What the ocean givith..

The following day, we rented bikes from our hotel to see more of the island. We rode north on the road we had walked south on the previous day and found ourselves in a rural community, with wooden houses lining the coast and yards covered with tarps of seaweed. After stopping for some pictures, we continued on to a sleepy mangrove beach, which would have been perfect for a picnic if we'd had any food. Turning back from the mangrove beach, we followed another road back south, a smooth path with mangroves on either side housing an enormous population of land crabs that would scurry into their holes as soon as they sensed our presence.

We followed the road to a bridge to an adjacent island and road through another sleepy island village with curious residents and beautiful views of the ocean.

Making our way back over the bridge, we continued south and around the southernmost tip of the island to Dream Beach, listed in the Lonely Planet as a secluded cove with a strip of white sand beach. Veering off the paved road in the direction of an arrow on a hand lettered sign, we followed a rutted mud path to the coast.

Dream Beach was beautiful and secluded but for the men working on the construction of a structure, sure to bring an end the seclusion in the near future. Large flat rocks covered the shore separating the sand from the ocean except for a tiny section at the far end where angry waves roared up to the beach without anything to temper their velocity. I was content to sit on the rocks and enjoy the sound of the waves, but Steven, being Steven, had to join the fray.

Feeling more like my mother than ever, I pleaded with him not to risk it, picturing the pounding waves dragging him under and me standing helpless on the shore. Not one to be cowed or influenced by my motherly distress, Steven stripped down to his suit and made it halfway out into the pounding surf before being knocked down and deciding that perhaps it was better to view the scene from afar.

As Steven struggled back up to the shore, an enormous wave crashed over the rock on which we had left our bag and later his hat, shirt and glasses. I ran to the rock with a shout and grabbed our things just before the water could soak them. Steven walked up to inspect the damage and immediately asked about his glasses. A rapid search of our things did not produce them, so, panicked, we ran over to the rock where they had been just seconds before.

After a 10 minute search of the rock and the water, with Steven checking the bag numerous times hoping he had put them in a pocket we hadn't checked and me wandering along the rocks at the shore hoping that the ocean would decide that it didn't need the glasses and give them back, we gave up our search as a lost cause and moved on.