One of the rescued Hawksbill Sea Turtles in the Bequia Turtle Sanctuary poking his head out of the water as if to say "Why Hello, and Thank You".

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Our morning consisted of an early Yoga session at the beach and this time the Capt'N chose to come with, expecting some form of very mild stretching, like the day before. Except that this time Dalynn had upped the ante with a bigger screen (with which to better see), and better speakers (with which to better hear), along with a (surprise!) much more vigorous power yoga session DVD.

We began the the graceful movements of the sun salutations with clear instructions to breathe into our hamstrings and soften our eyes, at which point Glen surprisingly exclaimed:

"So this is what he sounds like!!" and towit Dave grouched his way into another quite painful type of Downward Facing Puppy, and we all erupted in gales of laughter.

Over an hour later and we were almost bent out of shape when Dalynn quickly inserted another DVD of Some 339 Excruciating AB related moves all done in a powerhouse of 25 minutes. We survived perhaps 103 crunches in 10 minutes, at which point the leader of the pack gave up had pity on us and turned the program off. Namaste!!

Back to our boat for some power and water generating activities and then after lunch we were packed and off for a Wee Bit of an Adventure.

A grey coloured and muggy type of walk greeted us and the first bit of the path consisted of going uphill all the way before we veered off onto a side path and towards the sound of the crashing surf at Spring Bay,



where we found the abandoned remains of what might have once been an attempt to build a resort of some-sort,



or perhaps in the bushes beyond, the remains of a sugar mill plantation?



We didn't seem to be a bother to the sheep grazing amid the multitudes of wind-bent coconut palms, and the bovines relaxing in the heat didn't seem to care about our presence either, nary an ear twitched as we approached.



Back through the fields of green,



and up the hill towards Industry Bay,



where we giggled at these stairs so out of place in the bush, obviously leading to somewhere that needed a very locked door,



to mark it all as very private, yet...

The road got prettier and we continued to follow the very recently whitewashed fence, almost half expecting to find Tom Sawyer standing around, paintbrush in hand, straw hat on his head, and a piece of grass in his mouth...



and then the wilderness set in and we found ourselves trudging uphill (again!!), one step at a time, one breath at a time, towards Crescent Beach,



and trying to figure out North from South and East from West,



and just around the bend the (Old Hegg) Turtle Sanctuary came into view. A few dogs laying around in the hot afternoon heat woke up and busily barked our arrival.



Brother (Orton) King warmly greeted us with a handshake and a smile and invited us in.



The very clean building houses a few tanks,



home to many beautiful (and critically endangered) Hawksbill turtles of all shapes and sizes,



and colours.



They glided through the water, poking their heads out of the water to greet us.



Brother King started rescuing turtles in 1995,



his love for the hard-shelled creature as plain as the warm and proud smile on his face,



as he told us a little bit about his work, and his family,



and some of the 14 dogs that call this place home sat around along with us and listened.

We had a wonderful visit. In the past 19 years, Brother King has repopulated the nearby waters with over 900 turtles that might have, would have, ordinarily died.

One day at a time. One turtle at a time.

There was a traffic jam coming our way as we headed back out,



and once we navigated our way clear of the Billy Goats Gruff, we were faced with another roadside hazard.



Can't you just imagine creatures such as these existing in a more gigantic version in a Jurassic type of era?

We zigged through a field,



and made our way into the Firefly Plantation where we were the only ones there that afternoon, the season being almost over. We were warmly invited to use their pool (bathing suits and towels we did not have),



enjoy some drinks (money we did have), so Dalynn and I opted for Passionfruit Margaritas,



and House Special of Mango Coconut Punch for the boys.



Down the hills on wobbly knees (too much Yoga? too much uphill? Or was that one power drink?) towards the repair shop to find out the news on our outboard.

Kerry had spent a cursing type of afternoon getting at our outboard, and had a helluva time trying to find the problem. The final result was found to be a badly corroded and leaky crankshaft seal housing, and completely destroyed crankshaft bearing,



totally caused by saltwater corrosion.

She's been rebuilt with an old part he had onhand, and he suggested we purchase new parts at our next opportune moment (and even bring them back to him and he would reinstall).

Back home the outboard went directly back on dinghy and Dave took her out on a test drive don. She was purring a bit noisier than a kitten, but otherwise he was satisfied and came back with a thumbs up. The next order of business was to kersplash our way into the water for a refreshing dip and it wasn't long thereafter that supper and sleep beckoned. Our head hit the pillows after a most satisfying type of day.

To start something you just have to take that one step. Start walking, one step at a time. Start moving, one step at a time. Start doing, one dream at a time.

And someone out there is rescuing turtles, one at a time. And as a result there are, today, 900 more than there were before.