But, as far as I was concerned, Tom was my expert and guide and nothing else.
I just hoped that Tom felt the same way. And that he didn’t think I was leading him into a romantic getaway by inviting him along. Although, technically, he’d invited himself along.
I do trust my instincts, however, and I certainly didn’t get any untoward vibes off him.
So, I’ll have to assume he’s a gentleman.
Besides, I need him not only because he knows the island terrain but because he has the permit and, also because he’s an expert in butterflies. I’ll also need him later, to write the expert’s verification statement, on my petition for protected status on Waterfall Cay.
I went back to imagining the nature trail on Luminaire. Tom said that the rainforest was dense and verdant and lush, lit with streams of diffused sunlight pouring through the ancient treetops. It sounded so similar to Waterfall Cay that I was convinced it was where we would find our prize. I tossed and turned until the glow of dawn started to creep over The Pitons. Then I gave up trying to sleep and checked the time on my phone. It was 6a.m.
I’d arranged to meet Tom at 7a.m. at a supplies warehouse on the road to the airport.
We were going to need camping equipment as there are no hotels at all on Luminaire.
But before then, I had to let my sons know where I was going.
I’d made a firm promise to them a while ago, that I’d always let them know my plans.
It was 10a.m. in London. When Josh answered my call, he was finishing his coffee break in work and Lucas was on a train heading into the city. Hardly conducive to a proper conversation.
But I did manage to explain to them that I was going off grid for a few days.
‘I’m heading to a small island today and I doubt I’ll get internet or a phone signal.’
‘Why are you going there, mum?’ Josh wanted to know.
‘If it’s remote then it could be dangerous!’ Lucas warned.
‘I’m going on a nature trail. But don’t worry, I have an expert guide with me, so I’ll be fine!’
A bit of internet research informed me that Luminaire is known as ‘the natural island’ in the Caribbean because it is so undeveloped and untouristy compared to its neighbours. It was so named by Christopher Columbus, when he came across it at night under a full moon, with its volcanic form surrounded by a heavy white mist and lit from within by millions of synchronously twinkling fireflies.
In the fourteenth Century, it was a trading station and a sheltering place from storms, offering respite to the Spanish treasure fleets after a long journey over the Atlantic from Europe and while heading into San Juan on Puerto Rico.
Sir Frances Drake too, was known to have used the island as a resting place. He’d used the busy trading centre as a supply point during his voyages. These days, the island is uninhabited, mostly because of its active volcano, but hikers and botanists and zoologists have been visiting it in droves since a nature trail was established on the island: a wild and undulating segmented path that extends for one hundred miles around the island.
Other than that, the island doesn’t attract tourists because the air there is sulphurous – it smells like rotten eggs – and because unlike most other Caribbean islands, there are no white sand beaches along Luminaire’s fringes because the sand is volcanic and coarse and black.
The only settlements are long abandoned villages and ruined eighteenth Century French settlements. The old fort and its ramparts, that once vigilantly guarded the sweeping bay, is said to be overtaken by rampant vines and sleeping sloths and wild monkeys.
The interior consists of dense and in places almost impenetrable rainforests.
In the centre of the island there is a steep misty mountain peak and below that there are sharply sloping hills, wild river rapids, dramatic waterfalls, and impassable mangrove swamps.
I thought it sounded amazing. I’d asked Tom, at which point along the trail he thought we might find our butterflies. He told me that his friend, who had actually been on Luminaire looking for iguanas not butterflies, had seen what he thought to be the Green Morpho in the third segment of the trail. Tom said it would take us almost a full day of hiking to reach that segment from the airstrip. Of course, we’d also have to allow the same amount of time to return.
I downloaded a map of the island and a hiking guide to the trail segments on my phone.
I saw that the trail in section three led through an elevated area of rainforest terrain and then up to a plateau with sulphur springs and hot spas and a volcanic basin known as ‘the boiling pool’. After that, the trail consisted of rocky areas of cliff face with caves and pools and waterfalls and then an undulating segment of lush mountainous and with fast flowing rivers and ridges that promised incredible views of the sulphurous lake. I was excited but had to admit to being also a little intimidated by the scale of the challenge that lay ahead.
Ultimately, I was so glad that Tom had offered to accompany me.
Our taxis synchronously arrived at the supply depot on the main highway at 7a.m. The sun had only just risen but it was already incredibly hot. It was also incredibly humid. As I expected the day to get even hotter and sweatier, I was suitably dressed in a cotton vest and shorts and on my feet, I wore my newly acquired colourful rubber flip-flops. In stark contrast, Tom was dressed in sturdy lace up boots and grey and black combat trousers and a long-sleeved grey t-shirt. I suddenly realised I must have made a big wardrobe mistake.
Inside the depot, we bought hiking backpacks. Tom said we needed to cover up as much as possible to protect ourselves from mosquitoes, leeches and ticks in the jungle conditions, so I had to buy some sturdy boots, socks, long trousers and a long-sleeved top, together with a set of waterproofs – as apparently it wasn’t just a rain forest in name only – as well as things like tents, sleeping bags, water filters and other camping gear for our overnight stay.
Then we headed into the supermarket next door and bought our food supplies.
‘We need to buy easy to carry essentials and quick to prepare hi-energy foods.’ Tom told me. I agreed. I was already overwhelmed by the sheer amount of stuff we’d have to carry.
I got out my credit card and really hoped this mad cap venture wasn’t going to be in vain.
Tom also had a duffle bag with him full of scientific stuff like collecting boxes for caterpillars and butterfly nets and all sorts of other paraphernalia that he said we might need.
I popped a bottle of wine and some chocolate biscuits into our trolley.
Tom made a tutting sound and shook his finger at me in disapproval.
Reluctantly I put them back, deciding this trip was going to be more challenging than I thought, and we headed off to the airport with our fully laden backpacks and me in a little sulk.
At departures, I went to check us in for our flight.
We were invited to wait in the private charters lounge and told our pilot was on his way.
It was then, to my alarm, that I spotted a large warning notice about travel to Luminaire.
It said that all travel and transportation to the island at this time had been suspended.
When I pointed this out to Tom, he looked troubled and immediately made a call on his mobile phone to someone he knew who happened to be an official in San Juan, on Puerto Rico.
He had an animated conversation in Spanish. I waited anxiously and then once the call was over, he took me aside to tell me that they’d cautioned against all travel to the island at this time, because parts of the trail had been closed due to damage caused by the last hurricane.
‘Some of the trail is still impassable. Bridges are down and there have been landslides.’
I was gutted with disappointment. Suddenly, just like that, and all my plans were in shreds.
What was I to do? If we couldn’t go to the island, then we wouldn’t find our butterfly.
It was the one and only lead and sighting that we knew about.
Without the butterfly,
I wouldn’t be able to file a protection order for Waterfall Cay.
Was this the challenge the tarot cards had warned me about?
If so, then how could we possibly get around it? When it now seemed impossible.
‘However,’ Tom continued to say. ‘I told them who I was and that I needed to go there today with my assistant for important research and they were suddenly open to negotiations.’
He gave me a broad smile and looked rather pleased with himself.
‘Really. Are you famous or something?’
He shrugged. ‘Sure. I’m the famous butterfly guy from Puerto Rico!’
I laughed. ‘Ah, yes, of course. So how did you negotiate?’
‘I explained how we only needed access to Segment Three from the airstrip.’
‘And that’s not affected by landslides and broken bridges?’
‘No. It’s okay. So, they gave us permission to go.’
I sighed with relief. Without Tom’s influence we certainly wouldn’t have got permission.
He was certainly proving to be my King of Wands.
‘That’s good. Because I’d promised my boys I wouldn’t go anywhere inherently dangerous.’
‘Your boys?’ Tom queried. ‘You have kids?’
‘Yes, Josh and Lucas. But they aren’t kids anymore. They are grown men.’
Tom studied me for a moment. ‘So, Lori. Are you married?’
I looked at him and blushed, wondering if this might be a loaded question.
If so, then it is best answered now. Lines had to be drawn and our situation made clear.
‘No. I’m not married. But Tom, I want you to know that I do have a steady boyfriend. Only, I think it’s best mentioned now, so that we can focus on finding butterflies.’ I told him firmly.
He gave me the biggest of smiles and looked relieved. ‘Me too!’
I laughed in a spluttery kind of way, ‘You have a boyfriend? You’re gay?’
He laughed loudly and enthusiastically at my wide-eyed surprise.
‘Yes, and yes. Only, I thought it best to mention it, so we can focus on finding butterflies.’
I blushed from head to toe. Had he been worried about me making a move on him?
Oh, how excruciatingly embarrassing. Maybe he thinks I’m some kind of cougar?
All passengers for Luminaire, go to Gate One.
Your aircraft is ready for boardin’. All aboard for Luminaire.’
We went through the gate and onto the hot tarmac and then I saw the plane I’d chartered.
And I realised at once exactly why I’d been able to secure it for such a reasonable price.
It was a single engine, four-seater, Cessna. It was an old one too with more than a couple of patches of duct tape holding things together. Despite this I couldn’t stop myself from grinning.
Tom looked to be rather less enamoured. ‘This is our plane?!’ he gasped.
I nodded enthusiastically. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve flown in a Cessna before and it was fine!’
I was referring to the time I’d flown across Borneo to Sandakan with Ethan, to the base for our visit to the Orangutan orphanage that Ethan’s foundation, the Goldman Global Foundation supports.
It had been one of the most special and most wonderful days of my life.
‘Of course, I’d been terrified at first.’ I admitted. ‘When I first saw the plane, I thought it looked too small to take two passengers and all their luggage and far too beaten up not to crash!’
Right now, I see Tom is having all those same thoughts.
I’m pleased to see that our friendly pilot, who introduces himself as Captain Edward, really does look the part. He’s dressed in smart dark trousers and a white short sleeved shirt with epaulets and he has a pilot’s cap on his head. It does evoke a certain professional confidence.
The last Cessna pilot I’d met had worn tatty shorts and hadn’t even bothered with shoes.
Captain Edward greets us with handshakes before suggesting that Tom might like to take the co-pilot seat next to him ‘because he looks strong and capable’.
I find this a little offensive. I mean, don’t I look strong and capable, too?
I can see Tom is now suffering from the intense heat. He’s sweating rather badly.
Walking outside from the airconditioned lounge had been like hitting a wall of heat.
I see perspiration rolling down his face from his forehead and his shirt and underarms are now soaked with dark damp patches of sweat. But I’m feeling a bit miffed, because I’d wanted to sit in the front, in the co-pilots seat. I climbed into the cramped space in the back of the plane and prised myself into the small seat. Captain Edward passed me our backpacks. I put them onto the seat next to me and arranged Tom’s butterfly nets so that they didn’t keep whacking me on the head. Then I secured everything with the seat belt.
‘At least we do have seatbelts.’ I yelled to Tom. ‘During my last Cessna experience, my seatbelt fell apart during take-off. Of course, I can laugh about it now!’ And I did.
But Tom was still outside the plane looking terror stricken.
Captain Edwards was talking to him, but Tom was vigorously shaking his head.
Then I realised that something was going on here and it wasn’t good.
Oh, my goodness; he was refusing to get into the plane.
Straight away I realised, if Tom didn’t come, I wouldn’t be able to do this on my own.
For a start, I didn’t have the necessary permit. I’d also be on an island totally on my own while there was a travel ban in place. I wouldn’t have a clue what to look for or where I should look. I don’t know anything about the plants that the Green Morpho caterpillars likes to eat.
Without Tom’s help, how would I go about collecting them without killing them all?
I squeezed my way back out of the small space in the rear of the plane to speak with Tom.
I could see that he was trembling like a leaf. He was as white as a sheet and his breathing was fast and heavy. I suddenly realised what was happening. Tom was having a panic attack.
Oh my gosh—he was afraid of flying.
‘I’m sorry, Lori. I can’t go in that plane. I was going to tell you this morning, I’m afraid of flying, but then I thought I just might be okay if it turned out to be a big plane. But I can’t possibly go in that small one. I just can’t. I’m sorry.’
‘Listen here, son,’ said Captain Edward. ‘This is a very safe plane and I’m a very safe pilot. I’ve been flying aircraft for thirty-five years and I’ve only ever crashed once!’
He folded his arms across his chest as if he was terribly offended by all the fuss.
‘You’ve crashed once?’ I repeated.
‘Yes. But the plane is fixed and I’m still alive, aren’t I?’
‘Come on, Tom. Let’s go inside and out of this heat and we’ll get some water to drink.’
So we went inside and I bought water and we sat down and I held Tom’s trembling hand.
‘Tom, remember yesterday morning, when I had my panic attack?’
He nodded and sipped his water.
‘Well, it was you who gave me the confidence to face my fear, so I know you’ve got this.’
After a minute or two, he stood up. ‘Yes. You’re right, Lori. I will do it. I can do it.’
‘Now for your safety briefing.’ Captain Edward said to us once we were all safely strapped in. I nodded at Tom and thought this was most reassuring. This at least showed Tom that our captain was genuinely concerned for our wellbeing. The last time I’d flown in a Cessna, the pilot hadn’t bothered with a safety talk at all. Except, I do think that Captain Edward’s cockpit manner could do with a less serious tone. For both our sakes, I wish he wouldn’t glare at us so intensely and use the words, crash, emergency, and survival, quite so much.
‘If we should crash into the sea, then our chances of survival very much depend on you both acting very quickly and following my instructions to the letter. In such an emergency, I wil
l shout out specific clear instructions to you. You will obey me immediately and without question. Do you both understand?’ His delivery was quite terrifying.
His description of an emergency made it sound like crashing was a foregone conclusion.
Tom once again looked as pale as though all the blood had been drained from his face.
But we both nodded our heads and shouted: ‘YES CAPTAIN.’
Captain Edwards then went on to tell Tom how, in an emergency situation, he should go about removing his seat cushion and collapsing his seat to allow access to the window exit. And then how exactly he should pull on a lever that would release his side window so that we could all climb out of it to escape into the life raft. When in real life, of course, there was no way in Hell that either of us would ever fit through that tiny window or I’d be able to climb over either of these two big men, especially if they were both rendered unconscious in this hypothetical crash. I’d be trapped in a sinking plane.
We both did a bit of deep breathing while the tiny plane taxied down the runway.
I felt terribly guilty for giving Tom a false sense of security.
We were going to die after all; and it was all my fault.
The front propeller was now whizzing around so fast that it had become invisible.
I couldn’t help but to wonder if it was still there or had it already fallen off?
Then, with the engine screaming at fever pitch, we soared into the air.
I looked down from my side window and saw only deep dark blue mesmerizing water.
I distracted myself by trying to pick out the shapes of large sharks, whales, or pods of dolphins. After a while, with the constant drone of the engine providing some comfort, I began to relax. But could see that Tom had yet to stop gritting his chiselled jaw and grinding his perfect teeth. Just as I was starting to get cramp in my legs and my eyes were aching from seeing nothing but blue water beneath us and blue sky all around us, we flew over Puerto Rico and Tom put aside his sick bag, to point out all the landmarks below that he knew so well.
‘Look there’s my village. That’s my old school and you can see the football field!’ he yelled over the noise of the engine. Thank goodness, he was okay and had started to relax at last.
The Next Adventure Page 16
