Dr. Mer, Ph.D and I just returned from our Caribbean adventure.
Check out the pics!
Day One - San Franciso to Boston
Walk to the BART, an invigorating tradition. A 1pm flight to the intoxicating presence of Boston. The
MBTA to Cambridge,
packed full of people on the way.
Vigoda - such a buddy. The
swattieness of this town. The Real Weather. I almost forget that I'm on vacation and not
on assignment. I'm writing again. Mer is here, asleep. We crash for an hour and then on to the Islands.
Day Two - Boston to Aruba
Up at 4am, cab to Boston. 6am: Logan is a zoo. Aruba is like some dream... wish I could sleep... people. Slight mechanical delay. Kids and their gameboys play. I and my
Treo surf.
Arrive midday - humidity hits.
La Cabana -
$3 Internet, a
segway. Reading and naps in the shade on white sand -
a constant breeze keeps us cool. Mer gets a 'shadeburn'. Into our
room, we collapse into a nap. Showers and cheese prepare us for a sumptuous meal and wine. Mer invents the 'iBird'.
Back in the room, it's literally too cool. So, we head out onto the balcony. An after-dinner workout: holding up books, guitar. "Yep, it's tough," we admit. A midnight dip in the carribean. The evolution of the Sagollas. Hottub, jets, more book-holding. Finally horizontal.
Day Three - Aruba
Sleep til noon, then
DonutQuest. Massage on the mind, mending stress. Decisions, decisions - multiple reservations, then life on the beach, a daytime dip heals all. Floating, swimming. Another lifelong local cabbie tells tales on our way to an
idyllic dinner setting: the
Flying Fishbone.
Lights out on the block just after we got there. The surf, lapping at our feet.
Our crab buddy. 23-year-old Dutch waiter adds ambiance.
The meal is
divine. A mini tour through the middle of the island, passing by Santa Cruz. Talks of a Burning Man-esqe Festivál and constant tourism. Returning to our place, a bit of guitar.
Two newlyweds in love.
Day Four - Aruba
Sleeping in on purpose, check out and check into the
beach. An afternoon of
reading and dripcastles:
Dripovia, which becomes Dripundia. Bus to
the ship, into our hobbit-hold
cabin (we like) and lots of food, good peeps. Constant tradewinds keep us
breezy.
Day Five - Aruba to Curacao
Lots of cool people at breakfast, a tasty feast. The captain's
story time. A morning shopping, all that we need and
a post to Flickr. Back on the ship in time for lunch and launch.
Cast off to the strains of
Amazing Grace. Stormy seas all afternoon and evening. Dinner abovedecks. The stars dance in unison and our surfing, partying skills come in handy.
Love.
Lying there.
Stars above.
Reggae delights through rough seas and high winds. The crew comes through. We retire belowdecks, where the rocking is less pronounced. It's cool.
Day Six - Curacao
Awake at the dock. A hearty breakfast with our buddies.
Ashore for some
killer snorkel. Through
touch-resistent fauna: our own secluded
private beach. Hours of pleasure on a desert isle...
bloop.
Back in time for the
dolphin swim. An
encounter of a lifetime.
Reversion to childhood. Snackage and stories of home until
sunset. Barbeque ashore. 'Computer age' discussions across three generations. Our buddies on the beach nearby local music flavor, a running commentary. Back onboard: a gentle rocking. More dreams.
Day Seven - Curacao to Bonaire
Pancake breakcase at the dock prepared us for our first dive. A quick, serious lesson, and we're down 25 feet to
the tug. The
awesomeness! Double OKs. We earned our lunch: curry, burgers, stories and tales. We can't stay out of the water! Back in for snorkeling - with a shirt on.
Fuel delays cause an
open bar. Everyone gets
likker'd up for The games. Our team: Rum Swizzle My Nizzle, emerge the victor! The formula: Mer's sunburned bum, me in a skirt, and a one-foot, no-hop, CLOSED EYES balance on the high seas. The trick is to
bend at the knee. Then, our 'crew' gathers abovedesk for entertainment of our own: stories and original tunes. A mighnight approach to Bonaire is tricky. The current wants to push us out. "She does whatever she wants," comments Capt. Casey, during the second approach. Successful.
Day Eight - Bonaire
BONE-aire by day. A morning snorkel off of
Klien Bonaire, a turtle sanctuary. The sun comes out and increases the definition of Mer's derriere tan lines. Way cute. Best snorkeling to date. Lots of
little buddies. The current provides a lazy tour of turtle reef, and we are the last to board.
Returning, we get a revue of the international sail fleet:
JEDI, the
trimaran, the Triumphant Lady. Lunch on board and and then our own walking tour of
Kralendijk produces ideas, gifts, and more solar radiation. Late afternoon finds us reading and enjoying the ship. Our success from last night has gained us a little notoriety.
At night, Rhett pronounces, "Well, this just doesn't suck at all."
Day Nine - Bonaire to Aruba
Up and at em this morning: Diving at the
Andrea dive site. Absolutely amazing! Saw a spotted eagle ray, some squid, and many many other buddies. Later on, Mer figures that this is the longest amount of time we've spent outdoors in
years. A quick dash back to the ship before last gangway. Mer runs out for one last shop from our favorite island. Cast off, floating "
as much sail as we dare" declares Captain Casey.
I break out the
wedding stogie and make a
spectacle of myself.
Lots of sun.
Steering the ship.
Reading, kicking back, snack and swizzle time. The crew poses for
pictures and video. I get a tour of
the bridge. We meet
the engineers and learn of their favorite spots:
St. Kitts,
St. Barts,
St. Maarten,
Trinidad. They tell me that 'Dominic' is a powerful name down here, what with
the Republic and all. A hundred pictures of
sunset. Stories, jokes, and the
three couples. Again,
Rhett: "This stopped sucking a
long time ago!"
A very special dinner, joined by the Captain. His toast, "Here's to lying, cheating, stealing, and drinking: if you lie, lie only to keep a friend. If you cheat, may you cheat death. If you steal, steal your lover's heart. If you drink, drink deeply the joys of life!"
Day Ten - Aruba to New York
After nodding off abovedecks, we reture to our cabin in the early morning and snooze soundly until the breakfast bell. Awake to sadness that this is our last day in the Caribbean. Preparing for travel, we shop with our friends after lunch aboard ship, and I figure out
Amazing Grace on guitar. Connecting with
the crew. Brotherly handshakes. No one wants to leave. Remembrance of kindnesses, respect. I spend time drawing in the ship's book.
Extended walking tour of Orangestad nets us some gifts for friends and some more sun. We finally dine at Carlos 'N' Charlie's. Then, to the airport, where our country has an entire wing to itself. Double security at customs
before we leave. The din of 'regulars' at the gate and the blare of TV is an ungentle reintroduction to high speed life. Reading and smiles on the return flight, and we're in New York - a million times as many lights on this island. Sour-faced culture shock: from One Happy Island to
One Crazy City.
Day Eleven - New York to San Francisco
Sleep for four hours and then we're back to JFK. Like some chapter from Dante or Gibson. Blues in the airport. Crammed in, back in the air, back to home, back to The City we love: San Francisco, CA, Earth.
Still drinking water from the Polynesia. A feeling of relief and accomplishment. Rest.
We fetch
Macky. Hard to take him away from
play with Jerry and company. Checking out
the coast on the way home. Yes, home.
Surf.
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