For our free day, people decided to do their own thing for the most part. For Heidi and Ben, this meant building a sandman. It was like one of the sand mermaids that everyone and their mother makes when they feel like trying their hand at bass relief at the beach, but it looked more like a Rastafarian that got hit with the Joker’s crazy smiling potion from the original Batman. Ben was happy to see that a crab had made a home in the ear later, but there isn’t much more to say about that. Given that this entry is made way past the date on which it should have been written, no one else really remembers what they were doing that day. As I recall, people mostly just chilled out around the cabin and read. I’m about to finish my third book by this point, and at least three or four other people are too. We read quite a bit. The only true account that I can give is my own, given that I was alone most of the day. Background for my story: Saturday night, the Coral Cay guys staying in the cabin that separated ours had a big “anything but clothes” party. In short, it was hysterical. The party was fantastic, and about half of our number went and had fun. I talked with a guy who I’d met at their Saturday party last week (They only get Sunday off), and Swiss, the Swiss Tobago-an, said he would take me out scuba diving the next morning. Having a dive license, I’d been looking for a place to do it, and given that Swiss’s dad founded the best and oldest shop on the island, it seemed like a great idea. Unfortunately, his compressor went on the fritz the next morning, he forgot to pick me up, and I had to hitch a ride to Speyside. After a very very fast drive from and Indian guy who doesn’t believe in speed limits, I found that Swiss’s dive shop was done taking people out of the day, but given that he felt guilty for forgetting to pick me up, Swiss called all the people he knew to see if I could get out. Everywhere failed, and I ended up waiting for a Rasta named Spencer to get back from a trip. After being forced into a chat with Andy King of Fruits, knocking over a banana tree (oops), and missing the bus I intended to take back to Charlottesville, I found that there were no more dives with Spencer either. Cool guy though. I ended up hiking over a hill, getting shocked by a bad lamppost along the way, and snorkeling off the beach of Blue Waters Inn. It wasn’t great, due to the fact that I couldn’t get a boat out to a good snorkeling place, but it was an interesting day. I had some trouble finding my way home, but a nice French couple gave me a ride. The man spoke no English, and the woman spoke a little, but it was nice. Go hitching sometime- It’s fun.
-Trip
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