I was once excalceated, walking along a gravel road. It was 115 degrees.

At the same time I was wearing no sunblock and a bikini.

It was a stupid time, but not one I regret.

By the time we walked the two miles across the island we were parched and scorched and had finally found a source of comfort. Water.

Hidden from all the masses on the other side of the island was a cove, man made possibly, but gorgeous, twisting and opalescent. There was a private sailboat sheltering there among the rocky limestone crags. All of us sunk in and cooled the boiling skin that was shedding its water down our backs. We were brown skinned and light headed but the Caribbean was cool. We heeded no warnings that this was private property. At that moment we were only using it in passing.

We were foot sore by the time we reached the other side of the island, our bodies ten pounds lighter for the millions of drops of sweat pooling in our wake. The only thing that kept us from passing out in the humidity on the hike back was that we mugged my more appropriately geared family.

Reaching the other side of the cay where the rest of the boat was relaxing, we rested briefly before hunting down fresh pineapple and then stepping out to snorkel well into the twenty foot deep natural pool on the front side of the island. The ocean water was bath water warm and the swimming was easy, with a natural buoyancy that characterizes salt water. But the life jackets that one had to wear with full on face gear wouldn't allow for deeper diving. Swimming back in I took off the mask and life jacket and switched out for a smaller, lighter mask. The waves were small enough that someone could roll through them and I swam way out and dove down, looking at the bright parrot fish. The ocean was beautiful.