Cayo Costa Island Camping

Awaiting dinner at the luxurious Sea Lavender Cabin on Cayo Costa

A dozen GO members attended

Those members who were brave enough to be confined to an isolated island in the Gulf of Mexico for a weekend, with admitted sexual deviants left wanting to go back again for a longer time.  It all started at Dave’s house in Charlotte County.  Dave actually invited everyone on the trip to stay at his house the night before--sort of a past-your-prime slumber party. 

On Saturday morning, we convoyed over to Boca Grande to meet our chartered ferry.  Bill told everyone to pack light, so we had only about 3,000 pounds of gear.  The water was a little rough, and the little ferry bobbed up and down in the water like a cork  However, with the grace and dexterity born of years of balancing on bar stools under the roughest of conditions, we managed to load everything on the boat in about five minutes.

Once on the island, we set up camp.  We had arranged for a cabin, to accommodate those who might not want to tent.  In typical beach resort style, each of the cabins was named something beachy...Sea Oat, Anemone, and so forth.  Ours happened to be called “Sea Lavender”. No one wanted to stay in it. 

The campsite was a beautiful large area under Australian Pines, within a few hundred feet of the beach.  We spent the better part of the day on the beach, cooling off in the water and snorkeling for sand dollars. 

As we stood and swam in the water, a sleek, gray dolphin swam in among us.  We thought he was just loping along, being playful, until he spotted some lunch near shore, and took off like a shot.

Since campfires were confined to “campfire circles”, we instead took blankets down to the beach at night and lounged under the stars, exchanging stories, reminiscences, and bug spray.

Sunday saw walks around the island.  John scared the bejesus out of us by hiding behind a bush and making wild pig noises.  (This is what guys do when you take them away from civilization--women members take note!) 

We engaged in a twin-flank pincer movement for scandalizing the island.  One group engaged in bare-bottom sunning at the North end of the island, while the other group applied blue facial masks on the beach to the South.  Everyone passing by the guys with the blue faces gave them wide berth, even the boats!

Just about everyone met for dinner at a restaurant on the mainland. When we left, there was more hugging and kissing and address exchanging than I have ever witnessed on one of our trips.  I can only assume that facial masks help in the bonding process.