90-degree heat with 90% humidity, is where we started on this summer night. It was an eco-adventure that was meant to satisfy the curiosity of this biologist. The excursion was a nighttime kayak ride through a mile long mangrove channel. Eventually we would reach the open waters of Laguna Grande, and its bioluminescent bay, situated in the Northeast corner of Puerto Rico.

Puerto Rico for the first time

My daughter and son-in-law (Puerto Rican born) purchased the experience as we vacationed with them in July on the beautiful island. The small orange wristband we all received at the end of the trip reads, “A night to remember.” The statement was valid, but the memories created were a unique mix of survival skills versus sketch comedy.

It was a rush from the airport to our resort and then to the eco-excursion. The roads were narrow and winding with elevation changes, the only savior was the cool air from the cars AC. My wife has a tendency to get car sick, on this night, she made every attempt to fight through the condition.

We made the short walk from the welcome center to the awaiting cluster of kayaks. Sweat immediately started to pour down my forehead and into my eyes. I planned accordingly and had a sweat rag. Constantly swiping my forehead, matched with flush red skin and panting breaths, made others wonder if I had malaria. Just like Frosty the Snowman, I realized I had ventured too far south. Directions were verbalized and the wife and I climbed into our double kayak.

Follow the Red light

Each kayak had a red light on its back and we were instructed to stay in single file and to follow the red light in front of us. As we pulled away from the launching point and into the mangrove channel, the red light was literally the only thing I could see. As we burrowed farther into the black abyss, it became obvious that some customers were lacking in their kayak navigational skills. Some red lights veered right, some veered left, and most other lights were too faint to see.

Panic is a state of mind

My heart raced as I made quick decisions on which light to follow. With literally no other perspective to guide us, I followed the first light in front of us to the right. We immediately became stuck in mangrove branches and shallow water. We pushed away with our oars and looked for another red light to guide us.

No turning back

Quickly it became apparent that there was no turning back, no escape route, no bypass point. From the front of the kayak, I began to hear my wife moan softly. I on the other hand was completely engrossed with following red lights, wiping the sweat from my eyes so I gave it minimal thought. The moaning increased in frequency and in volume, and then I heard a noise that was unquestionable. She lost her battle with car sickness and offered her last meal to the mangrove gods.

Women are warriors

I have said for years that my wife is much tougher than I am. She proved this again as she reengaged paddling and helped us catch up to the red lights ahead. When we reached the bioluminescent bay the nighttime sky and the moon shined across the waters. It was a beautiful site and we clustered the kayaks several hundred feet out into the bay.

The leaders of the eco-company began to pass out a huge tarp that we would pull over our head to block out the moon light. This was practical, but to a man that was perspiring buckets of sweat, a heat trapping tarp was my last wish. We were instructed to splash the water to engage the microorganisms that would give off light. It was an amazing site but my heat discomfort was winning and I pulled the tarp off my head.

I am going to kill em

Concluding their educational discussion, the guides led us back into the mangrove darkened channel. As we got back into single file alignment, one of the guides continued to cut in front of our kayak. I don’t know his rationale, but he did it several times and each time it disrupted our paddling rhythm. He yelled in Spanish to other guides words that I did not understand. I chirped multiple times to my wife, “I am going to kill him.” My wife was still struggling and was too weak to paddle. I dug the oars deeper into the water and worked feverishly to keep up with the group. This engaged another level of sweat. Like a waterfall spouting from my head, water poured down my face. As if I had just surfaced from the deep end of the pool, I was forced to spit and gasp for air.

We can all laugh now

Yes, we did eventually return safely to the welcoming center. Yes, it was a night to remember just like the wrist band says. Yes, I would recommend to future adventurists: 1. Pick a cooler time of the year. 2. Take your motion sickness medications. 3. Lose 50 pounds before your excursion. 4. Never decline a chance to have “a night to remember” with your adult children.