The End of the Journals

The End of the Journals

It has recently come to my attention that my journal submissions, so beloved by some, enjoyed by several, loathed by scores, and instantaneously blocked by someone who shall remain nameless, has gone absent for several past months. Perhaps since December? I can’t actually recall. So starting school seems the perfect opportunity to switch over to a blog-style journal.

Why a blog? Why not? It does seem a bit self-important, and not a whole unlike publishing your own diary of thoughts and deeds. For people you know all-too-well to read. Or not. But I like feeling a little self-important, and if posting in a blog helps me develop a normal routine as I start my Ph.D., all the better. At the very least, I don't think it will be my downfall. That's what the rest of the internet is for.

Now I know that all blogs are centered around a few themes. What's mine? We haven't quite figured out, but chances are they'll take on the tone of a great story or happening. Life is exciting, and it should be captured! But a sampling of posts will probably take on classlife, grad life, trips, and, should Kinky Friedman get elected governor, politics. Anyhoo...

I still feel a bit whelmed (we're not sure if it is over- or under- at this point... but I digress), as I close the chapter to my life on St. Croix and open up what looks like a doozy of one here in College Station, Texas. Although I've been here only 10 days, my arrival here has felt a lot like reading a really good book but beginning to feel tired and so you thumb through the next chapter only to find its about 35 pages longer than any other chapter and that the font has suddenly shrunk to 7pt. and the author made the executive decision to write in Tagalog. Not that learning Tagalog is a bad thing.

But first, let’s recap a zesty last 6 months on St. Croix, a place I like to describe as “having drank their Kool-Aid.” So hopefully, once this stage is complete, I can return to St. Croix’s lush green shores, sparkling clear water, and all manners of people best described as extras from The Island of Misfit Toys, where I can take up residence as Dr. Misfit in Chief, Ph.D. The Big Dr. MC. I’m all aglow. Even now.

Most importantly, the last six months on St. Croix saw the conclusion of my work at UVI. In what I’d describe as a slow, painless death by boredom, my amount of work dwindled as I became less intrigued to start up new projects. Eventually, I was diving nearly every day or inputting the data from said dives. Terribly painless. I even picked up a side job (number 4 for those counting) as resident sediment expert for the dredging project at the world-famous dive site of Frederiksted Pier. If there’s one thing that’s totally innate and expected in the manner of human behavior, it’s that we love to ruin a good thing. Fortunately, despite all attempts otherwise, the dredging has been largely benign to the diving under the pier, and the nearby reefs seem unaffected by the industriousness. Of course, this does not mean the reefs are in any great spot. Following the big bleaching in the fall, a swath of reefs was hit hard by some coral disease. And although I am not citing any other studies, I can honestly proffer this point: Disease is a bad thing.

Apart from the life of the researcher, everything wound down nicely on St. Croix. I played piano at the Buccaneer Resort every Wednesday night almost until the day I left, managed to hold onto my bartending shift (and more importantly, the free beer) until the day before I left, and the dredging project is mercifully dragging on, providing me with a heady burst of income while I move into my abode. And then of course, there was the sailing trip to St. Vincent and the Grenadines.

Rather than bore you with the details, all I want to say is this: if you like sailing, or like the ocean, or like beaches, or like hanging out with friends in new places, or traveling at a leisurely pace, I highly recommend chartering a sail boat to a picturesque destination and make a time of it. Sailing for 8 days with 9 others, I explored and enjoyed the many, many sights of St. Vincent, Bequia (BECK-way), Mustique, and St. Lucia. Among the highlights: climbing Petit Piton on St. Lucia (the very famous mountain is instantly recognizable and a bear to climb. Straight up the cliff walls holding on to roots of trees, branches, rock outcroppings, and strategically-placed rope and lines that guide you up the trickier sections. It was a 3.5 hour climb and descent, and about a 3.5 day recovery. If you do go, I am honor bound to recommend Marlon Brando as your guide. Just go to Soufriere Town (Soufriere means Sulphur in the Air!) and ask around. He’s quite perfect for the part of the island guide. Even hikes barefoot. Another highlight: partying at Basil’s Bar on Mustique. Famous for the famous people, Mustique is essentially a private island with a bar owned by Mick Jagger. Naturally, he wasn’t there but it wasn’t necessary to see the lead Stone for a good time, especially when 18 Swedes are taking over the DJ booth and playing their Euro-Techno dance music. Another highlight: Wallilabou, St. Vincent. A fun town name to say, if you can call it a town. More importantly, it’s the set for the town in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. And though we looked far and wide, neither Johnny Depp nor Keira Knightley were there. Though we did meet a guy named “Shadow”, who apparently made his money as a kung-fu blackploitation movie star back in the 1970s (definitely get "Velvet Smooth" in your queue on Netflix, if you haven't already...). Shadow moved back to St. Vincent to be near his mom, and is drinking and smoking himself to death at his private bar called “Pirates Retreat”. What does he drink? Very Strong Rum and Coke. And that, dear readers, is both a type of rum and a descriptor of how he pours it. It’s very high proof and rather dangerously intoxicating. But when you and 6 of your friends are the only people in town, he throws a mean party. Mixed with fruit punch, and it becomes a "rum whammy", which, given my short time with a language coach to teach me how to pronounce the letter "R" (I'd have been a bad pirate at 7...), becomes an extremely tough drink to order. "May I have another whum whammy, siwh? *hiccup and a smile*

And of course, there was the sailing and the friends. Perfect time. Already, I hear plans of doing the British Virgin Islands over New Years. I’m ready for more. And should that not pan out, I'm not above writing a summer research proposal where a 50' Beneteau is an essential research/dive vessel. For anyone who might think otherwise, I humbly present for evidence: Living in beautiful, cosmopolitan Cairns, Australia for 4 months.