This past August, Scott Voigt (S’14), Danaldo ‘stayin motivated’ Pinder (S’15) and myself, Chris Teufel (F’13) had the incredible opportunity of joining Brocq Maxey and the Shark Explorers team at their home base in Cape Town, South Africa. All three of us were captivated by Brocq’s presentation he gave to our semesters about what it is he does for a living. So, in turn each of us contacted Brocq expressing these interests and were able to join the team from August 1st – August 21st for the internship experience of a lifetime.
Our day to day activities ranged from waking up at the crack of dawn to go out on the boats as actual members of the Shark Explorers crew and experience the raw power that is a 12 foot great white shark quite literally flying out of the water, to leisurely diving in the kelp forests with everyone’s favorite pajama cat sharks. At night, the team made sure to assimilate us into the Captonian subculture, be it having dinner and shopping at one of the open air markets, or getting together for a Braii (barbecue) and watching some rugby.
However, it was quite evident that the trip was not all fun and games, we also learned an immense amount about what it takes to actually have this as a day to day job. While on the job, we were also exposed to the vast bank of knowledge that each and every member of the crew possessed. Whether it was dive tips from Ernest, or a lesson in streaming live video to the boat from Mark, the tools we gained through this internship are not only applicable to a future career in marine science but to life in general.
I speak on behalf of all three of the interns when I say that this experience was a once in a life time opportunity, and that if any other Island School Alums are out there reading this, we strongly encourage you to shoot Brocq an email and inquire about next summer’s internship.
When you hear about college life, you may think about the food, or how hard you have to study, the freedom you have, or even the memories you’ll make. But a lot of people seem to forget the “Dorm Life,” that quintessential time in your life where you share everything (no kidding) with your roommates and grow together as a single functioning team. Here at the Island School, you don’t just get to share your life with a couple kids like in college, but rather 29 kids for three months in two huge rooms! And the best part about sharing every moment with them is the memories you make.
I’ve never spent any moment of my life in a dorm. I’ve always woken up at home and slept at home. I heard about these kids at boarding schools and sleep-away camps and really wondered, how on earth do you even get a moment of peace and quiet with everyone watching your every move? But, to be honest, why would you ever want peace and quiet when you have 27 of your best friends not even five feet away from you? They’ll always be there for you when you’re having an issue, and have your back when things get rough. You can absolutely always count on them!
Another awesome aspect of dorm life that I’ve come to love is the fact that you can share anything and everything, whether it be clothes, sports, or beauty tips, if you’re missing something, chances are your dorm mates have it for you! Along with that, is their willingness to share their support. They’ll never let you down, whether it be jumping off of High Rock together for the perfect group picture shot, or pushing you to get up The Wall. I’ve never seen a more cheerful and supportive group of kids than the one’s I get to share 100 days worth of memories with.
In the end, after the Island School semester has long passed and the memories have been written down in our place books and journals, when the sunburns have faded (as well as the abs), and the tan lines have evened out, one thing will always remain: the bond you have with your dorm mates. I recently got the privilege to meet and speak to the alumni, all the way from 2002, who came to visit the Island School for a trip down memory lane. I never saw an alumnus without a smile on their face while they were visiting. The same smiles they had when they were high school sophomores and juniors hanging out with their best friends down in the best place on earth, were the same smiles I saw today. I know that the friends I make now are the friends I make for a lifetime.
Thank you for staying in close touch with us. We very much appreciate your concern and will continue to do our best to keep everyone updated.
Last night we had a beautiful sky and brisk breeze. We have 104 students, employees, volunteers and interns, and visitors in our direct care on campus and in Deep Creek. We are focused on their safety, and everyone is ok, and has a designated place to be for the weather later this afternoon.
In terms of property protection, wind and storm surge are the primary concerns we are monitoring. The information we have right now supports our preparations and precautions taken, but also gives reason to believe that the worst effects of the storm may not be taken out on our particular location.
This NOAA probability map shows campus being exposed to 74mph sustained winds (hurricane force) only within the 5% probability in the next 5 days. Which reinforces the efforts of our staff to prepare thoroughly in the case (1 in 20 chance or so) of that happening.
We are monitoring highest tides and expecting weather to increase this afternoon. Our main source of updated forecasts for this track and intensity of the storm is through the link here; the most recent forecasts do not have the center of the storm passing over Eleuthera.
NOAA modeling on likely storm surge effects provided by Weather Underground is here and, according to this, we may have storm surge of 3 to 6 feet maximum surge at high tide.
These surge levels, low compared to many other places in the Bahamas, would not infiltrate our living spaces or damage infrastructure. We don’t take the need for precaution less seriously based on these predictions or models, but they again give context to the overwrought hype on TV, or reports from other parts of north Eleuthera on the western side of the island where storm surge is modeled under the same conditions to reach over 15 feet based on the local topography and bathymetry.
Thank you all for the support and positive energy you’re sending our way and, as always, feel free to reach out with any particular questions or concerns.
We continue to prepare this week for hurricane Joaquin. Boats are out of the water, shutters are going on windows, and outdoor activities are abbreviated even as indoor classes continued Thursday morning. Our campus leadership team met again this morning to finalize plans through the weekend, which include assigning people and resources to designated buildings so everyone can shelter in place as the wind and rain intensify over the coming days.
As is customary, we have been watching this and the other storms of the season, and have stocks of food and water, medical supplies and equipment in place, and are ready to respond to needs in the wider community if we are called on. We are carefully monitoring the forecasts of the storm track and intensity, as well as tides and storm surge projections, and have made higher ground or second floor sleeping arrangements in Deep Creek and on campus for employees and students as a precaution, according to our established hurricane protocols. This is a powerful storm with high winds and rainfall expected, and storm surge possible, and out of an abundance of caution, we are taking all reasonable measures.
During and after past storms regular internet, phone, and utility power services are interrupted, and we have backup power and communications systems in place. We expect that our Boston-based team will receiving updates from campus throughout, and posting them to our Facebook page and to our blog which is the best place to look for updates.
To reach our team about specific concerns please email us at info@islandschool.org or call our US office number at (609) 620-6700. We appreciate all of the well wishes and good energy people have been sending to us. Please look for more updates daily here.
“K3, place to be!” was the slogan of our group’s three-day kayak trip. I could not have asked for a more comical group of students to kayak and camp with for 3 days. We were a strong team of passionate individuals who were not afraid of voicing opinions or leading the group. When we left on Day 1, K3 was off to a great start. We were ready to get on the water and live off the land for three days. We stopped and snorkeled for lunch and then leisurely kayaked to our campsite, Broad Creek. For dinner we ate pasta and sauce but the best part of the meal of the night was the brownies we had for dessert. We all sat in a circle eating brownies with our little bowls and spoons while admiring the stars. Life was good on K3 and we went to bed happy and full and ready for Day 2.
Day 2. Where to begin?! Tensions were high that morning as we figured out who was going to kayak in the double kayaks and who got to ride in the single kayaks. Voices were raised and everyone seemed. Our kayak trip to our lunch spot lacked the energy and excitement so evident on Day 1. We were tired and sore from sleeping on the ground, covered in bug bites from the no-see-ums, and grumpy about the kayak assignments. There was nothing to do but continue to paddle along and we stopped for lunch and snorkeled again.
After lunch, we had only just set back out on the water in our kayaks when it started to rain. We could see the dark mass of clouds rolling in from the horizon but we didn’t think it would hit us so soon. Then the thunder came, accompanied by lightning that lit up the sky. It was just our luck to be caught in the middle of a lightning storm during our paddle! We paddled to shore and huddled under a tree as a group. By now, it was raining buckets and I could barely see ten feet in front of me. The thunder and lightning grew louder and got closer and closer so we scrambled for our PFDs and assumed lightning position, squatting on the life jackets. We squatted in lightning position for over an hour.
To be very clear, that is a long time to hold a squat. Everyone was spread out along the shore, squatting on his or her life jacket and trying to ignore the thunder and lightning that was on top of us. I really thought we were going to get struck by lightning. There was one clap of thunder that was so powerful and loud that I toppled off my life jacket and fell on my face into the sand. I have never been so scared during a storm in my life because we were truly in the middle of it. There was nothing we could do but squat and wait it out. Occasionally, we would talk to each other or try to make a joke, but we basically sat in silence for over an hour. It was the first time I got cold since I arrived at The Island School. We were all shaking from the rain and dying to run into the warm ocean.
When we thought the storm had passed, Leigh and Ashley gave us the thumbs up and K3 sprinted into the ocean. At that moment, we were a group. We weren’t arguing about kayaks or fighting over whose turn it was to be in a double. We weren’t calling people out for not cleaning up or not wearing closed toed shoes. We were just happy to be together. K3 was truly the place to be. At dinner that night, we went around in a circle and shared our rose and thorn of the day. Leigh’s rose was the lightning storm (mine was the brownies). We came together as a group, supported one another, and lived in the moment. The lightning storm was the turning point in K3 and we will forever share that experience with each other.
Rock Sound, a settlement in South Eleuthera, is grounded by the history of generations living there. During settlement day 1, my group wandered around for a little bit until we found something that we thought really stood out to us as a part of the community, softball. By observing and analyzing on our own, we started to scratch the surface of what this place is like and what it’s made of. Afterwards, we came together to talk about the different things we observed. As a product of this, we also saw how worldview impacted the things we observed and how we interacted with the playground and softball practice.
My worldview has been shaped and molded by a hodgepodge of different major life events, all affecting me on a large scale in one way or another. It first started when I was little. My oldest brother has ADHD and autism, my older brother has ADHD, and my mom also has ADHD. These things are only titles, but my experiences that came of these things, these annoyances, amounts to a whole lot. My young life didn’t revolve around me. I was only a small gear in a very large chain of gears making the clock tick. The big gears were my brothers and parents people, but sometimes, they lost a cog. Time stopped in these moments. I was also the fixer, the fixer of the clock, the fixer of time. I had to spend hours tinkering away, trying to find a way to put the cog back in place without putting anything else out of balance. Even from a young age, I was very self aware and detail oriented, knowing how to read facial expressions and body language. I had to prepare for when something was about to go down. I ran around in the background making sure everything worked. There was no glory, but it was what my family needed to have done. Even though it put me through the wringer, I am glad I had those years to teach me how to act. It gave me a piece of mind, a sense of the real world not being all flowers and unicorns like my peers thought. Of course there were some major downfalls to this situation, like being more closed off and not having a strong family dynamic, but but over time I learnt to deal with these things.
A few years passed and I had gotten tired of my hometown. In 8th grade I decided to go to boarding school, but not any boarding school. I had applied to the most prestigious and most intense prep schools in the country; I wanted to go to Andover or Exeter. After much work and debate, I got into both but decided Andover was the place for me. I wanted the intensity, revolutionary exposures and mind blowing adventures. I had no idea what I started for myself. I had not anticipated the economic status of my fellow students and the institution, the hard questions I would have to ask myself about what it means to be me or face and challenge the politics and events about race, gender, sexuality, religion, and more. Although these were hard to deal with, especially as a teenager, it opened my eyes to the cruelties and possibilities of the world and forced me to delve deeper into what it means to be a human in this day and age. I gained close friends that were personally affected by many forms of oppression happening outside campus, and a community to lead me through dissecting these moments and attacking these problems. The people gave me inspirations, and the little things from Andover – community service, cycling, living in a dorm, and more, showed me another dimension of the world – both good and bad. I gained a very large slice of perspective and an additional slice of self-awareness that was unable to be given to me back home. Without Andover, I have no idea where I would be, but definitely not on this island and not even close to the level of thinking and point of view I currently have.
As another product of attending Andover, I left the country for the first time. This summer I went on a 2.5 week language, hiking, and cultural immersion program in Peru. I spent the first month of my summer traveling around Peru, experiencing Peruvian life and nature in the raw. Despite my love for travel, I was always held back by the limitations of my brothers. Even though I had exposed to a lot of the world problems in the U.S., I had never been exposed to another country in the same manner. On one hand, I extracted massive appreciation and information about Incan history and the culture of small spots in Peru, and in turn cultures all around the world, those I haven’t even encountered. Hiking through the mountain ranges for days, fully accepting and diving into the natural world. I also saw just the magnificent power of the human mind and capability. On the flip side, I saw how modern tourism and pollution is destroying these precious ancient site.
While in Rock Sound for my settlement day, my group wandered down to the Whale Hole in an attempt to find some locals. Despite the beauty of this spot, there were no people there since it was a Saturday. Just around the corner, schoolyard peeked out. Lead by the voices of a few young kids, we found a softball practice happening in the school. This was the place. This was the topic we wanted to learn about. I tried to take in everything from the details in the setting to why kids were playing softball in the first place. As Fiona Ross describes, anthropology is “a form of disciplined curiosity” (Teen Die Pad Die Bas, 9). I was simply sitting there, letting my mind run about anything I saw. I then tried to find relationships between what I was seeing and how it has shaped softball and baseball, or been shaped by their progress in Rock Sound. Fiona Ross cites Thomas Hylland Eriksen, who said the main task of anthropology is “to create astonishment, to show that the world is both richer and more complex than it is usually assumed to be” (Teen Die Pad Die Bas, 14). The first settlement day was initiating these thoughts and connections, but the second day allowed me to delve deeper into the bigger picture and the role of baseball and softball in the community. Both of these settlement days created my own astonishment. Saturdays are a rest day, suggesting to me that it would be calm and not much would be happening. But in fact, there was so much happening that I couldn’t absorb it all. The worldview of the locals in Rock Sound and past locals have shaped the physical land that we were interacting with, but also the people on the field. Everything they did from why they were playing ball to how they were playing. The locals we talked to gave us their version of information, a version created with their own worldview. Worldview was all around us. Unseeable and physically intangible, but it was surrounding us in the form of everyone who makes up the community of Rock Sound and any predecessors. This seemingly dead place surprised me, enhancing my own world view, but also those those of my group members.
My peers observed mostly the same things as me, but there were little snippets of information that missed my radar as I was observing something else. For example, I hard a few cars honking but I didn’t notice that they were honking at the kids, encouraging them and showing support. In another sense, I think I picked up on things they missed. I spent a little bit of my time exploring how the softball fit the natural world and how the natural world was interacting with this school. According to Fiona Ross, “all knowledge is produced in relation to others – those with whom we work, those with whom we share our ideas, those against whose ideas we set our own findings, and so on” (Teen Die Pad Die Bas, 12). By using the information that I missed from my peers, I got a more comprehensive grasp of the place. Although there was much similarity, just the difference in a few things helped tremendously. What creates these differences is by our worldview.
Our worldview tells our mind what details to pick up on, where to focus our attention. Our past experiences draw our focus into certain aspects to find connection between ourselves and the thing being studied. In The Cartographer Tries to Map A Way To Zion, Kei Miller explains the relationship between a local and newcomer, and how their worldview changes what is seen about the place. Where the cartographer sees a road, the rastaman hears the songs and history of the roads (The Cartographer Tries to Map A Way To Zion, 31). I tried to grasp everything while in the playground watching the softball practice. My attention to detail about the practice came from paying attention to my brothers, interpreting their every move. In a similar fashion as what I did for my brothers, I analyzed the softball player’s emotions and the coaches style of teaching. My care about the environment and the environmental interaction came from being in the outdoors. I naturally pick out the birds and the wind in the background, the trash on the ground, the plant and grass conditions from constantly having to be connected with the earth around me while hiking, cycling, and exploring. I made a lot of connections with Peru. Seeing what condition Rock Sound was in and the role tourism plays was very similar to that of the Peruvian sites that were once pristine and were now overrun by tourists and their residue. I found myself asking a lot of “What” questions, but more often I followed up with “Why” questions, even though I didn’t write them all down, I always took the next step into thinking. Andover has trained me to think about the motives and the explanation for my findings. Although I tried to remain unbiased, I think my bias came out when I was trying to find those answers. I didn’t know all that much about Rock Sound, so I had to use my best guesses from the Island School, back home, and anywhere else I had visited for an extended period of time. If I were to remain unbiased, I should have left those questions unanswered but being me, my mind automatically needs to probe around and think of possible answers before moving on. I knew they were only speculations, so I tried the best I could to make accurate assumptions but knew there was a good change they were not the right answer. Worldview impacts me and my fellow students daily, even in other Island School classes.
A main part of the marine ecology course is scuba diving at Harbour Rocks and observing a specific part of coral reef life each week. As the classes progress, I gain a more comprehensive understanding of the coral reef. These dives are very similar to settlement days. The better I pay attention to the rock, the more little details become apparent. If my mind wanders or I don’t spend the appropriate time looking at something, crucial elements are lost. Some of those moments are very rare opportunities, so it is critical that I keep my eyes peeled and attentive. Even though I have to keep eyes on the task at hand, I also have to always be aware of my surroundings and my own boundaries. If one isn’t attuned to the things around them, there can be serious consequences. In there same way, settlement days need full attention or else things can be missed. Although there isn’t a life threatening aspect to settlement days, surroundings are just as important and knowing the boundaries to show respect for the culture are critical in these situations. Although my job is to learn, I have to keep my comments and questions within reason.
My time at the settlement has been extremely positive, and I am so happy this project exists because otherwise I would have never known about the places like this on Eleuthera and the history behind them. Not only has it taught me things about the connections inside and outside of Eleuthera, it has taught me about my interest in culture and worldview. I never really thought about how and why we see different things, and that those things could be so deeply rooted in us as humans. Whether or not we use our worldview is not up to us. It is omnipresent. It has personally shaped each and every one of us into different people. My worldview has greatly shaped my time in Rock Sound observing and absorbing, as well as the locals who have provided me with the culture which I am learning and growing from. I hope to continue delving deeper into the ideas of culture and worldview with experiences such as these.
At home, thunder and lightning doesn’t bother me. In fact, I kind of like it. It’s cool to watch and experience from the safety of my home or another solid building. Here at The Island School you never know where you’re going to be when a thunderstorm hits. You could be in the dorms, the dining hall, out in the field, or out on kayak.. Watching from the dining hall or the dorms can be fun. Watching storms while on kayak trips or out in the field is less fun but much more of an adventure.
This past Monday I was out in the field catching and tagging rays with my research team. Seas were choppy as we headed out on the boat to our research site and in the distance you could see the storm clouds rolling in. Eventually I was dropped off to investigate a bit of sediment that was kicked up. It was hard to tell whether or not it was a ray simply because it was so big. Pretty soon I figured it out though. It was a huge ray, the biggest we have caught yet. We used both a barrier net and black hand nets but this ray could barely fit. As we caught the ray and secured its barb we felt rain begin to sprinkle. By the time we started taking measurements of the ray it was pouring and Nick, an Island School teacher, and Owen, our research advisor, were counting the seconds between thunder and lightning. More than 30 seconds. We were in the clear just then but kept counting.
I had to run to the boat to get a notebook and sprinted the whole way. The water kept getting deeper and by the time I reached the boat it was up to my waist. I grabbed the notebook and started back, I have never been more scared in my entire life. We continued counting the lightning and the gaps were shorter and shorter. Finally we released the ray and everyone started sprinting back to the boat. We all reached it safely. It was a huge relief but adrenaline was still pumping through us. The five students all sat in the front of the boat facing each other. We talked and laughed and relived the moment that had just past. I realized the experience had brought us closer as a research group and taught us the power of mother nature.
For more photos of stingray and lightning adventures, follow our research team’s activities on the Island School Flickr page!
When people think of Island School they usually think of the sustainability, kayak trips and maybe even lightning position, but rarely do we think of the run and swim tracks that accompany our daily routine.
The six o’clock wake up time may be brutal but once we are out the door the energy of the morning sun soon energizes the faces around morning circle. However, the real fun starts after circle when we go off into our chosen tracks to either run or swim.
Run starts off with a little warm up around the horseshoe: generally a light jog dotted with stretches for the running muscles. Then we often head off of campus for the two miles to High Rock across the Cape. The path is a snake of concrete road which has even more potholes than the average Bahamian road. The run can seem endless with a false sense of hope, encountering decoy turn-offs to High Rock around every corner. Almost as soon as we complete the journey there, we’ll then turn around for the two mile return trip back to campus where the flagpole finish line greets us with a familiar feeling of satisfaction.
Similar to run track, swim track starts off with some stretching before their early morning plunge into the ocean. Now that it’s the third week of tracks, our classmates are now up to a mile-long, “Pole Swim” from Boathouse Cut to the Marina pole, usually they are given twenty minutes to swim there and 20 minutes to swim back. Much of the time swimmers encounter a current that can either make you feel like Michael Phelps or like you are actually swimming backwards, depending on the tide.
Both tracks show great energy and focus for their respective goals–to run thirteen miles for run track or swim four miles for swim track. What may have seemed like an impossible task in the beginning is slowly becoming possible with hard work and dedication, just two of the many qualities The Island School will instill in each student over the course of the semester.
Looking back on my time as an Island School student, the question everyone asked was “will it be hard to leave this place and go back home?” Although I met some of the most interesting people, grew immensely as an individual and became part of such a powerful community, I wasn’t sad to leave. I never understood why that was until I came back two years later.
I’ve learned that once you’ve been part of the Island School in one capacity or another, it never leaves you. The elements of this place have a subtle way of weaving into your life in everything you do. Inside I knew I’d always be back and two years later I am back as part of my gap year!
For the first four months of my gap year (August-December) I am working at the Island School as a communications intern. Working along with the communications team, I take photos of students and the various CEI research teams, as well as make videos to promote the goals of the School. I’m gaining incredible experience from this position and it’s fantastic being part of this community once again. Everyday I’m energized by the work I do and the people I’m around, which is sometimes a rare thing to find in a job.
Following my departure from the Island School in December, I am heading to Kauai, Hawaii for two weeks to travel and pursue photography opportunities. I am hoping the two weeks can be extended depending on what opportunities emerge.
In early February I travel to Oxford, England to begin my internship with the Children’s Radio Foundation, which promotes radio programming by and for youth in many different African countries. I will spend 3 months with the Foundation and I will be photographing local projects and working as a member of their communications team.
Once summer comes, I’ll be doing some solo backpacking around the UK for a few weeks before heading to Western Europe to backpack various countries from Norway to Greece. Come fall 2016 my adventures will head to the United States where I will be attending Lewis and Clark College in Portland, Oregon. Undecided on my major, I’m keeping it broad and looking into anthropology, photography and journalism.
Needing a break from traditional schooling, I am fortunate to have time to work on my own growth within the greater world. I’m taking a gap year because I believe in the power of travel, the value of interacting with humans outside of one’s bubble, and the importance of supporting a community that is making the world better. I know that for myself to grow as a person, I need to delve deeper into new places and experiences. Every day is a happy adventure and I truly have found my passion back here!
If you were at boat house cut on August 31st at around noon, you would have seen thirteen eager students holding paddles up towards the sky – the sign that we were all ready to depart on our three day kayak trip.
When we first set off, we were traveling at a speedy pace, with Helen Roosevelt leading the diamond shaped pod, Justin Box and Katie Koch acting as the sides and I was holding up the rear. Eventually, Catherine Klem and Ian Overton, our leaders for the three days, gave us the signal that we would stop for lunch. When we pulled up for lunch near the lemon shark pen that was about three miles down the coast from the Island School, everyone was tired, but we all helped set up the lunch tarp and lay out our food. Then we took our PB&Js into the clear blue ocean that was the perfect temperature for lunch in the water.
We soon set off again and after passing two or three mangrove-ridden islands, we arrived at our campsite. We all got out of our kayaks and handed out jobs. With speed and elegance, we brought the kayaks up on the shore, unloaded the group gear, and flipped the kayaks for safe keeping through the night. After all of the group gear, food, and kayaks were taken care of, we then moved on to setting our hammocks that we would sleep in for the night.
Later, we all helped gather firewood for our fire that would be used for cooking our meal of rice, beans, and vegetables. As a treat, we were surprised with marshmallows that we roasted over the fire and cooked to a golden brown.
That night, everyone brushed their teeth and attached their dry bags to trees in case a sudden Bahamian storm rolled in. Then we all zipped up our bug nets to our hammocks under the light of the full moon, and we fell asleep.
On day two of our kayak trip, we headed out to the blue hole. Once we finished the two and a half mile trip down the coast, we pulled into a little bay and attached our kayaks to the nearby mangroves. Then, we all helped in setting up lunch of tortillas, peanut butter, and jelly were all laid out on the tarp and we all feasted awaiting the upcoming blue hole snorkel.
We put on our snorkeling gear and out to the blue hole. We were all in pairs of twos (the buddy system) and swimming eagerly to the site. When I approached, I saw the white sand with some seaweed on the bottom, Cam Reisinger and Owen Ryerson were on either side of me, and then I saw the blue hole. Suddenly the sand dropped off into a black abyss. The blue hole was covered in coral and filled with fish of all different shapes and colors. We dove down and looked around to see more coral that had fish nibbling on the ends of it. Everyone was stunned at the amazing blue hole and all of the life that was around it.
After we snorkeled in and around the blue hole for twenty or thirty minutes, we went back to our boats and kayaked back to our campsite.
The next and last day of our trip, everyone was sad to be packing up their hammocks because, even though it was only two nights, everyone had an amazing time and we were all sad that we had to leave. After we had breakfast and packed the kayaks, we were on our way. We paddled past the shark pen to a new lunch spot, about half way between our previous campsite and the Island School. We all ate the PB&Js as we had the previous two lunches, and we played a game in the little bay where our boats were beached. After thirty minutes or so, we left for The Island School.
Once we arrived, we were all tired and a bit sad that we were at the end of such and incredible trip. We put our boats away and gave everyone high fives for having finished and for such an incredible trip. Now, we are all excited about going on our eight-day trip with new people and creating new memories.