Natal, Brazil 2007: Dune Raider...

I was up and had my backpack organized before any of the other kids had even opened their eyelids. Uncle Mark, Aunt Lori and Paul were in deep discussion about someone staying home in case FedEx dropped off the packages. Aunt Lori called Inacia, who gladly agreed to come over and use the pool all day. Now that we had a guardian to keep an eye peeled for the incompetent delivery company, we were ready to load into the buggys and head north.

This trip we added an additional buggy. Having the Bruno and Junior again for drivers, we also were graced with the presence of a man named Washington who happened to be the big boss of the organization. He was a rather large man with a scared face. I hopped in a buggy with Aunt Lori and Uncle Mark, and the 10 of us headed north toward Maracujau. The tides were different than my last trip, and we were able to make most of the journey north on beaches and dunes. I hadn’t forgotten the thrill of riding up and down the dunes at 50 miles per hour and screaming along the shore at 70, but the excitement gripped me again as the tires sputtered sand into the air.

While the trip had the same destination as my first one, we made different stops and were able to experience different things than before. Our first real stop after getting a snack was the Jenny Papu lagoon where Paul went to work with the camera. While his talent extends through all spectrum's of the profession, his specialty is landscapes, and the dunes north of Natal are perfect for the ol’ telephoto lens. After driving along the shoreline on a beautiful beach, we arrived at Un Lago Corazon (The Heart Lake), which is a natural lake that filled with rainwater in the shape of a heart. After a brief swimming stop we were back on the road, or the sand rather.

My second trip to the dune-side amusement park was different. I wanted to try and conquer the rapid slip and slide, but it appeared closed. I expressed my discouragement to the attendant there, and he put people to work immediately cleaning the sand off the slide, and unfurling the long plastic material. Then, like sheep being led to the slaughter, he sent village children down one by one to clean the remaining grains of sand off of the plastic with only the skin of their bare backs. Paul and I watched as one after another would go down, and after each one hit the water, there would be noticeably less sand left on the slide.

Finally it was my turn. Leaving my camera with Paul to ensure that I got a picture of the slide this time, I shot down the material and into the natural lake. I took the cart ride up, and was informed when I reached the top, that my camera had entered sleep mode before I went down. My heart was still pounding, but I agreed to do it again. This time my body spun on the mat before I hit the water, propelling me head first into the center of the lake. It was a thrilling end to my time there at that tourist trap. Stephanie and William also had a run at the slide, while all of us, minus Amy, went down the zip line before leaving.

Our next stop was going to be Maracujau. Lori and Mark stayed behind while the remaining eight of us loaded unto a speedboat for a trip out to the dive platform. The day had been beautiful, almost too beautiful for someone who thought he was too dark already to be bothered putting on suntan lotion. Even though there were barley any clouds in the sky, which believe it or not was the correctly predicted forecast, the wind was fierce on the ocean. I was skeptical that we would be able to see anything snorkeling, but I hoped we would considering that it was Paul’s’ families first time. After a bumpy ride four miles out, we arrived at the platform and disembarked. Everyone besides me had gotten soaked on the ride out, and I just gloated that I had picked my seat wisely, a comment that would come back to bite me later.

After putting our gear on, we jumped into the warm ocean. There were dozens of people around us, and nobody snorkeling out very far, which I thought was odd. The reason became apparent to me when I stuck my mask under the water and discovered how murky the water was. Last time it had been as clear as could be, and this time I could barley see my hand in front of my face. I dove down, and before I knew it I was staring at a piece of coral inches from my face. I waved my hands in a panic to get away from the jagged rock-like material, but my action did nothing but cause my arm to rub along the sharp edges of another piece I had not seen. With my arm burning from sun exposure, coral burn and the salt water on a recently open wound, I shot upward.

Before I knew it I was face to face, or face to butt should I say, with a large Filipino woman. I moved my head just before impact and broke the surface inches from her gigantic figure. I swam back to where the others were floating. A man on the deck tossed a piece of bait into the water, and a school of small fish was suddenly in front of us. I shot my hand in quick and snagged three of them, and then opened my hand to show the kids. I made a second attempt at grabbing a fish, and caught one by the tail. I brought him to the surface and he flopped around for about five seconds before having a massive coronary heart attack and dying on the scene. Since I was not going to perform mouth to mouth on the cold blooded scaled creature, and there was no defibrillator on hand, I tossed its lifeless body into the water.

The next excitement to happen was the sighting of a baby Portuguese Man of War. After a near collision with the tentacles, I decided to get out of the murky water before I ended up in the hospital. The rest of the group followed me out of the water, where I stopped to look at the dead body of the boneless jellyfish that apparently spoke the language of Brazil fluently. I begged our driver to take us back to the beach since the snorkeling was awful and he obliged. I sat in the same seat as before expecting a dry ride to the shore, but the sea was angry that day. Water pounded over the side of the vessel and soaked me. I couldn’t open my eyes due to the stinging salt water constantly rushing down my face due to the splashes. When we got off the boat, I was the wettest one of all.

We met up with Lori and Mark and got back in the buggys to head back south. We ate lunch about an hour later. Paul, Patty and I had some delicious soup and some grilled fish, while the kids dined on fried shrimp and Uncle Mark and Aunt Lori ate some shrimp soup. It was getting dark by the time we finished, so we took the quick route home. I slouched back in the seat and watched stars as we went through downtown Natal. We arrived home at about 7:00, and I took a shower and shaved the week’s worth of scruff off of. The kids swam for a bit, and I went to work writing my blog for Friday. After talking with Dad, Jill, Shad and Mom for a bit online I went to bed. The next day was after all Sunday, and I had to mentally prepare myself for the marathon that was before me....