Yesterday, I gave several boat tours to groups of Girl Scouts. These scouts ranged in age, from Daisy scouts to Cadettes (roughly 5 years old to 14 years old). The sunny, relatively cool weather made for a lovely day on the bayou.
These scouts were fortunate; we saw several gators along the trek. I know, I know. Real. Live. Alligators. Live. In the wild. Chomp. It is a fun game I have to play, the "Stay Calm, Don't Freak Out the Visitors" game. I am not from here. Locals often just shrug off the presence of an alligator. Visitors tend to get very excited. I tend to react more like a visitor when I spot wildlife. "Look! An alligator!" I may have decided to snap a picture with my phone because I couldn't overcome my own giddiness.
One girl asked if I had ever gotten close to an alligator. I told her no, that I wanted to keep my relationship with the alligators professional and didn't feel the need to get close to the reptiles. Only the leaders laughed at that one.
On the way back down Bayou Tortue, we were floating along a particularly peaceful stretch of water. The sun filtered through the overhanging branches. The breeze rippled the murky water. Then I heard it. It startled me at first and then I didn't know what to think of the song. Where was it coming from? Am I dreaming?
"Yo Ho, Yo Ho, a pirate's life for me!"
Is that...? Did I...? Oh, no.
My phone silencer unsilenced itself as I slipped it back into my pocket after snapping the shot of the alligator. Dead men may tell no tales, but darnit if phones do.