Catherine Mobley English 111 September 9, 2013 920 words

Mobley 1

Tougher than Granite The sand is wet and spongy beneath my bare feet. I take a minute to glare at the mounds of dead coral at the far end of the bay, knowing Ill have to abuse my soles to get over them. My destination is the giant granite boulders that rest on the opposite side of the point. The hike to the granite rocks will take about twenty minutes if I walk at a brisk pace, but Im not going to rush my journey. I drag my toes through the dark green seaweed that litters the shoreline of Trellis Bay and slowly begin walking east. Ive been living in Tortola for about three years now. Its nothing special when compared to the other Caribbean islands - no particularly beautiful beaches or reefs to speak of - but Ive slowly begun to think of it as home. Much of the islands revenue comes from tourism. Several big name companies charter boats to inexperienced sailing enthusiasts and, as a result, the bay is usually clogged with the dowdy blue-trimmed vessels. I glance to my left as I make my way down the narrow beach and notice my math teacher eating lunch in the cabin of his Trawler. Hell be the hardest to say goodbye to. His tenacious personality and biting wit have become a strange comfort to me over the last few months. I close my eyes and attempt to focus on the task at hand. The walk around the bay seems to pass in a blur of grey as the sky takes on a tumultuous appearance. The cool breeze that was present at the beginning of my trek has transformed into a stagnant vacuum that causes sweat to form on my lower back. As I pass a pile of abandoned dinghies, I notice the peeling marine paint on their hulls and patches of material stripped from their tubing. Land crab burrows are scattered around the base of the junk heap and several

Mobley 2

spiders have taken up residence in the interior of the boats. I quicken my pace to get away from the offensive arachnids. The wildlife of Tortola is not something I will miss upon my departure. Soon I come upon a break in the trees that marks the path to the rocks. A few meters in, the path forks and I am forced to choose whether to return to the comfort of my temporary home or face the possibility of being caught in a downpour. Having already come so far, I decide to continue forward on my mission. The transition from the sharp and jagged pieces of coral to hard-packed dirt is a relief on my feet. Looking down the dirt road, I can see thousands of tiny crabs scurrying through the shallow puddles caused by a previous rain spell. I try my best not to crush any of their tiny bodies, but my presence has caused a great disturbance amongst their ranks. Claws at the ready, they quickly clear a path for the giant beast invading their territory. The puddles taper off at the base of a steep hill. Some loose pebbles fall away as I carefully begin my upward climb. One of my biggest fears of this hike is the possibility of twisting my ankle or busting my skull open on a rock. Taking care to make sure my footing is stable, and I eventually arrive at the crest of the hill. I take a minute to observe my surroundings. Theres a smell of something warm and organic in the air - probably the dried up salt pond to my right. I can hear the ocean through the trees, and the sound makes my heart beat a little faster. I know from experience that the trail ahead is overgrown with thorny bushes. I warily search the ground for any sign that Im about to step on a barb and take a cautious step forward. I continue in this manner until I reach a sandy clearing. Looking up, I see that I now have an unobstructed view of the beach. I pick my way through the wiry grass and sand until Im ankle deep in the ocean. The water is cool and as clear

Mobley 3

as a crystal. I realize I havent looked at the boulders since arriving. I take a deep breath and slowly turn to my left. The rocks are evidence of a volcanic chain that once existed here millions of years ago. They loom over the beach with an imposing kind of beauty. Their sheer size demands my attention. I walk over to the nearest rock and run my hand along its coarse surface. A break in the clouds causes sunlight to reflect off of the crystals in the granite and I can understand why people pay thousands of dollars to have this in their home. I take a moment to embrace the sight of this elegant monstrosity before I begin my ascent. Using my fingers and toes for leverage, I propel my body up the smallest boulder. The rough texture of the stone is abrasive against my skin, but my grip doesnt waver. As I leap and climb my way to the tallest rock, my earlier fear of falling is quickly forgotten. Adrenalin races through my veins as I look out over the Atlantic Ocean. I take a moment to relish in the feeling of being here. My mind is not tainted with thoughts of leaving. Instead, I sit down amongst the rocks and allow myself to be.