These 50 United States have beautiful sandy beaches, crystal-clear, chattering mountain streams, and cities that rise to form twinkling outlines against the starry expanse of the night sky. But there comes a time when you leave America the Beautiful, and seek a little adventure beyond our home country. For me, my first time outside of America was going to the Bahamas. Almost without warning, I found myself mesmerized by the high seas: An endless, billowing sheet of ocean, meeting the silence of a glaring blue sky. Here, my adventures are written, hopefully to inspire you, too, to take to the warm adventure of the Caribbean seas when the weather up north gets frightful.

 

The Grand Vessel

The morning I first saw our boat, I slowed to a stop, suitcase in tow. Something told me that sailing in this enormous boat was going to be more like living in a mall on land. About the mall part, I was right, but about the ‘being on land’…well…it was distinctly different. I had never been on a boat this big, never been out of the United States, and never been out on the ocean for as long. I was about to set a lot of first records for myself.

Bon Voyage to the United States

 

We go through metal detectors; shove our suitcases through x-ray machines, get our pictures taken and have our passports scanned for good measure. It’s fun to use my passport, since this is my first time using one. We walk up the gang plank, find our way to our room, and then get our first taste of the ship’s cuisine for lunch. We eat as much as we can, then race to a deck to wave goodbye to the United States. The boat slowly pulls out of port. The Shoreline of the United States crawls by as the boat finds its way through the narrow, deep canal to the ocean; to freedom.

 

I suddenly find the land is slipping by too fast for me; the coast which I so desperately wanted to leave for adventure was now like a safe haven that I was leaving behind too rapidly.

 

For a moment, I wanted to run back to end of the canal and throw my arms around a palm tree. But looking at the vast ocean and smelling the salty tang in the breeze, I couldn’t help but smile. How could I miss out on an adventure like this? With my back towards the sea and my face towards the canal, I wave goodbye with a grin as the boat’s prow glides out of the canal, leaving the mainland, my home, and everything I knew with carefree attitudes; then we face the sea, as well as our new adventures.

 

A-maze-ing Halls and Doors with Magnets

This boat has resturaunts, swimming pools, lounges, librarys, gift shops, and theatres. But it’s almost night, and we don’t want to hit the resturant with sandles on. So we go to our room…again.

 

We head below deck, and it’s a different world; the doors are tiny and have magnets on the back to keep them from swining closed when you open them. The hallways are dimly lit and endless. My mom says the pictures on the walls of the hallways have anti-nausea affects, but with the crazy hallways down there, I think these maze-like paitings are coded maps that help you get around.

 

Like 20 Peas in a Pod

Just in case nobody has ever told you, rooms on a large boat are tiny. Everything is teeny, teeny tiny. Beds fold out from the wall, hanging over other beds, until it is a confused maze of crisscrossed sleepers. I didn’t have to worry about falling asleep, though. It was only minutes before the excitement of that day, the gentle rocking of the ship, and the prospect of the next day’s adventure lulled us all to sleep, like travelers in the belly of a whale that swam on through the night’s deep ocean as we dreamed.

Sandy Sandals and Limousines

 

What amazes me about the Bahamas is not the crystal blue waters, fragile, beautiful islands, or colorful culture; it is, rather, the stark difference in Nassau of social classes. Even though the whole island is riddled with the salty air of the Caribbean, Calypso music late at night, and endless boats of every imaginable size and shape lining the docks, one half is called home by the native inhabitants, with markets, families, and the colorful houses you’d expect to see in the islands. The other side, though, is overshadowed by a towering mansion of a hotel, where only the rich and famous dare to stay, and with the top room going for $2,000 a night and a full aquarium inside (when’s the last time you saw a stingray in a hotel?), you can understand why.

 

While we were there, limos were constantly coming in and out of the hotel. Lesser-known pop-stars (or maybe they were famous, but it beats me because I’m not into that!) and their entourages and super rich kids stepped out of exuberant limos, cameras flashing in their directions, body guards, and all. I guess it’s funny to think that just by going over a bridge you go from local to luxury.

 

But hey, welcome to Nassau!

 

Chatting with the Locals

One of the best things about visiting another country, as I learned on this trip, is meeting the locals; the Bahamas are, as is commonly known, no exception to this rule. As a matter of fact, the Bahamian people are just like you would expect: relaxed, laid-back, and very happy and easy to talk to. They’re hard workers, too, but they do everything with a cheerful smile and such a sure, easy motion that they seem as steady and carefree as the palm trees’ waving fronds on the island.

 

My brothers and I took particular interest in one young man we met in a market, selling colorful paintings of the island he had created. We talked about the differences between America and the Bahamas, and he cheerfully answered our endless volley of questions about the culture, politics, and his adventures on the Bahamian islands. We may never get to meet again, but the time we spent together, on a sunny Caribbean day in a local Nassau market, chatting to a man with my brothers, and his knowing smile, cheerful nature, and thick Bahamian accent will forever stay strong in my memory; and it will certainly last longer than a souvenir!

 

There’s a Barracuda in my Swimming Pool

Soon we got on a snorkel charter; we donned flippers and snorkels and hit the waves. It is certainly not a swimming pool; the waves are cold, choppy, and deep. I saw fish, jellyfish, and a young barracuda, just as I had seen them in aquariums. But none of them were behind glass, now. They were all swimming by me, with only the seawater in between!

 

Our Towel is an Elephant, and it’s Wearing Our Sunglasses

While we were out during the day, our room got cleaned and re-supplied with things like towels, one of which was usually folded in to an animal of some type on our bed. Once, we came back to find this, sporting a pair of sunglasses we had left out. Just goes to show that you never know what people on a boat will do if you leave your glasses out! :)

 

No Fruits Allowed

There are no fruits, nuts, plants, live roaches, orange ponies, seagulls, or dolphins allowed to be crammed into your suitcase or pockets when you come back. Basically, nothing that could possibly carry foreign contaminants passes the border. Why? Probably a few good reasons. But I can’t help but laugh with my brothers at the signs that prohibit you from entering America with any biological threat. So that means, if I come back with a pineapple, and I don’t toss em’, I’ll be locked out of the country with my pineapple friend. Needless to say, fruits coming back to America are toast. Weird, huh?

 

Welcome Back to the United States

If there is something that sparks more national love in the heart of an American that returning home to this country, I know not of it. I thought leaving the United States would be a stirring moment of patriotic grandeur; never did I think that coming home would be even better.

 

When we got off the boat, we had waited in a long line, and were, like the other passengers who awoke early that morning, groggily towing our suitcases behind us. As we approached the patrol woman, who was incessantly asking for proof of citizenship with a dull expression on her weary face, I knew how it felt, for the first time, to be on the outside, hoping to get in to a free and blessed country. When we got to the patrolwoman, not only did she quickly accept our passports in a swift examination, but she smiled for the first time, as she handed the last passport back. She was obviously glad we had those instead of the ship’s complicated forms.

 

“God bless you with your passports,” she said, a good-natured twinkle replacing her groggy stare for just a moment. The she nodded us as she let us in the Port Authority building. “Welcome back to America,” she said. That was the first time I had ever heard those words, and just like they did at the moments, they still ring in my heart to this day.

 

Getting Used to the Swing of Things (or the lack thereof)

 

The seas were very calm when we traveled. Balmy, turquoise waves lapped gently against the sides of our ship, making way for the silently gliding giant and its cargo. It may have been nothing like the 15 foot waves for Alaskan cruises, but the gentle, slow ricking of our boat eventually took its toll.

 

Once my feet hit land, I’d be walking on the steady ground, but then I’d keep losing my balance. It felt like I was still rocking. It took a few days of being land lubbers again to get used to the (lack of the) swing of things. But, even a week later, I’d often be in bed at night, and suddenly feel as if they whole house was rocking. Then I’d smile and close my eyes, remembering the ship and the ever rocking, gently rocking sea, and our adventure, which suddenly seemed so much closer, on the Caribbean waters.