I didn’t want to be broken! But sometimes things are just out of your control. Like falling down steps carrying a heavy cooler on Christmas Eve. Timing is everything and there is no good time to be hurt. But, I will say that late on Christmas Eve in Utah is a good time to go to the Emergency Room….if you have to go! Its not very busy. The result of my fall was an 80 % rupture of my quad tendon on my left leg. Luckily, no surgery was required, but I was facing six weeks of immobilization and several months of physical therapy. Crap! Now I don’t know how many of you have experienced having your leg locked straight for six weeks, but it tends to make life a little difficult. I learned to really hate socks. (I know I should have stretched more all those years.)

Now, most rational people would just decide to take it easy, take advantage of the medical clauses to back out of travel plans and just stay put for a few months. However, I have never been accused of being a rational man…and I wasn’t going to let a little issue, like walking, stop me!

As many of you know, Reva and I do a significant part of our cruise travel during the fall and winter and 2024 was no exception. In the winter, we spend the majority of our time in the Caribbean and we had a total of eight cruises booked (yes eight!) in January and February. These cruises ranged in length from 2 and 7 days and several were back-to-back on the same ship. However, we did have to manage travel to four ports and were visiting almost different 20 ports throughout the Caribbean. Not something I was looking forward to tackling …… but not something that I was going to back away from. Reva just rolled her eyes a few times and promised to help me with my damn socks and off we went.

If you travel in the Caribbean, you understand that the cities on the Islands are not particularly nice or safe places. In general (there are a few exceptions), all these countries are poor and the locals can be fairly aggressive with tourists. Several islands have travel warnings and caution is always advised. The main thing to do is visit the beautiful beaches. Unfortunately, there was no way I could get into the ocean and even if I did, I am sure my leg brace would rust and I would have other issues. So, we opted to mostly avoid the beach and just hobble around the ship and ports.

Now when I say hobble, I mean HOBBLE! I normally only take stairs and usually get accused of moving to fast. Not the case anymore….literally, I was the slowest, most awkward thing you could imagine teetering down the hallways, stairs and docks. Elderly people, children, wheelchairs, people in walkers …. everything passed me. Honestly, one day a thought I saw a snail pass me! On top of that, I wasn’t very good with ramps. Level ground was OK but my balance was shot. I was pretty helpless ….but I did have a walking stick. I felt like Cranky Kong in the Donkey Kong Country Video Game with his cane threatening people.

So, I was very concerned about getting off in many ports, since I perceived myself as one big target. However, I am too stubborn to just stay on the ship so off Reva and I went. Boy what a surprise I received in and around these ports. Instead of being a target, I seamed to be more accepted. Maybe I was just a curiosity, an older white guy peg-legging himself down the sidewalk trying to keep his balance but I had more interactions with local islanders than I had ever had. Maybe because I had slowed down and everyone had a chance to talk to me. Anyway, I felt more welcome than I have ever been when visiting these Islands. No matter where we were, the locals seemed quite willing to make room for me and even go out of their way to be nice. Let me give you a few examples:

In the Bahamas, while hobbling down a dock, one of the larger robust female security guards came up to me and directed me toward a shorter line. “Poppy! Come this way.” A small gesture, but I had never had one of these guards ever even smile at me, and I had never been called “Poppy” before. I smiled…I kind of liked that!

In St Lucia, in addition to people stopping cars to let me pass, in one place where I was forced to walk along the edge of the road in busy traffic; one car pulled up to me and the man called out, “take your time man…no hurry”. I responded that I was running at the time and he just laughed and drove next to me until I was able to get out of the road and back onto the sidewalk. He waived as he drove away.

In Trinidad, during the Carnival, I was stumbling along next to one of the floats when one of the men in costume, came up and looked down at my brace and gave me a fist-bump. Other places, security guards moved barricades so I wouldn’t have to walk around. Time and time again, I received more respect than I had ever experienced or expected.

Island after Island, people came up and offered me words of encouragement as I went by. Crowds would part and I felt more warmly welcomed than any of the countless times I had traveled in these ports. I actually felt safer in my weakened state that I had ever felt before. Taxi cab drivers would offer rides but not in an aggressive way. Once, a couple of them helped to prop me up while I was teetering down a ramp on the sidewalk. Most would just smile and say enjoy your walk and let me know that they were there if I wanted a ride.

What moved me the most, occurred in Tobago. When, Reva and I were walking along the downtown area of Scarborough, away from the tourist center. (Actually looking for a grocery store to hopefully find a diet Pepsi.) A shirtless, toothless, old man crossed the street and approached us. The man was dirty, his long dreadlocks were matted and I assumed that he was homeless and was coming to beg. He stepped up onto the sidewalk next to me and softly said something. I couldn’t understand what he was saying but it wasn’t threatening. I tried to pick-up my pace and move away from the man. As I passed, he gently put his hand on my shoulder said something and then turned away and crossed back across the road. I immediately thought “what the hell was that?” and wondered if he had put something on my back…..he had not.

Then it hit me, did that man just come up and pray over me? I would never know for sure but it was quite a gesture. Did a poor, homeless, toothless black man have pity for the rich, old, white guy? Boy, the thought of that really moved me. I remembered my teachers’ words in the Catholic Schools years ago “treat others as you want to be treated” and that “Look and you may see Jesus in the people you meet”. This was Ash Wednesday and the start of Lent. We returned to Tobago the following week and I was curious if I would see that old man again. I did not. But I felt that maybe my leg hurt a little less.

Now, I am a stubborn, opinionated, older man who is skeptical of the motives of people, especially in tourist areas. However, I have seen a side of the Islanders which I had never anticipated. I had been concerned that as a damaged man, I would be a target….and I certainly would be in the wrong situation. However, I felt a compassion which I never could have imagined and a Lenten experience that I will never forget … even after my leg heals.

Waddle on Ducks…I am:)