I skip up the runway to the magnificent and behemothic Carnival cruise ship. My brother and I race up the stairwell with joy and excitement gleaming in our eyes and my mom and dad trailing behind. We show our cruise cards to the guard and he lets us in. My eyes widen as I step into the grandiose lobby. Sublime chandeliers tower above and shops and restaurants surround me. My parents walk us to the elevators; they are the most glorious and palatial elevators I have ever seen. We exit and stroll to our room on the “Spa” deck. We all glance at each other and smile. I slide the card through the lock and we open up the door to a two bed, one bath room. My parents take a look at the room and were probably thinking, “Ehh. Could be better.” But my brother and I stare lovingly at the grand and incredible bunk bed. We shriek with joy and play rock paper scissors for who gets the top bed. He wins. For a moment I feel down but that all goes away when my mom opens up the blinds. I gaze at the gorgeous, teal sea of San Juan. “Wow,” is what I managed to sputter before jumping around. After settling in, we head over to the dinner halls and have a delectable and fancy dinner and dessert. Then, we make our way for the neighboring islands St. Thomas and St. John.

I step out on the port in St. Thomas. The old-fashioned and beautiful city lies in front of us. We walk down the boardwalk, with natives selling  jewelry and fruits. My dad gazes out at all the catamarans and party boats. A group of people catches his eye and nods his head toward the crowd and we walk over. We check the sign next to the catamarans which reads, “Champagne Catamaran Excursion”. “This is it guys,” my dad says. A man greets us with, “Welcome to the excursion, Americans; please take a life jacket and board the boat.” The man obviously had a heavy Jamaican accent. We smile and take an orange life jacket and board the boat. We plop down on a bench and my mom takes out the dreaded sunscreen. She puts a blob of the white liquid and drapes it over my brothers forearm. I shudder and use the spray screen. The ship then starts to move and we head for sea.
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About half an hour later, the ship slows down. I gaze down at the navy blue sea, not able to see a centimeter below the surface of the water. “All right people,” a host says. “We will be snorkeling to the beach over there.” The tourists all stick their heads out the boat in unison. My dad slips flippers onto my feet. I stand up and take a step before tripping and slamming onto the wood floor. I grip the side of the boat and cautiously move toward the edge of the ship. I see my dad and my brother already diving in the water and snorkeling their way to the destination. I finally reach the edge and slip on my snorkel goggles. I hop in the water. “This is the warmest water I have ever been in,” I think to myself. I slip the long tube in my mouth and breath in a whole mouthful of saltwater. I cough and sputter. I try to breath but I’m too scared of getting another disgusting swig of the saltwater. I breath one more time. This time, I breath in the ocean air. Suddenly, this all seems so easy. I breaststroke my way toward white beach.
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3 hours later, I relax on the bench, with a glass of cool, refreshing Coca-Cola. My mom sips champagne and my dad has rum punch. We make our way back to the port after a wonderful time at the beach. I lay back and state, “This is a good start to my vacation,”

After a delicious dinner of Seafood and pie, along with a few shanties sung by the waiters and cooks, we head back to the room and go to bed, with the moon gleaming in the sky, and the gentle waves rocking us to sleep.

After a day at sea, we arrive at the island north-east of Trinidad and Tobago, Barbados. The climate is quite similar to St. Thomas. We walk down the ramp of the ship and peer at the looming island. Barbadians walk up and down the rickety streets. We walk down the boardwalk until we spot the sign that reads, Excursions up ahead. We walk to a building with several doors with different excursions labeled above. The chattering of tourists and scent of sunscreen fill the air. I adjust my Oakleys as we wait in line for the excursion, “Tiami Sail”. We load into the catamaran and take a seat in the front of the ship.

When everyone loads onto the boat, a tour guide stands up on a ramp and gives the agenda for this expedition in the Atlantic ocean. We relax with pop music lightly playing in the background. After an hour at sea, with trickles of saltwater brushing against me, the ship gradually slows down. The attendant has to give me a life jacket because of height, which angers me for I can swim as well as my dad, but I shrug and move toward the drop off point. I slip on the snorkel gear and plunge into the water. I gaze at the fish scuttling around with sea anemone and plants sway with the ocean. I glance to my right to find 3 sea turtles gliding through the mild current. I almost lose my breath in excitement. I lackadaisically drift and stare down at the florescent colors below me. Below me is a slithering and devious Eel, about the size of 6 Subway sandwiches lined up. My brother chuckles through his mask as he swims up next to me. I glare at him as he swims toward the ship. He murmured something but the only word I could make out was,”Hungry”. “I agree,” I said to myself as we head back, with fish swimming side by side with us.

It starts to rain as we head back to port. Kind of ruins the end of the excursion, but the fruit punch and sandwiches cheer me up. We thank the guides and walk back onto the ship. We walk on the pool deck and head to a deli. I have a delicious smoked salmon bagel with cream cheese and capers. It is true what they say, a cruise ship is where you can get some of most exotic and luscious food.

After yet another savory dinner, we check the electronic map, showing the ship’s next stop. We all get excited when we spot the ship’s trajectory. It’s heading for St. Lucia.

I gaze up at the protracted bus and trot up the steps and into it. It is a beautiful and humid day in St. Lucia and the luscious green palm trees tower above us. We take a seat on the fluffy chairs, as a woman stands up at the front of the bus. She gives us the agenda and we head off!
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We stop and a small market, with locals carrying fresh grains and vegetables. We exit the bus and the woman tells us that we can take a look around and meet back in 30 minutes. I walk over to man selling a rather strange brew. He gazes up at me and says, “Hello sir. Would you like some banana ketchup?” I c*** my head in confusion, taking in the words, “banana ketchup”. I shrug and taste a fingertip of the native sauce. It has a rather sweet yet tomatoey taste to it and I nod my head with delight and smile. I run over to my parents and ask them to try the delicious brew. My mom kind of gives me a confused look, almost the same as mine before, but my dad confidently strolls up to the man and takes a hunk of the ketchup and gulps it whole.
After a couple hours of hiking and exploring terrain, the bus takes us to a busy dock with a plethora of ships, either out at sea or docked. We all cheer. The guide tells to take all of our stuff. We exit the bus and walk down a path to a boat waiting for us.

The boat greets us with a herby and zesty smell. We load onto the boat to see a colossal amount of Mediterranean food. My mouth instantly waters, with enough spit to fill the Grand Canyon. My dad looks ravenous, like he hasn’t eaten in 20 days. I rush over to snatch a plate and fork and spoon in marinated chicken and piquant bread.

I slouch in a chair, now with a small potbelly after a filling and delectable meal while the boat swiftly moves through the mild current. I move up to the front of the boat to scan the landscape, and up ahead I spot a beach. But it isn’t the usual white sand beach. Darkish maroon sand awaits us. I glance to the side of the boat to see a young man hop of the side of the boat into the turquoise ocean. I look at my brother and give a smug grin as I run and jump off the ship. I plunge into the water and make my way back to the surface. I stick my head out, feeling refreshed. I plunge back into the water to only jump back out in fear. Down below, lies the mysterious and strange Manta Ray. I have seen them before at SeaWorld, but now it is twice as scary. I look over to find my brother staring at it. He looks at me and tells me to move on. We swim to a rocky area with small fish moving swiftly in the water. I spot my dad in the same vicinity. He waves me over to his spot. I tilt my head to find a Pufferfish. Startled, I lose my breath and swim back to the top. I cough out saltwater and sluggishly make my way to the beach. I drag myself up the red beach and plop down next to my mom. I gaze at the horizon, still with a fluorescent peach color. I lie down on a blanket and rest on the warm and comforting sand.

The ship gives off its boisterous horn, rather like an old car horn from the 1930’s. I get out of the pool and carefully walk down the smooth wooden floor, easy to slip on, to see the island of St. Kitts. I dry myself off and run back to my room. I scramble into the bedroom to find my brother and my mom still lying in bed. Turns out, they are too tired to go on a excursion today, so my dad and I decide to go by ourselves.

We arrive at the dock for the Junket, with some familiar faces from other excursions. The seawater near the port is rather polluted, muddy green and gives off a foul smell. As in the past excursions, they give us a life jacket and we stroll onto the small yacht, wait for the instructions and head for our snorkeling destination.

The ride over is rather rough and feels like an airplane during turbulence. Today is cloudy and it is still in the mid 90s. I gaze to my left to find a half sunk, rusty ship, perhaps a gondola. Passengers whisper in awe and in curiosity. We slow down and a man’s voice coming through speakers states, “Do not snorkel into the sunken ship. We do not want to send the Coast Guard to get you out of there.” I hurriedly put on my gear, ready to explore the ship. I am now a master of walking with flippers, as I swiftly dive into the water. We are nowhere near a beach, so the ocean is rather deep. Colorful fish swim with me as I glide through the water toward the ship. I arrive, with others staring at it’s burnt orange exterior, my dad swims up next to me as his eyes widen through his transparent snorkel lenses. We tread water for a while, watching fish and sea creatures enter the ship. I lie on my back, half in the water, half on the surface. I gaze at the gray sky, while native birds fly above. I pose like a starfish and float in the water, with my eyes closed, enjoying the warm water sliding under me.

Today is the last day. Though I am somber, I am excited about the last excursion. I have my final breakfast of eggs benedict, pancakes and passion fruit juice. I have my final dip in the pool. At about 10:00, we depart  the cruise ship to the port of St. Martin, or St Maarten, Martin is the English spelling and Maarten the native spelling. We walk down the street, passing markets and shops. We arrive at the excursion building and wait in line in behind the sign that reads, “Golden Eagle Excursion”. We receive our tickets and load onto the boat.  The guides are pleasant as they explain our agenda for today. “Another great day for snorkeling,” my dad says as he gazes at the radiant sun. We take off across the ocean, with the water flying in the air from the motors stabbing the seawater with great force. We arrive at a beach, and I put on my swimming and run over to the back of the ship and hop off. I plunge into the water, with fish scuttling away in fear and swim toward the beach. The ground quickly rises until my back is on the surface and the sand is inches from my face. I rise from the water and lie down on the beach. I take off my goggles, which leave red marks near my eyes and dunk them in the water to eliminate the fog. I gaze out at the sea, with seagulls circling in the sky, the sun gleaming and the horizon a tropical yellow, I glance at my brother, who picks up a magnificent seashell and places it in his pocket. My dad dives through the waves, checking out tropical fish and my mom relaxing on the beach. I gaze out at the sea and say to myself, “I am going to miss this.”