Today was the perfect kind of sea day: warm, calm, and designed entirely around doing whatever we want without leaving the ship. Morning temps hovered around 80–81°, the air felt like a warm hug, and the ocean looked like blue satin stretched to the horizon.
The "Healthy on a Cruise Ship" Trilogy
We kicked things off with room service again, because coffee on the balcony while watching the sea is now a non-negotiable part of my identity. Then I powered through my sacred trifecta: thirty minutes of meditation, thirty minutes walking laps on deck, thirty minutes of strength training. I am basically one workout away from starting a wellness cult.
During the walk I attempted to manifest sea turtles, but alas — the universe delivered only their images, printed on strangers' T-shirts. 🐢
The campaign begins in earnest. The goal is simple: see a real, live sea turtle before this voyage ends. The universe, so far, is offering only representations — turtles on shirts, turtles on magnets, the idea of turtles. The naturalist remains unsatisfied. The manifestation engine is warming up. (File this thread away. It pays off later, and not where you'd expect.)
The ABC Islands (In Correct Order This Time)
We attended a talk on the ABC Islands and learned a ton — some inspiring, some heavy. The correct order of our journey: Curaçao first, then Bonaire, then Aruba. All three share deep ties to Dutch colonial history, including some very dark chapters, especially related to the slave trade. Not easy to hear, but important to remember.
Curaçao — famed for its harbor and bright Dutch-colonial houses painted in hues unknown to the sober palettes of old Europe. Colorful buildings, amazing food, and a liqueur with questionable pronunciation.
Bonaire — a divers' paradise, its reefs regarded as near-peerless, ringed by flamingos and cactus.
Aruba — turquoise water, casinos, and trade winds strong enough to style your hair for you.
All three sit in the South American dry belt, in the rain shadow of Venezuela — which is why these "Caribbean" islands look more like Arizona with a beach.
Social Hour & Excursion Scheming
We met up with the couple from our dolphin adventure again. They're from Houston (via Michigan), and his suite is paid for thanks to previous casino exploits. He reminds me of Vince Vaughn — but like if Vince Vaughn talked more about slot machines. After a few beers we nailed down our plan: a sailing-and-snorkeling trip in Bonaire on a sleek electric catamaran. Silent, smooth, eco-friendly — basically the Prius of the ocean.
Ocean Watching & the Plastic Problem
We sat out on the deck for a while just watching the sea roll by. Saw some sea grass. Saw some plastic fragments. Not great. I recently read that over a million plastic bottles are produced every minute, which suddenly feels way too believable when you see bottle caps drifting past your cruise ship window. Protect the turtles. Protect the vibes.
Dinner at Tamarind: Absolutely Elite
Dinner at Tamarind was ridiculously good — easily one of the best meals of the trip. Perfect flavors, perfect pacing. We could not shut up about it the entire walk back. Afterward we headed out onto the deck, where the almost-full moon glowed over the ocean like a spotlight designed just for us. Warm air, gentle breeze, shimmering water. One of those "file this under core memory" kinds of moments. 🌕
And now — the same day, set down in an older hand
At the break of dawn the vessel continued steadily along her intended course, bound for Curaçao, the first of the so-called ABC Islands which lie under Dutch administration. The air was soft and warm, the sky mostly free of clouds, and the sea in so kindly a temper that even the lightest craft might traverse it without concern.
We summoned the morning meal to our quarters and took our coffee while observing the sea's expanse from the balcony, the horizon glowing faintly with the first light. Thereafter we engaged in the customary regimen for the preservation of health: half an hour of quiet reflection, half an hour walking the upper deck, and half an hour devoted to the strengthening of the limbs — which together make for a well-ordered beginning to any day upon the water.
During my perambulation of the deck I endeavored to locate one of the noble sea turtles, yet none presented themselves. Only their likenesses — painted upon the garments of passing passengers — were observed. Though curious, such representations do not satisfy the naturalist's desire for the genuine article.
On the Society of Passengers
In the afternoon we shared ale with a couple previously encountered upon our dolphin excursion. The gentleman, originally of Michigan and now settled in Houston, occupies his quarters as a boon from past gaming at the casino. His manner and bearing bring to mind a certain actor of renown, one Vince Vaughn, though this comparison exists solely in spirit.
Observations Upon the Sea
From our balcony we beheld the ocean in a most pleasant state, with small patches of sea grass drifting past. Regrettably, fragments of plastic refuse were also seen upon the water — a disquieting sight. I reflected upon recent accounts that vast multitudes of plastic bottles are produced each minute the world over, a practice which, if continued unchecked, shall prove most harmful to the creatures of the sea.
Evening Meal & a Moonlit Watch
As twilight descended, we dined at Tamarind, the ship's eastern-inspired establishment, whose dishes are of a refinement that would not be out of place at any fine table in Europe or Asia. Later, stepping out onto the open deck, we beheld the nearly full moon rising in great splendor over the wide sea, its silvered light dancing upon the water in long rippling lines. The wind was soft, the sea gentle, and for a time we stood in quiet contemplation of the scene. Now we retire to rest, with the ship proceeding steadily toward Curaçao, where new observations await on the morrow.