The boat pulled up directly on the beach and we mask-and-flipper-donning passengers plopped into the water. The crew pointed out the best areas for us to snorkel, near the island’s rocks, but as the weather was choppy that day the visibility wasn't so good. I decided to save my energy for the dive sites I knew we still had to come and went to lie on the deserted beach until it was time to leave. For a while I was completely lost in my imagination, daydreaming of life as a stranded ‘Bloginson Crusoe’, until the strange sensation of there being someone nearby woke me up. It seemed I wasn't as alone as I thought; 2 dogs lay curled beside me, basking in the sunshine.
Back on board the captain made preparations for us to sail directly into the heart of the Cays. The little dots of green in our line of vision grew large until they formed individual islands. There were more boats in this part of the marine park, large yachts with waterslides and dinghies full of tanned teenagers. Nothing could distract from the striking beauty of the islands though; lush yet rocky interiors with dazzling white sand exteriors. We slowly sailed through the islands with our mouths agape. The boat came to a stop,
“Now it’s time to meet the turtles,” declared the captain.
Before we had even got in the water I could see the Tobago Cays' residents frolicking in the swirl. In little groups of 2 and 3 the turtles were taking it in turns to come up for air; elegant necks and Jurassic faces just peeking above the surface. Before I had time to wimp out I jumped in to say hello.