Reflections From Peter and Sam

My son Samuel and I recently spent a week on Sila, sailing the British Virgin Islands with the Barnes family.  We are neighbors and friends from Leadville.  The experience was truly remarkable, save for one near brush with death.  More on that in a moment.  But first, some quick reflections.

This will not come as news to those of you who have camped with Molly and Christopher, but they can flat out cook in the most limited of kitchen environments.  We positively feasted on the boat—calzones, pineapple crumble, waffles, nightly cookies, you name it.  Moreover, Molly stirs a mighty fine rum and tonic.  Happy Hour on Sila is not to be missed.

As for Porter and Jack, they are two remarkable kids gaining an amazing life experience.   I can't help but marvel at the way they've transitioned into this new life—from the vast open space of Leadville's East Side to the self-contained world of Sila.  They are both so articulate about their experiences so far–quick with a tale and ready with a laugh.  And as you observe them nimbly scurry about the boat, performing all the tasks associated with sailing, it is clear that they are well on their way to piloting the boat solo.  Two worldly-wise and skilled sailors they will be.

And now to my brush with death.  Snorkeling, of course, was a focus of the trip.  Every day we explored a new bay or sailed to a renowned diving spot.  Sam quickly became a natural.   I could usually get a few good minutes in before my mask started filling with water. (Note to men: lose the facial hair before you go; beards equal bad seals).  As a result, I was constantly fiddling with my mask to drain the water.  No Jacque Cousteau here.

So there I was in Oil Nut Bay, in perhaps ten feet of water, completing another awkward round of mask-draining contortions.  As I re-attached the mask and dipped my head back into the water, there was Death—floating motionless right in front of me.   I'm sorry, but when you're from landlocked Colorado, where your familiarity with water creatures consists primarily of five-inch trout, coming face to face with a Southern Stingray is a moment of great and very rapid reckoning. 

With my scrawny legs flippering as fast as they could, I managed to swim to the side—at which point the ray flapped his Stealth Bomber wings, gave a wave of his ominous tail, and glided past me.  In his elegance he seemed to be saying, "Sure I could have killed you, but it was reward enough just to watch you wet yourself in the ocean."

In truth, this creature probably posed about as much threat as the above-mentioned trout. A more likely cause of injury would have been from repeatedly hitting my head on all the low spots in the boat's cabin.  Nonetheless, should you be fortunate enough to catch up with Sila, I advise you to stay on deck with the rum and tonics, and leave the snorkeling to the more skilled, brave and adventurous among us—the 10 and 11 year-olds.

And now some thoughts from Sam.

Today I woke up to gray skies and snow in Leadville, Colorado. It is hard to believe that five days ago I was waking up on Sila in the Caribbean. It was a very cool experience having the Barnes family take us around the British Virgin Islands to all of the incredible snorkeling spots such as the Caves, the Dogs, and the Indians. Jack and Porter were great instructors in teaching me how to snorkel. When we were not snorkeling, we spent time diving and doing flips off of Sila. Occasionally Christopher would set up the "Tarzan Swing" which was a rope swing off the mast.

After dinner, if we were in a good harbor, we would shine a powerful light off the transom (the back of the boat) and the light would attract hundreds of minnows that we would try to net. Occasionally a big fish would drop by. They were only shadows, but you could often distinguish the shape of a Tarpon or Barracuda. On the last day, Christopher hoisted me up the mast. It was a bit scary at first, but I quickly got used to it. My week with the Barnes family on Sila was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. - Peter and Sam Frykholm; Leadville, Colorado 

(photos to follow when Sila has a stronger wifi connection)