It was Tuesday morning. I awoke a little later than usual this morning in that the eastern sky was already showing the first light of dawn. As I sat on our verandah, the cool Caribbean breeze blew into our room behind me. The white sheer curtains flew into the room like gossamer streamers as the backdraft of the wind brought the aroma of the fresh brewing coffee in our room to my nose. I looked out at the pastel sky, somewhat sad as I realized that with only two days remaining, our time on Isla was growing short. Those thoughts quickly vanished as I heard Ritsuko stirring from her sleep. She got up and brought the pot of coffee to the verandah, giving me a sweet silent kiss and settling down in the other chair as we watched the sunrise begin. As the big red ball emerged on the horizon, I laughed out loud as the lyrics of a Laurie Anderson song popped into my mind:

“Sun coming up Like a big bald head. It’s Sharkey’s day. It’s Sharkey’s day today.”

I had no idea who Sharkey is or was, but this was surely to be our day, as was every day on Isla.

Our daily ritual began. A sumptuous breakfast at M&J, a stop at the supermarket, and walking back to the hotel making tracks in the sand along the seawall and Playa Media Luna. I love watching Ritsuko walk along the beach in the morning. When I look at her, she still reminds me the young girl I met so many years ago when I was a young man stationed in Japan. Giggling and running along the beach, she pointed out every bird, dog, and iguana track in the sand, recounting a possible scenario of the nighttime drama of the beachfront wildlife. It was like watching kabuki without the costumes.

The sun shone brightly in a the clear morning sky. We could already feel its relentless intensity as we walked along the edge of the Secreto pool; it was going to be a hot day. Returning to our room, we stocked away our newly purchased provisions and changed into beach attire.

Before long, we had gathered our beach paraphernalia, and headed out to Playa Norte, finding a shady spot outside the Maria del Mar fence. This had become our favorite place on the beach, and we had already decided that on our next trip, we would seriously consider staying at Maria del Mar so that we would be closer to the beach.

I always have felt a mystical connection to the sea, and every morning, walking onto Playa Norte, I have felt some form of revelation of that connection. Ritsuko and I went into the calm turquoise water, the gentle waves lapped at our bodies, as the intense sunlight broke into many colors as it shone upon the rippling, sparkling water. Ritsuko floated out into the water, and I followed, thinking of the lyrics to an old Byrds song:

“And when it's time I'll go and wait Beside a legendary fountain Till I see your form reflected In it's clear and jeweled waters And if you think I'm ready You may lead me to the chasm Where the rivers of our vision Flow into one another.”

We spent the morning just as we had spent almost every other morning of our vacation, moving from shade to sun, to water to sun to shade ... the line separating consciousness and dreams obscured ... we were so happy.

The sun was high in the noontime sky, its energy unobscured by clouds, bleaching the soft white sand. By now we had retreated under the shade of the palms, being careful not to rest under any mature coconuts. Leaving our sheets under the palms, we walked down to the Palapa Bar and Restaurant for a lunch of grilled shrimp. The little black female cat was with us once again to share our lunch. We all finished lunch satisfied. Ritsuko and I leaned back in our chairs, enjoying a cold cerveza in the shade of the palapa as we watched people playing in the water in front of us. The little cat slept on the cool concrete under our table.

Walking back to our sheets under the palms, we decided to gather our things and go back to the hotel for a shower and a nap. As we walked into the Secreto lobby, I glanced at the pool -- it looked so inviting. I looked at Ritsuko, who was also looking at the pool. Without saying a word, we walked out to the pool, dropped our beach paraphernalia, and jumped into the water with a big splash, waking a couple who were sleeping in their lounges under an umbrella ... oh well, there goes the neighborhood. We splashed about in the deep end of the pool, diving to the bottom like little kids, and finally hanging shoulder to shoulder onto the sea side edge of the pool gazing into the amazing turquoise sea for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes.

Tired from our day of relaxation, we returned to the room for a siesta. One shortcoming of the design of the rooms at Secreto is that there is no way to have fresh air circulation in the room without leaving the entry door open. It would have been wonderful if there were a transom over the door, or louvers on the door so that we could enjoy the cool Caribbean breeze through the room during our siesta.

Refreshed and re-energized, we returned to Playa Norte in the late afternoon. As we walked out onto the beach in front of Buho’s, Ritsuko waved to a man who was standing in thigh deep water, “that’s Kevin from Iowa”, she said. I recognized him from a couple of nights ago. I had seen him and his wife sitting at a table outside Isla Tequila really getting into the music. I recall having leaned over to Ritsuko that night and telling her, “now there is a man who really enjoys good music.” Ritsuko had met them the day before at Secreto as she waited for the rain to pass.

Ritsuko introduced me to Kevin, and then to his lovely wife Sharon, who was enjoying the sun at the water’s edge. Ritsuko and Sharon talked as Kevin and I waded out a bit into the sea, trading stories about our experiences on Isla, this being a first trip for both of us. As we stood in the shallow water, a barracuda swam by us at lightning speed, almost brushing against our legs. Stepping back, Kevin stepped on a coin (a ten peso coin if I recall accurately) in the sand at his feet. Retrieving it, Kevin held it in his hand as we both stared at the coin. Marveling at the sand covered coin, I couldn’t help but think that somehow it must have been a sign of the barracuda. Kevin decided to take it into town the next day and have it made into a necklace.

We then all retired to the bar at Buho’s for some cerveza and nachos, where we sat until sunset, sharing stories, consuming cerveza, and enjoying a beautiful Isla sunset.

Kevin and I agreed that the best thing in town at the time was the ten peso beer specials and live music at Isla Tequila, so after returning to our rooms to change, we all met later that night at Isla Tequila, where the band was rocking and the beer was cheap and cold. Kevin and I like a lot of the same music, so it is no wonder that we were both drawn to this place. We all had a great time that night, drinking, dancing, and laughing until the band was finished for the night.

Thanking the band for a night of great entertainment, we went our separate ways, calling it a night, and a very good night at that.