Hello LilyOnTheLam.Com Readers:
This is Part Six in my blog posts about my vacation in the British Virgin Islands. I am writing this in the "cockpit" of the Yacht Promenade - a trimaran sailing charter. It is 7:38 p.m. and I am listening to The Smiths' song "This Charming Man." I just took a much needed shower and I am hoping the cool night air dries my hair before dinner. I hate being without a hair dryer - but having a hair dryer on a sailboat is tres cheesy ... so wet-headed I must be! If you want the full effect of this blog post, get yourself on a trimaran, wet down your hair, crank up The Smiths and read along. ;-)
Wow, a fish just jumped out of the water and flew for a second before diving back into the water. Boy. what fish will do to get a shout out in a blog!
I slept soundly last night but had what I have now deemed to be a Benadryl nightmare -- I dreamed that my sister wanted to leave the boat so she hired a helicopter to come pick her up and take her back to the States - and then left me with the $20,000 price tag. I woke up really angry. I looked over at my sleeping sister and shook my finger at her - NO HELICOPTERS FOR YOU! And then I went back to sleep.
It was around 9:30 a.m. when I pulled myself out of bed. Squidge and I have cemented ourselves as the last two on the boat to get up every day. We wear the title with honor. I decided to let Squidge sleep in - this was her vacation after all. I grabbed some fruit, yogurt, granola and two pieces of cinnamon toast for breakfast. CARBO-LOADING. I never eat that many carbs and sugars for breakfast, but I rationalized that it was my vacation after all too.
Captain Chad said they were closing up the breakfast items but that he would make Squidge breakfast when she awoke. (Very sweet.) I informed him that he might be making breakfast for Squidge at 3 p.m. He said that it would be no problem. (Again, very sweet - did I happen to mention the fluffy-haired Captain of this sailing charter is very nice? I'm obsessed with Captain Chad's hair. I plan on shaving his head before I leave this trip. I figure I can fashion a mock-chia pet of some sort ... a Chad Pet, to take back to the States with me.)
Squidge eventually appeared upstairs - in her sixonetwo tank top. 612 is the area code for Minneapolis. Squidge grew up in the 651 area code, but now lives in 612. She informed me that 612 is cool and 651 is not. I grew up in the 612 area code - perhaps that is why I am so freaking cool.
Captain Chad brought Squidge a plate with two fried eggs, some ham and 2 slices of toast buttered. The other guests looked at the hand-delivered plate and said "Hey, we didn't get any ham! We didn't get such a nice plate! Squidge is obviously Chad's favorite." Squidge just happily ate her eggs ... not the first time this Princess has received VIP service. She's absolutely used to the Princess treatment.
After breakfast, we would be sailing away from Peter Island and toward Salt Island so the SCUBA divers in our group could dive the wreck of the Rhone-- one of the shipwreck sites you must see if you are in the BVI. The water is so clear that even if you snorkel you can at least see the top of the wreck.
I was continuing to read my Tyler Hamilton book - which I must say I am thoroughly engrossed with and fascinated with both the world of competitive cycling and doping. Squidge decided she was going to lay on the trampoline (the netting between the hulls of the trimaran) as the boat sailed along. I decided that since I was already in a swimsuit, I should be on the trampoline as well. We laid on our bellies and watched the trimaran skip along the waves with big white sails full of the warm BVI wind. For some unknown reason (severe head trauma?), I sang Bob Marley songs in a mouse voice- changing choice words with the word "cheese." Squidge looked at me like I was two bricks of Gouda short of a cheese house. I just kept singing in a squeaky mouse voice.
I watched the activity on Tortola ahead of us. It seemed like we were in our own world - no jobs, no school, no responsibilities - only laying on the trampoline, getting tan, digesting our breakfast and watching the world go by.
After sailing for quite some time, Captain Chad and Felix pulled in the sails and we started motoring toward Salt Island. At the faster speed, more waves were splashing up through the netting of the trampoline. Squidge and I laughed loudly as we became more and more saturated from the spray. Finally we had had enough waterboarding and made our way closer to the cockpit of the boat. I stretched out on the deck and let the sun dry me. I looked down at my arms and a fine coating of white powder appeared - salt! Natural exfoliation, courtesy of the BVI.
We arrived off the coast of Salt Island near the site of the Rhone shipwreck. Felix and Jessica took turns tending to barbecue chicken on the grill attached to the back of the trimaran. Lunch was bacon, barbecue chicken, rolls and leftover chicken and mushroom pasta from last night's dinner. Everything was great, but the barbecue chicken was particularly delicious.
After lunch and some sun, the SCUBA divers got their gear together to do the Rhone dive. Miss B got in a "noodle chair" - a floating chair and crew member Jessica went into the water to keep her company. They had a tow line so they could pull themselves back to the boat. Jessica brought Miss B a beer - what a great crew member! Can't float without a beer!
Since Squidge passed out last night after reeling in a fish, she decided to stay on the boat, laying in the shade and work on her organic chemistry homework. I kicked back on the bow. enjoying the sun and reading more of my Tyler Hamilton book.
The SCUBA divers saw some sea turtles around the shipwreck. I can't wait to see their video of the dive. We then pulled up anchor and motored to the other side of Salt Island - one of my favorite places in the world. Salt Island sends a pound of salt every year to the Queen of England as their tax tribute to the Queen. Sadly the local caretaker who lived on the island had passed away. I had met him in 2007. He was sick and at the hospital when I was back in 2009. He passed away in 2012. I visited his grave and paid my respects. This side of Salt Island also had the cemetery for the victims of the Rhone wreck. But why I like Salt Island so much is that it is one of the best places to find sea glass. Back in the days of the pirates, ships would anchor near the calm cove of Salt Island for the night. They would drink it up and throw their bottles (rum?) into the sea. The waters would shine up the rough edges of the broken shards of glass and they would wash up upon the sea - frosted smooth treasures.
Because Salt Island is so well-known for its sea glass, sometimes you can find some great finds and other times the beach has been well-picked over. The rocks along the coastline in front of the Rhone victims cemetery is a good place to look for pieces of sea glass that have been wedged between the rocks when the tide comes in.
Felix took five of us in the dinghy over to the dock on Salt Island. The water was too rough for a beach landing, so we climbed the dock like a ladder and Felix passed us our shoes and bags. When I am on a sailing charter, I never wear shoes - but for sea glass combing on Salt Island I bring aqua shoes. Squidge and I bought Sporti brand aqua shoes from SwimOutlet.com for $12.99 - they worked much better than a pair I had purchased for much more at Land's End.
Squidge and the other ladies went to the right of the dock toward the Rhone victims cemetery to look for sea glass. I went to the left ... I didn't need the competition for finding sea glass, heh heh. Miss D likes to find blue sea glass to match her tropical-themed bedroom. I am partial to green pieces of sea glass. People drink on Salt Island, so up on the beaches you'll find lots of shattered bottles. We call this "new glass" and do not pick it up - it's still jagged and sharp. I prefer the thick pieces of glasses, frosted and smoothed by the sea - ones that conjure images of 1800's Pirates getting drunk amongst piles of pilfered booty.
I found a beautiful conch shell in the water and placed it on the dock to dry out in the sun. I am always tempted to take home conch shells, but being from Florida I already have a large amount of sea shells in my house. This Salt Island visit is all about the sea glass. Since I have been to Salt Island before, I had given Squidge a heads up to bring aqua shoes and a plastic ziplock bag to collect the sea glass treasures. We combed the beach and filled our gallon-sized bags about 1/3 full. It was slim pickings on Salt Island today. We then went to pay our respects to the bodies buried on Salt Island and then walked down to the salt flats. The water level was high which was a welcome sight - when the water level is low the salt flats emit a stinky, putrid smell. The water had a white ring along the waterline upon the beach - pure salt.
The other guests signaled Felix to come pick them up, but Squidge wanted to stay on the island a bit longer. I took photos of the beginning sunset and some great silhouette shots of Squidge dancing along the shore. There was a large sailboat in front of the Yacht Promenade. I could hear them all the way from the island. Corporate party boat. Why doesn't my company have a BVI party sailboat?
By the way, I am now listening to "Summer Skin" by Death Cab For Cutie. One of my favorite "deep thoughts" songs ... I am sitting here watching Captain Chad grill kabobs for dinner, the slow rolling water and the twinkling lights on Tortola. I would be having deep thoughts while listening to the "Summer Skin," but Captain Chad is grilling shirtless and so I am a bit distracted. Not a lot of deep thinking going on when staring at a really nice tanned chest ... just saying. (Captain Chad just came back from escorting a night dive - he usually isn't just cooking shirtless.)
After Squidge rolled in the rising tide for about twenty more minutes - assuring that she was thoroughly coated in sand, we decided to head back to the boat. I waved to the Yacht Promenade and Felix saw me and waved back. He hopped into the dinghy and picked us up on the dock. It was a quick ride back to the Yacht Promenade. I stood on the side of the boat and hosed the sand off me, then off of Squidge and our aqua shoes and then hosed down the deck. I think we brought half the beach back with us ... sand everywhere.
It was cocktail hour on the Yacht Promenade. Captain Chad brought us towels and today's featured cocktail. I think it's called a banana boat, but I named it the Chocolate Chad. It was chocolate and banana and some sort of liquor and pieces of chocolate frozen in it and whipped cream and I think a dash of love. It was FANTASTIC. The snack of the day was a tray of crackers with various cheeses and meats (canapes?) Yum-a-licious. After drying off, we joined the ladies and joined in on the munchies.
After the sunset, our SCUBA divers put on their dive skins and wet suits and geared up for a night dive. Squidge and I headed to the showers to scrub the remaining hidden sand off our bodies. It felt good to be properly clean! Afterward, Squidge headed to our cabin to do her organic chemistry homework and I came to the cockpit to work on my blog. Eventually the SCUBA divers came back from their night dive - they had a great time and Captain Chad shifted gears from Dive Master to Master Chef, leaving Felix to put away the air tanks.
And here I am typing ... oops the first bell rang ... means 5 or 10 minutes to dinner. Talk about timing, eh? Squidge will probably forego night fishing tonight to finish working on her organic chemistry. I will probably fish for a little while. I get impatient, but perhaps I'll play some music to keep me occupied. And there's also my book ... did I mention I am obsessed with it? I am! ;-)
Squidge just popped up from the cabin - when people hear the first bell, they come up to get their drinks ready. A ginger beer for me, a Sprite for Squidge. Thanks for reading along so far ... I'll write more after dinner!
9:50 p.m. Jessica and Felix are cleaning up, getting the boat ready for tomorrow. Our charter of guests tend to turn in early - I have been on hard-partying sailing charters and my liver is grateful that this group of guests is pretty mellow. We expend our energy during the day and then turn in early. Squidge is in our cabin doing her organic chemistry homework. Two days ago I saw a small bug in our room - a cross between a silverfish and a cockroach. I tried to kill it, but it evaded me. When I told Squidge about the bug, she was NOT happy. Somehow I didn't realize my sister was not a friend of bugs. She worried about the bug getting into bed with her or crawling into her mouth while she was asleep.
So tonight when we went down to our cabin after dinner, she was sitting on her bed and I was standing in front of the sink (really only room for one person to be standing in the small cabin at one time). I looked over and saw the same bug from a couple days before -- crawling on Squidge's bed. I tried to kill it, but again it was too fast for me. Squidge started freaking out. I tried to pretend that I did kill it but she demanded to see the corpse - and I had to fess up that it was not smooshed in the tissue I held in my hand. Squidge began ranting about how now it would crawl into her mouth. She left the cabin to go to the bathroom and I said in a not very reassuring voice that I would find the bug and kill it before I got back. She said that I better!
I looked around her mattress and sheets - no sign of the bug, who I had now named Mr. Cucaracha. Which Squidge did NOT find amusing. When Squidge returned from the bathroom, I just shook my head in shame. Evidently, I would not be the insect killer heroine of this story. Squidge shook out her sheets and took her pillow out of the pillowcase. She peered into the pillowcase and said "Are you in there?" As if Mr. Cucaracha could speak!
I decided to leave the cabin to let Squidge study in peace. I hoped that Mr. Cucaracha would not attack while I was away. I came up on deck in the cockpit. This is one of my favorite places to sit at night - the cockpit is illuminated with white twinkly lights - like Christmas lights encased in plastic tubes. Everything just glows in the dark night. The moon is but a bottom sliver crescent and the stars are so bright here in the absence of much artificial light. Felix, done for the day, is enjoying a beer and looking out at the water. Sometimes I like to sleep on the boat's trampoline - letting the slow, gentle rocking of the boat cradle me to a blissful slumber.
So where were we before the tale of Mr. Cucaracha? Ahhh yes, dinner time. Captain Chad had grilled steak and shrimp kabobs that he served with roasted potatoes and sour cream. They were very delicious. I seriously love anything grilled. I know the char is supposed to be carcinogenic, but gosh darn it - it tastes good! We gobbled down the food as the SCUBA divers told us about their night dive. I hadn't realized that they went back to the shipwreck of the Rhone to do their night dive. A shipwreck at night - I would have been freaked out from the eerieness. I was very proud of Miss D, who received her SCUBA certification before the British Virgin Islands trip. This was her fourth dive of the trip and her first ever night dive. She is very brave and adventurous! Evidently there were a lot of sharp-spined sea urchins around the shipwreck and luckily none of our divers were gored.
Miss D said that Captain Chad held her hand as they did the night SCUBA dive because she was scared - this being her first night dive and at an eerie shipwreck site too! I wonder if I tell Captain Chad that I am scared while suntanning if he'll hold my hand too. Hahahhahahah .... ;-)
Miss B is extra-excited that we'll be seeing her favorite singer Michael Beans on Valentine's Day. One of the aspects of Michael Beans' show is that each table blows a conch shell to see who can blow it the longest. Despite my grade school clarinet playing, I can't blow a conch shell to save my life. It is my tragic failing that I must own. Sigh ... Miss B grabbed a conch shell from the helm and said that we must all practice for tomorrow's big show. Squidge, the youngest of the guests, had to start first. She slid the conch to Miss B and said "I need a demonstration first." Touche, Squidge.
Miss E demonstrated and everyone at the table gave tips on lip positions and the proper method to blow. Miss B asked Captain Chad to put on some Michael Beans songs to get us in the mood. We passed along the conch and as a group, we were not as stellar as Miss B would have liked. But then Miss E, a SCUBA diver, took a deep breath and she blew into the conch making a trumpeting noise for 25.8 seconds straight! That lady can sure blow a conch! Miss B nodded approvingly - Miss E would be our representative for any conch blowing at tomorrow's Michael Beans show. Thank goodness, I was afraid Miss B would exile us all to the boat and not allow us to go if we couldn't blow the conch!
Miss D, our newest SCUBA diver, has had water in her ears since after the night dive. Squidge, a former competitive swimmer, showed her how to shake her head to try to get the water out. However it did not help. Jessica went to get Q-tips and rubbing alcohol - the alcohol will help dry out the water in the ear canal. Miss B called out "And bring a shot glass!" As if we had finished off all the alcohol on the boat and were now moving on to doing shots of rubbing alcohol! (By the way, the Yacht Promenade has so much alcohol on it - I think all guests would die of liver failure before all the liquor was polished off!)
Miss D and Miss E each grabbed a Q-tip and dipped it into the shot glass of rubbing alcohol and began applying it to their ears. Squidge leaned in and grabbed one too. I looked at her puzzled ... Squidge hadn't even swam today, much less dove. She just laughed and said "My ears need cleaning too!" Crazy Squidge.
After the conch blowing and the rubbing alcohol shots, the guests were exhausted. Even Miss B, an avid fisherwoman, told Felix she just wasn't up for night fishing. But she asked Felix to join us for a drink instead - so we had a last nightcap before everyone went to their cabins. When the guests go to bed, so do the crew - sleep is precious and they are working non-stop.
And now here I am ... 10:20 p.m., sitting in the cockpit, enjoying the cool sea breeze under the white lights. Occasionally I can hear laughter from the corporate party boat anchored maybe 150 feet away, but I have my headphones on - so the interruptions are minimal. It is so peaceful. Captain Bazza's boat, "Buoy Boy" is anchored behind the Yacht Promenade. I watch it bob gently on the slow rolling waves, Its anchor light illuminating its open cockpit. It's like our mini lighthouse.
I can't see Salt Island anymore, even though we are anchored in swimming distance from it. There isn't any electricity on the island that I know of and now that the caretaker has passed away, I don't think anyone lives on the island anymore. I wonder if I could disconnect - do without electricity and running water, living on an island. Seeing that I am sitting on an electrically lit sailboat on an iPad with wifi, listening to my 5th generation iPod Touch ... I think it would be a challenge, to say the least.
There are 11 people currently on this trimaran (two more will arrive Saturday) and yet right now I feel like I am the only person here. Everyone else-- guests and crew-- are in their cabins. Towels and diving wetsuits sway in the night breeze from the improvised clothes line. I swear if I listen closely I can hear my soul whispering to me. The secrets of the Universe are waiting to unfold to us, if we only stop to listen.
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