Day 6: Thanksgiving Snorkeling

Scotts Head

We spend the morning snorkeling at two spots. After talking to others, we could have easily done a dive, as Andrew and I are both certified. But we're both rusty, and we wanted to make our trip as stress-free as possible.

The first snorkel spot is by Scotts Head, a small outcropping of land at the southern tip of the island. Coral reefs abound in the protected bay, close enough to swim to. The water is warm and the sea life is abundant. We watch as a sea turtle slowly moves through the water.

A local man cuts us two coconuts with his cutlass (machete), filling our water bottles with the sweet water and making spoons to scoop out the meat inside. The coconut water is perfect after the sun and salt water.


The view from Scotts Head, the Atlantic ocean on the left, the Caribbean sea on the right. (If you enlarge the photo, you can see our SUV on the small isthmus of land.)

Champagne Beach

The second snorkel spot is at Champagne Beach. The name "Champagne Beach" derives from a sub-aquatic hot spring which causes tiny streams of sulfur bubbles to rise from cracks in the rock floor. The beach itself is covered with rocks and large pebbles, not so easy to walk on. We enter with our gear at the middle of the beach and snorkel around. No bubbles. No fish. Nothing. Andrew calls to someone on the beach "Where are the bubbles?". No response.

Then we notice a tour guide leading a couple to rocky spot on the very far end of the beach. We follow them along the shore and suddenly...bubbles everywhere. The sight and sensation is unreal, it really does feel and look like swimming in champagne bubbles.

The aquatic life around the sulfur bubbles is strange and amazing - multi color fish, strange anenomes, and big puffy sponges. A school of barracuda circles us and decides we aren't tasty enough for further interest.

NOTE: photo taken from A Viritual Dominica

We head back to Calabishie along the coastal route. We stop at the rental shop along the way to get our SUV looked at, as it has started to make strange noises. While it's being repaired, we explore around and meet Ingrid, who runs a roadside BBQ stand next to the shop (called "Snackettes"). She lives in the next town up, her husband works as a mechanic at the rental shop and her parents live in the hill above the stand.

She tell us about her family, all about her two girls and feeds us some great bbq.

Red Rocks and Dixon

We've booked our last two night at Calabishie Lodges and arrive just before dusk. With just a little daylight left, we venture up behind the hills of the guesthouse to Red Rocks, a red clay outcropping over the sea.

We make our way past a very friendly one-room house (five people live there!) and continue walking through a small grove of passion fruit trees. We walk past more gardens and onto a house under construction where we meet Dixon, the owner and builder of the house. He happily gives us a tour of his land, which extends all the way to Red Rocks. He says his family owned many lots of land in this area, his father is German, his mother Domincan, his siblings scattered all over the world. He chose to stay in Calabishie, build a house, and grow fruits and vegetables on his land.

He takes us out to the cliffs of Red Rock, and although the sun is rapidly setting, the scene is indeed beautiful, the red clay cliffs jutting out into the sea, the sun low and heavy on the horizon. He is proud of his land, and it is evident he loves to share the beauty with others.

We walk back to his small house, which he is building on his own, and it is evident that he has an artistic eye. The landscaping is done with thought and the walkways are covered in patterns of beautiful mosaic tiles.

"I have all kinds of fruits growing here, would you like tangerines?"

We say yes, and he starts to pick tangerines from his tree.

"Life gives to you, you give to others. This is what life is about."

Soon, our arms are so overflowing that we have to tell him to stop. We stumble back down the hill to the hotels, our arms full and pockets stuffed with the sweet fruit.



Bananas riping in the sun

Thanksgiving Dinner

We've decided on this trip to eat away from hotels as much as possible, but this has proven to be very difficult. There just aren't many restaurants on the island. Most of the locals grow their own food, so it simply doesn't make economic sense to eat out (nor can many afford it). Also, many of the tourist-aimed restaurants only open when a large influx of tourists come in, either during the high season, or when a cruise ship tour stops by. Snackettes selling bbqed foods are common on roadsides but they are mostly for lunch and light snacks.

Our previous neighbor Ken had told us that the grocery store in town sometimes serves dinners. When go there, the owner tells us that the cook isn't there, and she needs a day's notice to procure the food. Tonight, we can try Mara's.

"Its a yellow building down the road. There's a sign on the front, but I don't know what it says."

Sure enough, we find the building. The sign is so weathered in the front, it is totally unreadable. It really doesn't matter to the people in the town, as they know where everything is anyhow.


Jenny and Cameron

Mara's place is a one-room building with just enough room for a counter, a card table with two computers in the back, and a few more tables for sitting. We give Mara a few hours notice to get food, and when we return for dinner, the place is full of local kids playing the Internet, an older American man (later discovered to be "Bicycle Bob"), and Cameron, Mara's two and a half year old son.

Cameron plays with us to the food arrives, and he's exceptionally smart. He sits on my lap and I show him how to use my camera, which he loves. The rest of our trip, when we see Cameron on the street, he cries out "Picture! Picture!"

Thanksgiving dinner is rice, beans, salad, some very starchy bananas, and "turkey". We still haven't figure out what this "turkey" actually is because there actually aren't any turkeys on the island, nor could we find evidence of turkey meat sold in any of the stores. Maybe we're better off not knowing.