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So happy together
We end our busy day with dinner at the Buccaneer, a seafood spot decorated to look like a sunken ship complete with underwater views through a 7,500-gallon, fish-filled saltwater tank and a dozen smaller aquariums. The boys are fascinated by a sinuous moray eel and a trio of dancing lobsters. Marlie turns to us and declares that there’s no way he’s going to order lobster, “because these guys might get mad.”
The following morning, Alex and Marlie clamor to go to Camp Hyatt Wantapana, the resort’s kids’ club for ages 3 to 12 that offers everything from pool games and a playroom crammed with toys, videos and craft supplies, to lessons in basic Papiamento — the local Creole. The boys barely look back as they head directly to the basketball hoop. Gary and I take advantage of the alone time to slip off to the Stillwater Spa and then linger over a beachside lunch at The Palms.
On our last morning, Marlie’s thrilled to spend more time at the kids’ club while we take his older brother on his first offshore snorkeling trip, to the wreck of the Antilla, a 400-foot-long German freighter. Alex sits wide-eyed as the Red Sail Sports guide recounts the ship’s story, how its crew scuttled it instead of letting it fall to the Dutch after the Nazis invaded Holland. But that’s nothing compared to his reaction when we hold hands and glide above the huge wreck, which teems with countless colorful reef fish.
As we pack up to head home, I realize that besides creating some fantastic family memories, our time in Aruba actually taught the boys a lot about history, geology, biology and culture. Of course, they just think they’ve been on the vacation of a lifetime.
— Santa Choplin Bogdon
Hyatt Regency Aruba Resort and Casino: 011-297-586-1234; www.aruba.hyatt.com. The Buccaneer: 011-297-586-6172. Red Sail Sports: 011-297-586-1603; www.redsailaruba.com.
MOTHER OF ALL GETAWAYS
“You killjoy!” I heard someone shout as Captain Terry sounded the conch, signaling that it was time to reboard the Lady Lynsey and head back to the resort. The heckler, sporting a bright green mask and snorkel, was obviously not ready to leave the parrotfish, wrasse and yellowtail snapper behind, and quickly disappeared underwater. I finned my way over, and after a few moments she popped to the surface.
“Mom, we have to go now.”
“But this is so amazing,” she gasped. “I don’t want it to end.”
That phrase had become my mother’s mantra since our arrival at the Ritz-Carlton, St. Thomas two days earlier. We’d come for a good dose of no-holds-barred indulgence and some serious — and not-so-serious —mother-daughter bonding. Having both recently moved away from our native New York — she to the West, me to the South — to begin new chapters in our lives, we don’t get to see each other often enough. I was a teenager the last time we’d taken a vacation together, so I decided it was time we treated ourselves to a girls’ getaway; our men could manage on their own for a few days.
Since she now lives in arid, landlocked New Mexico, I wanted to spirit Santa Fe Sue to a place where she’d be surrounded by water. Upon first glimpsing the blues and greens of Great Bay from our ocean-view suite and feeling the cool sea breeze, she grabbed my arm and let loose a string of “wows” and “oh-my-gods.”
And it was in — and over, and on, and beside — that warm Caribbean water that we indulged ourselves. We basked in its early-morning brilliance during leisurely breakfasts on the Club Level lounge terrace. Its gentle swells rocked us into oblivion as we floated beneath an absurdly blue sky. We strolled along the shore, letting its tiny ripples tickle our toes. At night we listened to its sounds mingling with the bubbling of whirlpool jets while we soaked under the stars in a Jacuzzi near the beach, reminiscing about trips taken when I was little.
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