1609

What is the logical thing to do the morning after a hen party?  Have a pedicure booked for 9am of course.  And so, somewhat tired, I began my day a little earlier than a rational mind would have and headed to the Fairmont Hamilton Princess and the Invermurie Day spa to get my toenails ready for the beach wedding.  Despite the 2 cups of coffee they served me during the process, I was still feeling tired and a little overwhelmed, not just from the Hen night the night before, but 3 weeks of off island friends visiting, getting ready to leave Bermuda, long shifts at work. and much more to come.  Here's another aside for any of the male readers.  Overwhelmed is a term females use when they find themselves emotionally topsy turvy and completely out of sorts.  It's the thing that can make a girl who hates pink choose pepto bismal pink as the color for the beauty technician to color her nails and later find hers self irrationally shedding a few tears into her coffee cup on a spa day and feeling absolutely manic.  There is nothing sane or rational about it, and even a little shopping didn't fix it.  There are only 2 other know cures (since shopping didn't work), and that's girlfriend time and a nap.  Fortunately I had a chance to do both and i am once again rendered mentally fit, or as close as I get, although I will be reminded of what I deemed an exhaustion induced psychotic break for quite some time whenever I look at my feet and those bright pink toes.

Yes, that is my giant, pink tipped foot

So, with my little bag of goodies from A.S. Cooper on front street, I met up with Siobhan who also had the day off and we decided to lunch at the newest spot in Bermuda, 1609 by the new pool at the Hamilton Princess.  The Hamilton Princess is doing some serious renovations this year, both to the rooms and decor of one wing of the hotel, the pool area, and the dining.  It is looking fabulous!  Why 1609?  You will recall from previous blogs that the Sea Venture was built in 1609 as the first of England's new style of ship designed for emigration rather than battle alone.  She launched in June 1609 and was headed to the Jamestown colony, but a hurricane forced her out to sea and she wrecked on Bermuda's reef in St. George's on her maiden voyage in July of 1609.  And so in 1609, all on board, 150 people and a dog, survived and became Bermuda's first residents, albeit it temporary at this time.

It was lovely.  The covered patios afford a wonderful seaside view of the harbour, a cool ocean breeze, and a shaded roof from the sun.  The staff was attentive and excellent, and in addition to the 2 hostesses and our waiter checking on us, the manager and the maitre d' did the same.  We were only there for lunch, and as a warning one is paying resort prices, but this is not the first or last $20 hamburger I will have in Bermuda, and I think it was my favorite $20 hamburger to be fair.

Girl time at 1609 with Siobhan

We had a lovely afternoon, and my lovely friend Siobhan as always had a gift in her bag for me -- she bought me a little painting of a Longtail from a Bermuda artist at Harbour nights (knowing how I have struggled to get a good photo of those things).  In exchange, I had a bright floral makeup bag stashed with goodies from the cosmetic counter at A.S. Cooper for each of us -- gotta love Bonus Time!  She reaffirmed that my madness was most likely temporary, and we had a lovely lunch and catch up before I headed home for some more girl chat with Barb on Facebook, and the end all be all cure for overwhelmedness...a nap!

1609 and almost naptime!

Hen Night

In Canada, we say stagette.  In England, they say Hen Night.  And since the bride of our week is English, Wednesday night shall be dubbed Hen Night.  It was meant to be a quiet gathering for a cocktail and toast at the Pickled Onion where all the female attendees of the wedding would meet and gather to toast Louise.  However, we decided that a little something was missing, and we decided to add a little element of silliness to the night to give our beautiful and lovely friend the mortifying send off into married life that she truly deserved.

The now adorned bride and the  maid of honor on a fuzzy phone photo at Pickled Onion

And so our lovely bride to be was adorned in a sparkly banner proclaiming her as such to match her fascinator, and some X-rated straws were served with the cocktails.  She was also required to perform a dare from a deck of cards at every mention of her husbands name.  And in an effort to complicate her attempts to not say his name, a fuzzy pink mascot for the evening also named Steve was brought along.  to her credit, she was able to refrain from saying his name quite well, so we just made her do dares anyway.  Kudos on her for getting the bartender to let her apply bright lipstick to him, and kudos to the staff at Pickled Onion for putting up with us.

Our next stop was over to the Hog Penny to hear Will Black play.  It was open mic night, and so a few people got on stage to sing, and most everyone had a dance.  I didn't take many photos, but I did take one of the mascot we had named Steve.

Steve looking dapper in his bow tie

I suspect the boys night party on the beach was often thinking of their ladies out on the town, because earlier that day this little vehicle had pulled into town.

Hen Night + navy ship  Someone wrote the right letter to Santa....I suspect it was one of the navy!

That's right, the Canadian Navy ship had arrived and was parked a block from the Hen Night.  It could be my imagination, but it seemed that a couple of the lads from the wedding arrived to retrieve their girlfriends a little earlier than expected that evening.  They need not have worried, most of the navy lads were very very short  with strange moustaches and just happy to be out in Bermuda and find a gaggle of girls to ask to dance on a Wednesday night.  They even took our friend Steve with a good dose of humor and sang a few songs with him and Will Black.  Thanks again Will and the Hog Penny for putting up with us...again.

Just another random night in Bermuda

Tom Moore and Spanky the Dog

Blogging about Tom Moore's Tavern is long overdue.  It has been one of our favorite restaurants on the island for several years.  When Dev arrived for a week's visit, he had a short to do list, mostly of culinary delights, and the quail at Tom Moore's one right near the top.

Tom Moore's Tavern

Tom Moore's tavern is the oldest restaurant on the island.  It was built in 1652 as a private residence, and converted to a tavern a mere century or so ago.  As we pulled into the driveway, Siobhan related that Tom Moore was Irish.  And he was, and a famous poet to boot.  In his short time at Bermuda, he wrote about the island in some of his poetry, and allegedly had a scandalous affair.  In his somewhat dubious honor, we have Tom Moore's Tavern, which the website hints that he may have been at back when it was a private residence.

Helen, Dev, and Siobhan on a random Tuesday at Tom Moore's

The food is fit for a King.  Literally.  Prince Charles dined here in 1970.  I don't think he has been back to Bermuda, which is surprising after eating here, I would charter a jet at least once a month if I have billions.  In fact, the couple next to us had flown in from California, and have been dining with Bruno (I believe Bruno is the maitre d'hotel) several times a year for the last 20 years.   In all of our repeat visits, we have never been snickerdoodled.  (aside -- snickerdoodle is a term we have adopted to describe that feeling when you go to a restaurant and have the most amazing desert ever that you think was called a snickerdoodle and you spend years telling everyone about it and when you finally go back there to dine and refuse to share desert with anyone and ask for the snickerdoodle, the waiter looks at you like you are nuts and tells you they have the snicker bar desert and when all eyes are on you as you take the first bite and your incredible disappointment becomes legendary.  That is being snickerdoodled).  I say again, no one has ever been snickerdoodled at Tom Moore's.  And we always order the same meal we had that very first time because we can't imagine anything better.  In fact, I even wore the same dress from one of our other dinners here.

Helen, myself, and Siobhan

Tom Moore's treats you well, and is the kind of place you want to come back to.  The staff are excellent, and most of them have been there for many years and have given incredible service whenever we arrive.  If you want to bring your kids, great.  If you want to bring your dogs, I have seen that too.  It is posh, but not uptight.  You are made comfortable, and if your table's laughter drowns out the Celine Dion CD in the background, nobody minds.  In fact, the neighbouring table joined in our conversation during dinner, and shared a little bit about their life, their Bermuda experiences, their cat collection, and the story of Spanky the Dog.  The wife threw in a mortified disclaimer i  advance, but knew her husband was unstoppable once the Spanky story came out.  Having overheard our conversation about waking up with cats staring you down in bed, the husband said "Excuse me, I can't help but say I know exactly what you mean."  They proceeded to introduce themselves, show pictures of their 7 cats and mention the wife's work in animal rescue in LA, and then talk about a certain "uncle" who married a lovely lady with a dog named Spanky.  Upon moving in with the wife and Spanky after the nuptials, on the wedding night, Spanky became jealous and leaped and nipped a certain delicate anatomical part.  It goes without saying that the wedding night was not what was planned, and a certain "uncle" made his first trip to Bermuda with his new wife and an ice pack on his lap for the flight.  We howled with laughter between the to die for entrees of beef tenderloin, quail, and homemade pasta and the round of deserts, including creme brulee, panna cotter, and I think there was a chocolate brownie in the mix.  The Spanky story will forever be entwined with Tom Moore's in my mind, and I am still smiling recalling it.

Surprisingly, I could not finish my entree and manage desert, so I saved some and got it wrapped to go.  The very first time we had attended this restaurant, our friend Simon was with us and also had some leftovers.  They do not use a Styrofoam container (they get a bonus green point for that), but rather wrap it in tinfoil and twist the extra length into a handle for ease of carrying,  Initially we had all laughed at Simon, with his shiny silver accessory that looked just like a little clutch purse.  He tried to counter that it wasn't a purse, and instead dubbed it the "Meat Sack," to try to make it a little more manly.  This terminology didn't exactly slow down the mockery train that had already left the station.  We still get a round of laughs when  we argue about whether it is a meat purse or a meat sack.  I had a meat purse on this occasion and took a little picture.

The meat purse

Now in this next photo, blast from the past from 2011, you can see Simon holding the meat bag -- I will let the public decide if this is a meat purse or meat sack.

The first ever dinner at Tom Moore's 2011 -- Meat Purse, or Meat Sack?  -- with Devl myself, Cherie, and Simon

A good time is always had by all at Tom Moore's.  Aside from outstanding food and service, a quaint and elegant historical building, the ambiance makes the night perfect.

Pink Sandcastles and Pirate's Gold

Quite a day.  I am knackered and ready for bed but know if I skip writing a quick blog tonight that I will just fall further behind.  If I had to write a simple summary it would go something like "panoramas, reunions, champagne, rainbows on beaches, friends, and pink sandcastles in my shower."  That doesn't even quite cover it, so I guess I will start typing.

I started the day with an abundance of kitty snuggles and extra coffee that I indulge in on days off.  I met up with my friend Dev.

Oh, who was I kidding, I went to bed without finishing the blog.  It's morning so will try again.  I met up with my friend Dev with the intent to go and take some pictures.  The first stop was here so he could say hi to the kitty kids...Lexi hissed at him and the Panthers hid out.  Our friends Steve and Louise had arrived in town --they are the guests of honor this week they both lived here, met here, and have returned to get married here.  The plan evolved from going to explore St. David's to exploring the Cathedral and sites around town so that we could meet at Spring Garden for some cuisine in the Barbados or Bajan style...specifically roti.

The smaller side of the Cathedral of the Most Holy Trinity

We paid the $3 admission to ascend to the top of the tower in the church and get a nice lookout of the island.  There are just as many stairs as I remember from last time, but it's not too bad if you are mobile, but the elderly couple ahead of us were having second thoughts at the beginning. As an aside if you don't like stairs, it is always free to roam about the interior of the main floor and see the architecture and stained glass.

Some of the stained glass side windows

About 2/3 of the way back from the altar

A view of Hamilton from up top

We headed down to Albouy's Point, checked out the view from there as well as a nice yacht that was in town for a visit.  Mostly I tried to get closer to this Kiskadee that was atop a statue.  The statue is called "We Arrive" and was unveiled in Barr's Bay Park in 2010 to commemorate an incident from a darker time in history back in 1835 when a slave ship called the Enterprise was forced into Bermuda's waters by storm.  Britain had banned slavery in the colonies, so when this ship travelling from Virginia to South Carolina was forced out to sea in a hurricane it had to seek assistance from the British base in Bermuda.  The British orders were to release the 78 enslaved men, women, and children -- they were then interviewed by the local court officials and given the option to remain in Bermuda or return to America with the ship.  Oddly enough only 72 remained,  This was the most famous such event, but not the first on Bermuda's shores, and not uncommon on other colonial islands at the time.  Nonetheless, this is the story that was chosen for this statues, and here it is, with and without a Kiskadee on top.

With Kiskadee

"We Arrive" statue without Kiskadee

Just some pretty boats in the harbour

And then it was off to Spring Garden.  The last time I ate there was about a year ago when Dev was also on island for a visit.  Despite the lengthy time between visits, the waiter broke into a huge grin and came over, shook our hands, and asked if we wanted the usual round of Lemonade, and if Dev would be having Lamb Roti.  A few minutes later Steve and Louise walked in and received a similar warm welcome.  Everyone remarked that this is one of the nicest things about Bermuda -- walking into an old haunt and the staff being genuinely happy to see you, as well as walking down the street and running into multiple people you know, etc.  I have not seen Steve for 3 years, but it could have been yesterday.  The reunion was just an immediate return to old patterns of conversation, summed up nicely in this Blackberry photo.  Anyone who knows this crew can pretty much make up the dialogue from the expressions on their faces.

Caption this as you will

After that the decision was made to go out to Marley Beach for a swim.  We picked up bottle of Prosecco, and walking down the road I heard my name called.  I looked across the street to see Lisa from Boston, freshly landed on the island for the wedding, and Laura.  Soon thereafter, we were all frolicking on the sands of the private beach at Marley.  The day certainly brought up some funny memories -- and as I have mentioned before, one person isn't enough to remember all the crazy and funny stories...it takes a collective memory between friends.  No sooner had we hit the water than Steve stopped swimming for a moment and said "Oh my....I have just remembered the last time we were all on this beach..." and loads of other memories came flooding back.  We took a little swim out to a coral boiler, and then back to shore.  Some of the south shore beaches have a riptide, and I am not a good swimmer, but apparently if you are a diver you also understand that the water around Bermuda has a higher buoyancy than some places due to what I think is a higher salt concentration.  This means I made a pretty easy swim there and back, which isn't bad for "a flatlander' (aka person from landlocked Saskatchewan).  When almost back on shore I made the same rookie move I always make...turning my back on the waves while playing in shallow sand, getting pummelled by an unforeseen rogue beach wave, getting knocked off my feet, dragged back into the ocean for a quick churning, and then slowly spit back up on the sand face first by the next returning wave.    I almost thought no one was going to catch this awkward moment, but Steve pointed and laughed, drawing every one's attention to the moment about 3 seconds before I would have been within the reach of dignity.  Thanks for that Steve.

Scene of the crime  -- literally, as we had some murder mystery parties here...and loads of other ones too

Back on solid ground, I sheepishly retreated to my towel, and we sat around to dry out and plot the pirate map.  Missing this week is our friend Simon, who is in Malaysia today, en route to who knows where.  Simon, Dev, and Steve all lived at Marley, so it's their home base and semi private playground.  When Simon left the island last fall, he got a bottle of special reserve rum from Goslings, the Bermuda rum company, and buried it.  He sent the treasure map to Steve so that he would be able to hunt for it and dig it up later.  So we were sitting on the beach plotting probable locations to find the buried treasure, but, no one had a sand shovel available at that moment (although I suspect Steve just wanted to dig it up after we all left).

Just as we climbed back up stairs on the cliff to make it back to the patio, we got yet another light shower of rain.  At least this time I was already wet.  We opened the Prosecco, toasted the bride and groom to be, and caught a beautiful rainbow shining over the beach.  It was a beautiful day with lots of beautiful scenery -- the parrot fish were so large that we could see them in the water from the balcony several hundred feet away as well.

Finally we were off, time for a quick shower which resulted in enough pink sand in my shower to build a small sandcastle mansion (must have been acquired when I get dragged along the beach by the rogue wave).  Of course it was only a theoretical pink sand castle, because moments later it was time to mobilize to Coconut Rock for sushi and meeting up with a few more friends.  Andy came out, as well as Steve and Erika (Erika is awesome, she had a picture of her cat in a snowsuit --in Bermuda -- which makes my level of crazy cat lady get downgraded, plus she is just a really cool girl), and Mike.  Again, fresh faces in the reminiscing and a whole slew of other stories were able to be enjoyed again!

Back in C-Rock after a long abscence...yes that is a water in front of me

And that was my day in Bermuda yesterday.

Three Drowned Rats

A day off!!  After a brief sleep in I started sending texts to plan the day and hopped on my scooter!  My friends from Edmonton were at their last morning at St. George's Club and heading back home today.  I let them remain anonymous for the first blog, but now that they know about it they can be named -- Tracey (with an E as she usually mentions when introduced, Brad, and their kids Nicholas and Alexander).  My friend Dev who is visiting from Qatar had already taken in a sunrise and was in St. George's.  "Bring sunblock!" he said.  I headed that way for breakfast with the Edmonton friends and texted Shibby, who is always up for an adventure, and told her "grab a helmet and hop a bus to St. George's to join the expedition!"

Shibby made it in time for a quick visit with the Edmonton friends before they departed for home.  Brad gives good hugs I must say, and Tracey loaded me up with extra food and a new hat.  Her hug was good too, but it was the glance out the window as the taxi pulled away that made me want to grab on to the fender and just drag behind for a while to extend the farewell.  It was so incredibly wonderful to see them again that I was remiss to let them drive off.  I also got good hugs from both boys, and my daily hug from Sherbert, the world's most amazing Teddy Bear...the tales I heard of that bear...let me tell you, he is one busy bear.  His fur is almost rubbed right off, the sign of a well loved bear.  Their family has been in my thoughts all day, and I am hoping to hear that they are home safe and sound, and that all is well soon.

When friends leave, I always feel a little sad, a little lonely, a little homesick, even a little lost.  It usually only lasts a day or two, but it's not my favorite feeling.  Fortunately, I had Shibby on the back of my Scooter and Dev was pulling in just as their taxi left.  We had cameras ready for an adventure and headed off to Ferry Reach where I wanted to find an abandoned train station I had heard of.  We added sunscreen, and went in the park area which was even more beautiful than the part I have photographed earlier.  We roamed a few trails without pulling out the cameras because we had our hands full with picnic supplies.  We found the cemetery made for the soldiers who died of yellow fever and it is striking.  I made a note to get back to it once we had unloaded after our lunch.  As a cloud moved in on our beautiful blue sky day, we sat down to have lunch and let the cloud pass.  We enjoyed Alexander's left over pizza from Tavern at the Sea, Tracey and Brad's leftover Wahoo from the same meal, and some fruit from their hotel fridge.  That little grey cloud started to sprinkle, so we decided to wait it out since it was just a drizzle.  A few seconds later, the skies opened and a downpour ensued.  We were a good 10 mins from the bikes, and with all our camera gear.  We tried to burrow a little deeper into the trees....but that just resulted in water pouring off the leaves and running down our backs.

 Nothing we could do about it, we were already wet, we were only going to get wetter, so we decided to walk in the rain back to the bikes.  The thing about it is, summer just refuses to arrive this year.  This rain was not warm summer rain...it was really really cold rain.  And that theory about not getting any wetter was proven wrong about a minute further down the road when the rain intensified into an absolute deluge.  Shibby and I took refuge under an outcropping in the trees that was moderately less wet, but there was only room for two.  Dev went a few paces ahead to wait under another tree...but even though we were a little sheltered it was clear that he was getting pelted and drenched.  Dev has a very distinct accent that is half British and half Australian.  Shibby and I had just wordlessly agreed that we couldn't stand in the shelter while he was getting wet when we heard "Aaaah, the sunscreen is running, it's burning my eyes!"  Once more, we said, it isn't going to get any worse than this, so we plucked along the trail.  "Today's blog should be called Three Drowned Rats," Shibby said.  As we got to the bikes, the rain let up.  Had it been warmer out, we may have dried out a bit.  I looked over at Shibby, dishevelled, dripping wet, but at least still smiling in her khaki shorts and floral print top.  Then I looked at Dev, who was wearing boarder shorts and a Lycra T-shirt that were now clinging to him, and thought "hussy."  I tried not to imagine which of the two of them I resembled.

Since the rain had stopped, we started making plans.  For some bizarre reason X-Men was only playing at one time on a Sunday and we had already missed it.  We considered trying to head to St. David's for photos, and fortunately I was overruled.  I say fortunately because about 200 meters into our drive the rain started again.  A hard heavy rain, even worse than before.  At the first intersection I stopped to see if Shibby wanted me to take shelter with the bike somewhere.  She bravely said to carry on.  And we made it about 2 more kilometers before the pounding rain wore her down, which feels like hail on your face and body on a bike, and mid story she says "It's very painful this rain."  Much to the amusement of a few cyclists already sheltering in the bus stop (the very bus stop the police jumped out of to ticket me a few days ago), we walked in and waited for Dev to arrive on his slightly slower rental scooter.  There was nothing to do but laugh at how ridiculous we looked and wait out the rain.  It did eventually subside, and we were able to carry on the long, cold ride back home -- not without enduring the splashes from oncoming traffic, one which was big enough that we both shrieked as a wave of water crashed down on us in the wake of a taxi and re soaked us from about the chest down.  "At least that was kind of warm water," Shibby said.  We scooted past poor Dev, leaning forward on his scooter going up a hill trying to gain speed, and laughed the rest of the way home.

So, that was it, the Bermuda expedition was a bit of a fail today.  But the day is rarely ever a total fail, so we regrouped and went to the Hog Penny for an amazing supper and were joined by the lovely Helen and Beattie.  The food was really really good, and I always love the music, so The Hog Penny gets a thumbs up!  Will Black, the resident rock star, walked in and walked by our table and gave us a sly grin, which we had earned during our Friday night expedition in Hamilton.  That particular expedition had many legendary moments that will keep us laughing for years, but this photo surfaced today which at least explained Will's grin.

Who can resist belting out a Bryan Adams song?

That story lead to a lot of riotous laughter and a recap of Friday night, and many from the past.  But that is another story for another time.

Another week slips away

Somehow it's already Wednesday again.  I think I just wrote about Harbour Nights a couple of blogs again, but I found myself there again tonight.  A lot happened in the week, but I won't get too far into it.  To sum it up, I have become internationally renowned as an amateur psychic/psychologist, will soon be able to report on how traumatic it is to have a traffic violation in Bermuda (let you know after the court date, but let's just say the experience could have been better if people were just nicer), spent more time with the visitors in many more restaurants and with many more memories (apparently there was a phase I went through in my 20's with flammable drinks that it still most memorable, and I was still thinking about the story of the Flaming Mo rather than my speedometer when the incident with the popo occurred), managed to work every day since the last Harbour nights, and attend a special screening of a short film documenting the history of the Sea Venture -- the wreck that resulted in Bermuda's colonization in 1609.  I might add that there were some pretty handsome research scientists both in the film and on sight (totally serious), so that was one of the bonuses of the week.  I thoroughly enjoyed the film, and recommend anyone on the island drop by BUEI to see it.  Here is a link to the teaser, a short 2 min summary (including the handsome scientist).  Click on the title below to see this (you won't be sorry!)

Sea Venture film teaser

Watch for some upcoming Bermuda features -- PBS will be showing a documentary next year for the 150 year anniversary of the Civil War about the Mary Celestia, a Civil War blockage runner that wrecked on Bermuda's reefs.  Intact bottles of wine and a bottle of perfume were recovered recently, so this story has marine archaeologists, perfumists, smelliers, and war buffs totally hot and bothered.  National Geographic has been working nearby on a project in the Sargasso Sea which is due out next year, and one of those photographers is coming back this summer to document the unique flora and fauna of Bermuda.  Those photos will be starting to come available on www.nonsuchisland.com.  If you take a look there, that cute and fluffy little thing on the homepage is a baby cahow, the second rarest of all seabirds.  Bermuda has done a great job of creating a protected area for them, and actually building little nests in the rocks for them.

Anyway, after work I met my guests for a quick tour of the botanical gardens.  I had to rush off when my phone beeped and reminded me of where I needed to be.  The phone is worse than a diary.  If I ever lost it someone would have a blast reading all the calendar entries with my to do list.  For example, someone asked me today if I could do something and I texted back that I had added them to the list below 'go to the naughty shop.'  Yup.  A girl from work is getting married and somehow the "hen party" shopping ended up on my list and so I must take a hit for the team and enter "Eve's Garden," which is at least conveniently located below Flanagan's in case I need a beer first.

After that I met with them for supper and we wandered down through Harbour Nights.  Tonight there was a parade with both the Bermuda Regiment and the Scottish veterans.  I have to confess I love the bagpipes and a Scottish marching band.  After that it was time to pick up a few items as souvenirs...for myself when I go.  I grabbed 4 beautiful ceramic coasters, each was a different picture on a bright red background with Bermuda written on it...a fish, Hibiscus and the like.  My guests pointed out that the Graham Foster prints were only $30 each so I promptly bought 2 signed prints to take home and frame.  He even gave me a deal and agreed to a photo -- I told him I was pre-planning for the 2075 season of Antiques Roadshow so that I could prove the "provenance" and tell the story of how I bought his pictures from a booth he had on the street in Hamilton one summer night in 2014.  Graham Foster paints in a manner that is a little like "Where's Waldo," a little cartoon, a little real, and a lot of Bermuda.  He is most well known for his mural in the Commissioner's House at Dockyard where he painted a 2 story scene depicting the history of Bermuda for its 400th Anniversary.  Here are a couple of literal snapshots of that mural.

The wreck of the Sea Venture as depicted by Graham Foster in his 2009 Mural at Royal Naval Dockyards

Graham Foster's pictorial of Bermuda on display at Dockyard

Glow Worms!

A few days ago I mentioned that there are innumerable things to do in Bermuda, and that many of them are brief, but should be experienced all the same.  Nothing is a better example of this than the Glow Worms.

Odontodyllis enopia is the Bermuda Glow Worm.  While reports of the Glow worm date back to Columbus approaching the America's, this particular critter is currently known to inhabit the shallow waters around Bermuda.  Not being all that big on worms, I really can't vouch for any other worms anywhere else in the world.  If the descendants of Columbus' worms survived the industrialization of the America's and still hang out over there, I have not yet heard of them.  So in my limited worm knowledge, I can safely say that these are the only glowing worms I have ever heard about.

Here's the deal.  If you want to see the glow worms, you have to make a pretty dedicated plan to do so.  You can only see the glow worms between May and October to start with.  In addition to that, you can only see them on those months on the 2nd and 3rd days after a full moon.  So now you need a calendar, and a lunar chart if you are serious about this.  That's a good start.  Next you need an weather report with sun and moon times and an accurate watch.  That's because you can only see them between May and October on the 2nd and 3rd nights after a full moon, at precisely 56 minutes after official sunset.  At exactly that time the female worms rise to the surface and emit a phosphorescent goo to attract the males.  The males race to the top, emitting a green bioluminescent flash to signal that they are coming, and in a literal neon green flurry of squirmy flashing fecundity that can be measured in seconds, it's all over for another lunar cycle.  You also need to be in a good location at this precise time, just to make the challenge interesting,  This whole thing is a bit perplexing to me.  I don't know if I am more bothered by the fact that this next photo is the best picture I have of this event, or if it is more unnerving that a bunch of invertebrate worms are better at organization, scheduling, and astrology than I am.  I think the next chance to see them will be June 15th at 9:23 pm, but I warned you, the worms are better at this than me.

I tried to watch them once at Flatt's Village but they were scarce.  The dock at Ferry Reach is supposed to be a good place to see them (See "The Forts at Ferry Reach"), or Bermuda Underwater Exploration Institute does summer boat tours to see the worms.  I think my best viewing was when a friend, Steve, took a couple of us out in a boat to some of the smaller islands...not only did we see lots of neon green worm sex, but it was pretty cool to cruise back to shore in the boat at night.  There were numerous fish drawn to the light that were leaping alongside the boat all the way -- quite the thing for this "flatlander" (Saskatchewan girl) to see fish flying along side us at "road speed".  That memory definitely still makes me smile!

This video was on the local news, it may give you a better idea.  That chirping in the background is Bermuda's Whistling Frog.