Doug, I’ve met somebody.’”

Beverly told Doug that this “somebody” was based in Mexico, that nothing had happened between them, but she’d felt a connection she couldn’t deny. Doug was surprised, but took it relatively well.

“He said, ‘Well, that’s crazy. You better go down and figure this out.’”

Throughout July 1968, Beverly and Bob wrote letters to each other.

“But writing back and forth to Mexico was a bit crazy,” she recalls. “Took forever.”

Then, towards the end of July, Beverly got a call from an unknown number. It was the wife of the owner of the Sugar Shack, who explained they were heading to California to pick up a new motor yacht the following weekend.

“She said, ‘Our captain wants you to fly to San Diego for the weekend, and he asked me to get you a hotel room,’” recalls Beverly.

Without hesitation, Beverly said she’d be there.

She knew it was “crazy.”

“I’d only known him a week, never been alone with him…” she says today.

But Beverly couldn’t stop thinking about Bob.

And if it hadn’t been love at first sight in Mexico, Beverly and Bob knew for certain they were falling for each other following this whirlwind weekend in San Diego.

Beverly enjoyed being in Bob’s company.

“He was not aggressive at all, he was just a very quiet, straightforward guy, not effusive,” she recalls. “He was tall, handsome… he didn’t know he was, that made him even more attractive. He was a presence.”

And together, they just clicked.

I couldn’t wait, and so I didn’t wait. I thought…‘If I don’t go, I’ll wonder the rest of my life.’

Beverly, on the moment she decided to run away with Bob

“I flew home Monday morning, and with my jacket still on, typed my resignation, and gave it to all three departments that I was working for — political science, economics and sociology — and I sent them all a letter,” she recalls.

“And I called Doug and I said, ‘Well, you told me to figure it out. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I have to do it.’ My parents were shocked, but my friends were even more in shock, and I just couldn’t help myself. I knew it was stupid and wrong, because, you know, people didn’t do this kind of thing then.”

But whenever Beverly encountered concerns or hesitations from her loved ones, she remembered the moment she’d seen Bob for the first time. She relived the weekend in San Diego in her mind. She knew this was the right decision.

“I was so excited,” she says. “I couldn’t wait, and so I didn’t wait. I thought…‘If I don’t go, I’ll wonder the rest of my life.’”

Beverly arrived in Mazatlan at the end of August, 1968. She and Bob were thrilled to be together.

In Mexico, Bob managed four boats: the Sugar Shack, El Hefe, Gold Coaster and movie star Jerry Lewis’ boat, Pussy Cat 2, later called Shady Lady. Beverly started working on board the yachts in an informal capacity.

One day, Beverly and Bob were both on board, when Bob sought her out.

“He came out of the engine room, wiping grease off his hands, and he said, ‘I would like to get married,’” recalls Beverly.

Beverly was totally taken aback. And then she surprised herself by thinking about Doug, the ex-boyfriend back home. And her parents.

In her shock, she actually mentioned Doug aloud to Bob.

“He said, ‘Well, if you were concerned about Doug, you would be in Canada, not here,’” recalls Beverly.

Still in disbelief, Beverly said they should call her parents. Bob agreed. So from the boat, they dialed Beverly’s parents, thousands of miles away in Canada.

“We called on the single-sideband, which means that you call from a radio to a point where an operator can hook you to a telephone,” recalls Beverly. “And by the way, the whole ocean can listen to the call, because it’s on the radio.”

The operator connected the phone, and Beverly’s mother answered.

Shouting into the phone, Beverly told her she and Bob were going to get married.

“You had to say, ‘over,’ when you’re supposed to talk and everything,” recalls Beverly. “And so she’s saying ‘over’ all the time, and we’re screaming into the radio — I don’t know why we had to scream, but we were screaming.”

Eventually, the message got across. And Beverly’s mother’s response was matter-of-fact.

“She says, ‘Well, if you’re getting married, you’re coming up here and getting married in the church.’”

Beverly was surprised, she’d expected her mother would object or suggest her daughter should wait.

Meanwhile, the radio operator, who could hear the whole call, “was laughing so hard.”

“The whole conversation was so crazy,” reflects Beverly.

She woke up the next day feeling vaguely dazed. Happy, yes. But still kind of in shock.

“I’m getting married,” she thought. “I need a dress.”

Meanwhile, in Vancouver, Beverly’s mother was busy pulling a last-minute celebration together.

“My mom, in three weeks, found a cancellation of a beautiful place, planned a seated dinner with a live orchestra for 90 people, all by herself.”

A new friend Beverly had made in Mazatlan helped her sew her wedding dress.

“I would go to her house at eight and sew my wedding dress, hand seeded pearls all over the veil. Did the veil too — Mexican lace.”

As Beverly perfected her wedding dress and sought out material for bridesmaid dresses, she found herself thinking about the decision to marry someone she’d only known a few months, and analyzing what it meant.

“I was excited. I was scared. But my thinking was — I followed this man from Canada to Mexico. I’m going to follow him wherever he goes next. So, therefore, I must be in love, and getting married is just fine, the right thing to do,” she says.

“So we met end of June, I came down [to California] in July, went back to Mexico in August, and flew up to get married in September.”

Beverly and Bob arrived in Vancouver with her handmade dress and vibrant bridesmaid outfits in her suitcase. Bob met Beverly’s parents and Canadian friends for the first time. Beverly’s parents were enthusiastic and welcoming to Bob, and Beverly’s mother promised Beverly the wedding plans had come together perfectly.

For Beverly, on the morning of her wedding day ,there was an air of the surreal. She was thrilled, she knew she loved Bob, and was confident in her decision. But she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. And she could tell some of the guests were a bit baffled.

“I didn’t know anything about my wedding, and I’m sure all my friends were there, just wondering who this guy was,” says Beverly. “They were all friends with the other guy, Doug.”

But as the day progressed, any reservations from Beverly’s loved ones melted away.

“Bob got up and made a toast to the bride. And when he did, he got all choked up, and then everyone fell in love with him,” recalls Beverly.

“So all my friends and family actually loved him from the very beginning, and so that was a wonderful thing, because we’ve done many trips with my old friends and vacations and back and forth, and it was really wonderful.”

Looking back today, Beverly is thankful the wedding panned out the way it did.

“I’m really glad my mother made me get married in the church,” she reflects. “It means a lot, actually, it’s part of the commitment and having all your friends there, and it was a good thing getting them to know him, too. So it was good. It was all good.”

Beverly took Bob’s name when they married, becoming Beverly Parsons. Together, Beverly and Bob returned to Mexico to reunite with the boat owners.

This time, they were heading to Cabo San Lucas — now a bustling resort town, then a sleepy beachside spot with just over 1,700 residents.

The couple rented a home on the beach, with one of the yacht deckhands. It was the perfect location.

“Bob was just a dinghy ride away from the boat. It was just right in front,” recalls Beverly. “I started learning Spanish from the deckhand who was living with us, he would speak to me in Spanish, and I would respond in English, and we had this two-language conversation — and I still see him once in a while when I go to Mazatlan.”

In time, Beverly became a cook on the yacht, and she and Bob started living on board. They became really close with the boat owners.

“They had money, but they were just regular people,” says Beverly. “We lived through things. We went through hurricanes together. We traveled together. We spent a year in Acapulco — Bob was rebuilding another boat for them.”

It was a glamorous, fun lifestyle. Sometimes. Beverly felt as if she was living in a movie. This feeling was enhanced when, on more than one occasion, Bob was mistaken for a movie star.

“I remember going to Las Vegas, and he went to the bathroom… and some girls came running up to me and said, ‘We know he’s a movie star, but we just can’t put our finger on his name,’” Beverly laughs.

Beverly and Bob were happy together. They loved each other, loved being in each other’s company.

But occasionally, Beverly felt less-than-fulfilled, professionally speaking.

“Sometimes I felt like a bird in a gilded cage,” she says. “I was used to making my own money. I had put myself through university. I had taken myself to Europe for a year.

“But I did not know that I was preparing myself for the most amazing career any woman could have, ever, I think.”

After a few years in Mexico, Beverly and Bob found themselves in San Diego, where Bob was now working as a captain and navigator on a commercial fishing vessel.

“One day, I got a call from a big yachting company,” says Beverly. “A friend of mine who worked there as their marina manager, she said, ‘Bev, we don’t have a weekend person. Can you come in on weekends?’”

This temporary job was the beginning of Beverly’s career as a boat agent. And in time, Bob stopped working on board boats and became a yacht broker. The couple settled on land — even though their work still involved getting out on the water from time to time.

“Someone could buy a boat from Bob, insure it from him, charter it, manage it with me and charter it out. And we were sort of like a package, and we were really quite successful,” says Beverly.

Early on in their relationship, Bob and Beverly had discussed the idea of having children. When they lived on yachts it felt like kids were out of the question, but they agreed to revisit the conversation in a few years.

When Beverly turned 30, the couple decided that they were still on the same page — they weren’t going to have children. They had a fulfilled, happy, exciting life, and Bob was also close to his nieces and nephews.

Over the next decades, the couple traveled a lot for work, including to Turkey, Tahiti, all across the Caribbean.

“We just had a beautiful life, beautiful friends, beautiful industry,” says Beverly. “We were always happy… A lot of people say you can’t work with your husband, but I loved it.”

Their early years on the yacht had built a strong foundation, she says, both for working together and enjoying married life together.

“When you live that close to someone for five years on a boat, you know them. You know you trust them. I trusted him with my life,” says Beverly. “I totally trusted him in every way. And I think when you have a partner, I think you need love — which obviously we had — trust and respect. I had all those things.”

Support and love

Looking back on meeting Bob, those early years, working together across the globe, and their eventual 52 years of marriage, Beverly says she feels like “one of the luckiest people ever.”

“I totally loved him, and it was just great,” she says. “He got dementia at the end, and I was not going to put him in any facility. Even though I was working, I cut back on hours, and I made it the best I could for him and me.”

Bob lived with dementia for several years before he passed away in early 2020.

“When Bob would have incidents with his dementia, I put myself in his shoes. And I knew he was just scared — and who wouldn’t be — I just held him really tight, and I would just say, ‘I love you, I’ll never leave you, and I’m sorry.’ And he would calm right down,” says Beverly.

“It’s so easy if you really love someone. And I know that that was actually a good part of our life… it was just a different stage.”

In the five years since Bob’s death, Beverly has continued to thrive in the yachting business. She turns 80 this year, but she still loves her career, loves her industry.

I totally trusted him in every way. And I think when you have a partner, I think you need love — which obviously we had — trust and respect. I had all those things.

Beverly, reflecting on her life with Bob

In the mid-1960s, before she met Bob, Beverly had reservations about the institution of marriage. She’d have long conversations with her Vancouver roommate about the importance of staying independent, not being tied down in an era where marriage was still looked at through a patriarchal lens and traditional gender roles.

“We always thought of marriage as a cage,” she recalls.

But now, Beverly reflects that her marriage to Bob propelled her forward. He loved her independence, and his love gave her the foundation and anchor to explore the world and be herself, find her place.

“In our day, you could be a teacher, you could be a secretary, or you could be a nurse, basically. And that was your three choices, and I got to be something else, and with his, not only support, but encouragement,” she says. “I had that support. He always supported me.”

Today, Beverly lives in California. She’s still close with all her old friends — from the ones who sat there, unbelieving, at her wedding, to the people she met in Mexico, on the yachts.

She’s even, perhaps against the odds, become good friends with her ex-boyfriend Doug in recent years.

Beverly had always felt a bit guilty about how they’d ended things. When they got back in touch, she apologized, even though it was decades ago, and she’d lived a whole life with Bob in the meantime.

Doug told her, “You don’t need forgiveness.”

This year, Beverly turns 80 and she’s going on a cruise around Alaska with Doug to celebrate.

“We’re both born the same month,” she says.

When she thinks back on her decade-spanning romance with Bob, Beverly often finds herself reflecting on a conversation she had with her father on her wedding day — right after Bob had wowed everyone with his heartfelt, emotional toast.

“He said to me, when I got married, ‘I can’t imagine much worse than my only daughter going away to a foreign country, floating around on a boat, not being able to contact her, not knowing where she is or if she’s safe,’” Beverly recalls.

“But then he said, ‘I looked at the two of you and… I didn’t want to stop you, because I could see how much you cared.’ And so, I mean, how lucky can someone be? And to be able to have 50 years? It’s just unbelievable when you think about it. I’m just so glad that I took a chance.”