Trust The Process
or How I Enjoyed Grand Cayman
We went to Grand Cayman for winter break. We’ve never been so it was an adventure with checked luggage, new/updated passports, and driving on the other side of the road. Also cats, sting rays, and Sabrina Carpenter.
But that’s later.
Upon arrival, the guy at the car rental gave me three pieces of advice…
- Look right.
- Drive left
- Ignore the tire pressure warning, the sensor is faulty.
The car we got was a Jeep with the steering wheel on the left hand side.
Note: This is NOT what you want as you have lean forward in order to look past your navigator to see what’s coming on the right.
My navigator, by the way, was Pam and she was GREAT. Truly great. Calm (mostly), cool (mostly), and reading things out loud on Google Maps before they showed up in real life. She reminded me to always stay wide when making a right turn and to give way (yield) at the roundabout.
The roundabout (Dante’s first circle of extreme anxiety) was tricky. You need to trust the process, which eventually I learned to do. But I should have told Pam from the get go that when I asked, “Left?” to just say, “Correct” instead of “Right.” (Of course, I soon understood the difference between “Right” and “RIGHT RIGHT!”)
Fun Fact: The Jeep didn’t come with a rear view camera. Not sure if that’s a Jeep thing or this particular one was an older model. But the screen at the center of the console was just a radio. Whenever I had to reverse I felt like I was back in high school, except I couldn’t turn my neck as far.
Fun Fact: I wasn’t able to plug in my phone for my special island playlist, so we listened to terrestrial radio, specifically 96.5 Cayrock — which did, in fact, ROCK. A lot of Led Zeppelin, Foghat, and John Cougar.
We stayed at an Airbnb. That’s how we like to do it these days. We like the home away from home vibe. Our base was a very nice three bedroom near Georgetown that overlooked Crawl Bay. The A/C was controlled by an Ecobee that also played music. Everything was beige or off-white. Very Pottery Barn. At one point the door handle in the back came off, but there was a dead bolt and someone came to fix it the next day. No big. It was a very nice house. No complaints.
A stray neighborhood cat adopted us; a British shorthair, which in this case was an orange tabby with a round face and medium tail. She showed up everyday in the mornings and afternoons on the back deck for pets and ear scratches. She liked to crawl up on our laps and make biscuits; very much the opposite of our own cat who we adopted and barely tolerates us. When it first showed up, Judah asked me its name.
“Glen,” I said.
“How do you know?”
“It looks like a Glen.”
“But it’s a female,” said Nola.
“I know,” I said not actually knowing. “And it likes to stay close to us, which makes sense because it’s named after the actress Glenn Close.”
“Hmmm,” said Nola knowingly but not really because I don’t think she knows there really is an actress named Glenn Close.
But I digress.
It must be a thing with tropical islands, but there are wild chickens EVERYWHERE on Grand Cayman. And judging by the lack of rooster road kill, they must be smarter than squirrels. Of course, I did observe one cox-combed fellow peck at a pebble, pick it up, and put it down several times; as if it were thinking, “Huh, can I eat this?” And then “Huh, can I eat this?” And then, “Huh, can I eat this?”
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Gah! I digress again!
We got groceries at the Hurley. I thought there might be more local Caribbean brands, but no. It was like shopping at the Jewell except everything was slightly/considerably more expensive. Mostly we had breakfast and lunch at home. For dinner we’d just find a place. One night we went out to the Cracked Conch for some fine dining. We don’t do a lot of fine dining as a family, but this place totally nailed the fancy dinner plate ratio where the lip is like a football field and the well holds just a few spoonful of food. (Think Olive Garden but opposite.) I got the snapper. I don’t usually get the snapper so I can’t tell you if it was better or worse than other snapper. I did think it was good. So were Judah’s chicken tenders. And the desserts were noticeably beautiful AND tasty.
We went to a beach almost every day. My family LOVES the beach. The sun, the sand, the surf. I like the beach, too, but I find it very sandy. And sticky… which is a combo I don’t really cotton to. But I like to get out in the water and swim. I like to swim out to the far far buoy, which is something my dad always did. He may have actually swam out past the far far buoy, which drove my mother crazy. I stick to the buoys because Pam has already given me the ‘look’ AND the ’talk’.
We went on excursions each day. Stingray City was a highlight. We chartered a boat that took us out to the middle of West Bay to an enormous sandbar, which was only three or feet deep. Very manageable, even for Judah. Around this large sandbar were several anchored boats just like ours, also full of tourists. And then all over the sandbar were small fish. And TONS and TONS and TONS of sting rays. Some big, some small. But all like overgrown portobello mushrooms with long whiplike tails.
And tame. These wild creatures swimming freely about the sea (where there are no cages or fences) are apparently tame. Our captain/tour guide got in the water and showed us how to hold and pet them. Because yes, you can hold them. And pet them. And feed them from your hand. Also kiss them. Not French kiss, that’s too much. But like Judah, you can give them a little peck on the top of their head area. And according to the Caymanians, it’s 7 years good luck, so…
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
“Oh, you’re in luck, big man,” said Captain Vernon handling a large black sting ray and encouraging me to step forward. “We got a special one here! This is Darth Vader!”
“The force is strong with this one, huh?”
“Yes! Very strong! Here, take this. You can feed him.”
I took the handful of dead fish flesh from Vernon and put it underwater whereupon Darth Vader immediately nuzzled up to my palm and took it from me like a wee baby deer.
Note: Caribbean sting rays have a spike on their tail — which can ’sting’ you. It’ll hurt, but they’re not like the Australian sting rays that can kill you. I’ve never seen a sting ray in real life before. Or held one. I would describe them as wet and flappy.
Note: I will also say that the portobello descriptor is pretty accurate. The difference is that they don’t fall apart if you rub them too much.
We went to several different public beaches, which are somehow more private than the private beaches in front of the resorts where people are all lined up in rows and rows of chairs. I only know this because I saw it with my own eyes and was so glad we were NOT at any kind of resort.
I like my space.
That said, I like to help others. I have no problem waiting patiently and holding a door open or if I see some poor dude struggling with the chairs, the towels, the floaties, AND the umbrella — to offer a helping hand. Selfishly it makes ME feel good, like I’m a good helper.
Also, as some of you may know, I take a LOT of photos. I LOVE snapping pictures. I’m not saying I’m a great photographer, but I’m pretty solid. (Well, the secret is that I take A LOT so there’s bound to be something good in there.)
Understand I’m just talking about the iPhone — because the best camera you’ll ever use is the one you have with you — and the iPhone is what I always have with me; just like everyone else. So, for example, when we went on the bioluminescent tour (kayaking through glowing plankton) and I saw a dad trying to get a selfie with his family, I offered my services.
“You want one all together,” I asked.
“Oh, no, we’re good,” he said.
“You should let him,” said Pam stepping in. “He’s really good.”
“I don’t know about that,” I said with false modesty. “But I can get a couple shots for you.”
I got some shots for the family, but that’s neither here nor there. I like to be helpful and take photos. That’s all you have to know.
We were at Governor’s Beach. There’s trees and sand and everything, but it can be a little rocky. And again, it’s a public beach with not too many people. And as it was Christmas or the day after Christmas (Boxing Day), there was even less people. Maybe thirty altogether. Some families, a few couples.
There was one couple near us. She was blonde, maybe in her twenties, possibly her late teens. The dude seemed older with dark hair. Both were pretty fit. Attractive. That’s all I really noticed. But Nola couldn’t stop staring at them.
“Nola,” I said quietly with a furrowed brow. “What’re you doing?”
“That’s Sabrina Carpenter.”
In a lineup of blonde women in their twenties or late teens, I would not be able to pick out Sabrina Carpenter. I’ve heard of her. I know she’s a singer. But I don’t know what she sings or what she looks like. As a proud GenX member, I guess I’m also a new Old.
“Ok, well, don’t stare.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Be cool.”
I stole a few looks myself. The blonde woman in the baby blue bikini did not seem to be a world famous pop star with billions of streams who opens for Taylor Swift. But again, I wouldn’t know.
“Are you sure,” I whispered.
“YES,” Nola yell whispered.
“Fine, just be cool.”
“Da-ad!”
“Sweetie,” I said in a low but direct whisper. “She’s just a person. Like us. She’s on vacation. She just wants to be. Don’t stare.”
Nola rolled her yes.
“C’mon,” I said getting up. “Let’s get in the water.”
Nola grabbed a few more looks before running across the wet sand and diving into the surf.
“It’s so nice,” she shrieked coming up for air.
I’m slow to fully embrace the waves, even the small ones gently lapping at the shore. I tend to go in slow and do not like to be splashed. I took a step. And then another.
“C’mon!” Nola shouted.
“No,” I yelled as I eyed Nola pulling her hand back along the surface. “Do NOT splash!”
“Get in!”
For the moment Nola forgot about Sabrina. She had the full attention of her dad. And once I was fully in, she could easily get me to swim with her all the way out to the buoy, the far one. Maybe even the far far one.
Pam missed all this because she was with Judah. They were a short way down the beach building some sort of sand castle with a tunnel that would eventually self-destruct with the tide.
I was still ‘getting in’ with all of Nola’s taunting and teasing. But I noticed how our commotion had seemingly got Sabrina’s attention. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her and her paramour get up and walk toward the beach. Right where we were. And this, of course, got Nola’s attention.
“Da-ad,” she yell whispered with a nod toward the approaching couple.
“Be. Cool.”
As the father of a teen girl, I find it important to stay in my lane. I don’t comment on makeup, dress length, or crop tops. I am unilaterally… cool. So I had it in my head to SHOW Nola what it is to BE cool.
I didn’t turn my head when they stood only a few feet from us. I didn’t acknowledge them at all. I stood in the water with all my attention focused on Nola. But Nola could not look away from Sabrina and her gentleman caller, who were clearly at the water’s edge to grab a selfie.
I decided to show Nola that celebrities, as seen in any Us Weekly, are ‘just like us’.
“Oh, hey,” I said turning to the blonde woman and dark haired man. “You want me to get that for you?”
“That’d be great,” said the man, who had an Irish accent. And then he took Sabrina’s iPhone from her and handed it to me in my left hand. I’m left handed. That is, I write with my left, but full disclosure — I pretty much do everything else with my right. Still, my left hand is pretty handy.
“Something with the beach in the background, mate,” said the man who guided Sabrina a few steps deeper.
“No prob.”
Sabrina could feel Nola staring at her, so she turned to her and smiled. “Hi.”
Nola raised her small hand. “Hi.” And then she added, “He’s a really good photographer.”
I smiled and shrugged my shoulders.
“Cool,” said Sabrina smiling and turning to me. “Do you know where the bathrooms are?”
As a dad, I’m hyper aware of publicly available bathrooms. Like the other day they were in the pastel colored structure when you first got past the parking lot. Nothing fancy, but there was running water. Here at Governor’s Beach were the blue Portalets near the trees. Serviceable, but probably gross. Still, I’d scoped out the mall across the street as we drove past looking for parking. I knew there was something on the ground floor by the stairs.
“There are those,” I said gesturing with the phone to the Kybos. “But you probably want the mall over there,” I said gesturing to the mall. But since the mall was further away, I gestured harder. And by gesturing harder, the phone slipped out of my hand. But it didn’t slip as much as it flew. Maybe I was a little amped up showing off in front of Nola, or maybe it was aerodynamics and heft of the phone, but it REALLY took off. It landed about 20 feet away on one of the rocks jutting out of the water. But it didn’t really land as much as it bounced off. And it didn’t bounce off as much as it sprang. It hit hard and sprang high. You could hear the face of the phone crack and grind into dust as it popped up into the air before flipping several times and then plunking into the water. What was interesting about the plunk is that there were no more sounds after that. It was as if the world had suddenly fallen into a vacuumed silence. And, of course, time stopped. It stopped for about 4 seconds — which is actually a long time for time to come to a total standstill. We were all staring at where the phone had disappeared under the water.
“I’m so sorry,” I said as the world started up again and the sound came back on. “I am so-”
“OH MY GOD,” screamed Sabrina, her face bright red and fierce. “YOU STUPID M*********ING C*******ER!”
Time stopped again — just for a second. We were all sort of taken aback by how loud Sabrina was. Like she was REALLY loud. I’m not a talent scout, but she clearly has a gift. Also we were surprised by her vulgarity. At least I was. It seemed a little TOO extreme. I mean, I get it, it’s a phone. Phones are expensive and contain valuable personal information. I get it. But really? M***********G C********R? Plus, if you stop to think about ‘M***********G C********R’ — like really stop and think — it’s a very weird pansexual slur, right? There’s a lot to unpack.
“Easy, Bree,” said the man. “It was just an accident.”
“My phone, Bar! Not yours!”
“Babe, you got it when we left LA two days ago because you lost the one you got last month and if I remember corr-“
“Do not go there! I swear to god, Barry, do NOT go there! I will tear you a new one I swear to god!”
It was as if Nola and I weren’t there. I felt bad about the phone, but I felt worse watching them bicker and fight. I slowly backed away and took Nola with me to where the phone was resting underwater. The waters of the Grand Cayman are very clear. It was easy to find the phone, which was actually still on. The screen, though, was intricately and densely spiderwebbed.
“Hey,” I said in a sing song way as if I hadn’t been aware of all their slashing and burning.
Sabrina and Barry stopped tearing into each other to look over at me and Nola. I held up the phone.
“It, uh, works,’ I said looking at the phone. “You should probably put it rice, though. I’m happy-”
“Rice?!” said Sabrina. “The f***?!”
“It helps dry it out I think. Absorbs the moisture or, regardless, I’m happy to pay for a new screen. I-”
“YOU BET YOUR F*****G A** YOU STUPID M***********G C********R!”
“Ma’am,” I said as firmly and gently as I could. “Could you please refr-”
“DON’T YOU F****** MA’AM ME!”
“Jesus, babe,” interrupted Barry. “His kid is right there. You got to chill, babe!”
“OH MY F****** GOD, BARRY!”
Sabrina turned and stomped out of the water. Splash splash splash and out onto the sand. Barry looked at me and shrugged. “Sorry, mate.”
“No, dude,” I said walking over with the phone. “I’m sorry.”
“It happens.”
“I can give you my name and-”
“No, don’t worry about it. She’s got AppleCare. This isn’t the first time.”
I gestured to the rock and the waves we were standing in.
“Right,” said Barry with a laugh. “She hasn’t thrown one into the sea.” And then quickly added, “Yet.”
I smiled. Barry smiled. And then he looked at me and Nola. “You have a nice holiday.”
“You, too.”
We watched Barry walk up the beach to the parking lot. I turned to find Pam staring up at me from the sand. She shrugged as if to say ‘what the hell was that about’ to which I shrugged back ‘I don’t even know’.
Turns out Grand Cayman is a small island because the next day we saw Bree and Bar at Starfish Point. They were just leaving so it wasn’t a thing. But then we saw them again at the Crystal Cave tour two days later. (I know! WHUT?!) I wanted to go up as say something, but it was clear from body language and ‘vibes’ Sabrina wanted NOTHING to do with me. Maybe she was embarrassed, maybe she was still angry. Dunno. But Barry politely waved me off as if to say, “No, mate, you don’t want any part of this.” So I gathered Pam and the kids to hang back and we took the next bus.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Fun Fact: The Crystal Cave tour is not really a tour as much as you kinda walk into a cave and try not to touch anything. And it’s not so much that there are any crystals as much as there are stalactites, stalagmites, and bats. (All cool stuff, though.)
Fun Fact: Stalactites hold ‘tight’ to the ceiling and stalagmites ‘might’ make it all the way to the top. #themoreyouknow
Last day we walked around Georgetown poking in and out of shops looking for souvenirs. Mostly it was the same stuff over and over. In the end Nola got a snow globe, Judah got a shot glass, I got a shirt, and Pam got nothing. (That’s how we roll.)
I highly recommend Grand Cayman. It’s a beautiful island. It felt safe, clean. The people were friendly. (So was at least one cat.) We did very touristy things. Going back again I’d do more cultural things to get to know more about the island and its history. And if you’re going to be spending any time around water, I recommend getting a waterproof case for your phone.
Final Fun Fact: The guy at the car rental was right on all three counts. The tires were fine.
Disclaimer: Each year around New Years I share an April Fool’s story. No one asks me to do this. I just do it. I think it’s funny. I try to make the story seem like it really happened. It usually involves a family vacation or a celebrity or Pam getting really really drunk. It’s ALWAYS made up. This year we did go on vacation to Grand Cayman. We actually went with another family. We stayed at an Airbnb together and it was all great. (They are still on speaking terms with us.) Before we left Chicago Nola said she was downloading some Sabrina Carpenter songs and at the beach a few days later I saw someone drop their phone into the water. I also overheard someone using those swear words at the airport. That’s the Usual Supsects origin of my story. I started writing on the airplane back home and trusted the process that it would all come together. Hopefully it did.
If you got this far, thank you for reading. I truly appreciate your time. I hope you had (are having) a great holiday break and that you have a happy healthy new year ahead of you.
✌🏼❤️💪🏼
