Heather here. This is Wednesday’s blog, but I’m writing it on (early) Thursday morning. This crew likes to have a good time in the evenings. I’m making the most of my social and laughing and dancing skills, but I’m coming up against the edge of my capacity for late nights and early morning…well done putting this guide through her paces swimmers!
Yesterday was guest Mary Parke’s 24th birthday and we set about making a generally big deal of her all day and night. She deserved it! The day began with our trusty Captain moving our ship in the early morning hours to Little Jost Van Dyke. We haven’t been here in years – since the last time Marianne, Gary and Charmine were here as a matter of fact.
This just in – Hopper just walked into the salon where I sit writing. I whispered “Goodmorning” and he said “why are you screaming at me?”. Mostly he was being funny. Mostly. That will give you a picture of our night.
Back to Little Jost where we had a great morning swim around the harbor. We were really there to
Oh good! Hopper has hydrated and is going to take over from here so I can do the photo editing I didn’t do last night….now where did I put the ibuprofen???
Okay Okay, Hopper here. Someone must have slipped something in one of my 7 (10?) drinks last night, because I don’t remember going to bed. Or how I got a tattoo on my neck. Whatevs, we threw a great party, and I’m more than happy to be a casualty. But please, everyone, stop shouting.
Back to Little Jost Van Dyke, where the swell was still up, and it was really cool to be anchored in a protected spot but still watch the waves crash. After our swim, Heather and I talked guest Frances into participating in a photo shoot at Sandy Spit, a tiny sand bar of an island with a just a little vegetation, surrounded by turquoise waters. The waves were wrapping around the whole island, and the whole scene was beautiful and dramatic. Captain Chad skillfully got us in and out of there on the dinghy while simultaneously taking phone calls. Impressive.
After lunch and some, we all hiked to the Bubbly pool, a spot on the island where crashing waves fill a cliff-lined amphitheater of sorts. It’s hard to explain. I hope Heather inserts a photo here to make up for my lack of a description. The waves were huge. On the hike there are signs about a poison tree, warning us not to even stand under the tree. I wonder what would happen?
While we were off the yacht, the crew decorated the cockpit for Mary Parke’s birthday. The festivities began early and continued well into the evening. The party moved to Willy T’s, a sticky, smelly floating bar where debauchery is baseline behavior.
Guide Will just announced our morning swim. He was met with groans. They’ll feel better after a swimming a mile or so.