The ocean crashed over the deck of the Sea Prince IV, as its passengers huddled under a blue tarp, protecting them from the mayhem that rained down from above. Some held on to the rails, to keep them from falling overboard into vilolently swaying seas. Others slid from side to side, emptying their stomachs of anything that had decided to come forth. I’ll never forget the faces of two Dutch men sharing a conversation, laughing, while sipping back on beers as the ship violently rocked back and forth. It was if they were pointing and laughing at Poseidon himself. If you told me this would be the start of 3 days spent on a remote Caribbean Island, I would’ve graciously stayed in the city of Granada for just a few more days.
Little Corn island sits 50 miles off the coastline of Nicaragua, and by pictures alone, this Caribbean paradise looked to be a slice of heaven. Turquoise colored waters, swaying palm trees and powder white sand, what’s not to like? I met a beautiful girl from Connecticut and an intersting mate from Amsterdam, port side, on the adventure over. Since we managed to not fall overboard, we all disembarked the boat together. We were not greeted on the island to colorful rum filled glasses with umbrellas, not to the sounds of calypso music, not to an orange blazed setting sun, but to clothes soaked in sea water, shivering bones, mild nausea, and the sight of pitch black skies.
The following days would include hikes through mud filled swamps, scavenging around empty resorts, and fighting off multiple rounds of mosquitos that rivaled the locusts that were spoken about in the bible. Did I mention the loose Alligator that claimed to be living in the swamps we had just trekked through? I had a t-shirt swiped from the hostel I was staying at, was bunked with a crazy drunk girl from Switzerland and for the most part, had lost all concept of time. For some, paradise had turned into hell in just a few short days. For others, including myself, we made the best of it. Why we didn’t drown ourselves in alcohol like Captain Jack Sparrow for the next two days, I don’t know, but looking back, it wouldn’t have been such a bad idea.
A few locals had heard rumors of a sea faring vessel heading west, possibly departing the next day at sunrise. Instead of spending another day locked up on the island, my east coast belle and I decided to venture out early to see if it was true. To our delight, our chariot would be waiting dockside for not only us, but a large group of castaways as well. We sailed back west towards Big Corn Island, where we would share of all things, a Buzz Lightyear bed by nights end.
If there was one thing that I had taken away from this particular trip, it was that paradise isn’t always found on the outside. On this specific venture, paradise turned out to be found completety from the inside.
To infinity and beyond …