Culebra

So, to get there, you have to take a ferry. Which leaves at 9:00 AM, but the tickets go on sale at 7:00 AM, so you have to leave your apartment in Condado around 5:45. So we did that.

Arrived, parked, got in line, waited until 7:00, bought tickets ($13 for a family of four for there-and-back hour-and-a-quarter open-ocean ferry service), settled in to wait at the docks.



The ferry's pretty big. Here she blows:



Speaking of politics: Saw a woman who looks EXACTLY like Leyla Rouhi. Here she is:



She gave me permission to publish her likeness, by the by. In writing. In perpetuity.

Kids got a little restless, and so did we, but eventually we boarded.



Found seats together inside, in the air conditioning, and settled in to wait for takeoff. Q heard a blast from a horn at one point, just as I was ready to take a picture:



Live for those moments. T was asleep before too long:



And there was a very dignified gentleman sitting near us, who was clearly begging to be photographed, and who gave me written permission, again, to use his image in perpetuity. (Same form as the other lady.)



And before you knew it, we were disembarking at Culebra:



It's an island, 'case you hadn't realized, that is very small, but is part of Puerto Rican territory, and is relatively untouched. Fumbled our way through town to a place that purported to be a bakery. They had a limited selection of donuts and diet sodas, so we settled in to wait out the ferry crowd - the thing holds 400, and hardly any seats were open. On a Wednesday! Imagine the weekend! So when we'd eaten and rested a bit in the coolness, and the crowds had gone, I set out to find a van to drive us ($3 a head) to Playa Flamenco, renowned as one of the best beaches in the world, according to the locals. And here's our approach:



And here's our landing:



It was great. Clean, fine, white sand, clear water (not as clear as I imagined it, but very clear) - and lots of people. I mean, quite a large number of people. Look around - and again, I repeat, this was a Wednesday. I said to Janneke that our tour book says "Culebra hasn't been discovered by the tourism industry yet", and that that seems like total crap. "Well, the book is four years old," she said. Aha. Hadn't thought of that.

The beach was great. But it was just for jumping around in the water, which the kids have had a lot of, and just a 20-minute hike from there, the book said, there's another beach, with great snorkeling. So after an hour or so and our bag lunch, we trooped them over the mountain to see this other beach.

Now, as we sat there, Janneke and I, discussing snorkeling, it occurred to me that I had not remembered to wear my contact lenses. And so I would not be snorkeling. I was remarkably sanguine about it, I have to say, considering how much I really do love snorkeling, and how I'd remembered to shave my upper lip down the previous evening. It just wasn't in the cards - I can't wear glasses under my swim mask! You can't do that - it won't work. The ear pieces would keep the mask from sealing. You'd have to get rid of the ear piec--

Wait a minute.

Leaping into action, I stayed exactly where I was and managed to unscrew the ear piece with my thumbnail from the right hand side of my glasses. Realizing this wasn't going to work twice - the other screw was a lot tighter - I scampered back down the fine-sand path and bought a diet Pepsi from a bartender, then asked him if I could borrow a knife so I could unscrew my ear piece.

"I have some of those really tiny screwdrivers," he said. And he walked out to his car and brought me back a complete set.

Lucky, I thought, to run into this gentleman today. I wasted no time, and soon the ear piece was off. "Now," I said to him, "if only I could find some rubber bands!..."

Which he produced for me forthwith.

Cha, ching. Skipping forward a bit in time, I'll show you what these babies look like head-on:



And in profile:



Brilliant. Mask seals right around 'em, no problem. 'Course, when you're not snorkeling, they do put kind of a lot of pressure on your nose. There has to be some way to remedy that!...Hey, T: Pass me your Gatorade bottle:



Two words: Mac. Gyver.

There were a lot of seagulls at this beach - first time we see decent numbers of them. Wonder why.



Off we trooped to the other beach. Whose name I can't recall, but which is awesome. Check it:







We snorkeled the bejeezus out of that place. A very lovely, clear water they have there, with a very wide variety of landscapes and formations to explore. Each of us saw many species of fish we hadn't seen when we snorkeled in Rincón. If I could do it over again, I'd do Culebra rather than Rincón, and I'd skip Playa Flamenco and head straight to this place again. There was NO ONE ELSE THERE. We had the whole earth to ourselves. Pristine.

Back to the bus when it was all over - but while we trooped there (me with a popped T on my shoulders), I realized one of my flippers had fallen out of my bag, and had to run all the way back to the beach to find it. The rest continued on without me, and I caught up with them back at Flamenco Beach, just as a downpour started. I was wearing my glasses around my neck now (they really do press hard after a while), and couldn't see well enough to look for them - but I heard them coming my way. We all four found shelter under the same eave at the same time, strangely, and were together again. Nice how that works out.

Hired a van, back to the beach, onto the ferry (after a somewhat complicated session of changing back into our civilian clothes after swimming, right there on the dock; Janneke was demure behind a screen of towels we set up for her, as were T and Q (I, though, made some token motions toward decency by going close to a trailer that kind of screened parts of me, but then just dropped trou and did 'em up commando style. Hey, if they don't want to watch, they can turn away. (yeah, right. Sure they can.))))

(I can't keep track of how many parentheses I had going there - it's too late in the evening. I threw in a couple extra, probably, for good measure. (Keep the change.)) (")" ?...)

Ferry ride to Fajardo:






...dinner at Burger King (hey, it's cheap(ish), it's fast, it's reliable, there are no surprises, and we were bushed), and home to San Juan, via Highway 66, which is a marvel of modern transportation.

WHOO! I am finished with le post! Off to shower and to bed. Janneke wanted to watch an episode of "Mad Men" tonight, but it's 10:08. I told her I wouldn't make it. She's probably in there watching some Masterpiece Theater piece about starvation in 9th-century Russia.

Aw, who'm I kidding. She's re-watching "The Real Macaw". I'll bet you anything.

Tell you what - One last treat before you go: Can' blink comfortably with the MacGyver glasses on, and they press on the nose. There's got to be some way, when not snorkeling, to put the pressure downwards rather than upwards - To take advantage, as it were, of the nose pieces of the glasses. Aha! I've got it!




That's how I ordered our meals at Burger King.

And nobody called the cops or tazed us or anything. What a lucky day!