My trip report,

by Barbara Smallwood

Ph. D.

NB, this must be read with a faux Northern British Accent...... - and artistic license has been taken
(editor's note - "faux" is a French word, and thus not rationally part of the North British vocabulary. The trip occurred more than 12 months ago, but the effort was just so boggling ... )

They met in Miami at terminal B
anxious to get to Carrie Bow Cay

Myrna and Marilyn, Mat, Babs and Quinn
were off for a fortnight of sun, sand and corin'

The plane was on time
the baggage was fine
all seventeen pieces and a bottle of wine

They stormed through at customs, corer and all
BUT, then trouble struck - with a car not a truck
John said "I'm sorry" - but, four bags NO MORE

The car then broke down - and a taxi was rented
Mat and Babs stayed a story twas invented

(Not to the airport, that was easy enough,
but to the rest of the team they decided to bluff)

The small plane was loaded with 8 action packers
5 pelican cases and 2 British slack err stackers

A storm was a brewing and waves were a bashing
Mat, Babs and Dan were in for a splashing.

Once reunited the team soon unpacked
with joyous anticipation they laughed and they laughed

Biocomplexity and emergent phenomenUM
were greatly discussed with a bottle of rum

The very next day was packed full of hopes
 concentric circles, vectors and SPOKES

Emergence appeared in front of their eyes
 things that were simple were now complex
 and complex things - well, they were still complex 
 but, not to be daunted with trees in disguise
 they dashed back to Martha who was waiting with pies


Coconut, lime and orange pies too
were soon to be gobbled by the intrepid crew

A few days passed by and peepers were processed
banjos were played and work stopped in protest

Then it arrived the day we'd a waited for
Mat's chance at last to snag a Russian Peat Core

We went down and down - it worked like a dream
Ten meters later, but, no Pleistocene

Nevertheless we came back in triumph
clutching our tubes of historical science
Another idea emerged from our talks
of flying a plane above the islands of our thoughts

We could then see were the trees had a grown,
was it downwind of where the fertilizer was sown?

We got in the plane and had a great flight
a good job we didn't fall to Javier's plight

He was the original owner of the charter you see,
until his engine fell off over the deep, blue Caribbean Sea.

The view was amazing as Twin Cays passed by,
Babs lost her glasses - they flew into the sky.

Pictures were taken, giggles abounded
thank god, they said, when they finally grounded

Kayaking, surfing, fish traps and fun
were all enjoyed with the rest of the rum.

The final assault of the trip was recorded when,
Mat, Quinn and Marilyn (Myrna escorted them),
turned into frightening herders of fish,
with blood curdling screams and a swish of their sticks
drove the poor animals into a trap
a barracuda escaped and nearly bit Mat.
Quinn did her running thing, the net was then closed,
the fish were then poured into a bucket - we froze.

Was that a snapper that made the net shimmer?
NO Marilyn said "there's barely enough for dinner".

BUT, with these bleak words, the team did not fail
Myrna and Marilyn took up the pail
and tried again from the north of the boards,
the fish moved and jumped and were caught in their hoards.
OK maybe not as many as you think
but they did get a snapper, then went back for a drink.

The very last day the team was together
they took up some pens and a large bit of paper,
they wrote and they thought and they drew with INTENT
till some bright spark wrote "LICHENS ARE NOT IMPORTENT"

The statement was tested, we know how it went,
Now we wait in anticipation of the next Mangrovellers event.