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Caleb Peña

Professor Andaluz

English 100

02 October 2020

What Happened, Palominito?

Walking down the slick harbor, I can see the lines of boats. Hauled up on a dock with no

sails, centerboards, or rudders; the boats would almost look abandoned if not for the twenty

others in line next to them. The small port felt exactly the same, the wood looked so dry and

desolate as if it were deserted, yet they were moist and slippery. The platform creaks as I try not

to slip and fall. At the end of the dock waits a small motorboat 30 feet long and about four

people wide. Coasting through the docks, the smell of the harbor emanates up from the water. A

mix of oil, seawater, and fish tingled my nose as I took a deep breath, but the smell was oddly

comforting. Despite the gloomy appearance, the sea danced with excitement. The birds chirped

and chirped as they roamed around the sky. Fluffy clouds ruling the sky and casting their shadow

upon us, eventually dissipating revealing the beaming sun. The roaring waves sway the boat as I

climb aboard, almost throwing me off into the blue abyss. We untie the restraints once aboard

and set off to Palominito, Puerto Rico. The boat jerks forward, away from the safety of the shore.

The soft breeze streams through our hair as the boat glides through the mirror-like ocean almost

effortlessly. Near the bow sits a bench fixated to the boat so I decided to relax and enjoy the

motion of the ocean. I crack open a cold can of OK Kola Champagne as water drips from the can
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due to the ice in the cooler. Despite having champagne and cola in the name, it has no connection

to them in the slightest and tastes like sweet vanilla cream caffeinated goodness.

It wasn’t long until we reached the island. The water was exceptionally blue that day with

a green undertone as you got closer to shore. It had my full attention as I gazed into the

enormous pool of curiosity, only to be broken by a head-shaking boat horn. I turn my head to see

dozens of people have come to party on their boats together. I slowly inch toward the edge of the

boat as I build the courage to dive over the railing and into another world. Expecting the water to

be freezing cold, I was pleasantly surprised at the warmth and comfort it provided. Instead of

swimming to shore, I allowed the waves to gracefully guide me to the shore as I look up at the

sky. I have never felt more relaxed than this very moment. I eventually washed up on the islands

shore holding my left palm to my forehead, playing with the golden sun rays seeping through my

fingers. I slowly get up on my feet and turn around to see Palominito teeming with plant life.

This tiny island had its own ecosystem; palm trees swaying in the wind, and bushes rustling for

unknown reasons. I did not want to disturb the curiosities that were going on in there, so I

decided to take a walk around the island. The golden sand giving in to my feet leaving behind a

sign of my presence, only to be washed away soon after as if I was never there. It was a

minefield of coral, with a collection of different multi-colored seashells. The waves were singing

me a dulcet lullaby, making me reminisce about my life back on Maui. The sounds of the beach

complemented the beautiful imagery, creating a sense of inner peace and harmony. I silently

observed as some of the new arrivals laid down their towels on the glistening sand. The rest of

the guests were parting on their luxurious houseboats, blasting deafeningly loud music, and
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getting intoxicated. It didn’t take long for me to circle the entire island but I could go in circles

for hours, gazing at the beautiful ocean and the wonderful lush island. What felt like minutes

turned into hours, eventually forcing us to leave.

Many years later my family and I decide to visit Puerto Rico again and check on

Palominito. Once the preparations were finished we launched off the dock and headed toward the

island, but this time felt different. Up until now, the sky had been near perfect, but it was

changing. The beautiful cocktail-blue shade was beginning to darken into gravel-grey. Sitting at

the bow, I wait for the island to appear over the horizon. Instead, the boat comes to a stop.

“We’re here.” I was told by my uncle who was driving the boat. The excitement on my face

drained into nothingness. I peeked over the railing to see that the island is almost completely

submerged. What used to be an island full of luscious flora, is now slowly being eaten and

eventually forgotten. All that’s left is a deposit of sand barely above water, gasping for air as it

slowly drowns. Was this the result of Hurricane Maria? Is the sea level rising this rapidly?