Private Paradise
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” says Marge Halloran as we share a bench on a tender carving a white wake through a cobalt sea from Carnival Triumph to the island. Hailing from Toms River, New Jersey, Marge and husband Walter are taking a belated 30th wedding anniversary cruise. And like me, they’ve caught a glimpse of the island from the ship. The view is of a shallow turquoise bay framed by a broad, two-mile curve of gloriously empty, sumptuously alabaster sand beach. To the rear, coconut palms rise above a riot of tropical greenery. Inland, sunlight glitters off the azure surface of Bone Fish Lagoon. Once home to a nest of pirates, Half Moon Cay is now preserved as a Wild Bird Reserve by the Bahamian National Trust.
Less than 2 percent—45 acres—of the low,
green island is developed, and Carnival
guests get exclusive run of that. But what a
45 acres!
Our tender docks at the Welcome Center
and Pavilion, which is convincingly built
to look like a laid-back West Indies Village.
We immediately lose a few cruise mates
to the straw-roof market and gift shop,
the Rumrunners Bar and The Cold Spot,
which is serving up scoops of Ben and
Jerry’s Ice Cream. Others head off for
massages or to get their hair braided
Bahamian-style. The rest of us rapidly fan
out to indulge in a day in paradise.
Many never make it farther than the blue
chaise lounges parked in the sand. Still
others claim beach hammocks swinging in
the lacy shade of Casuarina pines, where
pairs of little island doves perch to watch
the party.
Sand, Surf and Stingrays
At the beach, there’s an immediate explosion of activity. Kids splash in the shallows, parasailers rise above the bay, the sherbet- hued sails of Hobie Cats and Sunfish whisk across the clear water, kayaks glide and yellow water bikes churn. Far out on the water, Carnival Triumph holds court majestically on its anchor, posing for countless snapshots. Along the shore near the village, the Caribbean Ecstasy calypso band breaks into a party beat under the palm-frond roof of the aptly named I Wish I Could Stay Here Forever Bar. Those of us who have signed up for much anticipated shore excursions go our separate ways. The Hallorans board a glass-bottom boat for an eco-lagoon tour during which Marge, a science teacher, sees a never-to-be-forgotten giant starfish. Walter finds himself mesmerized by the many lovely shades of blue the sea dons as it steps from shallow to deep water. Inland, a winding line of cruisers on horseback disappears into the sea grape trees and cocoberry shrubs to climb the island’s high point. Afterward
they’ll take a trot
through the surf. A
boatload of enthusiastic
anglers heads
for the open ocean in
quest of the big one.
A Whole New Ray
I grab the shuttle for the Stingray Encounter in the lagoon. In advance of this cruise, I signed up to snorkel with stingrays. It seemed like a grand idea back home. Less so now. And I can see some other nervous tics among my dozen mates in this encounter group. Not to worry, though, says our guide Felicia McIntosh. “They’re very gentle,” explains the Bahamian native as we peer down into a penned-off corner of the lagoon where 14 of the graceful mammals loiter on the bottom. Some are at least 3 feet from wing tip to wing tip (and females can grow to a span of 6 feet). As I step down a ladder into the water, it immediately becomes clear Felicia has neglected to reveal one bit of information: These stingrays are as friendly as puppies. I stand very, very still as several of the rays wrap their big wings around me and stare up with unblinking eyes. Felicia laughs and gives me a small squid so I can feed my new friends.
She grabs a big ray, lifts it up with its
belly and mouth facing outward and
laughs heartily again as the creature spits a
curl of water at me like a kid playing games
in the swimming pool. Soon we’re all in
the water getting mobbed.
Sublime Picnic Offerings
I’m amazed at the huge spread our ship’s
chefs have brought for lunch. It’s surely the
biggest picnic in the Caribbean, and we all
dig into platters of jerk chicken, burgers,
cold salads, fruit, cookies and cakes.
We dine under shady arbors. Tiny yellow
Bananaquit birds alight on the picnic
tables and stare sternly until we feed them.
Underfoot, a flock of jaunty black chickens
mills about. The rooster crows for bites.
Afterward, I drift over to watch the
calypso band. Happy cruisers weave, bob
and snap their fingers.
Denise Williams of Cleveland takes a
dance break and I compliment her moves. “I have my fun and so do they,” she says,
pointing at the seven other dancing
women she’s vacationing with. “I love every
single cruise.” Wish We Were There
Marge, Walter and I reminisced on the
phone the other day about starfish,
stingrays, chickens and that incredible
sugar sand. We talked about the numerous
pictures we took and all of our other
adventures on the cruise. We agreed Half
Moon Cay held its own very special place
in our memories. “It was magnificent,” Walter tells me, still
marveling at those many shades of blue
water he loved. “Half Moon Cay was my absolute favorite
place on the entire cruise,” Marge says. “I
would go back in a second.”
Me too, Marge. Me too.
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