The volcano-laden island of Grenada bustled with tourism on this sweltering afternoon. As my wife and I climbed steeply through winding streets to Fort George, overlooking the capital city of St.Georges, we realized there were no easy ways to get around in this country. We would need to limit our walking tour it seemed.

Gazing seaward, we observed the stark contrast between the mass of cruise passengers exiting the vessel and the apparent poverty that lined the crowded streets in my present location. This was not exactly what was expected from a tropical paradise. However, it felt very safe to walk and there was a familiar comfort of obvious British influence here.

Seeking an inexpensive option to escape from the congested town, we next hopped on an island taxi for a short ride to the renowned, Grand Anse Beach. Upon arrival, I bought a coconut from an amiable beachcomber who put on a nice show for us in cutting the coconut for me to drink. Sadly, there was only time for a brief walk along the inviting shores.

I would have found this experience more rewarding at Fort George and Grand Anse Beach  if we had arrived in a cooler part of the day when it was less crowded. Furthermore, while I looked forward to ambling around this paradise today, the pressure of adhering to the set time schedule of arrival/departure tended to  limit  my independent exploration options. Lastly, I found less incentive to sample unique, local cuisines here after becoming conditioned to the ease of indulging in an endless buffet onboard ship to my heart’s content.

I do not consider these limitations insurmountable though. Through diligent consideration of allotted excursion times and judicious use of my digital devices, I can successfully conduct my own island excursions. Essentially, by avoiding waste of my tourist energy, I will always value “quality” over “quantity” in prioritizing my independent explorations.

Recovering from the frenzy of holiday time celebration in December, my wife and I embarked on a short car trip to Tampa the first weekend after New Year. Our main objectives would be to spend time with my wife’s cousin and pay a brief visit to our alumnus, the University of South Florida (USF). We anticipated a routine drive as winter weather would probably not surface as an issue of concern and we would be traveling away from incoming Broward County traffic.

As we leisurely drove across Alligator Alley to the west coast in mid- morning, the swampy randomness surrounding me began to sensitize my mind to the slower pace of nature’s calling. Being more observant of the Everglades environment now, the ground seemed wetter for this time of year as migratory birds hovered together in survival mode to find food. Stopping at a boat-launching area, I spotted a small alligator lurking motionless in the center of a murky-watered canal. He/she did not seem to be bothered by my presence and I wondered if this made me his predator or prey.

Reaching USF at lunchtime, inquisitive memories came and went quickly. How many times did I intently walk these spacious grounds on the way to class? How did I overcome the distractions of college life to maintain my academic focus here? How was it possible to survive as a student without the Internet? Such questions reminded me that my four-year commitment to USF helped me grow not only as a scholar but also to mature as a fully-functioning adult.

Changes to our original plan to stay near the college soon surfaced as we realized that lodging availability would be limited near campus  with the College Football Championship Game taking place in Tampa that weekend. Choosing our most economical option then, we booked a motel room across the bay in Pinellas County that night and readjusted our plans to stay only one day in the area. Tragedy in South Florida further compounded our concerns when CNN reported that five tourists had been gunned down at Fort Lauderdale Airport that afternoon. How fortunate for us that we had chosen to drive from our Broward County home rather than book a flight to Tampa that day.

The next morning, we woke up to pounding rain on our motel windows and real winter-like temperatures. It was not a day to take a long walk or swim for sure yet fewer beachcombers would be venturing out due to the inclement weather. Still, we wanted to “kill some time”  before making our expected family stop. “Honeymoon Island” thus became a pleasing discovery for us then on a day we did not expect it. As we strolled along its continuous sandy beach surrounded by islands of pristine mangroves overlooking wind-blown dunes, I imagined this “protected” preserve as “Old Florida” beauty, before the explosion of tourist growth in this state.

My “Traveling Mind” realizes that I must not only be prepared to find new destinations but also remain cognizant of the personal moments experienced along the way. Since much of Florida’s natural beauty  lies within a day’s drive of South Florida, why not travel within your state more often? Savor your solitude on a country road, cool off in a crystal-clear spring, or birdwatch with binoculars in hand along a lonely beach. By choosing near rather than far, your inquisitive mind will grasp an “ocean” of new ideas at less cost and distance.

My initial impression of Curacao began with the name of the island itself. What a perfect blend of vowels and consonants that just rolls lightly in the mouth – cur/uh/say/o. Using this name as a linguistic mantra, I felt confident that our early start at 8:00 am. would prophecize that the remainder of our stay here would be equally untroubled.

Upon first sight of this picturesque island from the ship, I observed a complexity of landscape that flat Aruba was missing. Tropical beach greenness rising to a rugged and hilly interior seemed to dominate my gaze at first. Gradually the Dutch architectural presence of the capital city, Willemstad, came into view in a captivating explosion of color. Brightly colored pastels of yellow, blue, and pink -covered villas lined the lagoon enveloping the commercial hub of the downtown sector. Further inland, tourists shops overlooking cobblestone streets provided visions of Old Europe living.

A crowd of locals had quietly gathered in the streets leading to the center at 9:00 am. as we took our place amidst the relaxed calm of the morning commute. I felt relieved that we had arrived in the city without the expected cruise mob presence later. Crossing an 18th century, swingbridge, we entered the town proper. The walls of  Fort Amsterdam, enclosing a towering palace of yellowish ocher, immediately came into view. Serving as the national seat of Curacao government now, this UNESCO World Heritage site, provided clear evidence to us about the Dutch legacy on this island.

Making our way seaward to a limestone jetty along a rocky beach, we reached an aging pier as land crabs scurried away from our presence to protective rocks over a crystal blue water scene. Resting in quiet contentment now, today had been cooler and a  more fulfilling experience than the Aruba excursion before.

Crossing the lagoon again, we ascended to the Anthropology Museum, and viewed an amazing display of African and Middle East artifact and slave trade memorabilia. The most impressive parts of this “Smithsonian-quality” experience were the extensive collections of hieroglyphic writings on stone tablet, an actual boat from the slave trade, and the eerie African masks that added an element of “black magic” to the experience.

Classy but unpretentious, crowded yet tranquil, Curacao captured my attention today with minimal stress today. I picture this island with the cool name as a worthy stop today and it leaves me curious to explore further this island in future travels.

Day three of our Eastern Caribbean cruise brought my wife and I to the elongated cay of Aruba. From the deck of the ship, the flatness of this island allowed us to gaze from its busy port city, Oranjestad across to the sparcely populated leeward side. The three most prominent features in this panorama include the prominent volcano mound midway across the island, the line of luxury resort hotels lining the western beachside, and the unsightly towers of offshore oil derricks protruding prominently offshore.

Using my Triposo Travel app to plan a leisurely walking tour, I expected we would cover the major sights of the town efficiently. Arriving within 30 minutes at our first stop, the National Museum of Aruba, we paid a nominal fee to wander the grounds of an 18th century Dutch fort as well as view a modest collection of colorful artifacts from the hat making and weaving industries of the past. Sadly, we learned that Aruba’s balance of trade with the U.S. and Europe is increasingly threatened by competing Asian markets for these goods today.

Continuing our city walk inland, we amused ourselves watching a family of curious green and spiny iguanas sunning nearby. Oddly, they seemed oblivious to our human presence. A pungent smell in the air accompanied these prehistoric-looking lizards as they slowly made their way in and out of the surrounding polluted water.

Crossing a small bridge over a main waterway to the Caribbean Sea, we spotted a prominently displayed flag ahead, leading to the air conditioned refuge of the nearby Aruban National Library. Cooling off now, we took some time to take advantage of the free wifi inside the cavernous building. Phone service, however became a challenge today. “Hi mom, we are in Aruba. How are you? I am fine ….” click and no signal. The world can apparently wait for our return and frankly I don’t miss this reality now.

We have typically decided to return back to our cruise vessel from an excursion by lunchtime in the past and today was no exception. Our four mile walk around Oranjestad seemed to end too soon today perhaps but we had enjoyed our brief sample of the “Happy Island” spirit of Aruba at a nominal cost. We still could have time to venture off the boat again for a bit of souvenir shopping later or a short ride on a local disco bus. For tomorrow’s walk, I would need to change into my more comfortable shoes and drink more water.

On our Caribbean cruise, I expect an unpredictable supply of sun, wind and rain. While my warm-blooded metabolism reacts well to such fickle tropical conditions, I amusingly observe many cruisers today who seem disturbed by anything less than a perfect summer day. Walking around restlessly, there are those who resign themselves to the likelihood of a sudden storm. Others scurry to the nearest overhang at the first drop of rain or possessively grip onto this belongings as if a Kansas twister will soon be in full swing. Would it really be a tragedy if one’s shirt became soaked or a hat blew off their head today? Is that really so bad? Could a passenger realistically be blown off the boat by a sudden gust of wind?

Why fight it? Find a shady spot now to read or rest and expect that these unfortunate moments will eventually pass. When I feel the need to move, use the freedom of mobility on this cruise to relocate my position out of enjoyment not fear. Realize that one of the reasons I took this cruise would be to appreciate each moment of life as an awaiting opportunity.

I typically frequent those areas of the ship which seduce me to “chill” more when the weather turns bad. Moving forward to the bow, I spot the “Sanctuary”, and settle into a canopied lounge chair in reclusive surroundings, relaxing to my heart’s content. Considering lower deck locations , I find the library, with the intention of taking a fulfilling nap overlooking a treasury of books that I so long to read. Taking advantage of my afternoon snack at the stern now, I locate a homey couch facing seaward, calling me to sit for a spell there to merge my mind with the foamy stir of the passing storm beyond.

To “weather the storm” really means that there will always be imperfections to conquer each day as sure as the sun moves toward light and dark across the daily sky. I don’t try to compare myself to those “slim-fit” days of my youth or to the muscular physique I never really had. I sail onward, then, into the approaching darkness with full awareness that my sustained light of self-acceptance should always lead the way.

As weather-weary “snowbirds” arrive to visit the sun- drenched shores of South Florida this winter season, they will endure aggravating flight delays, snarled gridlock traffic, and inflated hotel rates for the sake of fulfilling their tropical dreams. As a longtime resident of this area, I too am not immune to the hassles of tourist invasion. As my wife and I escape from such madness, on this ten-day Caribbean cruise, our daily lives will slow down to appreciate a well-earned peace and tranquility of our seafaring holiday.

After a brief, 15 minute drive from home to Port Everglades, our cruise ship destination, we opt for the convenience of long term parking designated for cruisers only. A friendly valet proceeds to park our car, carry our luggage, and safely point us to the awaiting van, for a brisk conveyance to our departure terminal. So nice to be treated like a guest of honor in your own city it seems.

Our good fortune continues as security lines are light and we are relieved that we can carry our own luggage today onboard the ship. As a sea of smiling hostesses awaits our unceremonious entrance into the boat, it feels like we have returned home again in the welcoming confines of our “floating hotel.”

While we leisurely into our cabin, reminders of the realities of our past life fade away. No wallet or keys needed, the cellphone sits useless, with merely a cruise card to carry now. Sleep remains vital but seem to be a mere respite from the sheer volume of organized activities/excursions offered each day. Thoughts of nutritional moderation fade in the excitement of elegant dining and unlimited buffets. As walls of distrust break down in the likelihood of making conversation with strangers, unforeseen friendships can be borne from the spark of a common interest.

A movie begins on the top deck after the enjoyments of first night dinner. Grab a blanket, pick up a bag of popcorn and feel the cool air now. What a perfect time to hold hands with my wife again in the intimacy of a lonely corner.

As the first day comes to an uneventful close, I feel an opportunity to grow as a person in my water-enveloping cocoon. As my cluttered mind clears from obsessive thoughts of everyday survival, I seem more open to think of others and recognize others who contemplate me. As I gaze into the dark abyss of these silent waters , I also gain humble appreciation of my aliveness in the miracle of life that surrounds me now.