"Pirates" of the Caribbean

Last week my Mom and younger sister Clare were here in St. Lucia for a conference. Thankfully they remained a few days after it ended so we had time to hang out and explore together. One afternoon I got out of the hospital particularly early so we headed up to Gros Islet to explore.

Gros Islet is a little town at the northwest side of St. Lucia and I'd only been there one night previously for a Jump Up, or street party. The town appeared quite different during the day, although we didn't really bother exploring and headed straight for the beach. Wandering north we entered "all-inclusive hotel land" and were struck by the dozens of inhabitants in/around the pool in front of the hotel surrounded by palm trees overlooking a white sand beach and clear caribbean sea - and the sparsity of persons actually on the white sand beach or in the clear Caribbean sea. Honestly, they'd likely have been just as happy with a hollywood backdrop of the same view...

A little further north and we found ourselves along a slender arm of sand connecting St. Lucia to Pigeon Island which formerly housed pirates and outlaws since they had a clear view of all oncoming attackers. As we walked out we gazed across calm, turquoise water to our left and turbulent greenish Atlantic water to our right. What an incredible difference to view white capped Atlantic waves crashing on the rocks while a mere 40 feet away a turquoise sea calmly lapped at the beach.

Hours later, returning home we stopped to swim just south of resort land. Just as visions of emerging back onto land danced in our heads a storm appeared on the horizon. Rather than emerging to dry off in the midst of a storm Clare and I decided to remain swimming while Mom sought shelter for herself and our stuff under a pathetically leafed tree which offered no shelter.

The rain felt more like hail and sinking deeper into the water so only our heads were exposed we peered out across the water pockmarked with raindrops and a sheen of mist rising inches upwards. Off in the distance at the edge of the inlet were 3 sailing ships which took on the appearance of pirate ships.

After such a lovely day, we eventually emerged wrinkly fingered from the ocean into a cooler evening breeze, dressed in our then-wet clothes and sat our wet selves on the front seat of a minibus to head home. The driver appeared happier to see us get off than he did to see us get on.