I arrived at the Amerijet warehouse where I could see they had a huge fan blowing on my pet’s kennels. The temperature and humidity inside was approaching 90. Pathetic was the only thought that came to mind and I felt a heightened sense of urgency. The clerk informed me with a smile that Amerijet Bonaire/Curacao had prepared the paperwork incorrectly; everything, animals and personal posessions, were on one airbill. They were NOT supposed to be. She hoped that Customs and AVS would release the animals and put a hold on the rest of the shipment until the next morning. She sent me off into the dark to find the Customs/AVS office. When I found them and talked to the Customs Officer, it wasn’t pretty, especially when she discovered I had my bird’s cage on the packing list as well as everything on one airbill. The process for securing release that was communicated to me involved two government agencies and an off duty AVS inspector (which I would pay overtime), running to the post office to get a money order to pay the inspector and meeting him at the warehouse, then coming back to the Customs office. Or so I thought. However, when I returned to the Customs Office two hours later, I was berated for “not doing what I was told”; I guess I had been confused by talking with three different officers from three different agencies that didn’t all talk to each other first. The Customs Officer then morphed into the Wicked Witch of the West and cackled back at me “Well, I guess you have a problem now, don’t you. What are you going to do about it? I guess you’ll just have to wait until the morning or get Amerijet to make a new airbill” and a few other uncalled for remarks…..I slammed my hand on the desk and replied with angry words that, yes - I had a problem, that I obviously didn’t understand what I was supposed to do and that it was her job to help me solve my problem, that I had pets suffering in the heat in the warehouse and that I was trying to do what was required to get them released. I then left to go back to the Amerijet warehouse to see if they could help me figure out what to do to liberate my poor pets that were by that point beginning to look like candy bars left out in the hot sun; melted and without form.

When I arrived back at Amerijet, the Customs supervisor had phoned and yelled at the clerk and then hung up on her. The clerk kindly explained that they could not create a new airbill for just the pets and that the customs officer knew that. That she was being difficult and nasty and that’s how she always was. At that point, big, involuntary tears came streaming out of my eyes as I stood there feeling totally helpless and beaten. The clerk came around the desk and hugged me as I stood there crying and promised she would help me figure something out; that the customs shift changed at midnight and the next supervisor was a reasonable person and would release the pets. I pleaded with them through my tears to let me take my dogs out of their kennels for a walk, which they agreed to. When I got back from walking the dogs, the clerk told me to just hang on a few minutes longer; that three off duty customs inspectors had called her and were going to stop by on their way home. The three customs inspectors had been standing in the office while the supervisor was berating and and abusing me and had overheard her phone call to the Amerijet clerk. They felt so bad for me and my pets that they decided to come over and inspect my load so I could claim the pets, even though their shift was over. When they arrived they apologized for the treatment I received and told me that the welfare of my animals was the primary concern and it wasn’t my fault the paperwork was not prepared correctly. They explained that I didn’t have to tolerate such abuse and gave me the contact information to report the incident. After doing the requisite background check and inspecting my things, they released my shipment and encouraged me to report the incident and sent me on my way. So, four hours, half a tank of gas and $186 in overtime pay later the pets and I were putting an end to the day’s travel oddessy.

That night we all slept snuggled together on the floor at Holiday Inn Express; me and the cat wrapped up in a bedspread in front of the dog’s kennels with my fingers poked thru the bars.

The following day, in the early morning drizzle, I took the shuttle to the airport, then another to Budget to rent a moving truck. I claimed the pallet of paintings and personal effects from the Amerijet warehouse and lumbered off, back to MBE. After the last box was unloaded and I paid my outrageously expensive bill I finally realized that I was about to start my trip. The worst part surely had to be behind us. I was on my way to Colorado! Back to Budget to drop the truck; shuttle, shuttle back to Holiday Inn. Pack up the menagerie and head north on the Florida turnpike. I wanted so desperately to wave goodbye to Miami and never look back. If I could make it to Ocala by nightfall, that would be a good start.

Travelling entailed a daily ritual: feeding, walking, cuddling, continental breakfast, tearing down and loading kennels. The reverse of which would follow some 600 miles down the road at the first La Quinta I encountered as the sun began to set. It became a familiar and comforting routine and all of the hotel rooms pretty much looked the same, which took the guesswork out of how to arrange two huge, one medium and one small kennel and still have room to walk around in the room. The dogs discovered carpet and king sized beds and that a kennel is a good place to hide and hoard things that aren’t theirs to have. Like socks and sandals and underwear, for instance. The cat is a reluctant traveller; annoyed to be stuck in a kennel all day. But he’s not one to hold a grudge, and is content to have total freedom in the hotel room at night and to snuggle deep down under the covers to sleep. And the bird, he’s always up for an adventure in the little blue bye-bye kennel – as long as he has his toys to keep him company he’s a happy camper. During the trip we stopped every two hours or so; to stretch and relax and move. Driving from Miami to Colorado alone is a difficult task, but having pets along breaks up the monotony. It will also cause people who might otherwise ignore you, to come over and visit. Their curiosity just gets the best of them.

And funny things just happen on these rest stops. I always tried to find a place to park in the shade and out of the way of other travellers. In Mississippi, the grounds keeper at the rest stop motored over in his little golf cart to where I was walking the dogs along the edge of the woods. “Miss, y’all bess be a’watchin out fer snakes. I pulled a six foot ratt’ler outta them there sticks yes’day. Ya don’ wanna be a’spriz’n em, now’er yule git bit!.” At one barren rest area with no trees, fences or verticlal objects to mark, Bingo got really agitated and finally turned and peed on my feet. Somehow, he just couldn’t suffer the indignity of hiking his leg to pee on nothing but grass. My feet looked like the best substitute he could come up with. In Louisiana the dogs discovered wooly-bears; I found great amusement in sticking fuzzy yellow caterpillars on top of the dogs noses and watching them try to back away from the little critters motoring along their snouts. Then there was the “parking lot sprawl” in New Mexico; the dogs bolted out of the Blazer before I got both leashes attached. I had Bingo in hand, but could only get ahold of Spooky’s tail as he dashed. The momentum pulled me off of my feet and onto my belly; there I lay in the parking lot beside my truck, a leash in one hand and a tail in the other. I’m sure it was funny to see, but I found little humor in extracting pebbles from the scratches on my knees and elbows. Allthewhile, the cat was watching smugly from the comfort of his front seat kennel muttering under his breath, “You see? That’s what you get. I told you we should have left the dogs on the island....they’re nothing but trouble.”

I took a new route this trip and passed through countryside I’d never seen before. Miles of cotton fields fluffy-white and ready for harvest; long stretches of lowland bayou where the highway seems to hoover amid the treetops; flat, open prairie where prong horned antelope grazed unperterbed by the roadside; and finally the foothills of the Rockies and the mountains themselves, suspended at the horizon, floating in a haze of misty clouds. In the matter of a week’s time we went from the dog days of summer to the crisp chill of fall in the mountains at 9,200 feet. None of us were prepared for the cold and the altitude, and the first few days it was a struggle to adjust in layers of borrowed clothes and blankets. We still haven’t adjusted completely and seek out warm rays of sunshine in a sheltered place whenever we get the chance.

The boyz are transitioning into being “house dogs” and learning a whole new set of rules. And I did break down and borrow a plastic lawn recliner so we can have our daily cuddle time together; perhaps making them into 50 lb lap dogs was not the best idea. I wonder if people on Bonaire still drive by the little blue house expecting to see me on the porch with a dog in my lap….and wonder where we’ve disappeared to. Understanding that the cat and bird are not fluffy little sqeeky toys is another matter altogether. That transition is going to take some time. The boyz’ favorite pass-time has always been lizard hunting and chicken chasing; in their little dog minds that sport can be transferred to anthing that runs. But we are a flexible bunch and well get it figured out sooner or later. In the meantime we are thankful for extra tall pet gates.

I’m now settled in Montrose, Colorado, on a high plateau between the Rockies in the east and the San Juan mountains to the southwest. The winter cold is buffered here and the hardiest of roses are still blooming, although the mountains are capped with white. I miss Bonaire, but there is so much new to discover here I hardly feel at a loss. I have just traded one paradise for another. And I am anxious to ski. We celebrated my grandfather’s 94th birthday at the end of October before he left with my parents for Arizona. He plans to live to be 100 and will spend spring, summer and fall with me and winter in AZ with my parents. The doctor’s are optimistic for my mother’s cancer treatment and we are hoping for total remission. If she can finish her treatments by the end of December that will be a wonderful Christmas present for us all.

The fall colors this year were magnificent and inspiring and I am busy developing a portfolio of paintings with a colorful western theme. A week after I arrived, I walked into an art gallery and framing studio to buy oil paints and walked out with a part-time job. I hope to supplement my income by teaching some art classes and selling my work. For the time being, I have set aside my paintings of coral reefs and tropical fish. But I have discovered that there are lots of divers in Colorado and that Bonaire is on their radar screen. They have been coming into the shop with prints from the various islands and stories of their caribbean diving adventures. So perhaps in the end there will be a market for paintings with a tropical theme high in the mountains of Colorado. But, for now, elk and mule deer in the golden aspens are on the docket.

I am settling into the routine of a regular job. Thankfully, it is one with a lot of variety and I am surrounded by art. I miss my daily ventures into the ocean, mask and snorkel in hand, and of coarse I miss diving. But Ellen is keeping me updated on the comings and goings of Playa Lechi; sharing her pictures and stories are almost as good as being there. I think about my regular rides up the coast to 1000 Steps and Karpata and how familiar the sights are. How I can close my eyes and make the trip in my mind as if I were really there. And the ride out to Sorobon, and all of the familiar sights, sounds and smells along the way. I think the thing I will miss the most is sharing the island’s treasures with visitors; helping them to see things they might have otherwise overlooked both on land and in the sea. And discovering new things myself every day. I have many funny stories and interesting memories from my time on Bonaire, and more than a few scars to remind me of misadventures. But most of all I have the friendships – the only really important things. And they trascend the miles that now separate me from that other slice of paradise.

Many people ask if I’ll ever go back to live. Right now I’m inclined to say this type of travel adventure is something you only take on once in a life time. I’m not sure I could afford to do it again unless I win the lotto. But, one never knows. You can take the boyz away from the island, but I’m not sure you can ever take the island out of the boyz. And the mermaid will always long for the turquoise blue, so, we may end up back there some day. You just never can tell…….

Dara, thank you so much for sharing your trip. I was smiling in parts, angry at inflexible people in parts, thankful for kind souls in others and in tears at the end. Your thoughts were so honest and it was nice of you to share them with all of us. All the best to your mom and good luck to you as you continue the adventure for life really is a journey.
Susan

Dara, what a super story..you got to write a book..haaaaaaaaaaaa

Dara, I'm with Susan and Annie, I was angry, laughing, and crying...maybe you should try taking up the pen more often Glad to hear that you made it, and boy what a trip...I can't even imagine how difficult and straining it must have been...and seeing your babies suffering in the heat in the customs area and having no power to do anything...glad that the others heard the ordeal and came through...file that complaint!

Colorado is a beautiful place indeed...glad mom is doing good, I'll keep you both in my thoughts...and remember, if you ever get out our way, we can dive here together!

P.S...I have "Dreaming in Church" in my dining room, and the queen angels in my kitchen...right below Ellen's cowfish! I love those prints, and think of you every time I look at them They bring me lots of joy. Friends always comment on them and want to know where I got them

Dara, we're so glad you are now settled into your new home. Your journey was unbelievable....bless you for hanging in there and having the patience to complete it. It's all behind you now. Time to look forward. We'll add your Mom to the folks in our prayers, too. Carole

Dara, I think you should get some sort of medal for the best traveler ever! What a journey you went through!! Like everyone has said, I got angry, cried and smiled as I read of your adventures. I wish you the best in your new paradise and I will keep your Mom in my prayers.

Dara,
Which Framing Shop? We'll be going to Montrose in the next couple of weeks to pick up some Log Furniture that's on order (Timberline Log Furniture - across from the airport).
Thanks for sharing your travel adventures...more power to you.
Best wishes in your new location.

Linda, I'm at Simpson Gallery and Framing in the first block on Main headed east (324 E. Main) from Townsend, Wed-Sat. Stop and say hi! Dara

What a long strange trip it's been! Thanks for sharing the adventure, Dara. Your patience and persistence are astounding. Glad you're now getting settled. And, from a cancer survivor (just about 15yrs remission), my thoughts are with you and your mom.

Wow - I have nightmares thinking about travelling with all of my pets. . .

Dara, agree with the others, the best stories have tears and laughter. Your's has both, very enjoyable read. Thanks for taking the time.

Prayers and thoughts for your mother and a complete recovery.

As far as your time on Bonaire, I keep thinking of the old cliche, better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved. At least you got to live the dream for a while, the rest of us are still dreaming.

Thanks to all for keeping my mom in your prayers. Miricles do happen every day!

And, I am very glad I gave myself permission to chase after my dream in Bonaire. Nothing turned out as anticipated, but it was good just the same. I do know that the key to happiness is wanting to be where you are, because you can't always be where you want to be :-)

Well said, Dara. Always follow your dream.....Carole

I got a lump in my throat reading your story. I always expect to see you and the dogs in front of "your" house ready to stop for a chat when I pass by.

I miss you!

Marion, When are you and Eddie coming to ski??? Soon you'll be able to stop and chat with Annie and Mags; I think they arrive in a week or so! I bet Ellen's dog, Mokka, will march straight over there and demand to know where Spooky and Bingo went as soon as she recognizes they are the one's who baby-sat last summer :-) Dog's don't forget anything!

Life is short; be sure to make time to go to Lac and hang your hammocks up! I miss you too!
Dara