beaches – Page 5 – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

Sep 8 A day at the beach

Maybe we were a bit optimistic when we thought we could just amble off to the Oregon Coast without worrying about planning ahead. After all, September and October are the best months of the year on the coast, and all those folks who know about the summer fogs have been waiting for the warm sunny skies predicted for this week.

When we left Rocky Point and traveled to Grants Pass before turning west on Highway 199 the skies were filled with smoke from fires nearby and far away. The temperature climbed as we dropped down into the valley, and as we passed the Valley of the Rogue State Park along I-5 the thermometer read a blistering 102 degrees. I thought of the Gypsy G-Mas, Connie and Tracy, as we managed to stay cool with the windows closed and the air conditioner going full blast. Last I heard, they were camping in this lovely park, although not quite so lovely on this incredibly hot September day.

The western route through the Illinois Valley is a familiar one to us. The winding curves that follow the Smith River in California to Highway 101 don’t seem at all scary any more. As the miles passed, we watched the temperature gauge drop steadily. Turning north toward Brookings, I could smell the ocean and the hot sun was gentled by a misty fog drifting from the ocean to the surrounding hills.

When we arrived at Harris Beach State Park, we were met by a sign stating that all electric sites were taken and the only available sites were for tents or rigs less than 20 feet. The attendant was a bit concerned, but she decided to let us try to slide into one of those sites. The MoHo fit just fine, with the Tracker parked sideways with ALL FOUR WHEELS ON THE PAVEMENT! Yes, those are the rules. The other rule is that no generators are allowed in the park, ever.

It was after 7 by the time we settled in, but supper wasn’t a problem because we had grilled chicken and cucumbers in vinaigrette while we drove down the road. Setting up the rig without hookups is an easy thing as well, and after a nice long walk through the campground we settled in for a cool moonlit night of reading and early to sleep.

The attendant was concerned that we were officially too long for the spot and told us to come in at 10 the next morning to see if there was anything available. Seems as though the park is almost completely filled every night this week. Waking to fog this morning wasn’t a surprise, and after tea we drove into town to get a few groceries, check out the potential storage place, and take a short drive up the Chetco River. There is another state park about 7 miles east away from the ocean and the sun was out. We both were in a beach mood however, and decided that if there wasn’t anything at Harris Beach we would go down to the Beachfront RV Park, right along the ocean, rigs lined up in a row on pavement, with a bit of dry grass, but full hookups.

After ten, back at Harris Beach, the new attendant at the window was skeptical about anything available for the next 3 days, but then as an afterthought decided to give us a site that is usually saved for last minute overflow. We got a site with electric, water, and great cable TV all the way through the weekend. Once again, everything worked out just fine.

The move across the park was a snap, and within minutes we were set up comfortably, and enjoying our space. I even opened up the awning and put up the chili pepper lights that I haven’t had a chance to use for a very long time! After lunch we took Abby for a long walk down the South Beach Trail to the ocean.

The fog was still drifting about, lifting a bit now and then, but never completely going away. In spite of the fog it was quite warm, and we could have worn shorts and skipped the jackets. It was surprising how much warmer it was down on the beach than is it a couple of hundred feet above the cliffs in the park. We had a great time with Abby, and for the first time she decided that going for her ball in the ocean waves wasn’t as scary as she thought. We found some brackish backwater for her to practice, and then Mo started throwing the ball toward the surf and Abby went right after it. Before our walk was finished, Abby was going right into the waves after her ball, and only once did a wave catch her and throw her around a little bit. It was great fun.

Tomorrow is wide open for relaxation, walks and one more special treat. Tracy and Connie are just north of us at Cape Blanco and plan to come down tomorrow afternoon for a meet and a visit. I’m tickled that we again have a chance to meet some fellow bloggers. Tracy and Connie have a great story, deciding to go full time and live a life outside the box. I have followed them for some time now and am looking forward to hearing some of their stories in person.

As early evening settles over the park, the skies are clearing and the sun is shining brilliantly. Tonight the moon is nearly full. Mo has a great big campfire going with wood we bought here at the campground. Crossing from Oregon to California with firewood is frowned upon so we paid the pricey 5 bucks a bundle to follow the rules and use local wood. I am so happy to be at the beach again.

A few more photos of our day at Harris Beach are linked here.

A wild ride exploring the Lost Coast

The day dawned brilliant and sunny this morning, without a trace of fog. But it was COLD and WINDY! Much too cold to even think of dropping a kayak into the water, so we went with our next plan for a day trip to explore the Lost Coast. If you look at a map of California, south of Eureka and north of Fort Bragg, you will see a large hump jutting westward into the Pacific. This area is so wild and rugged that in the 1920’s, when they built the Coast Highway in Northern California, the engineers determined that the stretch of coastline through the King Range was entirely too rugged for a road. This huge expanse of wild land was isolated and became known as the “Lost Coast”.

We read about the “Lost Coast Loop” in our favorite local publication “101 Things to Do in Humboldt County”. What the wonderful write-up didn’t include was the rugged nature of the narrow roads leading to our destinations. In addition to the 100 mile loop, we also wanted to explore Shelter Cove, an isolated paradise that boasted a tea house, an RV park, a lighthouse, and a community of 900 rugged souls. It is the jump-off point for magnificent wilderness hiking on the California Coast Trail through the King Range, and famous for sea cave kayaking along the wild coast.

We started our day with a simple drive south on Highway 101, stopping in to check out the perfectly pristine company town of Scotia. Even though it is steeped in logging history, (the first company bunkhouse was built in 1884), the town also has a bright future thanks to the ecologically minded folks who are part of the “Town of Scotia Company, LLC” who now actually own the town. Driving through in the morning sun was like stepping back in time to the 50’s, with perfect little houses, clean yards and streets, and well maintained buildings. This isn’t always the case in this part of California, with the other extreme including a lifetime’s worth of trash as yard art.

We skipped the amazing “Avenue of the Giants”, since we drove that road last fall, and continued on to the town of Redway. While the write-up in the magazine was glowing, the town itself didn’t seem to sparkle enough to warrant a stop before we headed out west on Redway Road to find Shelter Cove. The map showed 21 miles ahead, with what appeared to be a very winding road. I must say, there wasn’t a word about this being a scary road for RV’s, with an RV park at the final destination, but as adventurous as Mo and I are with the MoHo, we wouldn’t attempt a trip down this incredibly narrow and steep road to the Lost Coast.

Once at Shelter Cove, the ocean was gorgeous, the skies were crystal clear, and the wind was howling. We took photos of the 1886 Cape Mendocino Lighthouse, relocated here from the Cape in 1998. A pictorial history of the relocation is displayed on signs around the lighthouse. Cape Mendocino is the westernmost point on the coast of California. It has been a landmark since the 16th century when the Manila Galleons would reach the coast here following the prevailing westerlies all the way across the Pacific, then make their way down the coast all the way to Acapulco, Mexico.

We found a small curved bay below the cliffs with seals romping in the surf, somewhat protected from the wind. We checked out the RV Park and had some great fish and chips at the Shelter Cove RV Campstore and Deli, and laughed at the tee shirts that said “I drove to Shelter Cove RV Park and survived”.

After our great lunch, we drove around the town toward the Black Sand Beach. The area is filled with some truly lovely homes, and with a population of 900 people, we wondered just how often those people managed to drive back to town. It took us an hour and a half to drive that 21 miles to Redway, and that isn’t exactly a destination city. Black Sand Beach was gorgeous, with black volcanic perfectly smoothed pebbles along the upper reaches grading to fine black volcanic sand at the water’s edge. The wind was still howling, so Mo stayed in the car with Abby while I walked down to the beach for photos.

By the time we got back to Redway, it was close to 3:30. Even though the Lost Coast Loop was estimated to be a 3 hour drive, we weren’t about to miss it. We had no idea our little foray to Shelter Cove would take up this much of the day. The first part of the route meandered through thick dark redwoods in the Rockefeller Grove, part of Humboldt Redwood State Park. There were places where the trees were so close to the road we were sure that the MoHo wouldn’t have fit through, but then later we saw a couple of trucks winding their way around, so I suppose it might have made it.

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Once more we started up switchbacks and grades that were mind boggeldy steep. This part of California is wilder and more rugged than anything I have traveled, including some of the back roads in the Sierra’s. Offshore of Cape Mendocino lies the Mendocino Triple Junction, a geologic triple junction where three tectonic plates come together. This explains the extreme complexity of the King Range and the wild ups and downs and arounds required to traverse the landscape.

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I don’t think we have traveled so many ups that required downs, over and over again, anywhere. Finally we reached the community of Honeydew, with a couple of houses situated along the Mattole River. The road followed the river through the gorgeous Mattole River Valley for 15 more miles before we reached Petrolia. Petrolia is a place that lives in mythic proportions in my earth scientist soul, since it is the heart of the Triple Junction, and when I watch California earthquakes, Petrolia is always there, popping and shaking, and possibly predicting the big subduction quake that will eventually come.

Petrolia has an estimated population of 300-500 people and is also known for it’s ecologically minded residents and proximity to the Lost Coast Wilderness Area, one of the largest wilderness areas and the longest stretch of undeveloped coastline in the continental United States. Travel magazines have called this area “too lovely to be believed, perhaps too beautiful to last”. I would agree with it’s recognition as the top “still wild” place in California.

The Mattole River flows through Petrolia and is one of only a handful of undammed rivers left in the country. Petrolia is five miles (8 km) from the Pacific Ocean, where there is located the start of a 25-mile (40 km) section of beach protected by the King Range National Conservation Area and Sinkyone Wilderness State Park, and the Punta Gorda lighthouse, one requiring a rugged three mile hike to even see. The Mattole River is home to a variety of California wildlife, including otters, Roosevelt elk, black-tailed deer, steelhead trout, more than 250 bird species, and an endangered salmon that was the subject of Totem Salmon, a book about the community’s attempts over two decades to preserve the Mattole salmon. It is also one of the few remaining areas with virgin old-growth stands of Douglas fir in California.

As sunset approached, we wound our way down to a long stretch of road that paralleled the beach and stopped for a photo of Shiprock before climbing a grade that had to be more than 16 percent. There wasn’t a grade sign in sight, and in the dim evening light, a photo wouldn’t have come close to showing just how wild it was. This photo of Sugar Loaf, at the westernmost edge of Cape Mendocino nearby, was taken from the internet with kudos to the Flickr photographer since I it wasn’t light enough for us to photograph as we passed.

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By the time we reached Cape Town, just a ranch house in a small river valley leading to the sea, and climbed up another wild grade, the darkness was thickening. The road followed a high ridge for a long time before dropping like a rock into the town of Ferndale. It was a surprise to realize that we were just half a mile from the fairgrounds and home. Mo did the driving to Shelter Cove and I drove the Lost Coast Loop. I have to say that Mo is probably the better passenger in these conditions. She didn’t whimper once.

Here’s an article by someone with more time than I have to write about this amazing trip. I would highly recommend it for an view of a wild part of California few people ever see. I would also say whatever you do, don’t take a motorhome on this road, ever! Funny thing, as Mo and I were getting close to Ferndale, we saw an older Class C motorhome headed back the way we had come. We still wonder if he had a clue of what he was getting into, and it was already dark! There was no other destination on that road before the 20 percent grade down to the beach.

For more of our photos of this day exploring the Lost Coast, click here

COLD on the Eel River but sunny in Eureka

We woke this morning to more cold fog in Ferndale, and when Mo stepped outside to let Abby do her business, she came back in rubbing her hands saying, “It’s really cold out there!” Our plans today included some kayaking on the Eel River, and after morning tea we thought better of that plan, and decided to explore the surrounding area instead.

We drove north to Fernbridge, crossing the Eel River once again, shrouded in murky skies and fog, and looking quite uninviting. On the internet last night I found a web page with put-in information,and with the help of the handy iPhone and 5 full bars, we found the road leading west to the ocean and the new boat launch at the eastern edge of the Eel River Estuary.

Once on the beach and out of the car, we zipped up our windbreakers and pushed our way into the cold wind. There was no way either of us would have dropped a boat into that water and tried to paddle anywhere. Birds couldn’t even fly, and we watched them winging in place in mid air against the gale.

After a very short beach walk while we tried to find an area that was more protected, we gave up and hurried back to the warm safety of the car. The only good thing about that wind was watching it push the fog back inland. The sun came out brilliantly, but it’s warmth was completely unavailable to us unless we were closed up tight inside the car and even then it was a thin warmth.

We checked out the boat launch, or I should say I checked it out and took a quick photo while Mo waited in the car, and then headed back inland to Loleta and the cheese factory. We found this quaint little home town cheese making place last fall when we were here and I was excited about getting some more of their fabulous Organic Sharp White Cheddar and a jar of solid gold salsa, in other words, Roasted Pineapple Habanera Salsa, at 9.95 a jar. A steal at any price.

We then drove the fifteen miles or so north on Highway 101 to the town of Eureka, another place where we camped last fall, but somehow with all our kayaking, never managed to check out the Old Downtown Area. Today we were actually glad that we couldn’t kayak, because the Old Town was delightful. Eureka is a place filled with old logging and waterfront history and prides itself especially on it’s lovely Victorian buildings. In spite of the lagging economy, there were many unique, creative shops that seemed to operating in full swing, even in the quiet February season.

I found a knit shop filled with wonderful art yarns and a truly creative, knowledgeable, inspired knitter teaching a young woman her first purl stitches. This man knew everything about yarn, and shared his knowledge and expertise so willingly that before I knew it, I had a bag of yarn and another new pattern to add to my stash. What a delight!

We took a break for cappuccinos and a croissant at Los Bagels and enjoyed the warm sunshine streaming in through the windows while Mo read aloud from a local arts magazine. It seems that in addition to it’s reputation for growing more weed than anyplace in the country, Humboldt County also boasts more artists per capita than any other place in California. The town has an incredible collection of outdoor sculptures and there are many gorgeous murals throughout the city.

In addition to amazing inspirational landscapes, there is a colorful multi-cultural population of people committed to art and creativity. That is a nice way of saying there are some rather strange folks running around Eureka. It is a very complex culture of artists, people who once must have been hippies and are still here, homeless people, laid-back students, lots of people with bikes and backpacks, and a few ordinary looking folks, whatever that means.

After a bit more shopping and street wandering we found our way to the Eureka Food Co-Op, a truly remarkable store filled with amazing organic produce, grass fed meats from the surrounding valleys, and row upon row of amazing stuff. I managed to get out of there with one small bag of our favorite green tea that we can’t find anywhere else, a bunch of some really gorgeous strange looking kale, and organic endive. The giant murals on the outside street wall of the Co-Op are my favorite in the city.

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By the time we got back to the car the winds were stronger than ever and it was after 4pm. We thought it turned out to be a perfect day, in spite of the cold and wind. Jeremy was very vocal when we got back to the MoHo, scolding us for being gone so long. I immediately pulled out all the goodies and built some amazing quesadillas with our wonderful cheese, some spicy poached chicken I brought from home, onions, and jalapenos, all topped off with the sweet hot perfect pineapple salsa.

Tomorrow if the fog clears and the winds die down we will again attempt a kayak trip, but if not, the day will be filled again with explorations. The 100 mile Lost Coast trip is calling us, with some coastal explorations of places we haven’t yet seen, campgrounds we haven’t yet tried. Either way, it will be a good day.

More photos of our day in Eureka are here.

Day 7 Holland America’s own little island

I think most cruise lines that have Caribbean itineraries must own a piece of the Bahamas, some own whole islands, as this one owned by Holland America, others seem to own Cays on a bigger island somewhere. Either way, it’s usually a day before the final disembarkation that the ship slides into it’s own private dock and with only 2000 people or so to spread around, it can even feel a bit remote if you know how to get away from the crowds.

This morning our private island was Half Moon Cay (key), somewhere in the Bahamas. I finally looked on Google Earth to try to get the lay of the land among the sea, but still don’t have a good handle on all of it. This little island is very small, just a few miles across, and very low to the earth. The vegetation is short and scrubby with the only palm trees some newer planted ones around the newer fake West Indies Village.

I didn’t care about all that, though, because today we had pre-arranged our one ship excursion and were going to kayak on the inland lagoon. It was a good day to choose a bit of entertainment, since there wasn’t much else to do on the island except hang on the beach and listen to the music. Have I mentioned music on this cruise? Several bands were conducting our own private beach party by the water and it drew most of the ship’s crowd to that localized area for most of the day.

Deb was excited about the kayak trip, and we both knew there would be plenty of time for music later. We stayed on the top deck to watch the ship pull part way into the bay and see the tenders coming out from shore. These tenders are stored on the island so are much larger than the tenders carried on the ship, with a 25o person capacity. They would run all day at fifteen minute intervals so cruisers could come and go at will.

Once we landed, in no time we were on shore, signed up for our little kayak trip, and told to wait under the shelter for a half hour or so before we would be driven inland. There are pathways and narrow roads, with small open air vans that transport people to various water excursions, including para-sailing, jet-skiing, sailing, all the typical cruise excursion types of activities. We were glad we hadn’t tried to do any snorkeling with the cool temperatures, and high winds. Even kayaking was a bit of an effort in that stiff breeze, but it was still great entertainment.

I have to admit, I felt like I was slogging along the entire time on that heavy, sit-on-top plastic boat, with paddles that weighed five times as much as my slick new Werner’s. Deb and I asked for single boats and two other couples were part of our group in tandems and we set out on the crystal clear lagoon that was landlocked on the island. There were mangrove alleys to explore, but the tide was too low for entry, so we stayed on the main part of the water. Our guide was young, very talkative, and provided a basic view of the island life but didn’t have much knowledge of the actual ecosystem beyond grade school level, so that was a bit disappointing to me. I was there for the boating, however, and managed to have a great time.

Afterward, Deb and I chose to walk the pathways back to the beach and the big island bbq provided for us, with ribs and chicken and all the fixings. It was a decent meal, and I really enjoyed the watermelon and fresh berries. We then ambled down to the beach to find a couple of chairs and sit in the sun. The far end of the beach was quiet enough, but it was getting colder as a storm approached and the winds made it too uncomfortable to think about snorkeling, so we swam a bit and sat in the sun a bit before walking back to the beach party.

I walked to the far end of the beach, watching the people on the horseback riding excursion following the leader along the beach. They advertised riding in the ocean, but I didn’t see them enter once. They looked hot in long jeans and helmets, even on this cool day. Deb had considered the “ride the horse in the ocean” excursion, but we thought better of it and decided to kayak instead. I’m glad we did.

We needed to get back to the ship before 3:30, and the tender line was quite long when we went there at 2:30. It probably took 45 minutes to actually get back on the ship, but standing in line was entertaining while we listened to great music and had interesting conversations with other line-ees.

Once on the ship, we cleaned up, relaxed a bit, and went to the last dinner of the cruise in the dining room. This time we asked for a table for two only, not wanting to have to carry on conversations this evening with anyone but ourselves. It was good we went early, because the dining room filled almost immediately with very large groups of people pulling tables together and raucously celebrating the final night of the cruise. The dinner was excellent as usual, with the obligatory surf and turf meal that is usually offered at least one night on a cruise like this one. I am not a filet lover, and that was the steak on the menu. I also am of the mind that any good steak requires charcoal, so wasn’t too excited about my choice. When it was served, however, with our bottle of truly great Spanish wine, I was impressed. It was butter tender and flavorful even without the smoky flavor I think I require.

As we approached the end of our meal, I asked our waiter if the crew was going to do the dining room dance, the one where all the folks wave their napkins. I know it’s silly after the first time, but Deb hadn’t experienced the first time, and I remember how tickled I was when this happened to me on my first cruise a long time ago. Our waiter said, “No, we don’t do that on a charter cruise like this one. But if you wait just a few minutes there will be a special surprise.” In a few minutes, a few members of our Indonesian dining room staff took center stage in the brilliantly lit stairwell and proceeded to entertain us with a rousing blues tune that they had practiced for two months in readiness for this cruise. They were received with a standing ovation and lots of rowdy calls while several diners jumped up to dance. The small band played a few more songs and then played some of their own local Indonesian music for us as well. It was really sweet, and a real treat, and they were so proud of themselves. I’m glad the blues cruisers were the kind of people to appreciate their efforts and cheer them on. Old travelers can get a bit jaded and hard to impress sometimes. I was glad to see the happiness on their faces and the delight on the diner’s faces as well, including mine.

The dress code for the evening was pajamas. We decided to NOT wear pajamas to dinner, but afterward went to change. I have to admit, I felt truly silly in my pajamas, cute capris though they were, and while many people were wearing all sorts of get-ups, including shorties and big slippers, many people had avoided the pajama thing entirely. I wished I had been one of those, and before long went back to my cabin to change into something a bit more reasonable. It was just too dang early for pajamas.

Many more photos of this blue day on Half Moon Cay are located here.

Day 5 Deb celebrates a turquoise birthday on St John, USVI

For me, this was the day I had been waiting for the entire cruise. When Mo and I cruised in 2009, we ported in St Thomas and didn’t have enough time to take the ferry across a few miles of water to explore this magnificent island paradise. I read about St John, and wanted to see the lovely land covered by forests and trails and surrounded by pristine beaches and pure white sand.

Cruz Bay, located on the west coast of the island, is the largest commercial center and the location of the main port. We heard later in the day that it is rare for a cruise ship of this size to actually port in Cruz Bay, with most cruise lines choosing the more commercial port of Charlotte Amalie on St Thomas. The population of the town is under 3,000 people, and while there are shops and restaurants, the island is much more celebrated for it’s beautiful beaches and national park.

Word of the Blues Cruise landing here had spread throughout the local islands, and many folks from the British Virgin Islands, and the US Virgin Islands were also on shore ready to jam with the musicians on our ship. The St John department of tourism planned a full lineup of the local entertainment, cultural activities, and educational events to complement the arrival of such legendary performers. My daughter knew of musicians in St Croix that made the trip especially to be part of the shoreline activities on this day.

It was Deb’s birthday, but I was the one with a particular agenda for this day. No matter what we did later, I really wanted to spend some quality time on a St John Beach. With Trunk Bay being the most famous and listed somewhere as the second most beautiful beach in the world, I thought it would be a good choice. However, most of the blues performances were across the island at Coral Bay, all the pubs filled with great music all day long. The famous pubs there included Skinny Legs, Island Blues, and Shipwreck Landing, and the pub crawl was the order of the day. We compromised on a plan that included a taxi trip to Trunk Bay, possibly going on to Cinnamon Bay and ending the day at Coral Bay, taking the ship provided shuttle to return in time for the sail away.

The trip to shore was Deb’s first experience on a tender, and we were in line for an early departure from the ship so were on the first tender ashore. In this case, the tender process required a visit to the Main Stage to get a tender ticket, and then on to the tender. Deb went down there first and I was to follow immediately, but then realized that I had forgotten something, and had to run back to the cabin. Another long walk before I discovered I was going toward the wrong end of the ship made for more confusion. By the time I showed up at the Main Stage, they were calling my name and Deb was a bit distraught. It ended well, and we still managed to get on shore in plenty of time to locate an open air taxi to Trunk Bay.

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At Trunk Bay, the magic of the Caribbean washed over us completely. Deb rented chairs and an umbrella, and we walked down to the far quiet end of the beach to settle in for the morning.The air was warm, the skies were clear, and the water was translucent turquoise. The seas were still a bit rough from previous storms, however, so the famous national park snorkeling trail at Trunk Bay was closed. It would have been Deb’s first time with a snorkel, so we though better of trying to teach her the technique in choppy water, and instead filled our hours with swimming and floating and oohing and ahhing over the clarity and color of the water, the brilliance of that magic blue line between sea and sky, and the sound of palm fronds waving in the warm breezes.

If I were to think of a perfect vacation, it would include a week or so in a little house somewhere on this island, with time to explore every single one of it’s beaches and hike as many trails as possible that thread throughout the national park. I loved St John, and so did Deb. The photos of her on this beach are some of my favorites of all time. What better way to spend a birthday than this!

As mid afternoon wore on, we thought it might be time to amble on to Coral Bay, so reluctantly packed up and found another taxi. It seemed more reasonable to go back to Cruz Bay rather than try to get all the way around the island, so we did that with the encouragement of the taxi drivers. Once back at Cruz Bay, the entertainment going on at Frank Powell Park sounded fun, and someone said, “Hey, the music here is better than anything at Coral Bay”. That sounded fine to us, since we were tired and hungry and just wanted something good to eat and drink. Wandering down the walks through town led us to a little open air restaurant along the bay with a view of sailboats and water and our ship around the corner. We waited in the bar area for a seat, and a sweet looking man came up to us asking if we wanted lunch, and when we said yes, he led us to a big table for four right on the waterfront. Laughing, he said, “ I am the owner, I can seat you anywhere I want!”

I had a pina colada to die for, and we ordered some truly fabulous yummies for our late lunch. Dang if I can even remember what I ate, but I remember Deb saying hers was the best she ever had, and I know mine was. Again, I am reminded of just how much I can lose about a trip if I don’t write about it while I am doing it. As Erin reminded me recently, the goal is to have fun, not to write about it, so that is exactly what I did on this trip. So I have no clue what we had for lunch, but I do remember feeling absolutely and wonderfully happy and a bit tipsy as well. Perfect feeling for an afternoon on a tropical island, I think.

We sat there for a long time watching the water, listening to the distant music, before we decided we had no need to go anywhere else except this sweet little town. We ambled around town a bit, and then back in a park somewhere Deb ran into a young man who was incredibly sweet and friendly, offering her a bit of rum and talking about his life on the island. The flirtations were quite adorable, and safe, since her mom was with her and we were heading for the ship! I laughed with them and felt like “mom”. I was sure our sweet little guy had all sorts of ulterior motives, and Deb decided that she wanted to quit her job and move to the USVI where everyone was cute and friendly. Instead, we managed to return to the ship and to our cabin.

Once back on board, we had no need for supper and instead enjoyed the wild music sail away party on the back deck before going back to our cabin and dressing up for the evening. It was Deb’s birthday, after all, so she wore one of her prettiest dresses and we went back upstairs to listen to more music, dance, and have birthday toasts. Deb’s name was listed on the Daily Program with a few other birthdays, and a lovely chocolate cake was delivered to our stateroom. She also got several happy birthday coupons for spa treatments and such, but most of them including spending a fair amount of money, so she didn’t bother.

A perfect ending for her birthday celebration was the ships Dessert Extravaganza on the Lido Deck at 11pm. I have to say, I wasn’t that impressed with the artistry of the offerings at the Extravaganza. I guess I may have been spoiled by the beauty of our formal buffet’s at sea with Celebrity, but Holland America seems to be lacking in the expression of true loveliness and creativity that used to be standard with these kinds of specialties. More sweets, more music, and I went back to the cabin to fall into a deep rocking sleep while Deb danced up on deck until who knows when.

Not a bad birthday for this first born child of mine.

The rest of the photos for our day on St John are located here.