The Pachyderm Waltz - The Coconut Chronicles: Two Guys, One Caribbean Dream House - page 153

Lots of people complain bitterly about the heat and humidity of D.C. summers, but Michael
and I love them.
While others are hibernating in their houses with the air conditioning cranked up to Arc-
tic Blast , we're out on our bikes, sweating buckets, frying our endorphins.
The hottest day of the year finds us doing something so counter-intuitive that even we
are forced to question our sanity—rowing on the Potomac, walking from our building in up-
per Northwest to Capitol Hill (some seven miles), or hiking the Billy Goat Trail at Great
Falls.
In short, it doesn't get too hot for us.
So when we discussed the idea of returning to Vieques in July, it seemed completely nor-
mal.
Yes, the timing of our trip to the island the previous July had been dictated, at least in
part, by our need to get the upstairs level of the house finished in time for the rental season.
But once we got there we realized we didn't mind the super-drenching humidity or the
sheer wall of heat that slapped us in the face each morning when we opened the door of the
air-conditioned bedroom and walked into the un-air conditioned space beyond.
In fact, we liked it.
And anyway, we had a deadline again this year. The lower floor had to be decorated and
furnished in time for the coming season so we could advertise the house as a three-bedroom
and, hopefully, pull down some serious cash.
No problem , we thought. Ha ha .
☼ ☼ ☼
Our journey from D.C. to Vieques generally took between eight and nine hours, door-to-
door, depending on our connection in San Juan.
On departure day we would get up at about four o'clock and catch a seven o'clock flight
from Dulles to San Juan that landed around eleven-fifteen. If luck was on our side we would
then sprint across the sprawling, hyper-air-conditioned airport and jump on a twelve-forty-
five flight to Vieques.
But that was a rare occurrence.
More often than not there was a delay in our departure from D.C., meaning that we'd
miss the twelve-forty-five to Vieques and be forced to take the two-thirty flight instead. Even
so we would get to the house by three-thirty or slightly later.
We had made the journey from D.C. to Vieques eight times since buying the house and
had fluctuated between the two scenarios described above.
But that was about to change.
When we arrived at Dulles that still-dark July morning, around five forty-five, the de-
parture board indicated that the flight was on time and scheduled to depart at seven o'clock.