Wednesday, February 8, 2012

The West Indies-Wind Writing Chapter 5 New

     In the later, warmer hours of the morning after New Years Eve we sailed to a new location. I wanted the smell of the Caribbean wind that filled the sails each excursion to stay in my nose forever. It smelled like salt, like sand, like summer.

     Our next destination was more remote than the previous harbors we had anchored in. We had heard from another family that turtles swam so frequently through these particular cays that it was like being next to a sea turtle freeway. "Yeah right," I told her after a few drinks.

     After we set our anchor in the white sands a turtle did travel past our boat on a his own journey, but he was the only one we saw from our anchorage. Rainsqualls followed him, but the drops that fell were the same temperature as the ocean which seemed about as warm as a bath.The raindrops grasped at the adrenaline within us, I think because we swam more during the rainy times than the sunny ones. 

     I would dive beneath the water and release my worries and stresses into its depths. Thoughts about my old job, and worries about what my new one was going to shape into dissolved under there. One of the reasons I’ve always been so attracted to the ocean is its ability to take what you bring to it and swallow it. It is not judgmental, it is not disparaging. It is what it is-a vast abyss that accepts anything and anyone.

     Later that evening after our ocean adventures we all attended a unique dinner on the beach. A local boat boy referred to as “Mr. Everywhere” and a few of his friends cooked fresh lobster and homemade potatoes and rice for us. We ate at a picnic table on the beach with no silverware. I felt happy to let out the wild animal that always seems to be within of me. 20-knot winds blew our patterned tablecloth and everything resting on top of it, but we pushed it back down and kept on eating. 

     I was grateful for moments like these that took all of us out of our comfort zones. Sometimes I freak out about traveling. Leaving my pillow, my bed, my house. But I know I just have to rip the bandaid off and go, you know? Get away from all those comforts and really uncover more about the world, about my family and about myself. 

     I felt these moments caused us to look at each other differently. I had never watched my mom eat lobster with her bare hands. In fact, I had never seen her eat any kind of shell fish. I was pretty sure she hated it, but you couldn't tell at this meal. These experiences tied us all together in new ways and I knew that someday I would do anything I could to continue to pass this tradition of traveling on to my kids. 

All scenery photos by Scott

<< Chapter 4-The Captain of Us                                                    Chapter 6-The Fight >>

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  1. Your stories are so incredible and you are a great writer!!

  2. Thank you so much Leah! I had so much fun meeting you the other day :)

  3. i particularly liked this one. i think i'm going to start keeping a separate journal that is more like this. like a story. you are inspiring me!

  4. Just stumbled upon your blog and I love it!! I am now your newest follower!
    Follow me back if you like :)
    hugs, Alexandra

  5. This looks like such an amazing place to visit. I might be emailing you to get some information and details from you. It looks like the perfect place to go for my 15th wedding anniversary!!!


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