We went back to the Bahamas to our favorite resort, Columbus Isle, Club Med. It’s a bit of a journey getting here, but worth it. We left at midnight on Thursday night and arrived at the Miami Sheraton at 1:00 Friday afternoon. Did you know that Southwest doesn’t have inflight TVs even for the long flights? Also, no food, except pretzels and pistachios. It’s a little cheaper but not worth it, in my opinion.
I’m not sure I recommend this overnight flight because we were exhausted. We spent the day trying to stay awake as long as possible. However, that meant we slept like babies that night and woke up ready to go. By two in the afternoon we were floating in the crystal-clear turquoise Bahamian waters. It was the calm before the storm.
The next day it was overcast and a little choppy, but we went on an afternoon dive leaving from the scuba dock. We were the only ones on the boat. A friendly reef shark accompanied us the whole dive. The next day the dock was dismantled in preparation for the incoming storm and extreme high-tide, so we left from the marina.
A little back story is needed here… the reason we go to this resort at this time is because it’s the opening week of the season. Our plane was the first to arrive on Sunday so we had the resort and the GOs (guest organizers) all to ourselves until the Canadian team came in on Tuesday. Then the French arrive on Thursdays.
So back to my story… The head of scuba asked us to dive with the dive-team. What a great dive. Joe and me with a team of pros. We went to Grouper Gulley to see Jojo the pet grouper. Normally you’d never-ever touch a fish, but Jojo is kind of like a cat. He’s a pet grouper. He raced up to us as soon as we got in the water to be petted. He went to each of us in turn. Honestly, there’s nothing quite like petting a fish in the wild. He would follow us through tunnels and if we stopped to look at some cool little crab or something, he’d be right next to us trying to see what we were looking at. Ben had to push him out of the way a couple of times. Lionfish are a serious pest in the Caribbean, so the divers with special instructions from the Bahamian government are allowed to kill them. Dead lionfish are a delicacy to groupers… this might account for Jojo’s affection ;)
Well, that was our last dive. The water became too choppy and Joe’s ear was hurting. So we suffered at the pool and the beach bar for the next week. Difficult life, I know. The ocean was too rough to play in (for me—Joe and Bill went in every day and came out with pound of sand in their swim-trunks). The rain caused a population explosion in the world of sand-fleas. You could tell at a glance who went to the beach by the 50-60 red welts on their legs.
As we wandered around the resort looking for entertainment, we came across a giant chess set. The kings were knee-high. Joe and the bored tennis-pro, Jonathon, decided to play a game. This attracted a teenage boy who stood off to the side analyzing their every move. Finally, Joe convinced the kid to help him beat Jonathon, which didn’t work. From that point on the chess board became a meeting point. Turns out that kid was very good.
By the end of the first week, lots of families had arrived. One multigenerational family stood out to me. Grandparents, parents and a little boy and girl. Everyone took turns playing with the kids, but Grandpa was clearly the favorite. One time the little ones were taking way to long to get in the water, so Grandpa pushed them both in. The little girl came up spitting-mad. She immediately started trying to push Grandpa in with her baby brother’s help. He pretended to be overpowered by them until he was at the edge, then he grabbed both their wrists and pulled them in with him. Too fun. It brought back memories of my father.
The rainy weather went away and we had more floating in the ocean time. Getting out was a little tricky because the storm had eroded the beach and created a drop-off. That meant you really couldn’t get a foot hold to get out. I felt like a football player running up the surf with my knees as high as they’d go.
The big island excitement came in the second week when the jumbo jet from France was scheduled to come pick up the French and drop off a fresh batch. One of the airport’s firetrucks broke down. Apparently, for jumbo jets, two trucks are required. This was a problem. We had two hundred guests, packed and ready to go. When the departure time came and went, the guests all returned to their rooms and changed into their swimsuits and jumped in the pool. The next day they were flown to Dominican Republic in two smaller planes and the French on their plane stayed at Punta Cana Club Med. From that point on the resort was a quarter full. It was like a ghost town. The GOs were so sad to not be overwhelmingly busy. Their energy borders on miraculous. The resort manager even sent his mechanics over to help repair the fire truck.
Our return home was so full of delays in every area that it became a comedy. The biggie was when we finally got on our delayed flight and lightening struck. That shut down everything on the tarmac—for two hours. Lucky for us we had our own ear buds to watch a movie, because the flight crew explained that they didn’t have any. That went over well. When the pilot announced we were ready to detach from the gate, he found out there was a shift-change for the gate-detacher dudes. Twenty minutes later the plane backed up and everyone applauded. We arrived home three hours late… but we made it!
