Oct 11, 2009
Let it be known that Ocean Star’s crew of 13 were rationed time, or as we call it sand, to explore an island in the Cays. A gather of shipmates set out to circumnavigate the primeval patch of shaped rock, and what could be more horrifying then what they encountered. Mortified were their faces after a precarious climb around a most foreboding reach when they came upon a gather of sorts. This was no typical island situation; it was foreign in texture; large grazing animals basking on a tropical paradise. It was the stench of lotion that caused the first of many convulsions. The Island was over run with tourists. They chugged cold sodas, ate copious amounts of finger food, and then left like a mid-sea squall. How strange to see other humans.