El Caribe: Curacao and Aruba

Days 9/10
Curaçao, Netherland Antilles / 12˚ 04. 93” N
Aruba, Netherland Antilles / 12˚ 31. 02’ N
October 31—November 1, 2010

Rain has dogged us for days. But it is November in the Caribbean and the dry season really hasn’t started. We’ve been in the broad ring of Hurricane Tomas and, while we haven’t had severe weather, it’s certainly not been a sun-filled trip—especially on Curaçao and Aruba.

We arrived in Curaçao on a Sunday morning to find everything closed. Everything! Lucky me! No souvenirs to buy. But, cars and their drivers were available. By now, Chris and Ursula and the two of us had joined forces and rented a car and driver for six hours. I was immediately struck by how similar Netherland Antilles architecture was to that in the Netherlands. Brightly painted houses almost doll like, with gabled roofs, dominated all over the island.

Our driver, Franklin, spoke horrible English and his Spanish wasn almost too hard to understand, but he knew that we wanted to see ponds so Chris and Ursula could bird spot, and that we wanted to see as many of the 38 beaches on the island as possible. Roger, our driver, would pull off the island ring road and bring us to postcard perfect coves with only a few people on the beach. At one, we found a vendor selling luscious cocadas, coconut based sweets handmade on the island, as well as a type of peanut brittle loaded with fresh peanuts in a brown sugar and sugar cane base. Yum!

By hour four, after traversing miles and miles of Cuaçaon roadways, I was exhausted. I fell asleep in the van and only woke when the car hit a huge puddle that splashed me awake.

We had plenty of time to spare when we got back to Willemstad, the capital, whose brightly colored houses in the harbor have landed it a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Chris and I photographed the line of buildings from every conceivable angle, then the four of us sat for a long time enjoying a chat and drink before returning to the boat.

That night, after dinner I decided to hit the casino. I’m not gambler, but am willing to lose $10.00 every now and then. Perhaps because both of my parents are gone now, this cruise has reminded me of that first one years ago.

It was our first night at sea at that Miami-Nassau cruise, and a huge storm had moved in. We were on a small boat with very few stabilizers. My mother was the first to get sick, returning to our stateroom almost immediately. My brother soon followed. In the long shadows of memories of that night, I remember that my Dad, who’d once traveled from California to Hawaii during WW II, thought this quite funny. He and I went to dinner. The sea was so rough and the ship so unstable in the waters that each table had a one inch lip around it so plates wouldn’t fly off. I had no idea what we talked about, but I do remember that as soon as the first course was consumed my dad got sick, started to gag, and rushed back to the cabin.

I was left alone. For some reason I didn’t get seasick. I finished dinner, and wandered the ship as it pitched and rolled in the night’s storm. It was great fun. Only a few passengers were milling about, and I remember chatting with a woman who was a teacher. I was 15 and had already thought of going into that profession, so the conversation stands out in memory.

What also stands out in memory is the fact that this 15 year old boy had his first experience with a casino. I had money in my pocket and started to play the slot machines in the bar. And for some other unknown reason, no one stopped me.

I stated to win. In those days you still pulled the handle and real coins rolled out of the machine. In the end, I came out ahead and had more money in my pocked that when I entered. I also had the commonsense to stop while I was ahead.

I don’t think I ever shared that story with my parents at the time. Perhaps they wouldn’t have cared. They were still sick the next morning.

Later that day, we learned that two people had died on that ship that night, having been thrown into something that killed them. Maybe it was a nautical myth, or simply a story bantered around the ship. Either way it sobered us. Several years later we learned that the ship actually sank while enroute somewhere. Perhaps we were never as safe as we thought we were. Whatever! That first cruise was my first taste of “exotic” travel. Thanks Mom and Dad!

The next day we awoke in Aruba. Unlike Curaçao, which declared their independence in 2007, Aruba was still attached to the Netherlands, which meant that I just might, if I were lucky, track down Dutch goodies I’ve only eaten in Holland.

But, while that certainly was important, first things did come first. The four of us got ourselves a very fine driver and super ambassador to Aruba, “The Happy Island.”

Mitch had the standard tour: a bit of countryside, a bit of beach. Aruba is a dry island and loaded with cactus. Our started out sunny and cloudless, but as noon approached, and our tour ended, it started to rain. We were deposited back at the boat, but there was still four hours to spare. Glenda wanted to shop; Chris and Ursula returned to the ship for lunch; I had a personal mission.

Our very long time friend, Lomme Schokker, of the Netherlands, who used to live in Plattsburgh, introduced us to Stroopwaffle--a yummy, mollases type cookie; ginger cookies in the shape of windmills; and Vla, a not quite custard, not quite yogurt, dairy concoction. All are unavailable in Plattsburgh, but periodically Lomme will send a care package for Christmas. Mitch had driven us past several large grocery stores, a goodd two miles from the center. I had plenty of time to walk there and back.,plus the walk would be seaside which would be pleasant.

The sunny, dry day had turned to a warm, gray rain. But that didn't deter me. I was on a food mission and rain would not stop me.

An hour later I came to the cooly, air-comditioned grocery store I'd seen earlier. And what a treat....there were all sorts of Dutch goodies. I filled two bags, trudged them back to the ship and relished in the idea that I'd eat Vla Stroopwaffle for the remainder of the voyage.

My journey through the grocery store brought be back to times in South America. I was seeing brands I only see there. That made perfect sense as we only miles from the Venezuelan coastline. True South America was less than two hours away.

We were as far south as we could get on this cruise. The Norwegian Spirit set its course north. We'd have one sea day before our next destination--an island off the mainland of Central America.

One last full day at sea! We had to use it well.