This Reminds Me

When Rachel was born, Keith and I started a small Savings Bond deduction with the idea of doing something really special around the time she started college.  We knew then as we richly understand now – when your kids are in college, they’re only half-yours.

After 16 months of planning – we’ve done that “something really special.”   We’ve just returned from a week-long Caribbean Christmas cruise sandwiched between eight sunny days in Puerto Rico.  The cruise is why we didn’t send Christmas cards (and why I need to hurry and order New Year’s cards!)  The peeps we chat with daily knew about our going, but we didn’t make a big deal of announcing it, especially online.  (“Yes, the house will be empty.  Please come rob it.”)

Before the cruise…..three days in San Juan, including its historic forts:

Iguanas exhibit no fear of Castillo San Cristobal (fort) tourists.   The reverse can’t be said for the tourists.

Julia strutted through the forts, usually leading our way.  I’ve long referred to her as “my little engineer” but after watching her obvious enjoyment of all things military, I started thinking:  “What about West Point?  What about The Air Force Academy, or the Naval Academy?”  She’s certainly smart enough and athletic enough to excel in a military profession.  Something to consider for a few years from now…..

A pensive moment for Lois, reflecting on Old San Juan.

A little post-fort shopping in Old San Juan with a stop in front of a statue of the Three Kings.  We saw imagery of Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar all over Puerto Rico.   Locals told us Christmas day is important religiously, but their family celebrations usually take place on January 6.  I saw no Christmas “stuff” half-price after December 25; I’m betting it doesn’t hit clearance until January 7.

Keith spent 16 months researching and booking all our Puerto Rican side-trips and ship excursions, including this Friday night swim with millions of bioluminescent dinoflagellates.   We took a fast boat across a bay, then jostled by bus off-road to a landing for the more gentle boat ride to the inky-black bio bay.  As we swam, the glowing, glittering dinoflagellates swirled around us, clinging to our skin.  At one point, I lifted my glittery arms to the starry heavens and seemed to meld with the sky.  The girls enjoyed the swim; for me, it was a spiritual experience.  How can anyone look at the tiny creatures lighing that bay and the beauty around and above it and believe there is no God?

We boarded the Carnival Victory Sunday, December 20.

Keith, Julia and I lodged in a balcony room; Rachel, Lois and Hannah shared an inside room across the hall.   Julia and Keith spent hours relaxing on the balcony, watching the ship pull away from and into port, spotting other ships and the occasional fish, identifying constellations, etc.

Christmas morning view from our balcony – the sun rising over St. Kitts.

Buckle up, Buttercup!  Have you seen the Carnival commercial featuring the water slide where you “scream like a little girl?”   No screaming from us – but lots of “Whoo-Whoos!”

Part of the fun of returning to the ship every day:  Towel animals on our beds!  Omigosh, I loved coming back to a tidied room and fresh towels every day.  I”m thinking of hanging my pilfered “Cruising” placard on my bedroom door knob tomorrow when I leave for work and see if it still works its magic…..

Deck the halls!  Carols above the lounge on Christmas Eve.

Santa delivered a Disney stocking for each of the girls, hanging from Julia’s swing-down bunk.  High School Musical for Julia; Hannah Montana for Hannah; Nightmare Before Christmas for Lois; and Cars for Rachel.

Every night at dinner, the waiters would gather to perform a bit’o'choreography.   I did a bit’o'chair’dancin’ myself.

We enjoyed two “elegant nights,” which is the only reason pantyhose defiled my suitcase.

We loved the ship, but the real thrills were on the excursions.  Like Dominica, which is the single most beautiful place I’ve ever been. We explored its charms with Woody, a 1996 Olympic swimmer and our tour guide.

The girls fought to take turns riding in the back of Woody’s jeep, which – thankfully – had seat belts.

We’d never seen poinsettias this big!

Jacko Falls, where we first tasted “Sweet Sop,” an insanely declicious fruit.  The girls became obsessed with it, insisting on frequent Sweet Sop snow cone stops.

Woody took us off-road to a little-known beach.   Incredibly beautiful – and we had it all to ourselves.

No noise, no litter, no vendors, no blaring music – nothing but absolute, totally private beauty.  Keith and I stood in chest-deep water and could count our toes.

Woody cracked open coconuts with a machete.   Yum!

Lois discovered schools of blue and orange fish, as well as gorgeous shells.

None of us wanted to leave Woody’s paradise – especially Rachel, our most enthusiastic beach buddy.


On New Year’s Eve, we recounted our trip adventures.  Rachel, Hannah and I voted “Woody’s Beach” the highlight.

Barbados - far more modern and industrialized than Dominica – was rich in history and roadside vendors.   The vendors appealed to the girls.  The history….well….

Keith and I visited the oldest church in Barbados, St. James Anglican, established 1648.  Its cemetery was fascinating.  The girls were so intrigued, they stayed in the car.

A Barbados hill-top warning.

Julia and Hannah went ape over vendors’ monkeys.  Julia created a “theme song” for the trip when she spotted locals butchering hogs for Christmas dinner.  She chanted, “Pigs, pigs, roasted pigs” in a sing-song voice, a mindless melody repeated countless times by Woodworth females (much to the irritation of the Woodworth male.)

We toured the rain forest of St. Lucia in an aerial tram – so relaxing.

I wish the tram ride had been hours long instead of 70 minutes – better than a massage!

Unfortunately, Rachel purchased this Rastafarian cap in St. Lucia.  You get my thanks if you can snatch it and burn it.

Christmas morning, we headed to Cockleshell Beach in St. Kitts.

A Christmas Star…Fish!  Rachel found it.  I’d never seen a live one in its natural habitat before.  She and lois braved skinned knees and bruises to retrieve four big shells from rock crevices.  We brought three home, but the fourth had a sand crab that refused to be dislodged.

Antigua – what views!  And “sea puppies!”

Eric Clapton owns a home on the island, per our driver.  I hummed “Layla” the rest of the day.

Keith, Julia and Lois voted swimming with the stingrays on Antigua the trip highlight.   The first time a stingray approached Rachel, she emitted a high-pitched scream and splashed back to the boat.  Julia stayed firmly affixed to Keith’s back, but we would pet them when they came by.  One thought Keith’s shirt was a food source and attached itself to him.   He did not appreciate my suggestion to join the La Leche League.

Hannah liked the stingrays so much, she nicknamed them “sea puppies.”  They’re very soft.

After the cruise (sob!), we decompressed five days in Aguadilla, Puerto Rico – much smaller than San Juan.

At a local grocery store…you know, that whole “Christmas with the Kranks” thing….fighting over Mel’s Hickory Honey Ham…..

Lois’ suggestion for a room snack.  No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no – that’s one for each tentacle.

A sign at Crashboat Beach, where we went almost daily.   It either says  – “In the event of a tsunami, get to high ground, ” or “In the event of a tsunami, lean way over and kiss yourself goodbye.”  You choose.

The best food in Aguadilla was served at Crashboat Beach.  Local vendors grill skewers of tasty chicken or fish.  Two skewers and a piece of bread – $5.  Yum! Keith also enjoyed mofongo, sort of a plantain and chicken stew.

Sandy Bottoms – er – Hannah at Crashboat.  The waves were very, very strong.   When Keith hobbled in from the surf one afternoon, he announced, “I was just handed my keester.”  The waves took two pairs of our goggles and a pair of Rachel’s sunglasses.

Our last day at Crashboat – New Year’s Eve.

So long, Crashboat.  Hope to see you again.  And feel free to give back those sunglasses.

So that was our trip.   What we’d spent 18 years saving for, and 16 months seriously planning.  The credit goes to Keith, who researched every possibility to the nth degree.

We were melancholy leaving the boat, and then five days later in the San Juan airport.  But as Rachel reminded us -

Don’t be sad because it’s over.  Be glad because it happened.

Something really special happened.

I’m glad.

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