After enlisting in the Navy, I ended up in Puerto Rico. During boot camp, when the man asks you where you would like to go, you have three choices. (at least you did, back in 1980) My choices were anywhere in Europe, anywhere in the Far East, or anywhere in the Caribbean. It was a sweet deal. I looked after their aircraft parts as an inventory clerk, and they let me live on the beach for $100 a month. Okay.
Part of the welcoming is to take you on a day trip, driving around the island on a school bus, to check out all that Puerto Rico had to offer. The island is green and beautiful. The people are amazing and kind. Lunch was a buffet at a seaside resort. It was picturesque. After lunch, we decided to get our feet wet. Much to our amazement, the sand beneath our toes in the water was moving. Reaching down, just underneath the sand, we lifted out handfuls of sand dollars. I had never seen a sand dollar that was alive. We were told to let them bleach out in the sun for a few days to let them become the familiar white. After 31 years, unfortunately this is what I have left of my sand dollars. To the right are the two "doves of peace" that are found inside the shell.
The first few days of getting into the island mood were just setting the tone for what turned out to be one of the most memorable periods in my life.
No comments:
Post a Comment