Island Hopper

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A thunderstorm squall was stalled a couple miles offshore. We were going for it! The twin props spun as we launched just a few feet from the tops of the banana trees. From the open cockpit I hear the fired up Spanish accent of the person behind the controls, ” Vamos!” (Go For It!).

It was the fall of 1994, Carli was two, but not yet terrible, and safe at home with Mormor (mother’s mother) as Hali and I headed to the tiny island of Guanaja, a divers destination off the banana coast of Honduras. Inside the plane the instruments were written in Russian, the pilots were Panamanian, and above the doorway as we boarded this small plane a placard that read in big letters, IN GOD WE TRUST…
Ever been on one of these? You like adventure, right? Sure. You can swim, right? Hey, if Diana Nyad
can swim from Cuba to Florida, without a shark cage, you can certainly swim from a gentle “unlikely water landing” to this island a few hundred feet away, right? The water’s warm, the surf small. Pretend you’re auditioning for Survivor. Think like Ozzie.
Once you’ve made it to land, you can answer that one question you’ve already tried to answer before. If you were stranded on a desert island…?
…You have a small waterproof backpack, what’s in it?

I’ll start. My pen and moleskin journal. A big bottle of sunscreen, good sunscreen. Oh yeah, and one bottle of beer. Good beer, big bottle.

What will you TRUST is in YOUR backpack?

About Woody

The travel bug is contagious. I caught it in 1985 while traveling with Hali on a three month backpacking trip through Western Europe. Having a passion for geography, local history & culture, and with a journal in my back pocket, I hope to share our experiences through this blog - whether traveling the well worn rail, or off the beaten trail.

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