Coralita is a shallow shelf wedged between two rocks where the Atlantic surf spreads out in long, flat waves across a bed of sea urchins. Calvin, the self-proclaimed "Sea Urchin Man," presides over the beach, where he's gathered a small collection of live animals (conchs, sea urchins, sea stars) and set up a series of cairn-like mounds of shells and coral. Presumably this is art.
We waded out to Seashell Island, which is a hunk of raised reef a stone's throw from the beach.
Jade, a bit tentative at first, gathered dozens of shells. I'm not sure where we'll store these on Dafne and won't be surprised if I find them in my closet, or worse.
The shallows in this bay are a favorite of kite surfers. They love to jump the spit of sand where we tried to snorkel.
Stella was in heaven. She loves stuff like this: exploring new places, challenging herself. She ran ahead and tried wading out to a further rock, but retreated when a small shark crossed her path.
Lunch happened at a roadside BBQ joint serving "rice and peas" and various grilled meats. The girls had never had "rice and peas" before, and were, of course, amusingly surprised when rice and beans arrive. The ribs were great (no surprise), but Jade's chicken ruled (surprise). Afterwards they let Stella take a turn in the "kitchen."
After a quick stop at Le Grand Marche in Philipsburg—ok, not quick; nothing ever is on Sint Maarten—we arrived at Buccaneer Beach, a thin strip of clean sand wrapping Simpson Bay, so called by the beach bar that serves $2 beers to all the cruisers and hosts movie night on the beach on Fridays. This was Stella's choice; and our first cruising friends, Jane and Erwin and their daughters Sofia and Isabelle, joined us. After a few hours of snorkeling, epic turns of Marco Polo, and jumping off the pier—most of which I napped through (life is tough)—we retreated to burgers and salads at the Buccaneer Bar.
And, of course, our double chocolate cake from Le Grand Marche. A perfect end to a perfect day in the islands. Happy birthday Stella.
After a quick stop at Le Grand Marche in Philipsburg—ok, not quick; nothing ever is on Sint Maarten—we arrived at Buccaneer Beach, a thin strip of clean sand wrapping Simpson Bay, so called by the beach bar that serves $2 beers to all the cruisers and hosts movie night on the beach on Fridays. This was Stella's choice; and our first cruising friends, Jane and Erwin and their daughters Sofia and Isabelle, joined us. After a few hours of snorkeling, epic turns of Marco Polo, and jumping off the pier—most of which I napped through (life is tough)—we retreated to burgers and salads at the Buccaneer Bar.
And, of course, our double chocolate cake from Le Grand Marche. A perfect end to a perfect day in the islands. Happy birthday Stella.
2 comments:
Woo-hoo! Happy birthday, Stella! I loved seeing all these pictures. Looks like Stella's got that grill under control. :)
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