"Rum Makes You Dumb" - Part V - BIRTHDAY IN BVI'S!
Posted: Fri Aug 21, 2009 10:56 am
Monday, Aug 10 – Day Six – Drink Count (Leave me alone I turn 40 today) – Diversions from my uber-itinerary (NONE; actually added to it!)
I wake at 6:30, which is wrong
, so we can meet Capn John at the old ferry dock in Red Hook at 8:00 am sharp. We mix 2 gallons of rum punch and head on our merry way. One of the “cherries” is hanging low this morning from too many buckets o’rum yesterday (good Lord how will she handle the swells today on a 26’ boat?). The “honeymooners” arrive right on time, and soon after comes Capn John waving and smiling 
! We pile up and in, crack open some beer and head for West End, Tortola to check into customs.
We take a quick group pic (yes that is me on those t-shirts - - made for us by my wacky group of friends for our pool party / pre-birthday celebration). Yes, the caption is “It’s only flesh”.
Long story…
Capn John warns that if I don’t start drinking the rum punch now, time will slip away from us, and we’ll be left with all the punch. Well, don’t let that be
! I am the first to tap into the rum punch at 9:00, and it is YUMMIE (guava and pineapple juices and Cruzan, not much love as we normally would). Male “cherry”, in case I haven’t mentioned it, has a perpetual case of “moon exposure” with his pooh-bear tummy and lack of back-side support. So we take a quick pick of our “double moons” while waiting at the ferry terminal for our customs check-in. 
Rum Makes You Dumb act #1 of the day.
A few more rum punches, and we make a quick stop in Tortola to check in with the web-cam above the phone booth (or so Capn John said, I think he just likes to see us jump around screaming like idiots
).
We arrive at the Baths for our swim into shore. So I speed off like Michael Phelps ahead of the pack, but what everyone doesn’t realize is that I have to tee-tee like nobody’s business! We have been to the Baths many times, but this is a first for the “cherries” and honeymooners. So in honor of this, we first grab some painkillers
at the beach bar and try to navigate through the rocks with drink in hand. Rum Makes You Dumb act #2 of the day. Yes, there were scrapes and blood. But no drinks were spilled ! After the quick hike to Devil’s Bay, we decide to head back to the solace of the boat….and rum punch. We speed off to Sandy Spit, where we run into a bit of rain. Which diluted our drinks, making us sad 
. Once we swam onshore, the sun was out again. It’s so sad that the little leaning palm tree is gone!
I *think* drinks 5, 6 and 7 happened on the way to Foxy’s. After 5 trips to Foxy’s, the best b-day present was given to me! FOXY WAS THERE! SO HAPPY! He is a hoot! So in celebration I bought two t-shirts and a new pink cowboy hat. And had a painkiller, actually 2 if I have to fess up. You can see the “fuzziness” start to develop in these pics 
.
We head out to White Bay and Soggy Dollar, drinking yet another rum punch for the short trip. This is it! The best beach for last! The machinations of the uber-itinerary that was given to Capn John also (and his wife said it was too much for one day. Bah!). I swear it just gets better each time here.
Now, by the time I had another painkiller at Soggy Dollar, the ole’ memory starts to feel every bit of 40 going on 80. Just a TAD fuzzy as to what happened exactly here. I know I had a ½ of a chicken roti since I didn’t want to “waste time eating”. I know that I now own a pair of pink Soggy Dollar shorts (that don’t fit
), hubs has a BVI t-shirt (that is too big ), and we have a BVI sticker for our new car (we don’t have a new car?? ). What I don’t know is how long we were limin’ on the beach nor do I know how many painkillers passed these lips. I faintly remember rambling on that it’s in my will to scatter my ashes on White Bay (which is true) to whomever would listen to me say “I’se sooooo happ-E today; is miye birfday; these beakch ees the (burp) bestest beackch in the whool wiyde wor-uld!! I’se will hayve me arshes sapread heare (hiccup)” (Again, hope you speak drunken-ese). Obviously Rum Makes You Dumb act #3. Might add that acts #4 - #8 could have very well happened here also. 
Somehow, we end up at Willie T. This is it. The whole purpose of the trip. To jump from the Willie T on my 40th birthday, exposing some part of my birthday suit . As we pull in, the first thing greeting us is a buck-nekked man smiling ear-to-ear jumping off the deck. Might I add he SHOULD have had his trunks on (that I do remember). Note: He DIDN’T look like this:
That’s the Foxy monkey, by-the-way. NOT including the shots of us “loving” on the monkey…
We climb on board William Thorton. Someone orders a surfboard shot for four . I do believe a Kamikaze. Rum Makes You Dumb act #4 for sure. Luckily most of it spills on my chest as a shot was NOT needed at this point. So I head up the stairs to see what’s what. I take off my pink hat from Foxy’s and hand the disposable camera to hubs. I climb over the railing and look down. Look ALL the way down . Rum Makes You Dumb act #5. WHAT AM I DOING? Well, I guess, taking off my top and jumping, arms flailing, screaming like an idiot of course ! SMACK! I hit the water on the side of my thigh and a@# SO HARD it takes my breath away! I thought they were going to be scattering my ashes on White Bay TODAY! Tears of, something, roll down my cheeks. My other cheeks, as noted by everyone on the Willie T, are as pink as my newly-acquired cowboy hat from Foxy’s ! Rum Makes You Dumb act #6 FOR SURE. All captured on film . Hubs decides it’s his turn. He climbs over the rail, and HE WAS PANTS’ed! So there he is. Buck nekked in perfect dive formation like the Greek God he is. Minimal splash. German judge gives it a “10” . All captured on film . What isn’t perfect is that hubs was wearing his prescription sunglasses while diving . Rum Makes You Dumb act #7. So he, still nekked mind you, tries to swim down to hunt for them. Each time, his white arse leading the way. I told him to put his trunks back on, but all I got was “no, it slows me down”. He quickly realizes that he can’t swim down 30 feet without diving again from the top of the Willie T. So he swims over to the ladder…
LLBL: “PUT YOUR TRUNKS ON FIRST!”
Hubs: “No, slows me down hun!”
So another nekked dive later (all caught on film ), hubs comes back empty handed. Soon the whole of the Willie T is on the hunt for the glasses. WE SEE THEM! We just…can’t…dive…down…that…far…after…drinking…all…this…rum. So we give up.
Meanwhile, the other “cherries” and honeymooners all take the jump. SMACK as Miss “Cherry” lands the same fate as I. So, what the heck, I’ll go again too. What are the odds I will land exactly the same as I did last ………….SMACK!! Right on the thigh/a@# AGAIN!! Rum Makes You Dumb act #8. Soon the acts will out-number the drink count . Well, what no one tells you until WAY too late afterwards is that apparently you must dive with your arms STRAIGHT UP so you land in the water in a perfect pike position. Thus avoiding injury and pain. Great advice as we are LEAVING the Willie T 
! So I grab my pink hat from upstairs, and we head back to St. John for customs & gas.
I look back at hubs. He is blind as a bat and squinting in the sun without shades, so he simply hangs his head low. Way low
. We try to figure our part of the bill, but somehow the math of $630 / 3 is alluding us. Hubs pulls out all his cash and looks at it as if all of these bills are aliens with a third eye. Luckily “cherry” is there to help him count it. We thank Capn John for the BEST TRIP EVER (I do believe it will be posted on YouTube since he filmed the whole day, with edits I hope ), and head to Island Time Pub for PIZZA! We scarf down the greasy pieces of heaven like it’s our business (and I think a diet coke), and then we do believe it’s time to head home! After showering I think, man, my thighs hurt like HELL. I look in the mirror, and what do I see? Bruises the color of tornadic skies from the top of my arse down to my knees ! Stay tuned tomorrow for a pic. It’s not pretty. Hide the children. Boy, do I feel every bit of 40, as my head hits the pillow and try to sleep on my “good side”. Ouch.
Tomorrow the uber-itinerary calls for Secret Harbor and Sapphire. We’ll see…..
I wake at 6:30, which is wrong
, so we can meet Capn John at the old ferry dock in Red Hook at 8:00 am sharp. We mix 2 gallons of rum punch and head on our merry way. One of the “cherries” is hanging low this morning from too many buckets o’rum yesterday (good Lord how will she handle the swells today on a 26’ boat?). The “honeymooners” arrive right on time, and soon after comes Capn John waving and smiling ! We pile up and in, crack open some beer and head for West End, Tortola to check into customs. We take a quick group pic (yes that is me on those t-shirts - - made for us by my wacky group of friends for our pool party / pre-birthday celebration). Yes, the caption is “It’s only flesh”.
Long story…Capn John warns that if I don’t start drinking the rum punch now, time will slip away from us, and we’ll be left with all the punch. Well, don’t let that be
! I am the first to tap into the rum punch at 9:00, and it is YUMMIE (guava and pineapple juices and Cruzan, not much love as we normally would). Male “cherry”, in case I haven’t mentioned it, has a perpetual case of “moon exposure” with his pooh-bear tummy and lack of back-side support. So we take a quick pick of our “double moons” while waiting at the ferry terminal for our customs check-in. Rum Makes You Dumb act #1 of the day. A few more rum punches, and we make a quick stop in Tortola to check in with the web-cam above the phone booth (or so Capn John said, I think he just likes to see us jump around screaming like idiots
).We arrive at the Baths for our swim into shore. So I speed off like Michael Phelps ahead of the pack, but what everyone doesn’t realize is that I have to tee-tee like nobody’s business! We have been to the Baths many times, but this is a first for the “cherries” and honeymooners. So in honor of this, we first grab some painkillers
at the beach bar and try to navigate through the rocks with drink in hand. Rum Makes You Dumb act #2 of the day. Yes, there were scrapes and blood. But no drinks were spilled ! After the quick hike to Devil’s Bay, we decide to head back to the solace of the boat….and rum punch. We speed off to Sandy Spit, where we run into a bit of rain. Which diluted our drinks, making us sad . Once we swam onshore, the sun was out again. It’s so sad that the little leaning palm tree is gone! I *think* drinks 5, 6 and 7 happened on the way to Foxy’s. After 5 trips to Foxy’s, the best b-day present was given to me! FOXY WAS THERE! SO HAPPY!
He is a hoot! So in celebration I bought two t-shirts and a new pink cowboy hat. And had a painkiller, actually 2 if I have to fess up. You can see the “fuzziness” start to develop in these pics .We head out to White Bay and Soggy Dollar, drinking yet another rum punch for the short trip. This is it! The best beach for last! The machinations of the uber-itinerary that was given to Capn John also (and his wife said it was too much for one day. Bah!). I swear it just gets better each time here.
Now, by the time I had another painkiller at Soggy Dollar, the ole’ memory starts to feel every bit of 40 going on 80. Just a TAD fuzzy as to what happened exactly here. I know I had a ½ of a chicken roti since I didn’t want to “waste time eating”. I know that I now own a pair of pink Soggy Dollar shorts (that don’t fit
), hubs has a BVI t-shirt (that is too big ), and we have a BVI sticker for our new car (we don’t have a new car?? ). What I don’t know is how long we were limin’ on the beach nor do I know how many painkillers passed these lips. I faintly remember rambling on that it’s in my will to scatter my ashes on White Bay (which is true) to whomever would listen to me say “I’se sooooo happ-E today; is miye birfday; these beakch ees the (burp) bestest beackch in the whool wiyde wor-uld!! I’se will hayve me arshes sapread heare (hiccup)” (Again, hope you speak drunken-ese). Obviously Rum Makes You Dumb act #3. Might add that acts #4 - #8 could have very well happened here also. Somehow, we end up at Willie T. This is it. The whole purpose of the trip. To jump from the Willie T on my 40th birthday, exposing some part of my birthday suit
. As we pull in, the first thing greeting us is a buck-nekked man smiling ear-to-ear jumping off the deck. Might I add he SHOULD have had his trunks on (that I do remember). Note: He DIDN’T look like this:That’s the Foxy monkey, by-the-way. NOT including the shots of us “loving” on the monkey…
We climb on board William Thorton. Someone orders a surfboard shot for four
. I do believe a Kamikaze. Rum Makes You Dumb act #4 for sure. Luckily most of it spills on my chest as a shot was NOT needed at this point. So I head up the stairs to see what’s what. I take off my pink hat from Foxy’s and hand the disposable camera to hubs. I climb over the railing and look down. Look ALL the way down . Rum Makes You Dumb act #5. WHAT AM I DOING? Well, I guess, taking off my top and jumping, arms flailing, screaming like an idiot of course ! SMACK! I hit the water on the side of my thigh and a@# SO HARD it takes my breath away! I thought they were going to be scattering my ashes on White Bay TODAY! Tears of, something, roll down my cheeks. My other cheeks, as noted by everyone on the Willie T, are as pink as my newly-acquired cowboy hat from Foxy’s ! Rum Makes You Dumb act #6 FOR SURE. All captured on film . Hubs decides it’s his turn. He climbs over the rail, and HE WAS PANTS’ed! So there he is. Buck nekked in perfect dive formation like the Greek God he is. Minimal splash. German judge gives it a “10” . All captured on film . What isn’t perfect is that hubs was wearing his prescription sunglasses while diving . Rum Makes You Dumb act #7. So he, still nekked mind you, tries to swim down to hunt for them. Each time, his white arse leading the way. I told him to put his trunks back on, but all I got was “no, it slows me down”. He quickly realizes that he can’t swim down 30 feet without diving again from the top of the Willie T. So he swims over to the ladder…LLBL: “PUT YOUR TRUNKS ON FIRST!”
Hubs: “No, slows me down hun!”
So another nekked dive later (all caught on film
), hubs comes back empty handed. Soon the whole of the Willie T is on the hunt for the glasses. WE SEE THEM! We just…can’t…dive…down…that…far…after…drinking…all…this…rum. So we give up. Meanwhile, the other “cherries” and honeymooners all take the jump. SMACK as Miss “Cherry” lands the same fate as I. So, what the heck, I’ll go again too. What are the odds I will land exactly the same as I did last ………….SMACK!! Right on the thigh/a@# AGAIN!!
Rum Makes You Dumb act #8. Soon the acts will out-number the drink count . Well, what no one tells you until WAY too late afterwards is that apparently you must dive with your arms STRAIGHT UP so you land in the water in a perfect pike position. Thus avoiding injury and pain. Great advice as we are LEAVING the Willie T ! So I grab my pink hat from upstairs, and we head back to St. John for customs & gas. I look back at hubs. He is blind as a bat and squinting in the sun without shades, so he simply hangs his head low. Way low
. We try to figure our part of the bill, but somehow the math of $630 / 3 is alluding us. Hubs pulls out all his cash and looks at it as if all of these bills are aliens with a third eye. Luckily “cherry” is there to help him count it. We thank Capn John for the BEST TRIP EVER (I do believe it will be posted on YouTube since he filmed the whole day, with edits I hope ), and head to Island Time Pub for PIZZA! We scarf down the greasy pieces of heaven like it’s our business (and I think a diet coke), and then we do believe it’s time to head home! After showering I think, man, my thighs hurt like HELL. I look in the mirror, and what do I see? Bruises the color of tornadic skies from the top of my arse down to my knees ! Stay tuned tomorrow for a pic. It’s not pretty. Hide the children. Boy, do I feel every bit of 40, as my head hits the pillow and try to sleep on my “good side”. Ouch.Tomorrow the uber-itinerary calls for Secret Harbor and Sapphire. We’ll see…..
