Making Memories – Part II
(Continued from our last issue.)
Learning all sorts of lessons
We hoisted the anchor early Friday morning, leaving Placencia for a trip to Twin Cays. Hoping to give the family a sailing experience, we raised the main and unfurled the jib. But, the wind had subsided during the night, so much so that we were forced to keep the motor running. The jib luffed futilely trying to gather enough wind to billow, and we rolled it up in short order. We kept the main up to stabilize Up Jinks and make the ride more comfortable.
Thus began the lessons that John and I were eager to share with the girls. John pointed to the wind vane at the very top of the mast and explained to them how to tell the direction of the wind. He then described the relationship between that direction and the placement of the sail to it for moving the boat along.
In order to get to Twin Cays, we had to cut through a series of small cays known as Blue Ground Range, take a starboard turn with a heading towards South Water Cay and then a port turn into the Twins. This gave us the perfect opportunity to teach Jordan and Emily how to read the water in order to discern channels, shoals and coral heads. They came up to the bow of the boat with me and I pointed to the royal blue ribbon of water that flowed between the cays indicating the greatest depth. I then showed them lighter turquoise areas where it was shallower, but still deep enough to cross. In contrast, were spots that were almost white indicating sandbars and brown patches signaling coral heads and reefs. These last two were the ones we needed to avoid at all cost.
As we made our way through the range and turned starboard towards South Water, two dolphins surfaced right at the bow of Up Jinks and rollicked along beside as if officially welcoming us to the anchorage. Billy and Eleanor joined the girls and me up front and I, feeling comfortable that we were through any underwater navigational hazards, became absorbed in the excitement surrounding the dolphins.
While chatting and laughing with the adults, something tapped me on my back. I turned to see Jordan and very seriously said, “I think it’s getting pretty shallow.” Sure enough,
we were headed into a stretch of water whose color was getting whiter by the second. I yelled to John and asked what the depth meter read.
“Ten feet,” he responded.
I quickly scoped out our alternatives and suggested that he head to starboard to regain the channel. Thank heaven Jordan had absorbed the lesson so well. Nothing can ruin a wonderful cruise like running aground!
We tucked into the Twin Cays and anchored early afternoon. Everybody donned bathing suits and we swam off the back of Up Jinks, thoroughly enjoying the combination of soft wind and warm water.
As the day wound down and we had finished swimming, we introduced Jordan and Emily to another lesson – the solar shower, which had been lying on the deck all afternoon heating up the water. John rigged it to the bracing for our solar panels that extend out over the stern of the boat. He showed the girls how to use it and tested the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot. They giggled profusely as the spray of water careened down from the spout, covering them and washing the salt off of their bodies. Eleanor lathered them up with shampoo and soap, rinsed them off and wrapped them in towels. They scampered down the companionway to change into dry clothes.
Before dinner, we congregated in the cockpit for drinks and to watch the sun set. Everybody was mellow and somewhat tired from the day’s activities. Emily asked if she could read to us which I thought was a wonderful and unexpected idea. She retrieved her copy of Junie B. Jones and started reciting from the pages. After a few minutes, I suggested that we should all be assigned characters in the story and read those parts. Emily, of course, would direct and play Junie B. It was a raucous rendition with everybody modulating their voices in high pitches or deep tones to suit their character interpretations. We could hardly read our lines for laughing so hard.
It was a great first day and we all slept well that night.
Easter on the boat
On Saturday, we pulled up the anchor and made a short run around the Twin Cays over to Tobacco Range. Our bathing suits were the uniforms for the week and the minute we dropped the hook and splashed the ladder down from the stern, the girls jumped in the water. This time, a couple of manatees curiously approached to see what was going on.
While Billy and Eleanor snorkeled off the boat trying to locate them, John took Jordan and Emily in the dingy over to a shallow spot where they began their snorkeling lessons.
(More about that later.)
After lunch, Billy took control of the dingy and the family went exploring around a small cay about a mile away that houses a rookery for Frigate birds. I told the girls that while they were gone, I would go ahead and boil the eggs for us to dye when they returned.
There are some things that should be routine, so much so that you don’t feel the need to read directions. This would be my 60th Easter and the last 34 of those, I had been the one chiefly responsible for egg dying. I pulled out the pot, filled it with water and started up the stove. The eggs I purchased in Placencia happened to be brown, but that didn’t seem to matter to me. An egg is an egg. Once the eggs hardened, I drained them and placed them in the refrigerator to cool.
When Jordan and Emily returned, we opened up the package of dyes to get organized. It was at this point that I checked the instructions - “……..eggs should be white and at room temperature.” Oh, well. Since we weren’t conveniently parked around the corner from the nearest grocery store, there was nothing we could do. It would be a grand experiment. The result was an amazing array of vibrant, deep colors, not the typical pastels associated with Easter.
 Later, after dinner and another round of Junie B. Jones, and before the girls went to bed, we arranged the eggs on a plate and stationed them atop the cooler in the salon. Emily thought it would be a good idea to put Happy Jinks on the cooler as well. After all, he knew the Easter Bunny personally and might want time to visit when the rabbit came through….and, who knew? Maybe Happy had some sway with how much candy might be left.
Once the girls were asleep, I began retrieving the baskets, grass, plastic eggs and candy that I had stashed all over the boat. Anybody who owns a boat knows how creatively ingenious you must be to stow things, especially if they are to be hidden. It’s a two-part test. First, you have to find the space. Second, you have to remember where the space is. With everything located, Eleanor and I put the baskets together and filled them with candy. We arranged them on either side of Happy Jinks on the cooler so the girls would see them first thing Sunday morning.
I popped the plastic eggs apart and tucked various designations of money inside each one – some American, some Belizean. Every US dollar was worth two Belizean, so the girls would have good spending money when they went shopping later in the week.
At sunup on Easter, I awoke before anybody else and hid the eggs in every cubbyhole of the deck and cockpit I could find. It was important to have some organization to it or the girls could seriously hurt themselves racing over wenches and lines in a frantic rush to retrieve the same egg. I divvied up both the dyed and plastic eggs equally, putting half on the starboard side of the boat and half on the port.
The girls awoke bright and early. They found their candy-laden baskets poised on the cooler with Happy Jinks. The Easter Bunny left them a note explaining how much fun he’d had hiding the eggs on the boat. When the girls came up for the hunt, we assigned each a territory – either the starboard or the port. I knew the number of eggs was equal. My only uncertainty was how the money in the plastic eggs would pay out. I had no idea what was in each one. Fortunately for me, they broke just about even and Jordan and Emily were thrilled with the cash.
Thanks to everybody’s hard work, especially Happy Jinks, Easter turned out to be a great success.
The Challenges of Snorkeling
Once the Easter festivities concluded, we decided to leave Tobacco Range. John had worked with the girls on Saturday teaching them to snorkel. It hadn’t been too successful. Jordan got the hang of it pretty quickly, but couldn’t really see anything because the water was too murky. Emily was a different story. Every time she put her face in the water, she came up sputtering and spewing, protesting loudly. John patiently continued working with her only getting the same result. He figured that the problem might be that she couldn’t really see anything, which might even scare her. It certainly wasn’t much fun.
From our previous cruising, we knew the coral patches at North Long Cocoa were much better. John suggested that we go ahead and move. It would take only a couple of hours to get there leaving us plenty of time in the afternoon to enjoy the water.
We talked up the prospects of good snorkeling so much that, by the time we dropped anchor at North Long Cocoa, the girls were raring to try it again. Eleanor, Billy and I jumped off the back of the boat and swam from there. John put the engine on the dingy and took Jordan and Emily with him closer into the cay where they could stand up while attempting the face-down exercise of breathing through the snorkel.
It wasn’t two minutes before Jordan joined us out over the coral beds. She was totally fascinated with what lay hidden under the crystal clear water and John gave her his  underwater camera to take pictures. Emily, on the other hand, continued to spew and scream with every attempt. She finally pulled her mask off, threw it in the dingy and hauled her little body over the side. With her arms folded tightly across her chest, she sat there like a disgruntled wet hen. John’s pleas to try again were met with belligerence which he chalked up to a child’s petulance.
He left her in the dingy to sort things out for herself. I decided to give it a try and swam over to her. I explained that I was going to put my arms under her stomach to hold her up flat on the water in a swimming position. Then all she’d have to do is put her face down and breathe through the snorkel. After some coaxing, she slid out of the dingy into my arms. I told her to relax, that it wasn’t really that hard to do. She bobbed up on top of the water where I braced her with my forearms. As her face hit the water, her body writhed, her legs kicking frantically. She popped back up, furious. “I don’t like this and I’m NOT going to do it,” she yelled as loud as she could in the direction of Eleanor, Billy and Jordan who were thoroughly enjoying themselves a few yards away.
I helped hoist her back up in the dingy where she continued to pout. She looked totally frustrated and was absolutely perplexed as to why we all thought snorkeling was so much fun. Eleanor encouraged me to just leave her alone. If she wanted to join the group, she’d figure out a way to do it.
As I left Emily, John came back over. She was firmly rooted in the dingy, but you could tell she wasn’t happy to be by herself. He asked to see her mask and snorkel and when she handed them over, he put them on. One dunk of his head in the water revealed the problem. The bottom stopper to her snorkel wasn’t even there. All of this time, she had been sucking in water when she breathed. No wonder she didn’t relish the experience like the rest of us.
Fortunately, we had an extra snorkel set on the boat. It suited Jordan better, so she gave hers to Emily. In no time, Emily mastered the technique and gleefully joined the family out over the coral patches. All went well for the next little while as she excitedly pointed out various fish and coral to Eleanor, giving a muted squeal through her snorkel to gain attention.
Suddenly, her squeals converted to high pitched shrieks. She surfaced crying loudly. Most of us were back at the boat by this time and thought she had reverted back to her displeasure. Billy yelled to her to stop crying.
Eleanor grabbed Emily up and the two of them swam back to Up Jinks, with Emily wailing all the way. As soon as Billy hauled her up into the cockpit, I could see exactly what the problem was. She had touched some Fire Coral while snorkeling and had sting marks all over her legs. I raced down the companionway hatch to retrieve some vinegar and aloe lotion. We all huddled around her, applying the remedies to the stings and trying both to console her and assuage our guilt that we hadn’t taken her complaints seriously.
Her cries settled into hiccups as the pain subsided. Her little eyes sparkled from the tears, but behind them was a glint of satisfaction, an “I told you so.” We were duly chagrined and came away from the experience with a vivid moral totally emblazoned forever in our minds – if all else fails in life, check the snorkel.
To be continued……
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