To escape the wet, cold grey weather of Oregon I spent the last month traveling the islands of Trinidad, Tobago and a small portion of the coast of Venezuela. I visited an old friend, Mike Wagner who has spent the last 4 years working as an Petroleum engineer on the island of Trinidad. Mike took off some time from work and I toured around the islands hiking, snorkeling and kiteboarding.
Part of the time was spent in Port of Spain, the capital of Trinidad, for the carnival celebration. Port of Spain is the New Orleans of the Caribbean during Carnival with steal drums, crazy costumes, dancing in the streets, loud music and lots of drinking. The entire city parties as hard as I have ever seen during the carnival celebration. The majority of the trip I spent traveling the small, laid back island of Tobago by myself. The following is a page from my journal while traveling on the island. Kite gear in my backpack, I walk down the gravel road from the small Indian guesthouse. Sun burns my scalp at 8 in the morning, kids play cricket in a nearby field, goats, sheep and chickens pick at random things on the ground. I catch a lift from a taxi packed full of locals to the public beach on the wind beaten Atlantic side of the island. The ride costs 50 cents for both myself and my luggage. My oversize kite bag hangs precariously out of the open trunk of the cab. I am dropped off with a friendly wave of the hand and proceed to find shade under a coconut tree on the deserted, mostly undeveloped beach. While waiting for the wind to come up I eat a breakfast of fresh fruit and chocolate.
The water is brilliant blue to the horizon and waves break a mile out on the reef. The wind picks up to an acceptable level around 10 am. I pump up my kite and self launch in the sand. I am alone except for a few local kids playing in the waves just down the beach. I power up the kite and head out into the sea through the waist high shore break. The water is milky blue from a mixture of sand, wind and waves until I reach the reef and everything becomes crytal clear. I pass by a sea turtle that quickly ducks under the surface as I approach. Moments later I pass a slow moving plastic bag fish, a common site to most third world beaches. Just ahead of me the ocean’s swell approaches and makes contact with the shallow reef. The swell is quickly transformed into a see-through wall of water head high that approaches quickly. I turn my kite into the opposite direction and carve a turn on the wall, throwing a fan of spray into the air. Wind and gravity both pull me down the face of the wave as it breaks quickly behind me. Time stops and I feel like a small child with not a single care in the whole world.
