Apparently last night there was a gigantic party on the Lido deck complete with live music, dancing, singing, more dancing, dancing contests, a dance line, oh… and alcohol. I learned today that it was THE moment that the Carnival crew looks forward to. Alicia and I slept. And you know what? I don’t know about Alicia, but I don’t regret missing that party. Not one bit. Because for me, sleeping next to the woman I love, the woman I have waited for was more amazing and brought more joy than any conga line in the world. So that’s what we’ll give today as a theme: “The World In My Arms.” Normally I’d put the pictures here, but I’ll wait to the end.
We slept until about 7:30. The ship arrived at 6:00 a.m. at Long Bay in St. Thomas. When we woke up we checked the Bow and Stern channels and saw the small town of Havensight. We were both anxious to get going. Today would be the day that we would indulge in the only shore-excursion we’d purchased – a 3-hour tour (cue music). The tour consisted of a short catamaran ride to a small island where we would anchor in a cove and snorkel. The whole thing would start at 9 a.m. so we needed to get moving.
We grabbed some food at the breakfast buffet upstairs - the usual Fruit Loops, eggs, sausage & fruit that we always eat. There was a quiet, unspoken anticipation of what we would see and experience. We’d purchased the underwater camera in expectation of seeing some amazing things. We knew that we’d talk about this day for the rest of our lives. There was a part of me that wished, secretly, that our kids could be with us to experience it, too. BUT they couldn’t. So there.
We stepped off the ship at just before 9:00 a.m. noting how blue the water was. The smell of a passing, morning rain storm was still in the air and made the already sticky air smell a bit sweeter. Next to the dock ran a long chain-link fence with one exit. Along the ship-side of the fence stood men and women holding signs on which were written the names of different excursions. We scanned the signs for our excursion, but didn’t find it, so we decided to exit the dock through the gate in the fence, thinking that our group would meet by the dozens of taxis lined up in the parking lot. Now, when I say “taxi” what I really mean is homemade bus. Think of it more of the lovechild between a Ford F-450 and a parking lot tram at a Disney theme park. Then, just for comic effect someone sticks a Yellow Taxi sign on the top of the cab as a finishing touch. There were rows and rows of them, each one with a more-than-eager driver asking “Taxi?” when you make eye-contact with them.
Alicia and I looked around and took in the beauty of the mountain covered in lush, green jungle that we were now standing on, and yet, still at sea level. Gigantic homes dotted the mountainside. Not what I expected. We didn’t see a sign or any indication as to where our excursion was supposed to meet, so we decided to turn and walk back through the gate. Of course, not before we showed our passports and “sign & sail” cards to the man that just saw us walk out of the gate to prove that we hadn’t somehow changed our identities in the last 5 minutes and were now dangerous to the security of the ship. I approached a crew member and asked where our excursion was meeting. He pointed along the fence. It was right about then that a young man named Andy waved and asked us if we were waiting for the catamaran/snorkeling excursion. He told us that it would be about 30 more minutes before we left, so decided to take advantage of the time and see if any shops were open in the open-air mall 100 feet away. We exited through the gate again, winking at the security… guy. Our luck wasn’t so, um, lucky, because none of the shops were open, yet. SO in what could only be seen as funny to, well, me, we walked to the gate again. This time, however, the man looked as us as we handed him our passports, gave us an annoyed look and waved us through without checking our identities.
Andy was there, but this time with a group of other eager shipmates ready for their boating and swimming adventure. We were instructed to move away from the fence and stand near the edge of the dock and our boating crew would be along to get us. At this point it started to rain again, though not much. The clouds were patchy so it was obvious that it would soon end. The other people in our group, who were, in fact, black, started complaining about getting wet and the effects that the rain would have on their hair. Alicia and I looked at each other with an understood look as we both wondered if these people were confused as to the “underwater” nature of snorkeling. We just smiled in our quiet entertainment.
Enter Chris the Dude (our nickname for him). Our host for the adventure was the iconic example of a guy who had decided in college that he would prove his parents wrong and make a living being a beach bum. His tanned skin contrasted with his sun-bleached, long, blond hair. Shorts, t-shirt and flip-flops completed the package. He was a dude. Having been a dude, once, I recognized it. Alicia recognized it. Chris greeted the group and explained that the boat was a “good walk” away and asked everyone to stay close. Then, you guessed it, we walked out of the gate. I smiled at the guy again.
We made our way along the island-side of the fence, following Chris. This gave me a chance to chat with Andy. I found out that it was Andy’s first day, his training day, on the boat. He mentioned he had spent the longest amount of time in Colorado Springs but had moved around a lot. Seemed like a genuinely nice kid who just wanted to work in an industry that, let’s face it, was more interesting and beautiful and fun than where you and I work.
We arrived at the catamaran, called the Castaway Girl, and received a quick introduction to the rest of the crew – Jeremy and a large, pasty-white man named Carl, who was our captain. We were asked to remove our shoes and drop them in a red, plastic bucket before we boarded the ship. Once everyone was aboard and seated the boat immediately pulled out of port and the safety speech began. Chris the Dude, delivered a very rehearsed speech complete with jokes that charmed everyone on board except for Alicia and I. In fact, Alicia leaned over to me and asked me how much action I thought he gets from the female tourists with his beach-bum attitude, accent and attire. “Too much” was my response. Now you have to imagine that Chris the Dude’s manner of speaking was a delicate cross between Keanu Reeves’ “Ted Theodore Logan” and Mike Myers’ “Wayne Campbell.” His repertoire of charming humor went something like this:
“In case of emergency there is a life raft on the board. It will fit, two cases of rum, myself and three women.” (Surfer laugh)
“There are life vests under the seats” He continued. “Don’t worry. There are enough life vests for the crew.” (Surfer laugh)
He finished with “You’ve probably heard the phrase ‘the crew goes down with the ship,’ but I assure you that doesn’t apply here in the Caribbean. If you see the crew suddenly jump into the water, there is something wrong with the boat.” (Surfer laugh)
As soon as he was done with his shtick, Alicia and I quickly moved to the very front of the boat just atop the right pontoon. We rested our feet on the cargo net stretched between the two pontoons. There were just over 20 of us on the boat, not including the crew. Some other guests took our cue and joined us on the forward deck of the boat. Just then, there was a loud WHIIRRRRRR followed by a loud BANG as the main mast went up. One of our black friends from NYC, an older man named Charles, yelled out “What the HELL was THAT?! We’re not used to sounds like that in the City!” This should’ve served as a warning to everyone on board as to what to expect from Charles and his family, but it gets better , keep reading.
The water was as warm as the day and Alicia squealed happily as we crested each wave and came back down, sending a spray of sea-water onto her face and body. The sail lasted about 30 minutes and the excitement of the adventure grew as we came closer and closer to Buck Island, a small, 40-acre bird sanctuary. The catamaran slowed and pulled into Shipwreck Cove, where it anchored itself to a buoy. During the ride, each person was handed a pair of flippers. Once the catamaran was anchored masks, snorkels and inflatable diving vests were distributed. Now, it was Chris’ turn to speak again.
Chris began to explain where we were – a U.S. wildlife preserve, off-limits to tourists. No one was to remove anything, living or otherwise, from the island or the cove. In fact, no one was allowed to set foot on the island at all. Then Chris began to explain to us the art of using the equipment we’d been given. The vests had a black tube that pointed up that could be used to add or remove air as needed. If you wanted to be assured that you’d float all you had to do was simply press down on the tube and blow into it. If you wished to dive below the surface, then pressing on the tube would release the air inside. Jeremy, the most experienced diver amongst the crew then carried out water noodles that could be used for additional floatation. Charles’ wife, a heavy-set black woman with Don King-like hair raised her hand and sequestered 7 of them. Chris then instructed us that since water would likely end up in our snorkels, the easiest way to expel the water was to shout the word “two” into the snorkel. Charles’ wife, now aptly nicknamed “Noodles from New York” by Alicia, interrupted Chris to clarify. “Tube?!” she inquired fretfully. “Two,” Chris said calmly, obviously at the outer limits of his patience, “but you don’t actually have to say it out loud…” He digressed. After some instruction about our masks and another warning about messing with the sea creatures Chris told us to get in the water. Alicia and I were the first ones in. Camera in hand, we immediately started diving and testing out our abilities in our new world. Chris, Jeremy and Andy were some of the last in the water. Chris told us that we were welcome to swim off on our own, but that a guided tour of the cove was available. He would be pointing out fish and coral along the way. Since we paid for the excursion, Alicia and I decided to go with the tour, although we were two of the most experienced swimmers amongst the guests.
The tour began. Each time Chris would dive, I would dive with him. I wanted to get close up pictures of the sea life. We saw clown fish, blue tangs, yellow tangs, zebra fish, parrot fish, an octopus, two sea turtles, jellyfish, a barracuda and assorted coral. Alicia and I found ourselves being bombarded and man-handled by the slower, heftier, uncoordinated snorkelers in our group. Each time I would surface from diving, I would run head first into the thigh or belly of one of them. At one point a woman practically swam over my back in completely oblivious to what she was doing. Alicia enjoyed the moment as my frustration got the best of me and I planted my hand firmly on the woman’s butt and pushed her aside. It was then that the comedy reached its pinnacle. From waaaay in the back of the group came the frantic cry of Noodles. “JEH-RA-MAY!! JEH-RA-MAY!! HELP ME!! I’M NOT MOVING, JEH-RA-MAY!! THE WAVES ARE PUSHING ME BACKWARDS!! JEH-RA-MAY!!!” Everyone turned to see Noodles with her fully-inflated vest and 7 buoyancy aids flailing about in the water. Jeremy swam back to her, grabbed her by the vest and pulled her to the front of the crowd. Loud shouts of “TWOOO!! TWOOOO!!” came from her snorkel. Yes, even her children had realized how ridiculous she was and joined Alicia and I in our stifled laughter. Finally came the highlight of the swim. Out of the sapphire blue cove emerged a shipwreck in two pieces, 25 feet underwater. Chris explained the story of how the ship came to rest in the cove. In the 70’s a cargo ship was discovered by the U.S. Coast Guard to have a shipment of marijuana on board. There must have been an informant working amongst the good guys because by the time the Coast Guard reached the ship in Long Bay it was fully ablaze and the crew was gone. The ship sank and was left in Long Bay for 20 years, then relocated to Buck Island to create man-made reef. Sand bags held the wreckage to the bottom. We swam over the huge diesel engines that once powered the ship. Then Chris told us that a barracuda often hides in the hull of the ship and he would swim through the hull to flush it out. In a moment of bravado I decided that I would join him. Alicia panicked as she could read my mind. But, as Chris entered the hull, my better-judgment kicked in and I stayed out. After a few pictures of the ship and a couple of Alicia and I together underwater (courtesy of Jeremy) Noodles and the group headed back to the boat. The adventure had come to an end. It was time to head back.
The boat ride back was no different than the ride to the island, except that rum punch was being served now. Chris distributed some Chex-mix in a cup to everyone on board and, like before, Alicia and I enjoyed the front of the catamaran and spray of the sea. It was an awesome and fulfilling excursion. We are both very glad that we paid the money to go. The last adventure was getting past the crew as they stood on the dock with a makeshift tip jar. We hadn’t brought much cash with us, so while I’m sure that they were expecting fives and tens, Alicia and I scrounged up a whopping $1.80. We dropped the money in the jar, moving quickly to get away.
Once we were off the boat and wearing our shoes again we headed into the Havensight Mall again to find some lunch. As in Puerto Rico, it was our goal to sample some authentic local cuisine. We walked up and down random streets looking for something that appealed to us. Being that it was Sunday, there wasn’t much open. Like in Puerto Rico, there were some franchises there, but finally we settled in at the Havensight Café, an outdoor restaurant/bar. After running to a nearby ATM to withdraw some cash we ordered our food - Caribbean wings, Jamaican Black Bean Soup, beans and rice and curry chicken.
We decided to fly in the face of the age-old warning of waiting for an hour before swimming and boarded a taxi for a $6-ride to Morningstar Beach, a quiet and yet popular cove for swimming. We used the goggles we had purchased in Old San Juan to rummage the floor of the ocean for coral and shells to take back to the kids. We swam for about an hour. By that time it was time to board the ship again. Another taxi ride back to the Carnival Miracle and another trip through the gate (where we were recognized and waved through, again) brought us back to our stateroom and a hot shower. We cleaned ourselves up, dressed and headed off to Dinner to see our old friends D and Francisco.
After dinner, as was usually the case, there wasn’t much to do. So, Alicia and I decided that we’d try our luck at winning another ship on a stick. In addition to the desire to dominate the ship, we now had the goal to win enough trophies for each of our children to have. We currently had two. We headed to the Phantom Lounge to play a Classic Movies trivia game. Exactly as before, Binky played a clip from a classic movie, and then asked us to name the movie. He followed that up with two additional questions about the clip. Not being our forte, we didn’t win. So, we headed back to our room to change.
In a spur-of-the-moment, last minute decision we decided to head to the Orpheus Bar on the Lido deck at the back of the ship. This was an open-air bar/lounge where the wind was low and few people congregated. We settled into a table for two and I purchased amaretto sours for us to sip on. Alicia had never tasted amaretto sours before that moment, but soon discovered her new favorite drink. We sipped the sours and talked about our day, a deluge of rain soon began to pound the tarp above our heads. The torrential downpour swept in waves across the exposed wooden floor of the Lido deck, surrounding the pool and Jacuzzi at the rear of the ship. Just then, our friend Dave from Connecticut approached us and said hello. Dave Hass is a kind, grandfather type man, who stands, I'm guessing around 5'9". His grayed hair swept casually across his forehead in an obvious surrender to the wind on board. We invited him to join us, learning that Barbara had already gone to bed. We enjoyed our conversation with Dave as we meandered our way through numerous topics, finding common ground along the way. We discovered that Dave owns (or owned) an insurance agency, but that the business wasn’t what it once was thanks to oversized, under-experienced mega agencies. We learned that he was a respected square-dance caller, too. In fact you can find Dave
here. Our time, known from this point on as “Hangin’ with Dave,” lasted for just over an hour. Then it was time for bed. We said good-night to Dave and headed to our room.
I woke up this morning with the world in my arms, spent the day with a world below the surface of the water within arms’ reach and went to bed a world away from where I had been only days before. What a beautiful world we live in. What a beautiful woman to share my world with. Tomorrow: Tortola.
February 9: 12: Homer takes a business trip to New York City and comes back with a new understanding of what makes NYC the greatest city in America. Yes, unfortunately, he drank the punch... and bought a black, wool coat to fit in.
February 13: Homer and Alicia celebrate the one year anniversary of meeting face-to-face by reenacting their first date. Japanese hibachi, sushi, laughing, oogling, touching, treasuring. It was a good night.
February 19 & 20: Homer and Alicia sign the final documents and pick up the key to their home. They are halfway to being the uncool, home-owning, mini-van driving parents their kids will claim they are as teenagers.
March 5: After getting his own haircut, Homer tricks Chandler into sitting down in the barber chair in order to finally remove his flowing, golden locks.
