So- We Went to St. Ann’s Afterall…

But we didn’t inhale.

It was noted in a previous post dated May 6, 2019 that the crew of Exit Strategy took a pass on stopping in St. Ann’s- home of Jamaica’s herbal  (marijuana) tourism center of Kaya Farms. At that point in time, we had already cruised past it and anchored in Ocho Rios, Jamaica’s main cruise ship port. (The three other ports are: Kingston, Montego Bay, and Falmouth Harbor.)

We abhor busy harbors and were planning to bypass Ocho Rios, too; however, I had begun to have symptoms of a detached retina in my right eye. What started with what I thought was a smudge on the inside corner of my glasses developed within days to a black curtain that covered nearly three-fourths of my field of vision of my eye. An online search indicated that there were three ophthalmology offices located there, which offered good odds at seeing a doctor. We arrived in Ocho Rios on a Sunday.  On Monday, I began calling ophthalmology centers at 8:30am when their business hours began.  By 9am, I learned that none were in office on Mondays.  The two within walking distance were scheduled to be in on Wednesday. The third one was seven miles away in St. Ann's, and I was assured that the doctor could examine my eye on Tuesday at 9am.  I made the appointment and the scheduler said, “That’ll be 5000 JD.”  (approximately $34 USD)

We immediately made arrangement to have a taxi take us to St. Ann's for the Tuesday morning appointment, agreeing on a 1000 JD one-way price (approx. $8 USD).  The taxi didn't show on Tuesday morning, so a local man on the street helped us flag down a route taxi that was headed there, costing $4 USD one-way.

After my eyes were dilated, the ophthalmologist, who had been trained in the USA, declared that I did indeed have a detached retina and said it should be repaired "yesterday."  I suppose that was his way of conveying to us that it was an urgent matter. He explained that the University of the West Indies Hospital in Kingston had staff and the facilities to perform the procedure.  He also explained the probable lengthy recovery period (4-6 weeks), adding that we may want to consider having it fixed in the states.

The route taxi ride back to Ocho Rios gave us time to digest what the doc said and then we discussed the options thoroughly upon returning to the boat. It was May 21st and we needed to get Exit Strategy southward to Curaçao before hurricane season began on June 1st.  I had a flight scheduled to go up to the states on June 16th. Then on June 26th, I was booked to fly to Bogotá, Columbia with Becky's family to tour for a month.  Dan planned to haul the boat out for new bottom paint in Curaçao and meet us in Bogotá on the 26th.

There was no way that having the eye surgery done in Jamaica made any sense.  The recovery from the eye surgery disallowed me the option to sail OR fly for 4-6 weeks and we needed to get the boat south for the season.

We wasted no time in alerting our family in Michigan and asked them to secure an appointment with an ophthalmologist ASAP. I flew up there on Wednesday-May 22nd and saw a doc at 8AM on Thursday-May 23rd.  Later that morning at 10:45AM, I had the surgery to repair the "horseshoe-shaped" tear in my retina. I am so grateful to Becky and Jeff for coordinating and driving me to the multiple appointments.

The eye patch was removed after 6 hours and I was thrilled to SEE, not clearly at first, but it steadily improved. My normal activity was somewhat limited, but the doc was pleased with the healing of the retina within the first week.

However, there is more to tell.  Stay tuned!

Movin' On with Marty

I have five brothers who are as different as the night and day. And I dearly LOVE each one for a different reason.  Of the five, only one is crazy enough to want to sail with us annually and his name is Marty.  Not only does he enjoy sailing, but this year Marty even wanted to experience passage making on board Exit Strategy! 

Hm, I thought, if he joins us on passage then he can take a turn on night watch and I can sleep more!  Yeah, and he likes to cook, so I’ll cook less.  FANTASTIC!  He’s an avid fisherman and we’ll be feasting on his catch of the day!!!

“Come on down!” Captain Dan and I quickly responded. And so, it happened that my brother and his friend Rick flew into Montego Bay, Jamaica last month to join us on a passage to Grand Cayman. (Although Rick likes to say that HE brought Marty to sail with us.)

Rick, deep in thought 

We spent a few days showing them around Montego Bay and urging them to try some local foods spiced with jerk, as well as some ackee and salt fish- Jamaica’s national dish.  On another day we hired a driver to take us up into the Blue Mountains where the rough road snaked through fields of coffee, bananas, pineapples, mangos, and citrus.  

Feeling the need to move on to Grand Cayman, we arranged for Customs and Immigration to meet us ashore in order to complete our clearance papers. That afternoon, we experienced the full meaning of "soon come" being as it took the officials about three hours to meet us at the designated place.  It was a true exercise in character building. The crew of Exit Strategy were rather patient; only our two guests escaped to the bar to refresh themselves after the first two hours. 

The wind was predicted to be astern and it was.  It just wasn't sailable. (Is that even a word???) However, we began motoring and stayed the course hoping that more favorable winds would materialize.  They did not.

Captain Dan took his usual first watch of the night and Marty volunteered to take the second. Then, sweetheart that he is, Marty let me sleep an extra hour before I reported to relieve him of watch duty. Rick groggily joined me in the cockpit just after sunrise.  He was most appreciative of the mug of coffee I gave him.  Everything was fine on deck, so I went below to brew a second pot.

I swear- I wasn't below for more than a minute when Rick sheepishly poked his head through the companionway and said, "I think the boat is going in circles." I hurried to secure things in the salon and rushed to the helm.  The vessel was indeed turning in circles and the centrifugal force had sprayed Rick's coffee about the cockpit.  A check of the instruments showed that the autopilot had let go, so it was easy to get us back on course. BUT not before the Captain gruffly entered the cockpit to see what had stirred him from his restful slumber. Fortunately, the rest of the motor-sail was fine and Marty caught a mahi mahi for our dinner.

CRUISERS: If you travel to Grand Cayman,
do not anchor off 7-Mile Beach by the Weston Resort

We cleared into Georgetown, Grand Cayman and spent a night in the bay.  It is called Hog Sty Bay for a very good reason-  it smells like a hog pen when the wind is slight.  The next day we moved to anchor about midway along Seven Mile Beach (Grand Cayman, not Jamaica).  This spot off the Weston Resort turned out to be one of the busiest places on the coast with parasailing or tubing runabouts, jet skiers, and wayward Hobie cats.  The next day we moved again to tuck into the far corner of West Bay.  Here we found some solace and exquisite snorkeling.  

Oh, and we also walked to HELL and back. (Hell, Grand Cayman was named by a Brit
eons ago when he discovered the rugged terrain and said, "This must be what hell looks like.")

From this location, we did a self-guided walking tour to the Turtle Conservation Center (AKA the Turtle Farm where most are raised for meat and about 20% released to the wild) and Hell (strictly a tourist trap, but we succumbed). Our favorite place on Grand Cayman during previous vacations was Rum Point. Therefore, another day was spent finding our way there via the local bus routes.  Marty and I wanted to stop at the QE II Botanical Gardens, so we took different buses and planned to meet Dan at Rum Point for lunch.

The gardens were quite impressive and artistically arranged with just enough splashes of rich colors for the dry and rainy season. But once Rick, Marty, and I got there, we couldn't leave...literally.  That stop is not on the bus route, so the woman at the gardens called to have a bus swing by.  She called several drivers and no one was available.  Finally, one man said he'd come by.  About two hours later he did and the woman was happy because she said there was only one other driver to call, but she was reluctant to because that driver was a "Crazy Lady."

Couldn't resist snapping a picture of this rooster.

Our bus swung out onto the main road and shortly was flagged down- lights flashing- by a bus heading in the opposite direction. The other bus driver was a large lady wearing huge floppy bunny ears and she was insisting that our driver let US get into her bus.  It was very confusing until I looked more closely at the person in window behind the bunny eared driver and realized it was DANNY!  He seemed to be trying to escape, but the door would not open.  I got out of our bus to talk to him through his small window.  He did not look pleased when I said we would meet him back in Georgetown AFTER we had lunch in Rum Point.

Rum Point was a big disappointment and in retrospect, Dan and I really should have known that it wouldn't remain the quaint, laid back beach that we knew and loved.  Throngs of tourists were on the beach or standing in cues at the multiple bar and grill stands.  It was sad.

To complete our adventure with Marty and Rick, we moved a bit along the north coast of the island for a few days to take refuge from an ocean swell that was coming into Seven Mile Beach area. It was a nice quiet end to their stay and they easily arranged a taxi to the airport from there.  

Grand Cayman was GRAND

        The Cayman Islands lie south of central Cuba and a day's sail northwest of Jamaica.  The island group is comprised of Grand Cayman, Cayman Brac, and Little Cayman.  During this cruising season, we only had time to explore Grand Cayman, the largest and most populated of the group, where the capital city of Georgetown is located.  We had flown there twice before to vacation and although we saw a remarkable increase in hotels and restaurants along its white sand beaches, were were not quite prepared to realize that even more had been erected since we last visited to satisfy their thirst for tourism dollars.  

        

     Our interest, of course, was to explore Grand Cayman's many dive sites.  There are 234 well marked and maintained buoyed dive sites.  Some popular sites along 7-Mile Beach have more than one buoy to accommodate more than one boat at a time.

      While diving you see the usual fish, sponges, and corals found in Caribbean waters, but the reef formations vary greatly from the sites we've dived in Bonaire and St. Croix.  There are tall reefs, tunnels, and a number of wrecks easily accessible in depths of 45-70 feet.  

        There is a Turtle Farm on Grand Cayman where green sea turtles are raised for food, and you will find at least one turtle dish offered on each menu.  However, the farm also releases a good percentage of the turtles into the sea when they are big enough to be more likely to survive predators.

       The only challenge to diving in Grand Cayman on your own was finding a dive shop that was accessible by dinghy and willing to refill your air tanks.  Luckily, after asking a lot of questions along the beach, we found one shop in Georgetown and another on the north coast of the island.

     

      Conch were plentiful and in season while we were on Grand Cayman.  They seemed more active, also, as we often saw them on the move and leaving a trail in the sand.

Jamaica Shares Its Healing Herb

Our last visit to Jamaica was in the spring of 2014. During that trip and all previous Jamaican vacations, we smelled marijuana smoke or saw someone toking up in the distance on pretty much a daily basis.  Occasionally, a local would approach us quietly to see if we had an interest in buying some, but it was seldom out in the open.

That was then. This is now.

This box was full every morning in full site on 7-Mile Beach in Bloody Bay.

Yes, during this visit, we were surprised to find that ‘Mary Jane’ had been let out of the closet. Just about every time we sortied ashore we met someone who was openly selling grass or rolling up a fatty...on the beach, in outdoor restaurants.

We soon learned that in 2015, Jamaica changed their laws concerning the herb. Jamaicans are now allowed to grow up to five plants for personal use.  They are also allowed to carry up to two ounces or less on them at any time. And use of cannabis in public places was made legal for all residents of the island.

The Jamaican government didn’t want to discriminate against tourists, though, especially when more and more states in the USA were allowing the use of marijuana for medicinal purposes. The new laws say that visitors can also purchase and use ganja on island if they have permission from a doctor. You don’t have a permit from your doctor for medical marijuana use? 

 No problem, Mon.

Jamaica’s Tourism Board and Government put their heads together and set up a business complex on the island’s north shore in the previously quaint town of St. Ann’s*.  Kaya Farms** is a full service center with doctors available to issue you a permit for medical use.  Other offerings include tours of the herb house, a café, a wellness spa, and smoking rooms.  

*The crew of Exit Strategy did not visit St. Ann’s during this cruise.

**Kaya is yet another slang term for cannabis.

BLOODY BAY- Not Just Another Divers Paradise

Baby Yellow Stingray

Bloody Bay is just north of the town of Negril on Jamaica’s west coast.  Bloody Bay is called so because it was where whalers of the early 19^th century towed their catch to clean and rend the blubber to be used for oil.  Today it is another “7 Mile Beach” of the Caribbean lined with posh resorts and vendors to suit all budgets.

Do you see the leggy shrimp?

Today Bloody Bay is also a DIVERS PARADISE, but we could find no dive buoys! So, we resorted to signing up for some trips with one of the beachside dive shops. On the way to the first site, I asked the Captain if he used GPS to locate the sites.  He slowly turned his smiling face toward me and said, “I doin’ dis fa tirty yehs.  I know where day be.”  

Peek-a-Boo Lobster

A short time later, he stopped the boat and we descended to follow our guide, Kirk, to “The Gallery”.  This spot was aptly named, as it had so many interesting things and places to explore.  There were lengthy ledges to swim under with huge stands of black coral growing above. There was an abundance of familiar reef fish and critters, as well as a healthy dose of sponges in hues a tad different than we’d ever seen.

My favorite type of sponge with another shrimp.

Our second dive was to see “Arches” during which we swam through naturally occurring arches in the reef.  We spied tiny shrimp, a crab, lion fish, and a huge puffer fish in the multicolored corals below. Our guide, Wayne, was intent on entertaining our group of four along the way by blowing bubble rings, letting us touch a sea cucumber and a leggy shrimp.

We had time for one last dive while in Bloody Bay and we opted to go to “The Caves”. Here our guide, Lloyd, lead us into and out of small caves beneath the reef and where we saw some larger types of fish. The reef was also home to some lobster, a spotted eel, more lion fish. The sandy bottom along the caves was full of conch.

Fuzzy little guy, isn't he?

Needless to say, we were glad to have taken in at least a few dives while in Jamaica.  Maybe the next time we'll venture to the other 80 or so that are left to explore!

Back to JAMAICA...AGAIN!

Exit Strategy arrived in Jamaica at the beginning of ACKEE season!

It was good to be anchored and finally relaxing for an extended period and GREAT to be doing it back in Jamaica.  This was our fifth trip to this piece of paradise, the second via sv Exit Strategy. When we cleared in, the Customs and Immigration people gave us a “Coastwide Transpire” indicating that we wouldn’t have to check in with officials until we reached Montego Bay.

We stayed in Port Morant-Bowden Bay where just one other vessel entered and departed during our visit.  On an afternoon walk along the nearby less traveled roads that were graced with all sorts of tropical fruits, we met some locals and one Rastafarian who sold us some fruit and a bottle of his homemade hard cider. Another day we dinghied ashore near the village on the far side of the bay and caught a Route Taxi to Morant Bay, the nearest large town where we could buy a SIM card for communication purposes.  The taxi was similar in size to a Corolla.  When we hailed it, we didn’t see that there were already three passengers in it- one in front and two in the back seat. I suspect that the driver didn’t want to “dis” us white folks, so he nodded us in. Then we didn’t want to “dis” him, so we “skinnied-up” ourselves. I tried to balance lightly on one of Dan’s knees for what we thought might be a short ride. It was not.  For the next thirty minutes or more, the taxi sped along a winding coastal road, veering around people on foot and passing traffic.  I tried to focus on the landscape as it whizzed by because my life flashed before me every time I peered forward.  The return trip in a different Route Taxi was less stressful and I had a comfortable ride ON a seat.  (RT cost was 300 JD/person = approx.$2.23 USD)

Absolutely loved the Bob Marley Museum tour given by a guide who had us singing Marley's Reggae hits.

Military boot camp in the Blue Mountains above Kingston

Our next port of call was Kingston, Jamaica’s capital. We had not intended to stop here because of its reputation; however, Kingston had the boat services needed to help us remedy the few things on the “fix-it” list. It was late afternoon when we entered the seventh largest harbor in the world and the wind kicked up fiercely, gusting at times to 33 knots- right on our nose.  After motoring through wicked winds and chop for about six miles-taking nearly 3 hours, we dropped anchor near the Royal Jamaican Yacht Club.  The folks there were quite helpful in recommending a chandlery and arranging a reputable driver.  We were so pleased with the driver that we also booked a full day tour to some of the sites in the city and up into the Blue Mountains.  

93% of Jamaican Blue Mountain Coffee is shipped to Japan

The sailing conditions upon exiting Kingston Harbor were much calmer, so our sails flew full and happy. Unfortunately, about two miles out of the harbor a Coast Guard boat came alongside and ordered us back into the bay to talk with a Customs official.  We regretfully turned around and reported to the designated dock. As it turned out, the official misinterpreted our paperwork, made a written notation on it, and sent us on our way.

Exit Strategy as seen from beach on Half Moon Cay near Portland Point

The Portland Cays are sprinkled off of Portland Point about midway on Jamaica’s southern coast.  The cays are quite small and not more than spits of sand-covered reef with good holding in sparse turtle grass. They are uninhabited, but frequented by fishermen.  We spent a few nights anchored there in very pleasurable solitary confinement.     

Lots of sea stars strewn along Jamaica's southern coast

Alligator Reef was the next planned stop where we also spent a few nights.  There was no sandy shore here, just enough reef at the surface during low tide to quell the seas in the anchorage. Fishermen gathered in the shallows nearby to net bait fish.

After Alligator Reef, we dropped the hook in Great Pedro Bay.  The remote bay is home to a small fishing co-op and it was memorable for many reasons. Here we met a group of friendly locals whose main jobs appeared to be keeping the barstools warm at the Lobster Pot, a small seaside restaurant.  One morning we took a walk in search of fresh fruit and vegetables and were directed to take the “shortcut” instead of the main road. The recommended trek lead through so many deserted back roads and cow-lined lanes that we considered turning around more than once.  We finally located the Rastafarian fruit vender on the main road in the town of Treasure Island that was about 4 miles away via the shortcut.  On our return trip, we were truly blessed when a man we had talked to on the way offered us a ride back to Great Pedro Bay in his car! 

The fishermen pull their boats ashore daily.

Black River is Jamaica’s longest river and is populated by crocodiles that have seen so many tour boats that they respond to calls from operators. Here we were surprised to meet a Dutch cruising couple we had last seen in Bonaire and shared a day of land touring with them.  While climbing around the Y S Falls that afternoon, we encountered yet another cruising couple from Switzerland whom we also knew from a previous season in Bonaire.  Upon returning to town, we learned that, in our absence, the coastguard had saved our dinghy from drifting off when its painter wore through. (We had not secured it with our cable lock at the coastguard’s request.)

Y S Falls is located on a cattle farm and appeared to be one of the most visited sites on the island.

If I remember correctly, this croc was named Patricia.

Bluefields was another peaceful anchorage- at night.  During the day, many large trucks traversed the narrow coastal road moving what mainly appeared to be building supplies.  While talking with Jamaicans in every town we visited, they voiced their concerns about the amount of highway projects that the Chinese have been hired to complete.  The Chinese ship in most of their own supplies and laborers and the Jamaican companies cannot compete with their bids.    

From Bluefields, we rounded up toward Jamaica's west coast which is the focus of the next blog entry.

JOURNEY TO JAMAICA'S SOUTHERN COAST: Part III

Isla Beata, DR to Port Morant, Jamaica  (approximately 157 nm)

There is a rocky cay just west of Isla Beata called Cayo de Frailes.  As we approached it, forceful winds whipped around Exit Strategy in every which way.  It was quite an eye opener the first thing in the morning, but we finally made our way safely around the cay and sailed on holding a steadier course toward Jamaica’s southeastern coast. 

That night just after midnight, the windspeed dropped drastically. (I bet you are wondering why so many things happen on Exit Strategy “after midnight”.  I am, too!)  At the change of watch duty, the Captain was filling me in on course adjustments, the winds, and vessels in our path and we heard something hit the deck that sounded like metal.  NOW WHAT???  Using the beam of our flashlight, we discovered that the clip holding the starboard side lazy jack lines had popped free from the mast.  The main was raised at the time, and we knew that it would be a mess to deal with when we took the sail down at daybreak.  We hadn’t flaked (tidied) a mainsail on the boom since we took sailing lessons!

The motor propelled us for the last eighteen hours to Port Morant, our first Jamaican anchorage.  We cut the engine once during that time to listen to the morning Weather Net on the SSB radio.  Then when Danny tried to restart the engine, it stalled repeatedly.  He checked items that those who are familiar with the mechanics of motors know to check and found that the starter battery wasn’t holding a charge.  So he used the house batteries to jump start the engine and that got us on our way again.

It happened to be Ash Wednesday when we arrived in Jamaica and learned that it is a National Holiday.  We expected to be charged an overtime fee when clearing in.  An official from Quarantine (Health) came to inspect the boat and interview us about health issues.  Fortunately for us, the officials from Customs and Immigration chose to keep their holiday free from work and arrived the next day to clear us in without charge. 

Dan fixing the clip to hold up the Lazy Jack lines.

JOURNEY TO JAMAICA'S SOUTHERN COAST: Part II

Cayo de los Muertos, PR to Isla Beata, DR  (approximately 192 nm)

Upon weighing anchor at Cayo de los Muertos, Exit Strategy eased into another pleasant downwind sail with the genoa winged out on the whisker pole.  

The next rest stop of the journey was located at the southwestern coast of the Dominican Republic.  We had spent a quiet day there on a previous trip in the waters of the DR.  It was easy to yellow-flag it (i.e. stop in a foreign country without officially clearing in) there because it is an out of the way, unpopulated bay with good holding in sand. However, about twenty miles from our destination the hours left of daylight were few.  So, we decided to be prudent and cut our travel time short by yellow-flagging it at Isla Beata, DR. 

Isla Beata is a small, lovely island upon which a community of non-English speaking fishermen reside.  The last time we stopped here, mainly due to the language differences, I thought los hombres who came to the boat were going to jail the Captain because they insisted (by gesturing) that Danny go ashore with them while I stayed on the boat. About twenty minutes later, he returned with a bag of fish. (WHEW!)

This time we were prepared and expected los hombres to come aboard. I was ready with a few words in Español, politely conveying “No quieremos pescado, gracias.” (We don’t want fish, thank you.) So, they looked over our boat papers and said/gestured that we could come ashore to walk if we wished.

We were tired after the sail and it was dark by the time we got settled.  Nothing broke during this leg but the Captain did make note of an odd vibration when the motor was engaged.  The next day, he dove under the vessel and removed two loose plates from around the prop that shaken loose and tucked them away on board to reinstall during our next haul out. 

Meanwhile, I took a swim to check the anchor and discovered that it had a fishing trap line wound around it.  There appeared to be no way to raise the anchor without dragging the five traps (some filled with fish) that were strung together on the bottom.  Clearly, we had to free the anchor before leaving.  So, Danny cut each trap free and secured a float to the line using small plastic bottles salvaged from the trash- just like the thousands we’d seen marking traps and lines all along the DR coast.  

Some fishermen also stopped by that day with lobsters.  They were on the small side and relatively inexpensive so we bought enough for two meals.

JOURNEY TO JAMAICA'S SOUTHERN COAST: Part I

Frederiksted, St. Croix- USVI to Cayo de los Muertos- Puerto Rico (approximately 115 nm)

Good bye St. Croix!

There we were onboard sv Exit Strategy making the final preparations to set sail westward toward the one of Puerto Rico's lovely out islands called, Cayo de los Muertos. The IN Reach communication unit was activated, the jacklines were in place along both side decks, the navigation lights were tested, the dinghy was strapped to the foredeck, ready meals and snacks were  tucked into the fridge, diesel cans were filled and secured, the bed was made up in the salon, our foul weather suits and PFDs were handy, our ditch bag and multiple water jugs were filled and positioned near the companionway. Everything seemed to be ready and we were eager to GO.

Before raising the anchor, the first & last mate stood on the side deck to unzip the main's sailbag and was astonished to discover that half of the SSB antenna was swaying in the breeze along the backstay cable!  So, the captain hoisted his mate up the mast and the loose antenna was secured once again using many zip ties. A half hour later we were on our way, sailing at a respectable speed using only the headsail with the wind at our back.

When nightfall came, the navigation lights at the bow would not turn on even after both of the crew reported that they had each tested them.  Therefore, the steaming light was used in order for other vessels to notice us.  Our small dinghy nav light was kept in the cockpit to utilize if another vessel was spotted in the vicinity. Around midnight while the captain was on watch, he raised the main sail and Exit Strategy glided effortlessly over the sea wing-on-wing.  The crew was loving it!

The next day, Cayo de los Muertos was in our sights.  As expected, the anchorage there had only one other boat. When the headsail was taken in, the furler jammed, causing the captain to "storm". We had planned to break up the sail with a restful day along this Puerto Rican gem. But now, the "Fix It" list was growing... get the nav lights to work... adjust the furler...  The captain remedied those problems in no time flat, but then he started fiddling with the wheel at the port helm after noticing that it was making an unusual sound. He soon discovered that one link in the chain was bent and about to break.  Luckily, he remembered where he stashed the old chain he salvaged from the last time it broke and used a section of that to make the repair.     

The mountains of Puerto Rico can be seen from Cayo de los Muertos.

   
.  

When Was the LAST Time...

...YOU did something for the FIRST time?
                                                                     -John C. Maxwell

Near the end of last season in Bonaire, we became acquainted with an extremely pleasant couple who cruise on their motor yacht ALIZANN.  Suzanne and Marty hosted a traditional Thanksgiving dinner potluck for three American vessels just days before we each went our separate ways.  In readying for the dinner, I noted the thought provoking quote above at the close of Suzanne’s email and it got me thinking.   How often do I –now in my mid sixties- accept the challenge of doing something for the first time?

There have been many opportunities for us to try out new things over recent months.  We sailed up to St. Croix in early December and got quite comfortable in routines with our son Bob’s family who live there.  Lyla had joined the St. Croix Pony Club, so I was happy to spend time with her during lessons and feedings.  But one day Bob coaxed me into doing a trail ride with them through a nearby section of the rainforest that is called the “Monkey Maze”.  I’m not fond of riding unfamiliar horses, but Dusty was gentle with me and wisely refused to pick up a trot or canter when nudged.  I was glad for the opportunity and hope to ride again when we return.

Gardening is one of my all time favorite activities and luckily Bob introduced me to a farmer friend named Luca who was eager for volunteers.  I weeded various veggie beds for the first few weeks and loved it, as we were richly rewarded with luscious veggies and fruits daily.  However, Luca was soon in greater need of helping hands to prepare the harvest for his farm stand.  So he trained me to clean and bag scads and scads of beautiful mixed greens.  I was a little nervous taking part in that responsibility because Luca had an impeccable reputation for high quality harvest, but I was open to learn whatever was necessary and he graciously assured me that he was pleased with my work.  You can imagine how elated I was on my last day of volunteering for the season when Luca said that he wanted me to WEED!  (The pressure was finally off.)

            

                 Bob said he wanted a pic of  me in "my happy place".

A few islands we’ve cruised had bioluminescent bays, but we never took the time to check them out.  St. Croix has one and Bob now lives in a neighborhood that has access to it and his family has gone several times.  The thought of finally having this experience was personally exhilarating, but I was not quite aware of what exactly would be involved in the adventure.  To see the best display of bioluminescence, you have to go well after sunset when it is dark.  So at around 9 o’clock one night, Bob took Aslan, Lyla and me along with three adult friends to an unkempt lot along the bay.  We carried flashlights and Bob lead us through the tall grasses and gingerly around a few thorny cassia bushes to the water’s edge.  It was then that I quietly started to freak out, realizing that we’d be going INTO the water and I wouldn’t be able to SEE the large, creepy things that may be swimming beneath me.  I watched as Bob hung a glowstick on a bush to mark our entry/exit point.  Then he waded in with Lyla and Aslan at his heels.  Oh my gosh, I thought, if THEY went in I HAVE to go in, too. And I did! Playing with the bioluminescence was a delight until someone’s leg briefly touched mine.  When that happened we were quick to reassure each other.  (I believe I will only go into a bioluminescent bay again IF my other two grandchildren want to go someday.)

Photo courtesy of Bing 

Then there was the Cupcake War.  Our four grandchildren are often responsible for challenging us to do new things.  They have prompted us to learn new games like Chess and Skip-Bo or to solve Sudukos.  They have urged us to try rock climbing and gymnastic tricks, learn Spanish online, and climb trees again.  And this year, Lyla challenged me to engage in a Cupcake War with her before we even arrived in St. Croix.  I had no clue as to what it would entail until she showed me a few episodes of the program.  As the date of the baking scrimmage neared, I realized how unprepared I was.  Yes, I’ve been baking for around fifty years, but Lyla set it up as a serious baking-from-scratch competition that would have JUDGES! Of course, they were all close relatives (Dan, Bob, Aslan), but during the three phases of the contest, it was crystal clear that they intended to do their jobs in earnest.  Lyla won our first Cupcake War and intends hold to  another when her cousins Maya and Genna can participate.  (I’m fairly certain that my defeat was sealed when I unknowingly overfilled ice cream cones with batter causing the excess to drip out of the cones and off the pan onto the bottom of the oven, that finally began to burn and smoke up the kitchen.)

 

So, now I challenge you to at least think about it-

                           When was the last time YOU did something for the FIRST TIME?