NOT JUST SWIMMING WITH TURTLES....

The setting was the charming south coast Casuarina Beach Hotel. Picture a Barbados beach at sunset on that late April evening: tables and chairs elegantly placed on the sand; local hotel owners and government elite all dressed to the nines in suits and flowing dresses, enjoying canapés and drinks, the precursor to a formal dinner.

Now picture the initial dismay as the very beach beneath their feet began to move and bubble up. And then hear the delighted laughter as these Barbadian guests realized that, in a coordinated effort, a nest of 150 turtle hatchlings was breaking out and heading to the sea. Understanding the importance of this treacherous journey, guests gathered in a protective circle encouraging the baby turtles on their way.

How do I know about this? Over a month earlier, your Uncle Christopher, sitting at the edge of this very beach, was enjoying an evening drink with a friend when an eerie giant black shadow slowly emerged from the sea. Nervous surprise gave way to the recognition that what they were observing was a giant leatherback, the largest of sea turtles, lumbering ashore to lay her eggs. That Christopher and his friend moved quite close to her, mattered not; mama leatherback was on an all-consuming mission, to dig a deep nest, to lay her eggs and to return to the sea. The following day Christopher informed our hotel owner, Bonnie, what had transpired. She swore your Uncle Christopher to secrecy, to tell no one what he had witnessed.

When your Grampa and I arrived at the Casuarina registration desk the next March, Bonnie spotted us and immediately took us aside to relate what had happened at the dinner party. Christopher’s leatherback hatchlings had made it safely to the sea and she wanted him to know.

As trade in turtle shells and turtle meat increased unabated over the years, the hawksbill and leatherback populations plummeted by 90%, bringing these turtles to the level of extinction. In 1987, in an effort to conserve their sea turtle population, the University of the West Indies began the Barbados Sea Turtle Project. Through education programmes geared to both students and adults, the BSTP has impressed upon their nation the importance of saving their sea turtles.

A hotline has been established to the BSTP. Why? Hatchlings instinctively know to break out of their nests when the sands cool as the sun goes down. In the evening there is less chance of predators; no birds to sweep down and claim them as prey; no sand crabs to bite chunks out of them; less chance of being a tasty snack for passing fish. Sadly though, these baby turtles who with their sensitive eyes use the light of the stars and moon to guide them to the sea, now easily become confused by the artificial lights of hotels, restaurants and homes that line the shore. The BTSP hotline has been established so that Barbadians and tourists can report disoriented turtles who have been found on the boardwalk, in the middle of busy roads, in muddy gardens, in pool filters, in crab holes +++.

The few hatchlings who make it to the sea paddle furiously with their tiny flippers to floating seaweed which becomes their initial source of food. Here, tragically all too often baby turtles munch on trapped plastics which kill them by blocking their digestive tracks. You will be happy to know that effective April 1 of this year, Barbados has banned the import, sale and use of all single-use plastics.

Even with all of these efforts in place, it is estimated that only 1 in 1000 hatchlings grow to maturity and after two decades travel back to where they were born to lay their eggs. Yes! Only 1 in 1000 baby turtles survive. 😢

And so, Morgan and Zachary, on March 17 when we have reservations to swim on the west coast with the turtles and after you fall in love with these gentle, friendly, graceful giants of the Caribbean Sea, remind yourself that you are not just swimming with turtles, you are swimming with the survivors of an incredibly treacherous journey.

RANDOM THOUGHTS ON A SUNDAY

To the person who felt compelled to attend that Christmas party despite having a horrible cold, thank you!  Who knew I could be transformed into such a vision of beauty after having met you. Reality check! Grrrr!  Next time, could you please think of others first and stay home.

A friend posted this meme yesterday. After a good chuckle, I had to honestly admit to myself that it is I who must own up to being the drama queen. Jim has attempted, albeit at a drastically reduced level, to go about his daily activities. Me? Why do that when I can whine. 😂

Flight 752. How, as family or friend of one of the victims, do you ever come to terms with such a devastatingly useless loss? The brilliant talent and promise of these Iranian Canadians puts to shame those against Iranian immigration. Should Ukrainian Airlines have been flying into a potential war zone? Thank God for our current prime minister who, instead of tweeting out insulting furious knee-jerk reaction comments, in his speeches about the tragedy left diplomatic room for the Iranians to admit fault and who, instead of focusing on his own fury, has concentrated his efforts on the surviving families. Please Iran, for the sake of those involved, mitigate their agony and allow this investigation and subsequent compensation to be an easy process. Wishful thinking? Oh, and to Mr. Drumpf who stated that should it be proven Flight 752 was shot down by an Iranian missile, there would be serious repercussions, may we respectfully ask you to shut up. No American citizens were harmed and we Canadians, Ukrainians and Brits are doing just fine on our own. Actually, better without your assistance!

Australia. It is only the beginning of their summer, and still the infernos continue. What the Aussies are feeling, I cannot even begin to understand, because on this tragedy, my emotions are a giant never-ending roller coaster. My heart swells with pride as I watch our Canadian firefighters land in Sydney to offer assistance and then my mood crashes as I listen to a scientist estimate that now one billion animals have perished. Huge sighs of relief emanate from me when friends notify us that they are safe only to have my joy crash as I read that two wildfires in the southeast may merge into one inferno. I cry in sadness as I see a photo of a dead kangaroo lying in a burnt-out forest and then cry again, this time in love, as I watch a koala grab the hand of a man feeding him water. Worst is the helplessness. I hate feeling helpless.

To Harry and Meghan, go for it. Who can blame Prince Harry for wanting out? He didn’t ask for his current life; he was born in to it. As a child he followed his Mother’s coffin; no ‘stiff upper lip’ helps you deal with that. Now his wife is being hounded by the relentlessly ugly British press. It may be ‘complicated’, but I say find your happiness; find your freedom.

Amber Alert! Nothing like being woken up by an Amber Alert warning of an incident at the Pickering Nuclear Plant. Perhaps we should all go our and purchase lottery tickets, because the alert was in error. 

Ice storm. I could hear the clicking of ice particles on our window last night and expected the worst. Sometimes, thankfully, the weatherman gets it wrong. I am sitting here with no interruptions in power and temperatures back to their sub-zero norms, looking out at sparkling ice covered trees and a thin layer of snow on the ground. Stunningly beautiful winter has returned. I’m fine with that!

And that’s all folks!

DEAR JIM,

Tomorrow we celebrate 50 years, 18,250 days of marriage.....and that's not counting Leap Year days. Wow! So much time has passed, so much for which to be thankful. I would have to write a novel the length of Proust’s in Search of Lost Time to include all of my thank you’s to you. How about I try just a few?

Not all has been perfect. 😉 I defy any couple in a lengthy marriage to say that tolerance and tenacity have never been required.  We have experienced moments of upset, tears, raised voices and strained silences, but those moments have been few and are far outweighed by the love, trust, partnership, and genuine liking with which we have been so very blessed. All humans change over time; no one is the same person today as they were five years ago. In my heart, I believe that the glue which has held us together is that we have continued to love the ever changing versions of you and me. 

Thank you for not chaining me to your agenda.  Not for a moment have I felt controlled. You have encouraged me to seek individual pursuits, to find my own successes, and to enjoy, in addition to our joint ones, my own friends. 

Thank you for selflessly encouraging my real estate career. How many times, when I was in sales, did we pass at our front door, you arriving home from your career and me, heading out to deal with clients. Never once did you complain about getting dinner for Chris and Matt or about the number of Sunday’s I abandoned the three of you for open houses. And then came the opportunity to purchase my own Royal LePage franchise. You didn’t blink at the financial risk, just said, Go for it sweetie! That you trusted me to make a go of it made my heart soar; I solemnly promised myself never to let down your faith in me. I often joke that there was a giant footprint on my bum as you urged me forward in my chosen career. How true!

Thank you for being an extraordinary and involved father and grandfather to Christopher and Matthew and now Morgan and Zachary. From day one, you have been engaged, affectionate and sensitive. Thank you for being the stronger disciplinarian. A soft touch, I could have easily allowed both of our boys to become monsters. 😲 That principal voice and look of yours were not to be ignored. 😂 I know that in their education both Christopher and Matthew always knew that you had their backs. That you are now close friends with both of our boys is a testament to your involvement. Most importantly in signing off with or saying hello/goodbye with Christopher, Matthew, Morgan and Zachary, I have never known you not to say, I love you. 

In sickness and in heath, state our marriage vows. Thankfully, my health issues have been few, but whenever there was a problem - kidney failure after Christopher was born, a broken hip and leg requiring surgery, anemic exhaustion and a serious bout of depression - you have been my constant never complaining champion and advocate. There is great peace in knowing that you have my back, too.

Thank you for being my travel companion and for tolerating my, Let’s go to..... My excitement level rises immediately when you smile knowingly and say, Book it Dano! Thank you for being our car driver in so many different countries often with unreadable signage, different driving rules, barely passable narrow roads and Mario Andretti-style locals. You have  blessed us with the ability to travel without being part of crowded tours or cruises, to set our own timetables, to take crazy, spur-of-the moment detours, and to see what we, and we alone, are interested in. Thank you for the precious gift of eye opening travel.

Thank you, Hon, for our 50 year journey of laughter, love, companionship, celebration, support, adventure and most importantly, family! So true is that movie line, You complete me. Let our journey continue.....

Happy 50th Anniversary. I love you!

HELP! SPINNING HEAD CURE NEEDED

Three weeks of driving in Scotland + three weeks listening to the BBC while in the car + three weeks of a constant Brexit barrage = two spinning heads. The dangerous impact of the Irish hard border issue, strong Scottish resistance to leaving the EU, the effects of a No Deal Brexit, the legality of a perogued Parliament, the possibility of a second referendum, reports of potential food and drug shortages, all with the EU clock ticking. My head is aching.

The impeachment of President Trump......finally!  This should be a foregone conclusion, I naively first thought. Hah! Republican information spins despite the stark evidence at hand, the constant flood of Trump’s vitriolic distractions and his barrage of nonsensical tweets have my head spinning. Will the American public hear the facts over White House and Republican noise? I worry. This isn’t just the U.S. we are talking about; this is our future world stability at stake. My head is aching.

And our own Canadian election. Personal attacks, in both speech and advertisements, instead of policy discussion plus massive misinformation on line. When there is platform discussion, who are we believe? Perhaps I wouldn’t be as sensitive to this had our Premier, Mr. Ford not promised one thing during the campaign and then enacted the exact opposite after he won majority power. Who is telling the truth? My head aches from spinning.

Emotions everywhere are running high. I am exhausted from railing at personal attacks and actually yelling at the radio and TV. After some calming self talk this morning, I think I have found the cure for my spinning head. Ignore the confusing chaos. Seek out and trust the facts. 

OFF THE BEATEN TOURIST PATH

So sorry about your weather!

Hope the sun comes out soon.

Too bad it’s so misty.

So ran the comments on my Hebridean Facebook postings. How do I begin to express that the weather Jim and I experienced was part of our adventure, part of the lure of these remote isles and something for which we were and went totally prepared? If we had been looking for a sunny, palm-treed locale, we would never have journeyed to the Outer Hebrides.

Images of the wild skies of ever-changing weather patterns sweeping in off the North Atlantic, fleeting light patterns reflected on the tweedy coloured moors and rocky mountain ranges, varying coastline views of endless white beaches and dramatic jagged rocky cliffs under constant siege from roiling angry seas enchanted us both. The power of the Hebridean elements is surprisingly seductive.

The beauty, unique character and fascinating history of the Outer Hebrideans who survive and thrive added to the pure magic of the isles. Neolithic sites, remnants of the Clearances, the discovery of the Lewis Chessmen, blackhouses, the click-clatter of looms creating beautiful Harris Tweed patterns, crofting, fishing, the cutting and burning of peat as fuel, the annual guga hunt, the never forgotten Iolaire tragedy, a relatively new gin distillation industry, and the flourishing Gaelic language kept us enthralled and wanting more.

Nowhere in our travels have we experienced warmer, more helpful welcomes or such a solid sense of caring community. Driving the narrow, single lane roads often blocked with “sheep jams” 😂 proved at times challenging, but the ever-present wave to say thank you at passing places always made us smile. A police officer,  diverting traffic because of an accident, recognized that we were visitors and thoughtfully took the time to show us on our map a shortcut route to our destination, saving us a lengthy loop back through Stornoway. The manager of the Gearrannan Blackhouses, when she heard that Jim and I were headed for the Butt of Lewis, took us aside and kindly warned us of the slippery grass at the cliff’s edge. The rock won’t give way, she warned, but the grass is slippery and you could slip over the edge in an instant. Needless to say, we heeded her advice. Such examples of thoughtfulness and caring were evident everywhere visited.

In an environment where most people know each other, Where are you from? was a constant question. Canada always elicited huge smiles and genuine interest. Despite their remote location, the majority of islanders we met were extremely well informed on national and world affairs.

We both confess that after the isolation and great sense of peace we enjoyed on Lewis and Harris, Jim and I found our return to a Scottish mainland of crowds, traffic, tourists, tourist busses and souvenir shop upon souvenir shop far more difficult than we had imagined. Culture shock perhaps. For the final few days of our trip, we merely went through the motions; missing the uniqueness of the isles’ experience, it was time to go home.

The Outer Hebrides, Life On The Edge, we discovered, can be quick to ensnare the heart. Jim appropriately uses the word magic. We will forever hold in our hearts the wild land, sea and sky, the vibrant history of which we knew so little before and most is all, the warmth of a unique, unforgettable and very special people.

Our lesson! It pays to get off that beaten tourist path.

HOW MUCH DO YOU TAKE BEFORE YOU SAY ENOUGH?

Sitting with a glass of wine, enjoying the warmth of our blackhouse cast iron fireplace and listening to the wind howl outside, my thoughts are tied up with events past and present which have impacted these precious Outer Hebrides and also Scotland. That’s my problem when I learn just enough of local history, it makes me too sensitive.

As with Ireland, Scotland and the Outer Hebrides suffered “The Clearances” at the hands of the English. Repugnantly, English land owners viewing high and mountainous pastures as more profitable if under sheep rather than people, evicted their tenants, condemning them to a life of extreme poverty or forced emigration to Australia or the Americas. 

In the amazing little Uig museum, I was moved by the following writing. I was born in Uig and I was upon two occasions deprived of my possessions.....we were deprived of the hill pasture which was given to the neighbouring tack and then our stock was taken from us. We were obliged to subsist as best we could on the crofts. Subsequently we were summoned out of our parish altogether and deprived of everything we possessed - cattle, sheep and everything else. The people asked the Chamberlain at the time what he was then going to do when there were no homes, and he pointed to the sea, and told us our home was there.

A witness to the Clearances wrote, .......were hounded away to Australia and America and I think I can hear the cry of the children to this day.

In World War I, of more than 6,500 men from Lewis, an Isle with a total population of less than 30,000 at that time, 1,151 were killed in action. Lewis’ list of dead in action was one of the highest proportions of any UK community. Tragically, it gets worse.  

On December 31, 1918, English War Office bureaucrats crowded 264 returning WWI Hebridean survivors onto a seconded pleasure yacht, the Iolaire, with rated capacity for 100 including crew, with lifesaving capacity for only 100, and with an understaffed crew commanded by a inebriated English captain. Imagine the excitement of these WWI vets to be returning home alive to the Outer Hebrides in time for New Year’s Day. At 2:00am in stormy weather, the Iolaire ran aground on infamous rocks, The Beasts of Holm, in the mouth of Stornoway Harbour. 201 men drowned in what remains Britain’s biggest peacetime disaster at sea since the loss of the Titanic. The loss devastated the Isle of Lewis and scarred a generation. The irony was that half the ratings on the Iolaire were local fisherman and could have told the captain or the helmsman, if asked, that they were on a dangerous incorrect course.

And now my undisciplined mind brings me to today. In a resoundingly high referendum turnout, Scotland voted 62% to remain in the European Union. The Scottish government has continued to air ads telling Europeans that they are open for business. Multiple businesses and the fishing industry have published pro-EU articles. Speak to a local and the majority wish to stay. Here we go again......a nation’s desires will likely be overrriden by English policy.

I know! I know! I am too simplistic and emotional in my thoughts. I’m siding with a nation I have learned over the years to respect and love. Sorry, but I just can’t stop asking, How much do you take before you say ‘enough’?

IF YOU DON’T LIKE SCOTTISH WEATHER.....

....wait thirty minutes and it is likely to change. If you thought Canadian weather was changeable, you truly need to visit the Outer Hebrides to experience weather that totally dominates life.....every day.....24/7.

WIND! Meteorologists will tell you that wind is the key feature of the Outer Hebrides’ climate. No kidding! At the very northern tip of the island chain, the Butt of Lewis, there is a gale on average every one in six days. Whether it is like a soft Caribbean trade wind or a bulling wind in its restless ferocity (Andrew Smith), the wind quite simply never stops blowing here. Peter Mays describes a Hebridean wind that blows sometimes with such force that it can blow waterfalls back up the mountain. Have to admit that we haven’t experienced that yet. 😲

Rather than being an irritant, I find myself drawn to Mother Nature’s might. To sit in front of an aromatic peat fire, scotch or wine in hand, listening to the swirling gusts howl outside is magical. To stand in awe as this Hebridean wind whips the North Atlantic’s water into massive foamy surges who meet their crashing end on the west coast cliffs, to watch what are usually rhythmic waves morph into raging violent haphazard mountains of water which crash into each other offshore, to feel the salty wind assault your face and to scream to be heard over the thunderous roar of giant waves pounding ashore, is to be totally exhilarated.

RAIN! Put on your rain gear and just go is a philosophy that Jim and I adopted on our first trip to Scotland. Given Scotland’s annual rainfall, one could waste a whole trip sitting inside waiting for fair weather. Some of our most enjoyable days have been rainy ones. Did I mention that the Outer Hebrides are wetter than the mainland?

SKIES!  So breathtakingly dramatic that Jim and I freely admit to never having experienced anything like them.....anywhere! Given the strong winds, Hebridean skies are ever changing. One minute the horizon is filled with roiling black clouds menacingly advancing like an enemy army. The resultant torrential rains then give way to typical Scottish drizzle which when it abates leaves behind rather bleak skies and landscape. Just wait a moment, though, and the dull sky will be broken by a single spotlight beam of sunshine and will, on many occasions, treat you to a jaw-dropping rainbow.

Jim and I have discovered  an Outer Hebrides rich in history and experiences, populated by welcoming, intelligent, charming residents and overflowing with magnificent vistas. What we didn’t count on was that the weather would be one of the experiences we enjoyed the most.

As John Rushkin wrote, There really is no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.