It was fully clothed -- sun hat, long-sleeved shirt, slacks, socks, running shoes -- soaked from the neck down and crawling on all fours.
It was me, proving once again that there's no fool like an old fool, particularly an old fool who reckons he can still to do things he did when he was younger.
In this case, it was kayaking. Not a leisurely paddle on a quiet river but a push into the wind on the open Caribbean.
It didn't help that the kayak was a piece of plastic junk with an ill-fitting back support that kept slipping. Or to have to acknowledge that I wouldn't have made it as far as I did without my female partner, a slip of a thing nearly 50 years my junior.
But even old fools eventually know when they've reached their limit, and I boarded the backup boat that accompanied our party.
I was dry at that point. Frustrated and humiliated, but dry. (Fully clothed because of sensitivity to the sun).
Came time to disembark. Small problem, the skipper said. There's a reef, so you'll have to get off and wade in.
The water was only waist-deep, so I put my wallet in my shirt pocket, fastened my watch inside my hat, and went over the side.
When I approached the beach I had to negotiate a slight incline. Something slapped the back of my legs -- I'm claiming it was a rogue wave -- and I toppled backward.
Kayaking was to be followed by something else I'd done years ago -- zip-lining.
Common sense whispered "give it a miss." Stubborn pride turned a deaf ear.
So, a quick change of clothes and a ride into the forest and I was chatting with the general manager of Sky Safari Tours Inc., Crystal-Rayne Tomma. She hails from the Shuswap region of B.C. and trained at Sky Safari's Whistler operation. (Visit skysafaristkitts.com).
When I told Crystal my day had started badly, she assured me I could drop out at any stage.
So I suited up -- rock-climbing hat and modified para-gliding harness -- and did the test run. It's short, slow and only a couple of metres off the ground. Piece of cake.
Then came the first of four real runs. It's also the longest -- on a cable stretching 411.48 metres, to be exact -- and a heart-gripping 76 metres above the valley floor. If you don't get a jolt whistling along the wire, you most assuredly will when you stop. They use a braking system consisting of a series of springs with differing compressions.
I'll say this much: Whamming into metal springs beats what I experienced in Costa Rica, where the cables were anchored to trees. Riders controlled their own braking, and there was a guy standing on a platform to grab you if you didn't slow quickly enough. If he couldn't stop you, the tree trunk would.
Riding to and from Sky Safari's site is a bonus. The road hugs the coast, blue-green water on one side, lush greenery on the other.
In Old Road, tour vans stop so visitors can photograph the "rum tree," bedecked with empty bottles of one of St. Kitts' favourite beverages. Another favourite -- ice-cold Carib beer -- can be had at any of the roadside bars for a buck or so U.S. a bottle.
If you rent a car, remember they drive British style -- on the left -- in St. Kitt's. If you'd rather let someone else drive, I can recommend a gentle giant named Scott Tyson, whose family runs Sugar City Tours. E-mail him at boyagain@hotmail.com or call 869-665-4388.
denglishtravel@gmail.com
Disney Fantasy to sail next spring
