beach

I like to go to the beach for a few hours every weekend to at least get in a swim and to get out of the air conditioning.


The guys here are very nice, setting up my chair for me. The beach has umbrellas made out of palm tree bark that look to be over 100 years old but are probably replaced every few months. If a spark landed on one it would likely incinerate completely in seconds. The sand looks like something from a construction site (they import it from the desert) and it has all of these weird sharp things in it that end up cutting my feet, which almost burn to a crisp as I try to walk from my chair to the water. Weirdly, the beach feels like a construction site because 200 yards from the beach there IS a construction site. They've built a little island, and I'm not sure what they are doing on it, but trucks are always whizzing by carrying loads of migrant workers. The dust from their trucks eventually filters over the low wall separating our water from an inlet where boats and jet skis make a racket. There's another construction site next to the hotel and you can hear the clanging and banging on the beach.


The water has been really clear the past two days and I spotted three damsels that were surprisingly large. They are the only fish I've seen in the water here except for some clear, very boring fish that are like the non-descript guys wandering around the office.


The water is warm. Hot, actually. It's around 98 degrees now, and will only get worse as the summer kicks in to full swing and the temperature goes up to around 140. I'm trying to swim but normally it's so hot my goggles fog up and it seems that the other people on the beach like to watch me swim so they tread water right in the path where I'm trying to swim. After I give up and go back to my chair they normally do the same. As soon as I get back in the water, there they are again, swimming a perpendicular course so we almost run into each other.


I saw a very old guy with a big gut floating around with one of those noodle things. It was dark blue, in a drastic contrast to his pasty skin. He had made the unfortunate decision to straddle the noodle, and the front end of it was sticking out of the water in front of him. I laughed.


Some of the other beach goers drag plastic chairs into the water (there's no tide to speak of) and sit on them up to their waists in the water, having drinks and smoking. It's like they were having a get together and the flood waters rose but they're all too drunk now to seek higher ground.


Guys walk by as I'm trying to read the paper. They're either staring at me because I'm a female in a bathing suit or perhaps they're amused at my attempts to turn the page of my paper in the wind, which can get quite strong down on the beach.


I stay in my chair until I'm so hot it feels like my scalp is crying tears and then I get back in the water. Within minutes of leaving the water my skin is covered with a chalky residue from the salt.


It's nice to have a hotel on the beach. But, it's not exactly St. Maarten.