St. (Steve) Maarten
Well, we finally reach the last of the boat days on the epic cruise that took me somewhere around five months to actually write about. For shame.
I don’t need to explain my lame excuse for an excuse to you! Read on!
By this day, I was officially beginning to resent the idea of leaving the boat for good. I knew the day was coming close, but man was I having more fun than a person should be allowed to have. Sure I’d gained ten pounds that went directly to my tummy, but they were ecstatic pounds, of joy!
I left the boat in St. Maarten for yet another activity excursion (I’d grown addicted by now). I left the gorgeous pier and walked just a little ways to a smaller boat dock, hopped on a pontoon boat with an expatriated Limey and he carted us away through the choppy waters of the bay only to settle alongside a floating tiki hut.
A tiki hut of snorkeling doom.
The short boat ride from the ship to the hut was quite possibly the closest I came to sea sick during the entire trip. Odd, that.
I was surrounded by people who thought the short jaunt across the water in super proximity to other people made it the perfect time to light up a cig. Well, let me just tell you – anyone who smokes around non-smokers is a raging schmuck. Not to mention anyone who smokes around children, especially their own. You know who you are. If you smoke cigarettes in close proximity to others, your balls will fall off. It’s karmic justice. I’m just warning you as a public service announcement.
Doing my duty here, people.
Look at the color of that fecking water.
Would you call that cerulean?
I’d call that cerulean.
Moving on.
So they gave us our flippers and masks and a quick run down of what not to do, informed us of which underwater beauties wanted us dead and which ones simply wanted us to feed them niblets. I jumped in without a life vest, just to give it a whirl and good grief was I bouyant. I’m not sure if it is the high salt content of the water or just the sheer will of my boobs to live, but I floated like styrofoam! I attempted to dive a few times in order to shoot some fish just out of range and the water just laughed in my face as I shot upward foot first.
Yes, the easy floating was a plus, but the full length back and ass sun burn wasn’t so much a plus. Just ask my snorkeling buddy Sarah. She’ll tell ya.
Yes, I explored the art of underwater photography once again, to even further depths of Fail. There’s nothing like having to buy a second $15 lump of shit for the chance to capture blurred browns and grays. I captured as many of the aforementioned browns and grays as I could before I felt the urge to lounge on the floating pontoon. I swam for the platform, keeping my camera out ahead of me and my eyes on the life beneath. The bottom grew further and further from me.
Finally, when there was nothing to see under me, I looked up at the approaching ladder and saw the silhouette of a FUCKING BARRACUDA idling just under the tiki hut.
Apparently he comes there quite often. Something about the niblets attracting all his favorite meals might be what interested him. If it were possible to scream underwater I might have, but I refrained. Barracudas – they eat your fear.
Here we have a shot of the highly rare “Jackass in a Bathing Suit.” Not my best shot ever, but worth remembering that I was in fact there.
You might note the already present sunburn. Thank you Sun Gods for never passing me by.
You can also see the “HUT” aspect of this Tiki inspired location. Really, it’s just a floating bar. More people sat on the platform the whole time drinking and NEVER went in the water than did. I’m still not quite sure why they didn’t just go to the beach with a keg, but who am I to judge? More business for the expatriates!
So, St. Maarten – made of win, almost impossible to drown in (and I’m a poet! And I didn’t even… you get the idea).
By this time I had learned my lesson – Always, always, always get off the boat. There is too much of life spent watching from windows as the more impressive pieces of the world pass by unexplored. How dare I allow the island of Barbados to go by unexplored. Never again.
I will inner tube in the rivers of Dominica, I will zip line and explore the caves of Barbados, I will sit in Volcanic pools on St. Lucia, and I will eat like an effing pig. I hereby vow to live my whole life as though I am on a cruise.
Though I still don’t embrace the buffet. It’s just unnatural.
hi there hows it going
Yeah!