Tone Poeme, Trip Report Day 4
Posted: Wed Mar 25, 2009 3:41 pm
Tone Poeme, Trip Report Day 4
March 16, 2009
Stop.
Put on your favorite piece of music.
Proceed.
We cook our own breakfast in the Villa, lingering over the view of the storm approaching.
Mid day, we meet Captain Phil Chalker and Tarn in the park. They go off to prepare the Wayward Sailor. I sit on a bench admiring the Bridled Quail Doves. A tall thin local woman asks me for money. I smile and shake my head. All I have on me is my snorkel gear and some tic tacs. She doesn't believe me. She tells me how hungry she is. Again, I apologize. I have nothing. She doesn't believe me and rubs her stomach and repeats that she hasn't eaten in days, then wanders off. For a while I feel bad. But I see her a few minutes later walking through town with a drink.
Naughty, naughty step sitters..
We de-sand and board Captain Phil's Dinghy. I get the impression that even if it was cut loose, this little guy would still follow the Wayward Sailor like a puppy who loves his master.
We get underway and it starts to rain. Tarn passes out rain gear. The combination of salt spray and rain is exhilarating. Some sort of alchemy takes place,and I feel part of the surf and the sky.
A hole opens in the clouds, and the sun lights the waters off Lovango Cay. Captain Phil makes sure that each of us is set with our gear, and he tows a young lady who does not swim, so that she can experience snorkeling.
M and N follow a sting ray.
I love snorkeling. Whee!
A phalanx of urchins.
Sometimes I don't know if I am coming or going.
But, for today at least everything has a rightness to it.
March 16, 2009
Stop.
Put on your favorite piece of music.
Proceed.
We cook our own breakfast in the Villa, lingering over the view of the storm approaching.
Mid day, we meet Captain Phil Chalker and Tarn in the park. They go off to prepare the Wayward Sailor. I sit on a bench admiring the Bridled Quail Doves. A tall thin local woman asks me for money. I smile and shake my head. All I have on me is my snorkel gear and some tic tacs. She doesn't believe me. She tells me how hungry she is. Again, I apologize. I have nothing. She doesn't believe me and rubs her stomach and repeats that she hasn't eaten in days, then wanders off. For a while I feel bad. But I see her a few minutes later walking through town with a drink.
Naughty, naughty step sitters..
We de-sand and board Captain Phil's Dinghy. I get the impression that even if it was cut loose, this little guy would still follow the Wayward Sailor like a puppy who loves his master.
We get underway and it starts to rain. Tarn passes out rain gear. The combination of salt spray and rain is exhilarating. Some sort of alchemy takes place,and I feel part of the surf and the sky.
A hole opens in the clouds, and the sun lights the waters off Lovango Cay. Captain Phil makes sure that each of us is set with our gear, and he tows a young lady who does not swim, so that she can experience snorkeling.
M and N follow a sting ray.
I love snorkeling. Whee!
A phalanx of urchins.
Sometimes I don't know if I am coming or going.
But, for today at least everything has a rightness to it.
first thought: your days are SO good...reports are too
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