Its 7am. We've had maybe 30 minutes of sleep. Doesn't matter. Its time to go out on a boat.
We rented a boat for the day and cruised the British Virgin Islands. I was nervous that they were going to give me a hard time about not having a passport and using my New York ID and birth certificate instead. They never even opened up the folded up copy of my birth certificate. They really have these islands on lockdown.
The trip started with a quick stop to the smallest island I've ever been to. It was crystal blue waters crashing on the whitest sand I've ever seen in my life. Think about a Corona commercial - now take all the other people away. This was it. There are times, and this was one of them, that you have to ask yourself if this is really your life. I sometimes feel like maybe my plane crashed and I just didn't realize it and now I'm in heaven.
The day was filled with speeding around from beach to beach trying to perfect our long distance drinking technique. That, for the record, is when you reach your beer out as far as you can in front of your face and try to pour it in your mouth, using the wind as its vehicle. Usually (read: always), it doesn't go so well.
For lunch, we stopped over at an anchored and converted pirate ship called Willy T's. We all did back flips off the top deck. I should say everyone else did back flips off the top deck - when I tried I only rotated about 7°. I think it would have set the record as the world's worst ever backflip, if only there had been an official around to score it.
The moral of the story for the boat ride is always wear sunscreen. I thought I knew this rule, but the following morning I was a glowing hot pink. I looked like the Kool-Aid man if instead of a spoon to mix him they used a bar of plutonium. I think Ella, the breakfast lady, put it best. In her thick island accent Friday morning, she said, "JA LOOK LIKA BOIL LOBSTA!"
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