Day 88 - April Fools Day!

April 1st we spent at Warderick Wells, swimming, sunning, and exploring the park. A big french toast breakfast on board kicked off the day. Fed and full, Connor, Megan, and I hiked overland to the park headquarters along the island's trails while Pete and Pete took the dinghy across the bay and met us there. It was a good 45 minute hike over jagged, coral rock. The sun was already high in the sky and with the dense vegetation blocking the breeze, the heat was stifling.


We arrived with sore feet and scratched legs, sweat soaking our shirts, to find Pete and Pete lazily reclining on the beach. They'd been there for a while already, had fully checked out the visitor's center, and were ready to go. When we stumbled in, they left us the dinghy and ambled off down the trail back to the boat. the visitor's center wasn't much of a place. Ten minutes later we were ready to go. We started up the Seagull outboard and headed out. The Seagull ran steadily for about thirty seconds, just long enough to get us out into ebb tide. Then it coughed a few times and died. I checked the fuel tank. Empty. An excellent April Fools joke from Pete and Pete!


It was a demanding row back to the dock for Connor with three in the boat, against the tide and wind. Seeing our dilemma, a couple guys from the visitor's center came out in their boat and gave us a tow the final fifty yards in. Megan stayed with the dinghy. Connor and I headed back down the trails to the boat to get gas. Connor, in flip flops, walked. I jogged ahead in my sneakers and caught up to Pete and Pete just as they reached the beach across from our boat.

We three Petes swam out to Strolla and climbed aboard up the anchor chain. Just as we reached the deck, Megan arrived at the bow of a big speed boat belonging to one of the mega-yachts anchored a half mile out in deeper water. After describing our dilemma to them back at the park offices, they had agreed to take her to get fuel. I grabbed a gas can from the cockpit, hopped aboard, and then Megan and I and our new friends sped off back to the dinghy.

For whatever reason, the man driving the speed boat didn't want to take us all the way back to the visitor's center. Instead, he dropped us at a beach about halfway. I was barefoot and bare chested from swimming out to Strolla. My shoes were still back on the beach by the boat. With all the thorny bushes and sharp rocks covering the island there was no way I would be able to walk the several miles still to go to get to the dinghy. Nor could I return to the boat. I was stuck on the beach we'd been dropped at. Megan had never started or driven the Seagull before. Excellent April Fools from our new friends!

Megan and I went over the things to check and steps to take to start up the Seagull. Then I handed her the gas can, said a silent prayer, and hunkered down in the shade for a long wait. I couldn't even sleep, but had to stay awake and alert for the next hour and a half fending off the advances of a couple of curious lizards. I may have won the day, but they won my respect with their perseverance, and strategy. Two pronged attacks, feints, and even flanking movements were all employed in their attempts to reach me. I don't know what they thought they'd find, but they never gave up.


Megan arrived in the dinghy and together we sped off back to the boat. The rest of the morning and afternoon was whiled away on the beach by our boat, swimming, snacking, and topless sunbathing. I now have a mighty tan.


At four thirty when the tide was slack, we swam back to the boat to get ready for snorkeling. It was while we were all back aboard that we spotted a black shape moving through the water a short ways off, just beneath the waves. After watching it from the deck for a while, I dove into the dinghy and, seeing that no one was following my lead, tore off after the shape alone. When I was directly over it, I donned my snorkel mask and, dinghy still moving, dove overboard to see what it was.

It turned out to be a huge manta ray, as big as the dinghy, gliding slowly through the aquamarine water, completely nonplussed by my sudden arrival on the scene. Enchanted by its silent grace, I swam along beside it, towing the dinghy behind me by its painter. Growing bored with my company, the ray eventually turned and loped off into the blue green depths.

The snorkeling was excellent. Columns of coral thriving with plant and animal life were scattered randomly across the sea floor, interspersed by stretches of clean, white sand. Huge rock lobsters were everywhere, crawling around and dueling with each other like giant insects. When caught out on the sand they would stand their ground, but if they had somewhere to hide, they shot off in a frantic backwards swim, even slamming into the coral columns in their desperation to get away.

We snorkeled right through the slack tide and then headed back to the boat for a big spaghetti dinner. Climbing up from the cabin with my full plate to sit in the cockpit, I tripped and dumped the scalding plate down my leg and all over the bench. April Fools! I was able to salvage enough not to go to bed hungry.

With dinner over, Pete Rowell mixed up rum punch for everyone and Megan got on the VHF radio to ask our neighboring boaters if anyone had any ice they could spare. After her third attempt with no answer, I grabbed the hand-held VHF from the abandon ship bag, climbed up to the bow and answered her. I was able to string her along for quite a while before she caught on. April Fools Megan!

I slept soundly, adding my snores to what has become a very noisy boat.