Today is the last day on the sailboat and we all have different agendas. Jason wants to snorkel, Aaron and I, being the most landlubbery, want to hike, Isaac, being the most read-y, wants to read. So we all went in our separate directions. Aaron wants to make it to the top of the mountain so we set out on the same trail as the night before with the plan to continue past where we had stopped. Along the way we saw a tropical tree with yucca-like plants growing out of its branches, lizards, hummingbirds, and finally the big view. Meanwhile Jason, sneakily snorkeling so as not to run into his adoring jellyfish fans, saw a Southern Stingray. As for Isaac, I am not sure what happened in his book while we were gone, but I was delighted when we was captaining the dinghy when Aaron and I were picked up from the beach. He officially bears the title of Dinghy Captain now, as he can start and stop the engine, drive both forwards and backwards, steer the dinghy accurately, and dock it. Congratulations, we are proud of you.
Time to head to Cruz Bay. After loading all of our backpacks into the dinghy, we headed to land where we checked back in with U.S. officials and parted ways with Captain Bob and Debbie. After grabbing a quick lunch in town, we caught a shuttle to the Westin Resort, the only place on the island that would allow Pika. The Westin was very nice, but also very different from what we normally opt for. It was very resorty, definitely where all the Americans were staying. It was a different experience than the rundown villages we were driving through in the BVI's, a little bit of a shock to system really. Oh well. Anyway, we spent the afternoon catching up on some rest and....showering. The Captain, not realizing that we were not his normal clientele, made the mistake of sending an email letting us know that we should relax, not worry about electric shavers or blowdryers (luckily we don't own any), or a fresh pair of clothes everyday. He didn't know who he was talking to (we can go for weeks in the desert without a shower) and I think that by the end of the trip they were secretly desperate for us to take a shower. Our attitudes were, hey, who needs a shower when you are swimming in the ocean everyday, even though I can't get my hands through my almost dreadlocked curls. I think they may have been grossed out and kept saying things like, "don't you want to soap up?" after we would climb out of the ocean. Nope, we're good. He'll think twice before he sends an email like that again.
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