Precipitous ascent aside, I’m glad I’m not driving - the vistas from every turn are magnificent enough to distract even the most capable driver. We swerve toward the clouds, ultimately stopping in front of a gingerbread-trimmed charmer with a spectacular view, like many lodgings here. We unpack our dive gear in silence, stealing glimpses at the clouds descending over Mount Scenery until they completely shroud it. Also known as “the road that couldn’t be built,” this steep, zig-zaggy marvel took a determined Saban a correspondence course in engineering and two decades to construct. On other small islands this journey would typically be a fast endeavor, but it seems that few things on Saba are typical. The Road (capitalized because it’s the island’s main thoroughfare) is a perfect example. It’s not long before we’re tucked into a cab and speeding uphill toward the village of Windwardside, our home for the next week. As the turboprop plane abruptly dips, comparisons end, and my attention focuses on our landing - specifically, identifying the tiny airstrip. The pilot has determinedly aimed the plane, presumably toward the airport, and we’re white-knuckling it down to the shortest commercial runway in the world.Ī great barracuda hovers in a cleaning stationĪt the dive site called “Tent Reef Deep” in Saba. I am, as I was all those years before, enthralled. The stark shoreline features a near-complete absence of beaches, while clouds top the island’s highest point, a volcanic peak fittingly named Mount Scenery. The minuscule island of Saba - or its silhouette, at least - is rumored to be the muse for Skull Island. As the 5-square-mile speck comes into view, I completely understand the inspiration. The toothy, giant gorilla aspect of the film was less enthralling I was a little kid, after all. But that towering island, that mist, that jungle! Even with my grainy view, those features seemed worth a difficult trek.ĭecades later I feel like I’m finally getting my chance to experience them. The shores of a mysterious atoll, craggy rocks that rose straight up from the sea and disappeared into a wall of mist, were understood to be the gateway to untold marvels. I SUSPECT THAT MY LOVE FOR SABAwas set in motion the first time my father threaded King Kong onto our home projector. It was the original black-and-white film from 1933 - and if you’ve never viewed it, you should. I watched, enthralled, from my comfy beanbag chair as a ship carrying a film crew motored through the fog in search of Skull Island.
0 kommentar(er)
