Our air conditioner is broken. It stopped working at about 6:00 last night, and by 7:00 it was 80 degrees in our house. Someday I will blog about this, and it will be funny. I'll crack jokes about how John tried to "walk me through" fixing the air conditioner while I held the phone between my shoulder and ear, but the sweat kept making it slip which didn't matter because I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about anyway. I'll write something witty - and maybe poignant? - about my best friend, Michelle, and that we stayed at her house instead of sweating it out in ours. Maybe I'll relate a cute story about how excited the girls were to have a "sleepover" even though their friends were already asleep when we got there.
Not yet, though. Right now I'm hot. I'm irritated at the a/c repair company for showing up late (though they're not late yet) and at John for not knowing intuitively how to fix the a/c himself and at myself for trying to write a DAILY blog when, clearly, some days I am meant to be silent.
Someday this is going to be funny. Today is not that day.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Man Overboard (Adventure Revisited)
In the quest for the daily blog entry, and in order to avoid mentioning poop again (which seemed to have troubled so very many of you), I am using past adventures. Here's one from my pre-teen years. Enjoy - and know that I've already been through therapy for this stuff. "That which does not kill me makes me stronger. That which does not kill me makes me stronger. That which does not ..."
When I was nine years old, my Miami family started sailing together. My Miami family includes my father Manny, my step-mother Billie, my step-sister Robynn and my step-brother Joe. I am considering creating an organizational chart for my family, so look for that in the weeks to come.
I have many, many sailing stories to share. Most include Robynn retching frequently (she becomes violently ill when she even thinks about water). But we took one or two extended trips a year anyway, because, well, two out of three healthy children is pretty good, right?
During each trip, in order to be prepared for anything, my father would run "man overboard drills."
The craziest thing about these drills - and it scares me more to think of it now than it scared me to do it then - was that it wasn't really a drill at all. There were no practice runs with a bouy. Safety measures and back-up plans were never discussed, nor even considered. We did not wear life preservers. It wasn't a "man overboard drill." It was a "child overboard emergency."
My father chose the overboard-er by process of elimination. He had to stay on the boat to steer. Billie couldn't go in because her help was needed in rescuing the child from the water. Joe stayed aboard because he was so little, being four years younger than us girls. Robynn and I took turns being the "man overboard" for those first few summers.
One of us would jump over the side and into the water. Someone remaining on the boat was instructed to do nothing more than keep their eyes on the person in the water. The small rubber dinghy was untied and set free, and the "man overboard" would swim to it and climb inside. My father would navigate back and Billie would retrieve the dinghy and bring the soaking wet, exhausted child on board.
I vividly remember treading water, watching the boat move away, trying desperately not to think of Jaws (which had come out only a few years before) and hoping that my siblings were doing a good job of keeping an eye on me.
A few years later, when he was nine years old, it was Joe's turn. I am happy to report he was rescued intact, but it was too dangerous to do it again. Not dangerous to Joe, but to those of us left onboard with his mother. Billie freaked out as soon as Joe's toes hit the waves. She tried to do everything at once - keep her eyes on Joe, untie the dinghy and steer the ship. At the same time, she screamed at US to keep our eyes on Joe, untie the dinghy and steer the ship - and to do it "Faster! Faster!" We couldn't figure out why she was so insane. After all, she never lost it when Robynn or I went over. And if she was so concerned for his safety, she could have not let him jump into the water in the first place. Robynn, my father and I survived with only minor scrapes and bruises but it wasn't worth the risk to attempt another "Joe everboard."
Billie eventually overboarded too, as we kids grew older. As the years passed, we really did have this thing down.
Then it was my father's turn. Billie was nervous but my brother and sister and I were thrilled. My father jumped off the boat - and landed smack on the back of a shark. Well, that's what he claimed, anyway. No one ever believes this story (even if they don't know that my father was honesty-challenged), and I'm not sure if I believe it either. But consider this: He swam to the dinghy faster than I'd ever seen him move in his life, on land or at sea. He barely even got wet. When we pulled the sailboat alongside him, he was visibly shaken. Without a doubt, something scared him silly. Maybe it was swimming in the open ocean, watching his family sail away, but I had been doing that for years, and I was just a kid. Or maybe he really did jump on a shark. I don't know.
But I do know this: we never had another "man overboard drill" again.
When I was nine years old, my Miami family started sailing together. My Miami family includes my father Manny, my step-mother Billie, my step-sister Robynn and my step-brother Joe. I am considering creating an organizational chart for my family, so look for that in the weeks to come.
I have many, many sailing stories to share. Most include Robynn retching frequently (she becomes violently ill when she even thinks about water). But we took one or two extended trips a year anyway, because, well, two out of three healthy children is pretty good, right?
During each trip, in order to be prepared for anything, my father would run "man overboard drills."
The craziest thing about these drills - and it scares me more to think of it now than it scared me to do it then - was that it wasn't really a drill at all. There were no practice runs with a bouy. Safety measures and back-up plans were never discussed, nor even considered. We did not wear life preservers. It wasn't a "man overboard drill." It was a "child overboard emergency."
My father chose the overboard-er by process of elimination. He had to stay on the boat to steer. Billie couldn't go in because her help was needed in rescuing the child from the water. Joe stayed aboard because he was so little, being four years younger than us girls. Robynn and I took turns being the "man overboard" for those first few summers.
One of us would jump over the side and into the water. Someone remaining on the boat was instructed to do nothing more than keep their eyes on the person in the water. The small rubber dinghy was untied and set free, and the "man overboard" would swim to it and climb inside. My father would navigate back and Billie would retrieve the dinghy and bring the soaking wet, exhausted child on board.
I vividly remember treading water, watching the boat move away, trying desperately not to think of Jaws (which had come out only a few years before) and hoping that my siblings were doing a good job of keeping an eye on me.
A few years later, when he was nine years old, it was Joe's turn. I am happy to report he was rescued intact, but it was too dangerous to do it again. Not dangerous to Joe, but to those of us left onboard with his mother. Billie freaked out as soon as Joe's toes hit the waves. She tried to do everything at once - keep her eyes on Joe, untie the dinghy and steer the ship. At the same time, she screamed at US to keep our eyes on Joe, untie the dinghy and steer the ship - and to do it "Faster! Faster!" We couldn't figure out why she was so insane. After all, she never lost it when Robynn or I went over. And if she was so concerned for his safety, she could have not let him jump into the water in the first place. Robynn, my father and I survived with only minor scrapes and bruises but it wasn't worth the risk to attempt another "Joe everboard."
Billie eventually overboarded too, as we kids grew older. As the years passed, we really did have this thing down.
Then it was my father's turn. Billie was nervous but my brother and sister and I were thrilled. My father jumped off the boat - and landed smack on the back of a shark. Well, that's what he claimed, anyway. No one ever believes this story (even if they don't know that my father was honesty-challenged), and I'm not sure if I believe it either. But consider this: He swam to the dinghy faster than I'd ever seen him move in his life, on land or at sea. He barely even got wet. When we pulled the sailboat alongside him, he was visibly shaken. Without a doubt, something scared him silly. Maybe it was swimming in the open ocean, watching his family sail away, but I had been doing that for years, and I was just a kid. Or maybe he really did jump on a shark. I don't know.
But I do know this: we never had another "man overboard drill" again.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Kindergarten Quote: The Knight
A volunteer dad came to the classroom to teach the students about chess. The kids learned that chess is not a game – it’s a war! Each warrior has a name and its own special strategy. The Rooks, for instance, always move in a straight line. The Pawns are small, but they are mighty and there are eight of them. The Queen can move in any direction she wants! The war is won or lost when a King is won or lost. Attack and defend! We all sat on the edge of our seats. (Figuratively speaking, of course. It’s Kindergarten and we all sit on the floor).
Some students were particularly fascinated by the order, the rules of the game. Others, (boys, I’m sure) appreciated the implied violence. Maybe a couple weren’t paying attention. Regardless! The kids loved the lesson and were excited about what they had learned.
At the end of the lesson, Mr. Dad picked up each piece in turn and asked, “What’s this piece called?” The students would shout “Rook!” or “Bishop!” When asked, “And how does it move?” the students called out “Straight!” or “Crossways!” (“Crossways” is Kindergarten for “Diagonal” and considered correct.)
When the Knight was raised high, the kids knew the name instantly! That’s their favorite! “Knight!” they shouted in unison. Mr. Dad asked, “And how does it move?”
Silence. Not a hand raised, not a guess ventured.
“Anyone? The Knight?”
Nothing.
“The Knight. How does it move?”
Finally, a tentative voice in the back answered:
“Because he has a horse?”
Some students were particularly fascinated by the order, the rules of the game. Others, (boys, I’m sure) appreciated the implied violence. Maybe a couple weren’t paying attention. Regardless! The kids loved the lesson and were excited about what they had learned.
At the end of the lesson, Mr. Dad picked up each piece in turn and asked, “What’s this piece called?” The students would shout “Rook!” or “Bishop!” When asked, “And how does it move?” the students called out “Straight!” or “Crossways!” (“Crossways” is Kindergarten for “Diagonal” and considered correct.)
When the Knight was raised high, the kids knew the name instantly! That’s their favorite! “Knight!” they shouted in unison. Mr. Dad asked, “And how does it move?”
Silence. Not a hand raised, not a guess ventured.
“Anyone? The Knight?”
Nothing.
“The Knight. How does it move?”
Finally, a tentative voice in the back answered:
“Because he has a horse?”
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
A Daily Blog? Daily?
A daily blog? It makes sense. I wouldn’t have to email everyone each time I post an entry.
A daily blog? Potentially boring. While my family does have awesome adventures, sometimes we just stay in pajamas and do nothing all day. That’s cute – once. Each subsequent time, it’s just boring. Eventually, the frequency becomes embarrassing. Worse, we do occasionally have a terrible day and, while that may be interesting, I just want to go to sleep at the end of terrible days. I really don’t want to write it all down and post it for everyone (the six people who read this blog) to see.
I must also consider that I don’t really do anything else daily. Well, I do basic survival maintenance: eat, sleep, pee. Other than that, I have a list of things I’d LIKE to do daily, but don’t.
- Eat dinner – that I have cooked - with the whole family at the table. This is part of my “SuperMom” fantasy. The reality is that I only cook on the nights that I have remembered to thaw the meat, arrived home before 4:30, managed to stop at the store for that one essential ingredient, slept well the night before and therefore am well rested and – here’s the big obstacle – already washed yesterday's dinner dishes. This amazing convergence of circumstances is rare.
- Shower. When I shower, I want to wash and condition my hair. With the leave-in conditioner that actually works. I want to shave everything. I want to exfoliate my face and scrub my feet. This takes half an hour! In the morning I’d rather sleep. At night I’d rather read. Don’t be grossed out. I DO shower. Just not daily.
- Poop. This was not on my list a few years ago. I used to never pay any attention to poop. Then I had kids and was completely consumed with concern for their bowel health. Once they had the whole #2 thing down, I started noticing the complete lack of regularity of my own bowels. Discomfort! Odd noises! How many carrots did I eat!?!? Now, at the end of the day, I count a normal BM – if I’ve had one - among my blessings, along with my beautiful children and handsome husband.
- Exercise. Just kidding! It would be nice to want to exercise daily. I know that I should exercise daily. But I don’t actually want to exercise daily. I want to exercise never.
If I commit to a daily blog, then showering, exercising and family dinners are slightly less likely to occur. And I don’t think blogging effects digestion.
If I don’t do the blog daily, then nobody (you six) will ever remember the website address, and I will have to alert you each time I update. But I guess that wouldn’t be the end of the world.
Any suggestions? Add a comment below.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Manatee Adventure July 10, 2009
Every summer, we hold "Camp Lynch" at our house. Only my mother "Gramma Mary Apple" (GMA), and my step-nephew Augie are invited. Augie is the son of Martha, who is the daughter of Steve, who is married to my mother. Got it? Probably not, but that's okay. My family tree is an orchard. All you really need to know is that Augie is an all-around great kid, very smart, infinitely likable and, most important, a laid-back and forgiving sort of guy. Augie has suffered through many uncomfortable or embarrassing Camp Lynch episodes, including (and this is a very abbreviated list), jumping flat out onto a deflated air mattress, missing a ride on the big roller coasters because no one else was tall enough to ride and having to speak to his mother on GMA's cell phone which, when it rang, GMA was carrying IN HER BRA. Augie is, in short, perfect for Camp Lynch.
I am the Camp Lynch guide. Every year I put together a list of cool things to do in and around Tampa and I introduce the options to the campers. This year's must-do activity was a swim with the manatees. The plans were that we would spend the night in a Crystal River hotel, near the manatee dive site because: manatees are most active early in the morning and, therefore, manatee tours begin at 7 am, but you have to be there at 6:30 to get ready, which means we would have had to wake up at 4:30 am, had we not spent the night in Crystal River.
It was at this point (the night before the dive) that my husband, John, joined Camp Lynch. I mention this because John NEVER joins Camp Lynch because he is always so busy doing the fundraising for Camp Lynch (read: working).
Tip #1: Stay at the King's Bay Lodge. It isn't at all fancy, nor completely mildew-free, but it IS just a block from the tour location and the boat leaves from the King's Bay Lodge dock. We didn't stay there. We stayed at a major chain hotel where John had an allergic reaction to the smoke in the lobby when he checked us is in. The bar is, unfortunately, adjacent to the check-in desk. But the King's Bay Lodge is quaint, by which I mean tiny and a little run-down. But it is certainly closer, less smoky and probably more quaint - by any definition.
When we arrived at Manatee Tour and Dive we watched a video about manatee and habitat conservation. In the shop we discovered that we would be the only people on that morning's manatee tour and I felt a little proud of my planning skills that I had found a manatee swim outfitter that was offering a deep discount AND offered, essentially, a private tour.
Tip #2: Leave body image issues at home - you have to wear a wetsuit. Wetsuits really don't look good on any adult. Even if you have a great body, you can't tell when you're wearing a wetsuit. If your body is less-than-perfect, a wetsuit serves to accentuate the negative. You can opt not to wear a wetsuit, but King's Bay is a spring-fed 72 degrees Fahrenheit year-round and hypothermia is even less attractive than a wetsuit. So fight, tug, grunt and shimmy yourself into it happily and insist that all photos be taken of children and manatees only. By the way, children are incredibly adorable in wetsuits (see photo, left).
Once in our wetsuits, we walked down to the dock and met our captain, Doreen. Doreen is awesome. She's good with boats, manatees and kids. We are so glad she was our tour guide, especially after meeting a tour guide from another dive outfitter - but more on that later. Doreen motored us out but we didn't see any manatees, so she took us into the bay where we also found no manatees. We found no manatees as storm clouds moved in and we heard the low rumbles of thunder. For an hour. No manatees.
And then - alas! Another tour boat! Flying their dive flags! Lots of people getting in the water! We scrambled into masks, snorkels and fins as Doreen brought us closer to the site. Doreen dropped anchor and in we went. This was it! Except, it wasn't. The water was murky. Manatees are a murky gray color. I was only inches away from a manatee and could only see it because it had bright white scars on its back. Basically, I saw moving murkiness with white stripes. Of course, the moving murk was very, very large. I was nervous and reached out to touch it quickly, and yanked my hand back immediately. It felt... murky.
It swam away and I began to make my way back to the boat when I heard, to my alarm, the tour guide (Mike) from the other boat yelling at my kids. "Stop splashing!" "Be silent!" "Keep your feet at the surface!" "You're going to scare them away!" Of course, the kids didn't hear him. They were snorkeling and could only hear the sound of their breathing through the snorkel. I could hear him, though, as he went on to explain to his group that "these kids" were doing the exact opposite of what they should be doing if they wanted to see manatees. He loudly pointed out all their errors to the other tourists. He told the story of the "best kids" he'd ever taken on a tour and how they did exactly as they were told because they had a "very strict" Troup Leader. Just makes you want to run out and sign your kids up for the Boy Scouts, doesn't it?
The manatees had moved on, perhaps due to my clamorous, thrashing children, but Mike kept up his chatter. I'd had enough. As I swam back to Doreen's boat, where John and Brooks were swimming nearby, I called to the kids, "Alright, Maddie! Augie! Go back to the boat, we're upsetting the driver of the other boat." Mike said something like, "I was just saying they should.." Whatever. Then I said, "Yeah, I hear you cracking on my kids." I said it LOUD. Ha! I spoke up! It was great! Doreen was proud of me, too.
Here is more evidence of the awesomeness of Doreen: She never checked a clock. She let us swim with that baby manatee until it moved away with its mom and she didn't let us know - didn't even hint - that our time was up. And even though it WAS up, she still took us to the springs to swim and play some more.
On the way to the springs (Three Sisters Springs), Doreen explained that if we had come during the winter months, we would have seen all the manatees together in one place - at the springs. As it turns out, my planning was simply a result of having booked in the summer time, or manatee off-season. And the 50% off kids discount is year-round. And our tour was private because everyone else knows about manatee season. I didn't mind being humbled, though. I was too busy feeling blessed.
Once Doreen set the anchor at Three Sisters, we splashed in as loudly as we could and set off. The path to the springs is through a little creek, maybe eight feet deep and just as wide, with trees overhanging it. The water is perfectly clear. This is where Brooks blossomed as a snorkeler. She just needed to be able to see in the water and once she realized she could, she took off like a mermaid.
At the end of the canopied water path, the springs widen and we swam in the sunlight and looked down into the spring. Maddie and Augie removed their snorkel gear and were just swimming and playing in the water. Brooks was (finally!) loving snorkeling and we all felt we had found the most beautiful place on earth.
We swam back to the boat - with Brooks in the lead - and raced (at idle speed, of course) back to the dock so Doreen could pick up her next tour group.
Tip #3: Across the street from Manatee Tour and Dive is the Crystal Paradise Restaurant. Almost every business in Crystal River has the word "crystal" in its name. We were, however, unable to find the logic behind the word "paradise" in the restaurant's name. The waitresses are not friendly. And if you want to make a substitution on a menu item, they'll do it, but they'll charge you for both entrees. The food is good, though, and they serve breakfast all day. If you have just finished swimming with a baby manatee for half an hour and played in a "crystal river" then you won't even notice a little surliness and the whole day is a lot like paradise.
I am the Camp Lynch guide. Every year I put together a list of cool things to do in and around Tampa and I introduce the options to the campers. This year's must-do activity was a swim with the manatees. The plans were that we would spend the night in a Crystal River hotel, near the manatee dive site because: manatees are most active early in the morning and, therefore, manatee tours begin at 7 am, but you have to be there at 6:30 to get ready, which means we would have had to wake up at 4:30 am, had we not spent the night in Crystal River.It was at this point (the night before the dive) that my husband, John, joined Camp Lynch. I mention this because John NEVER joins Camp Lynch because he is always so busy doing the fundraising for Camp Lynch (read: working).
Tip #1: Stay at the King's Bay Lodge. It isn't at all fancy, nor completely mildew-free, but it IS just a block from the tour location and the boat leaves from the King's Bay Lodge dock. We didn't stay there. We stayed at a major chain hotel where John had an allergic reaction to the smoke in the lobby when he checked us is in. The bar is, unfortunately, adjacent to the check-in desk. But the King's Bay Lodge is quaint, by which I mean tiny and a little run-down. But it is certainly closer, less smoky and probably more quaint - by any definition.
When we arrived at Manatee Tour and Dive we watched a video about manatee and habitat conservation. In the shop we discovered that we would be the only people on that morning's manatee tour and I felt a little proud of my planning skills that I had found a manatee swim outfitter that was offering a deep discount AND offered, essentially, a private tour.
Tip #2: Leave body image issues at home - you have to wear a wetsuit. Wetsuits really don't look good on any adult. Even if you have a great body, you can't tell when you're wearing a wetsuit. If your body is less-than-perfect, a wetsuit serves to accentuate the negative. You can opt not to wear a wetsuit, but King's Bay is a spring-fed 72 degrees Fahrenheit year-round and hypothermia is even less attractive than a wetsuit. So fight, tug, grunt and shimmy yourself into it happily and insist that all photos be taken of children and manatees only. By the way, children are incredibly adorable in wetsuits (see photo, left).Once in our wetsuits, we walked down to the dock and met our captain, Doreen. Doreen is awesome. She's good with boats, manatees and kids. We are so glad she was our tour guide, especially after meeting a tour guide from another dive outfitter - but more on that later. Doreen motored us out but we didn't see any manatees, so she took us into the bay where we also found no manatees. We found no manatees as storm clouds moved in and we heard the low rumbles of thunder. For an hour. No manatees.
And then - alas! Another tour boat! Flying their dive flags! Lots of people getting in the water! We scrambled into masks, snorkels and fins as Doreen brought us closer to the site. Doreen dropped anchor and in we went. This was it! Except, it wasn't. The water was murky. Manatees are a murky gray color. I was only inches away from a manatee and could only see it because it had bright white scars on its back. Basically, I saw moving murkiness with white stripes. Of course, the moving murk was very, very large. I was nervous and reached out to touch it quickly, and yanked my hand back immediately. It felt... murky.
It swam away and I began to make my way back to the boat when I heard, to my alarm, the tour guide (Mike) from the other boat yelling at my kids. "Stop splashing!" "Be silent!" "Keep your feet at the surface!" "You're going to scare them away!" Of course, the kids didn't hear him. They were snorkeling and could only hear the sound of their breathing through the snorkel. I could hear him, though, as he went on to explain to his group that "these kids" were doing the exact opposite of what they should be doing if they wanted to see manatees. He loudly pointed out all their errors to the other tourists. He told the story of the "best kids" he'd ever taken on a tour and how they did exactly as they were told because they had a "very strict" Troup Leader. Just makes you want to run out and sign your kids up for the Boy Scouts, doesn't it?
The manatees had moved on, perhaps due to my clamorous, thrashing children, but Mike kept up his chatter. I'd had enough. As I swam back to Doreen's boat, where John and Brooks were swimming nearby, I called to the kids, "Alright, Maddie! Augie! Go back to the boat, we're upsetting the driver of the other boat." Mike said something like, "I was just saying they should.." Whatever. Then I said, "Yeah, I hear you cracking on my kids." I said it LOUD. Ha! I spoke up! It was great! Doreen was proud of me, too.
Once the kids and I were back on board, Mike started up again. "Look at that little boy with yellow fins! He's doing it just right! There's a manatee next to that little boy with yellow fins!" And do you know who that "little boy" was? It was my mother! (photo, right) "Ha" again! I might have manatee-repellent children, but I can tell the difference between a little boy and an old lady. Ha!
When we were all back on the boat, Doreen pulled up anchor and we went in search of more manatees to scare, er, swim with. One thing we did learn during that first manatee encounter, was that Brooks did not - under any circumstances - want to be in the water with manatees. This was a little disappointing for the adults. We really wanted her to have the awesome (albeit murky) experience. Maddie siezed the passive-aggressive opportunity to one-up her sister for the rest of the day: "Brooks, why didn't you swim with the manatees? It wasn't scary. It was really fun and easy." Brooks was not at all upset or disappointed. She wasn't conflicted. She was very, very happy to watch from the boat.
A confession: I thought, maybe , we HAD scared those manatees away, and I felt a little twinge of guilt. The other group was there first. And yes, maybe Mike was the kind of guy who deserved to have his manatees spooked, but those people on his tour didn't deserve it and... well, I just decided not to think about it. As Doreen kept up the search for more manatees, we all ate snacks and I tried not to feel too bad about the frightened manatees, nor too good about talking back to Mike. (Ha!)
Doreen used the radio to speak to a boat captain friend of hers (Carol), who encouraged us that we were heading to a great spot - and she was right! Doreen spotted manatees, dropped anchor, and we all (except Brooks) got in the water. Actually, we splashed in. While jabbering excitedly. We were going to swim with a baby manatee! It occurred to me that it would be impossible for Maddie and Augie - especially Maddie and Augie - to swim near a manatee in any calm sort of way. What we learned is this: This baby manatee LOVED loud, boisterous children. She stayed close to us, even following Maddie and Augie around in the water. She swam up to our boat, put her face right up to Augie's face, placed her flipper in Maddie's hand and she tickled my ankle with her whiskers, too. Mom manatee ignored us, choosing to eat water plants nearby. When Mom eventually moved away, baby followed, and we did, too. We spent about 25 minutes with this sweet baby manatee. And Doreen swam with us, which is how we know she (the manatee) was a girl.
A confession: I thought, maybe , we HAD scared those manatees away, and I felt a little twinge of guilt. The other group was there first. And yes, maybe Mike was the kind of guy who deserved to have his manatees spooked, but those people on his tour didn't deserve it and... well, I just decided not to think about it. As Doreen kept up the search for more manatees, we all ate snacks and I tried not to feel too bad about the frightened manatees, nor too good about talking back to Mike. (Ha!)
Doreen used the radio to speak to a boat captain friend of hers (Carol), who encouraged us that we were heading to a great spot - and she was right! Doreen spotted manatees, dropped anchor, and we all (except Brooks) got in the water. Actually, we splashed in. While jabbering excitedly. We were going to swim with a baby manatee! It occurred to me that it would be impossible for Maddie and Augie - especially Maddie and Augie - to swim near a manatee in any calm sort of way. What we learned is this: This baby manatee LOVED loud, boisterous children. She stayed close to us, even following Maddie and Augie around in the water. She swam up to our boat, put her face right up to Augie's face, placed her flipper in Maddie's hand and she tickled my ankle with her whiskers, too. Mom manatee ignored us, choosing to eat water plants nearby. When Mom eventually moved away, baby followed, and we did, too. We spent about 25 minutes with this sweet baby manatee. And Doreen swam with us, which is how we know she (the manatee) was a girl.
Here is more evidence of the awesomeness of Doreen: She never checked a clock. She let us swim with that baby manatee until it moved away with its mom and she didn't let us know - didn't even hint - that our time was up. And even though it WAS up, she still took us to the springs to swim and play some more.On the way to the springs (Three Sisters Springs), Doreen explained that if we had come during the winter months, we would have seen all the manatees together in one place - at the springs. As it turns out, my planning was simply a result of having booked in the summer time, or manatee off-season. And the 50% off kids discount is year-round. And our tour was private because everyone else knows about manatee season. I didn't mind being humbled, though. I was too busy feeling blessed.
Once Doreen set the anchor at Three Sisters, we splashed in as loudly as we could and set off. The path to the springs is through a little creek, maybe eight feet deep and just as wide, with trees overhanging it. The water is perfectly clear. This is where Brooks blossomed as a snorkeler. She just needed to be able to see in the water and once she realized she could, she took off like a mermaid.
At the end of the canopied water path, the springs widen and we swam in the sunlight and looked down into the spring. Maddie and Augie removed their snorkel gear and were just swimming and playing in the water. Brooks was (finally!) loving snorkeling and we all felt we had found the most beautiful place on earth.
We swam back to the boat - with Brooks in the lead - and raced (at idle speed, of course) back to the dock so Doreen could pick up her next tour group.Tip #3: Across the street from Manatee Tour and Dive is the Crystal Paradise Restaurant. Almost every business in Crystal River has the word "crystal" in its name. We were, however, unable to find the logic behind the word "paradise" in the restaurant's name. The waitresses are not friendly. And if you want to make a substitution on a menu item, they'll do it, but they'll charge you for both entrees. The food is good, though, and they serve breakfast all day. If you have just finished swimming with a baby manatee for half an hour and played in a "crystal river" then you won't even notice a little surliness and the whole day is a lot like paradise.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)