Keys vacation - part 2.
Mar. 17th, 2002 12:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rivkaSaturday
Our plan Saturday was to go snorkeling at Pennekamp State Park, which combines with a federal sancutary to protect the only living coral reef in the continental U.S. The protected grounds extend three miles out into the ocean - I think it's the only underwater park in the country. They've also got an aquarium, and glass-bottomed boat tours, and a beach, and canoe trails through the shore wetlands, and in general it seemed like a good place to spend the day.
Misha and I were a little slow getting up and moving, which caused some friction with my sister. (She wasn't aware of just how quickly we can get into gear when we need to. As she said - half despairingly, half apologetically - as we walked out the door: "You guys look the same whether you're going to be ready to leave in thirty minutes or ready to leave in two hours!" And it's true. Either way, we're in our bathrobes, drinking coffee or tea, and reading.)
Before we risked our lives in the open ocean, we did something even scarier: stopped off at Shell World, a supermarket-sized gift and souvenir shop down the road from our resort. There are no pictures of Shell World, not even a URL, because I like you all too much for that. We had to go there because I'd come on vacation without a floppy hat (they're hard to find in Maryland in winter), and between the blazing heat and my sun intolerance, there was no doubt that I needed one. I did my best to avert my eyes as we passed aisles and aisles of dolphin statues, brightly-dyed dead coral, stuffed manatees, and so forth, cultivating a sort of tunnel vision until we reached the hats. Many goofy and/or adorable straw hats were tried on, but I was finally persuaded to buy a lightweight tan nylon hat with a wide floppy brim, despite its lesser cuteness. The deciding factor was that the nylon hat had a strap and wouldn't fly off in the wind. I was dubious, but it turned out to be for the best - I would have lost a straw hat in about five minutes on our various boats. I seem to not have any pictures of said floppy hat, but don't worry - this post will include embarrassing pictures of me anyway.
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curiousangel really doesn't like to swim and had no intention of snorkeling, so he was planning to stay behind on shore. But fortunately, when we got to the park we discovered that a four hour combination sailing/snorkeling trip was available for just $6 more than snorkeling-only trips. That suited all three of us, so we bought tickets for the afternoon tour on the 38-foot catamaran Salsa. They set us up with our gear - they even had a whole row of prescription snorkel masks, from -1 to -10, so I got a mask that served just as well as my own glasses - and we went off to explore until our trip.
The park visitor center was incredible - an entire aquarium replicating part the reef (although I assume the coral in the aquarium was dead) and all sorts of exhibits and smaller tanks explaining the sea life we were about to tour. I hadn't really realized that coral is all alive - millions of tiny animals building those weird fanciful science fiction shapes together. I got more and more excited as we went on. We had lunch - conch fritters this time, sort of like tiny crab cakes, only made with conch meat, which is closer to clam than crab - claimed our wet suits (because the water temperature was only 72 degrees), and made our way out to the boat.
I was a little disappointed that we made most of our trip out to the reef using the motor instead of sails. It certainly felt like there was enough wind - it was even slightly chilly in the shade. But it was great to be out on the water in any case. For the first part of the trip, we followed a narrow channel marked with big road signs (really!) set on posts. I guess buoys are too subtle for their purposes. But then we were really out on the open water, and the sun shone and the water was striped in bright shades of turquoise and azure, and at some point that looked just like any other point we anchored and got ready to snorkel.
So, it turns out that I should have practiced in a pool or in calm water first.
Debbie had snorkeled before, but I was a complete beginner. They gave us a quick how-to lesson, but mostly they emphasized that we were above a protected coral reef, and that if our bodies or fins or hands touched any part of the reef, we would crush and destroy federally protected organisms. We were forbidden to ever be in a legs-downward position - not just standing, but also treading water was disallowed. Or else. Any kind of re-adjustment of snorkels or masks had to be done in one of two positions: prone, or on our backs. Then they pointed us in the direction of the reef and let us go.
The first thing I noticed was, "Hey! I can see and breathe underwater! How cool is that?" The second thing I noticed was that the waves were pretty choppy and I couldn't really see the buoy we were supposed to be heading for, but I followed Debbie, who seemed to know where she was going. And then we were over the reef. It was... wow. As silly as it sounds, I couldn't get over the fact that these aquarium exhibits were right out in the open, in the wild, and I was seeing them. Brain coral. Sea fans. Hordes of brightly colored tropical fish. The most amazing thing I saw was a stoplight parrotfish, practically lying on its side on the bottom and giving me a good view of all its colors. It was hard to believe that all of the things that looked like rocks and plants were coral, collected tiny organisms. It was amazing.
I was having trouble, though. It was just hard to get the hang of breathing. I had one bad moment near the very beginning when I stopped to adjust my mask, rolled over on my back, and couldn't figure out how to get re-started. The waves were slapping me in the face and making it hard for me to get my snorkel emptied of salt water and back into the proper configuration. I eventually got situated, with Debbie's help, but I'd swallowed some salt water and gotten myself tired. As time went on, I got even more tired. I kept getting seawater in the snorkel amd having trouble clearing it. Every time I stopped to try to fix things, I struggled to keep from falling into a legs-down position and killing coral or being dragged off by the ocean police. And, of course, as I got more anxious and fatigued I started breathing harder, and it was difficult to pull enough air through the little snorkel tube.
"I need a rest," I finally said. "I want to go back to the boat." It took us a while to work our way there, and by the time I got on board I was feeling pretty low. I had a bellyful of seawater, and I also just felt like an idiot for not being able to get the hang of it. I'd been all excited about snorkeling, and then I couldn't do it. Deb went back out with some other folks who'd come in to rest, and I sat and felt sorry for myself for a while while Misha brought me fresh water to drink and tried to cheer me up. (He gets major forbearance points, as usual.)
Eventually, things started to look better. I had seen some amazing sea life, sights I'd never seen before and wouldn't be able to see any other ways. The trip was not a waste. Trying something new and challenging was not a waste. Even if I hadn't stayed in the water for the whole time, I'd given it a good try. Now I just knew I'd need more practice in calm water before I tried snorkeling in the ocean again, is all. And besides, there was that stoplight parrotfish. And we were sailing back, not using the motor. I perked up.
At home, we showered and watched the sunset from the dock. Debbie was very supportive about my snorkeling efforts, which was particularly nice of her because she'd had to spend so much of the first part of the trip shepherding me around and worrying about me.
We decided to cross the road to have dinner at the restaurant where we'd eaten lunch the day before. The dinner menu offered yellowtail prepared eight different ways - a fish I'd only ever seen prepared one way before, raw on a pillow of rice. But my Jamaican jerked fish sandwich had been so good the day before that I couldn't resist the Jamaican jerked scallops for dinner. They gave me a dozen scallops on two skewers, with a big pile of black beans and dirty rice. The jerk spices and the sweetness of the scallops balanced each other perfectly, and the scallops themselves were melt-in-your-mouth fresh. The black beans and rice were miles better than the previous night's version, subtly spiced and flavorful, playing up and filling out the flavors of the jerked scallops. Once again - and this would be a consistent theme throughout the trip - I had no room to try key lime pie for dessert.
Our plan Saturday was to go snorkeling at Pennekamp State Park, which combines with a federal sancutary to protect the only living coral reef in the continental U.S. The protected grounds extend three miles out into the ocean - I think it's the only underwater park in the country. They've also got an aquarium, and glass-bottomed boat tours, and a beach, and canoe trails through the shore wetlands, and in general it seemed like a good place to spend the day.
Misha and I were a little slow getting up and moving, which caused some friction with my sister. (She wasn't aware of just how quickly we can get into gear when we need to. As she said - half despairingly, half apologetically - as we walked out the door: "You guys look the same whether you're going to be ready to leave in thirty minutes or ready to leave in two hours!" And it's true. Either way, we're in our bathrobes, drinking coffee or tea, and reading.)
Before we risked our lives in the open ocean, we did something even scarier: stopped off at Shell World, a supermarket-sized gift and souvenir shop down the road from our resort. There are no pictures of Shell World, not even a URL, because I like you all too much for that. We had to go there because I'd come on vacation without a floppy hat (they're hard to find in Maryland in winter), and between the blazing heat and my sun intolerance, there was no doubt that I needed one. I did my best to avert my eyes as we passed aisles and aisles of dolphin statues, brightly-dyed dead coral, stuffed manatees, and so forth, cultivating a sort of tunnel vision until we reached the hats. Many goofy and/or adorable straw hats were tried on, but I was finally persuaded to buy a lightweight tan nylon hat with a wide floppy brim, despite its lesser cuteness. The deciding factor was that the nylon hat had a strap and wouldn't fly off in the wind. I was dubious, but it turned out to be for the best - I would have lost a straw hat in about five minutes on our various boats. I seem to not have any pictures of said floppy hat, but don't worry - this post will include embarrassing pictures of me anyway.
curiousangel really doesn't like to swim and had no intention of snorkeling, so he was planning to stay behind on shore. But fortunately, when we got to the park we discovered that a four hour combination sailing/snorkeling trip was available for just $6 more than snorkeling-only trips. That suited all three of us, so we bought tickets for the afternoon tour on the 38-foot catamaran Salsa. They set us up with our gear - they even had a whole row of prescription snorkel masks, from -1 to -10, so I got a mask that served just as well as my own glasses - and we went off to explore until our trip. The park visitor center was incredible - an entire aquarium replicating part the reef (although I assume the coral in the aquarium was dead) and all sorts of exhibits and smaller tanks explaining the sea life we were about to tour. I hadn't really realized that coral is all alive - millions of tiny animals building those weird fanciful science fiction shapes together. I got more and more excited as we went on. We had lunch - conch fritters this time, sort of like tiny crab cakes, only made with conch meat, which is closer to clam than crab - claimed our wet suits (because the water temperature was only 72 degrees), and made our way out to the boat.
I was a little disappointed that we made most of our trip out to the reef using the motor instead of sails. It certainly felt like there was enough wind - it was even slightly chilly in the shade. But it was great to be out on the water in any case. For the first part of the trip, we followed a narrow channel marked with big road signs (really!) set on posts. I guess buoys are too subtle for their purposes. But then we were really out on the open water, and the sun shone and the water was striped in bright shades of turquoise and azure, and at some point that looked just like any other point we anchored and got ready to snorkel.
So, it turns out that I should have practiced in a pool or in calm water first.
Debbie had snorkeled before, but I was a complete beginner. They gave us a quick how-to lesson, but mostly they emphasized that we were above a protected coral reef, and that if our bodies or fins or hands touched any part of the reef, we would crush and destroy federally protected organisms. We were forbidden to ever be in a legs-downward position - not just standing, but also treading water was disallowed. Or else. Any kind of re-adjustment of snorkels or masks had to be done in one of two positions: prone, or on our backs. Then they pointed us in the direction of the reef and let us go.
The first thing I noticed was, "Hey! I can see and breathe underwater! How cool is that?" The second thing I noticed was that the waves were pretty choppy and I couldn't really see the buoy we were supposed to be heading for, but I followed Debbie, who seemed to know where she was going. And then we were over the reef. It was... wow. As silly as it sounds, I couldn't get over the fact that these aquarium exhibits were right out in the open, in the wild, and I was seeing them. Brain coral. Sea fans. Hordes of brightly colored tropical fish. The most amazing thing I saw was a stoplight parrotfish, practically lying on its side on the bottom and giving me a good view of all its colors. It was hard to believe that all of the things that looked like rocks and plants were coral, collected tiny organisms. It was amazing.
I was having trouble, though. It was just hard to get the hang of breathing. I had one bad moment near the very beginning when I stopped to adjust my mask, rolled over on my back, and couldn't figure out how to get re-started. The waves were slapping me in the face and making it hard for me to get my snorkel emptied of salt water and back into the proper configuration. I eventually got situated, with Debbie's help, but I'd swallowed some salt water and gotten myself tired. As time went on, I got even more tired. I kept getting seawater in the snorkel amd having trouble clearing it. Every time I stopped to try to fix things, I struggled to keep from falling into a legs-down position and killing coral or being dragged off by the ocean police. And, of course, as I got more anxious and fatigued I started breathing harder, and it was difficult to pull enough air through the little snorkel tube.
"I need a rest," I finally said. "I want to go back to the boat." It took us a while to work our way there, and by the time I got on board I was feeling pretty low. I had a bellyful of seawater, and I also just felt like an idiot for not being able to get the hang of it. I'd been all excited about snorkeling, and then I couldn't do it. Deb went back out with some other folks who'd come in to rest, and I sat and felt sorry for myself for a while while Misha brought me fresh water to drink and tried to cheer me up. (He gets major forbearance points, as usual.)
Eventually, things started to look better. I had seen some amazing sea life, sights I'd never seen before and wouldn't be able to see any other ways. The trip was not a waste. Trying something new and challenging was not a waste. Even if I hadn't stayed in the water for the whole time, I'd given it a good try. Now I just knew I'd need more practice in calm water before I tried snorkeling in the ocean again, is all. And besides, there was that stoplight parrotfish. And we were sailing back, not using the motor. I perked up.
At home, we showered and watched the sunset from the dock. Debbie was very supportive about my snorkeling efforts, which was particularly nice of her because she'd had to spend so much of the first part of the trip shepherding me around and worrying about me.
We decided to cross the road to have dinner at the restaurant where we'd eaten lunch the day before. The dinner menu offered yellowtail prepared eight different ways - a fish I'd only ever seen prepared one way before, raw on a pillow of rice. But my Jamaican jerked fish sandwich had been so good the day before that I couldn't resist the Jamaican jerked scallops for dinner. They gave me a dozen scallops on two skewers, with a big pile of black beans and dirty rice. The jerk spices and the sweetness of the scallops balanced each other perfectly, and the scallops themselves were melt-in-your-mouth fresh. The black beans and rice were miles better than the previous night's version, subtly spiced and flavorful, playing up and filling out the flavors of the jerked scallops. Once again - and this would be a consistent theme throughout the trip - I had no room to try key lime pie for dessert.
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Ways to serve yellowtail
Date: 2002-03-16 10:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-03-17 09:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-03-17 10:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-03-17 01:24 pm (UTC)And I couldn't help thinking of "Notting Hill".
no subject
Date: 2002-03-17 10:36 am (UTC)They did concede that every once in a long while, someone might spot a nurse shark swimming along the bottom, but since they are bottom feeders, they won't bother you unless you do something profoundly stupid, like go pull on the shark's tail.
After a while, before you returned to the boat, one woman and her mother came back in a tearing hurry, and she proclaimed that she was indeed the "one in a blue moon" snorkeler who saw a shark. She couldn't give much in the way of identification, but the guides were pretty sure that she had spotted a nurse shark. She went on about at some length, causing me to privately dub her "SharkGirl", but she did agree to go back into the water with Debbie and someone else. Later on, another snorkeler reported sighting the shark, and he was able to give a little more coherent account of the critter, confirming that it was indeed a nurse shark.
As we were returning to the dock, SharkGirl was overheard to say, "You know, in about a week, this will turn out to be pretty cool."
Re:
Date: 2002-03-17 10:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-03-17 11:30 am (UTC)-J
no subject
Date: 2002-03-17 12:39 pm (UTC)in the continental U.S. The protected grounds extend three miles out into the ocean - I think it's the only underwater park in the country.
Not the only, although they lay claim to being the first. There are actually a bunch of underwater parks in the US, and more likely if the current push to establsh more Federal Marine Reserves survives the Bush administration. Here are some others; a google on "underwater park" will give you loads more. Just in case you two liked the experience (and it sounds as if you did) enough to want to make it a travel theme ... (-:
http://scilib.ucsd.edu/sio/ocean/uwpk/
http://www.ci.edmonds.wa.us/parks.htm
http://dhr.dos.state.fl.us/bar/uap/
http://www.saintbrendan.com/cdnfeb/catalin2.html
http://www.wildernet.com/pages/area.cfm?areaID=HISPHB&CU_ID=110
In practice, the ones I know about vary from "fascinating experience" to "Way too popular" (Catalina Island, frex) to "kinda tacky but fun" ... Some of the most interesting ones are associated with old shipwrecks.
Just seizing on a rare opportunity to share some knowledge acquired through my Day Job in the communications office of one of 30 state Sea Grant programs across the country ... which, come to think of it, is a fairly cool job to have. (-: