Day 11

Today was one of those great days that will always be remembered with the classic sentence of sweet nostalgia, “remember that one time when…”   It just was perfect from start to finish.

When we woke this morning the beach was still deserted—no sign of the party boats that had been anchored at the beach the day before.  We motored the dingy over and decided to head up a trail to see if we could reach the lighthouse that overlooks the tiny island up at the top of its hill.

We had the whole beach to ourselves...

Here we all are at the start of the trailhead:

This little sojourn was very revealing.  Among our crew, there seems to be two types of hikers.  The first is the kind of hiker that wants to conquer the trail and get to the top...

...while the second is the sort that likes to lollygag and meander whilst looking at the flora and fauna and bizarre wildlife. (This would be the botany major and teacher among our crew.)

The latter also are keen on singing hokey camp songs while traipsing about the footpath much to the annoyance of the former hikers.

The trail, if you could call it that, was clearly not in high use--or so it appeared.  To our shock, half way up the trail we actually had to stop for traffic!  It seems that we were not the only ones on our island.  A small cruise ship had anchored on the other side of the island and spewed a few of its passengers off to come to shore.  They were not headed to the lighthouse, they were making their way to our lovely beach.

Farther up the trail we spotted their ship:

Once they past, we were left alone on the trail up to the lighthouse.

It ended up being a really great find.  Just a wee bit of trespassing was involved here:

Though from the GIANT hole curled back in the cyclone fence, it was apparent that we weren't the first lawbreakers to pass through here:

At some point in time, this little lighthouse must have been a real gem.  You can read about it and see some great photos of what it used to look like in its heyday here.

Up at the top:

Check out the light, it still works but it's barely hanging on...

The rusted out legs holding up the light are crumbling:

 All you'd have to do is push it with your little finger and the whole light would go tumbling down.  We just hoped there wouldn't be a gust of wind when we made our descent down the stairs.

 The view from up on the ledge, the ledge we probably were not supposed to be on, was well worth perching precariously on for this picture.  It was breathtaking.

If you look real close, you can see "Hakuna Matata" anchored off the shore inside the bay on the left side of the island.

 Back down from the top, we explored all the rooms:

Mark found the roof that had once protected the light from weather.  Apparently the weather won and blew it off some time ago.

We made our way back down the trail,

...once again we stopped along the skinny trail to let the cruise ship people make their way back to their boat.  By the time we made it to our home shore there was just a few cruisers left and we soon had the beach all to ourselves again and we played in the water and cooled off from the hot and humid hike up the hill.  

After getting waterlogged and tumbled in the surf we took the dingy back to the boat for a little lunch.  Keith somehow left his sunglasses somewhere between the beach and the boat and after checking the dingy he decided to put on his mask and snorkel and see if they'd somehow fallen off the deck and into the water below.

Keith came back with a couple pair of missing glasses, just not his:

 

Keith liked the pink pair and was happy to share the other pair with Captain Mark.

Connor took some time out to show me his foot.  Seems the little trapeze stunts back at Bitter End left a few marks:

Next we headed back to the beach and hiked to the tip of the island where there was rumored to be a natural pool of some sort called “The Jacuzzi”.  Keith and Kathy took the kayaks over while the four of us Skillmans dared to beach the dingy—a sure adventure trying to bring it to shore upright without tossing its passengers overboard by tumbling in by the oncoming surf.

We walked the rocky shoreline the rest of the way...

...then finally found the Jacuzzi—though depending on the surge, it can sometimes be more like a washing machine on it’s spin cycle than a zen-like nature spa, but I suppose “Spin Cycle” doesn’t have that certain ring to it to lure island explorers.

Here we are enjoying climbing up to the bath:

So here's a classic Keith moment.  I took this photo of him checking out the ocean that feeds into the Jacuzzi...

...when all of a sudden I see the water in the background start sucking back and I know what's about to happen--the perfect photo op.   I quickly flipped my camera's switch over to video and waited for the inevitable...

Keith later asked me why I didn't warn him of impending doom but seriously, these sorts of predicaments are what make a blog worth reading.  I feel much like an embedded photographer who is here to document and report, I'm not here to change the outcome--especially if the outcome is a destiny for careless calamity, as Keith always seems to find himself entangled in.

Keith was kind enough to give both Connor and Chloe a kayak ride back to the boat:

...which meant that Mark and I would be taking the precarious and rocky coastal hike back to our dingy.  Along the way I spotted this cluster of snails on a rock:

It was sad to say goodbye to such an unexpected island gem, we enjoyed every bit of that island paradise but there is more to see and explore elsewhere. 

Motoring back to the boat I got some fun pictures of Keith and Kathy on the boat with our kids:

We weighed anchor and headed for Culebra. Today Keith was captain so Mark got to hang out with the kids on the trampoline.

Once we reached Culebra we had a little more trouble setting the anchor.  The chain is a bit finicky and it tends to get caught up and tangled around itself more than any other anchor chain I’ve ever seen.  This time there was no easing it out of its moody cantankerous knot and I had to crawl in the hatch and untangle it myself.

 Nothing like rusty hands to go with your deep dark tan.

At last we got it all untangled and wedged the anchor firmly in the sand below.  A short dingy  ride in to shore and we were off to find a place to eat.  On the way, we spotted a bridge we had read about in our sailing guide and so we decided to motor through it and see what all the fuss was about.

The bridge was reportedly built for two fishing boats that are not even there to use it anymore.  Go figure.

Signs of Christmas were sprouting up all over the island in plastic splendor.

Walking through town on our way to find a place to eat we music coming from a baseball field so we went to check it out.  We discovered they were getting ready for a softball game that evening so we decided to eat dinner nearby and then come back to catch the game.

The entire game was of course announced in spanish, thank goodness baseball translates well.  

The local cop served as the umpire.  No one seemed to be upset with any of the calls he made.  I'm not sure if that was because he was honest and respectable or if they feared the law.  Whatever the reason, he never seemed to get any flack for his calls.

Here's Connor with the stat keeper, the announcer, and one of the players.   My mish-mash of Spanglish was well received and they were more than happy to pose for the photo.

Let’s just say these folks down here put the pizazz in their sporting events.  They would blast the music and only  mute it when a batter was up.  My kinda game!

What a great way to close out another blissful day.