Rocked, Lobster

I’m on a press trip to Trinidad and Tobago. Nearly all of my expenses — flights, hotels, meals — were paid for by Trinidad/Tobago Tourism.

The bay looked very flat from the shore so I threw caution to the wind and joined the group when they boarded the glass bottomed boat to the reef. Thing is, out at the reef, the boat rocked and swayed and pitched. I tried to keep breathing and hold my breakfast down. The reef wasn’t much to look at anyway, which is a great pity — when you’ve seen a living reef, one where the coral is pale and the fish have vacated for a more vibrant community doesn’t live up to the hype.

I was grateful when we headed for less choppy waters. I jumped off the boat into the turquoise shallows of Tobago’s Nylon Pool and scrubbed my arms and face with the fine sand under my feet. The water was about three feet deep here — it felt so good to stand on solid ground.

At the sandbar beach of No Man’s Land we had a massive fish BBQ spread — curried crab and kingfish and shrimp skewers and lobster, even. “Onion, salt, and lime,” said the guy working the grill when I asked about the marinade. “But not on the lobster. I used to marinate the lobster, too, but then, I have a group of Italians come in and they told me I was doing it wrong. They were right, it’s much better this way.” I’m pretty sure he gave me the biggest lobster half, and oh my, was it ever delicious.

The ride back to the pier was on glassy flat water, so the lobster did not go to waste.