Narrative Essay On Sanibel Island

While growing up, I was always told that once you have hit rock bottom, you have nowhere else to go but up. That advice always seemed to come from relatives that had just had a life changing events happen and were just trying to be optimistic. I never realized how true it was until I became homeless in Hawaii.

With all preparations made for our big water crossing, provisions laid in, fresh water on board, poop tanks emptied, cooler packed with ice and beer, fuel tanks filled up, we left Sanibel knowing it would be many days before we saw civilization again. After a night on the anchor at Marco Island, we’d be crossing the Gulf of Mexico, heading do South, Destination - The Keys!

In the tip of Texas, I was raised in a small city called Port Isabel. The community was very placid. You rarely heard the police siren go off in the neighborhood, or anyone committing a crime. Port Isabel always host fun activities for the community. La Pachanga, Tree Lighting, Feast of Sharing, High School Band Concerts, Marathons Relays, and Parades are the fun events that the community gives to the cordial people in Port Isabel. The city was near a beautiful Paradise island. When temperatures would rise above 90 degrees, everyone will pack their swimsuits, and hit the beach because of the intense heat. Even the sun will wear sunglasses.

There is no other place I feel more at ease than at Kiawah Island. I have been going to this summer getaway every since I was a baby, and my love for this little island off the coast of South Carolina will never fade. When we roll up the driveway of 90 Jackstay Court, I feel a surge of elation, as I know I will be spending the next week with my family, cousins, and grandparents. I run my hands across the granite countertops where I can already smell the intoxicating aromas of a home cooked meal. First thing in the morning, my cousin and I grab our sand battered bikes, and start pedalling on the boardwalk to the beach. I’m careful on the narrow wooden platform, with the painful reminder of when I fell off into the brush. We hop off our bikes

Ocean water mist kissed my face gently as I walked along the shore of Isle de Padre in Seal Beach, California. Soft and grainy sand slipped between my toes, which was an odd sensation, but not unpleasant. The sun wasn’t shining and the wind began to pick up, causing my braids to whip around my face in a frenzied manner. I loved it. In the spring of my thirteenth year, I made I trip I will never forget. This trip made me feel alive, and as long as I live, I will always associate Isle de Padre with life.

There I was sitting in the tender, which has just set off from the Veendam, hoping not to

We finally docked to our first destination, Catalina Island. Stepping on the island was so surreal, the air was so fresh, the island scenery covered in green, and the houses were unbelievably beautiful. A group of decided we wanted to go parasailing so we all chipped in and got tickets to go. Four of us, girls, and other passengers got on this speed boat and sped off far enough to catch good air for the parachute. A couple of people were ahead of us so we got to see what we were going to expect and hear the people's opinion on how it went when it was finally our turn to go up. Gisselle, my roommate, paired up to go together and we were very anxious. We both got geared up and the boat started going to get some wind. We got shot off the boat,

It was a peaceful and normal first hour. Well, at least for the people in it. Everyone was yelling, and the teacher had just given up on trying to stop them, and now was just browsing for a retirement home in Key West. I looked up at Jordan, who was my best and only friend. Her spiked blond hair was never put down, even in the toughest rain. Her tan legs sat on top of her desk, and her pine green eyes scanned the school newspaper.

The Bahamas is a very beautiful, and scary, place. The tourist sites aren't run down, the people there clean it. Something that is like the island is the cruise ship, in the sense that they are both very elegant. The people that lived there had a very laid back lifestyle that anyone would love. If I had a choice, I would live there.

I used to be the type of person that needed my life planned out; I needed a routine or a schedule. I was going on an amazing trip to Catalina Island with my closest friends. We had a plan; take a bus to LA and get on a boat that would take us to Catalina from there. When we arrived to LA the weather was so bad we couldn't get on the boat. We had to wait until the next day. Having to go off schedule we ended up making more memories, we went to a huge aquarium and spent the night on a boat. After that trip I realized things happen and you need to be willing to make the best of things or you will not have the opportunity for new experiences.

For me, Islanders Aquatics has been more like a family than a team. We always have been a very close-knit group, and strong bonds were continuously formed throughout the years. The members of this team became some of my closest friends; not only did they help me become a better swimmer, but a better person. I’m extremely thankful that I was given the opportunity to be a part of this team.

The first time I went to Saint Augustine, transpired in the fifth grade, for a field trip, we rode charter buses there and back, which ensued the first time I had been on a charter bus. My mother, planned to be a chaperone on the field trip, however, she just had my baby sister and could not come, nonetheless making it the first significant field trip that I went to without her. It remained incredibly cold outside when we arrived, nonetheless we all had a pleasurable time. First, we went on a tour through the oldest city in Florida’s downtown area, there we started the tour all the historical buildings and learn the history of them. First, we visited the school, a little one room shack that had held the students that were permitted to attend.

The main character in the story is Jim Hawkins. He is a young boy who looks for adventure. He and a few experienced men search for Ben Gunn, and want to have him enlist in their cause. They steal the Hispanolia (a ship) and return it to the captain to which it rightfully belongs.

In between towering mango trees and dirt roads shaped like snakes lay a town of humble origins named San Marcos. This town in the heart of the Nicaraguan jungle would be my home for the next decade. My father didn’t get in touch with his feminine side, but went through a heart transplant that rendered him an

Easter Island was once a haven for its inhabitants. It provided them with all of their needs, food, shelter, tools, and even the ability to create great works of art. They abused this Eden, and turned it into a disaster, with almost no natural resources. This could very well happen to us, because our earth is the same Eden that Easter Island once was.