October 24, 2009: Nassau, New Providence, Bahamas

Album of the Day: Melvins/Lustmord - Pigs of the Roman Empire


I went on a cruise to the Bahamas, and we arrived in Nassau. Cassy and I rode a boat over to a smaller island and were looking for something fun to do. I got a really stout margarita and we started walking down the road to find some stuff to do. After eating some pizza at a cool restaurant (which I can't remember the name of), we got directions from some locals to a beach down the road, where we had planned on relaxing in the sun. We found out that the quickest and most logical route to the beach was to walk through a hotel, which happened to be the nicest/biggest hotel I've ever been to. When we reached the far end of the hotel, which took roughly 8 minutes, and exited toward the beach, we were approached by this dude who wanted us to rent some jet skis from him for $75. I of course told him no, and that no matter how much I like to ride jet skis, I would never honestly convince myself that it would be worth $75 to ride one for 15 minutes. Is that frugality? I hope not. So, as the guy keeps trying to convince us, Cassy and I conclude (after intense deliberation) that it would, however, be worth $40 to ride a jet ski for 30 minutes. Negotiation was then set into motion.
So, for what seemed like about 25 minutes, we ripped through the open ocean, crossing paths with other jet skis, ramping boat waves, making donuts, etc., and we came upon a vacant jet ski on the outer "boundaries" of where we were to ride. The peculiar thing was that we had rode by the exact same spot about 5 times already and there was no vacant jet ski in sight before. There was also no driver in sight. A few minutes later we were motioned (with frantic waving and stomping) to come ashore, which we did. When we got there, the guy who rented the jet ski to us was only partially paying attention to the fact that we were returning his boat to him because he was in an intense conversation with a group of other guys, who all were pointing at and looking in the direction of the empty jet ski. They were speaking in a language unknown to me, and we decided to walk a few yards down and rest on the beach. I never really figured out what happened, but my imaginative mind assumed, I guess, that someone wrecked a jet ski while we were riding and their body floated to the bottom of the ocean never to be seen again. I took pictures of the "marine police people" carrying the sunken jet ski to shore. I still wonder what that was all about.