The leaves are beginning to turn red and gold. The summer temperatures are giving way to the early morning frosts of fall. It is time to start planning for our annual winter vacation in the warm sun of the Caribbean.
Our guide dogs need relief from the cold temperatures, ice, snow and salt on the sidewalks. Just like we installed air conditioning a year ago to provide the guide dogs with a comfortable home during the unbearably high humidity of an Ottawa summer, we also travel south annually to relieve their winter stress.
Where would the guide dogs like to go this year? Well this question is really, “Who will welcome us with the guide dogs?” Many countries such as Jamaica and Barbados do not exempt guide dogs from their quarantine regulations and so we are not welcome there.
So, we selected St. Martens as there was a direct flight from Ottawa for the first time this year. Off went letters to the tourist board for information about entry requirements. Our request to the St Martens government for a letter of introduction for our guide dogs on official letterhead resulted in the requested document being sent by return mail. Even though this country had no laws guaranteeing access for guide dogs, we now had an official letter which would gain us admittance to most places we wished to visit with our service animals. We also received a list of restaurants, taxi companies and excursion operators which would welcome us with our guide dogs.
Inquiries to the head office of the charter airline operating the flight were warmly received. We were assured our guide dogs would be well looked after on the flight and we would be assigned seats with room for them on the aircraft. Our travel agent started the reservation process with the tour operator. Lo and behold within a week we had a confirmed reservation for the first two weeks of March, payed our deposit and obtained our travel insurance.
The reservation process had never gone so well. We had never before been so eagerly accepted with so little fan fair and so few explanations. The arrangements went so smoothly we stopped worrying about the potential travel pitfalls we had come to expect as an unavoidable part of any vacation trip. We were lulled into a false sense of security. This was going to be the most relaxing and hassle free trip of the many vacations we have taken over the years. We turned our attention to other family priorities.
Several days before Christmas, the bubble burst. Our travel agent called to say that The Mullet Bay Resort and Casino had refused our reservation. This decision was received two months after we had paid our money and received confirmation of our booking. It seemed that this five star property had a “No Dogs Allowed” policy and they intended to include seeing-eye dogs in this prohibition. Well what a fine pickle! We had never before been refused after we had paid our money. This looked like it was becoming another Christmas tragedy. No room at the inn for God’s four-legged creatures.
But the star of Bethlehem must have been shining over us. We were pleasantly surprised by the response of the tour operator. They did not wash their hands of us. We were soon offered an alternative. It seemed a better suited facility for our needs and it was cheaper.
The reservations supervisor and the director of marketing for the tour operator participated in a four-way conference call with us to answer our questions and reassure us. Their professional approach and support soon restored our confidence and good humour, and our vacation plans were back on track. As our anticipation grew, the passage of time seemed to slow down, but finally the long awaited day arrived.
Clutching our boarding cards, we entered the aircraft. Where was the room promised for our service animals? The assigned seats at the bulkhead had about 12 inches of floor space between the bulkhead and the luggage restraining bar beneath the seat. The laws of physics that state two solid objects cannot occupy the same space were well illustrated. There was not even room enough for one guide dog at this seat.
After a prolonged discussion, it was suggested by a crew member that we take the last two aisle seats in the back of the plane and leave our guide dogs in the aisle for take off and landing. After take off, we would be moved to an emergency exit row seat for the flight so that the aisle could be clear for cabin service and passengers travelling to the two rear washrooms.
We were reluctant to accept this arrangement, since we were under the impression that disabled persons were never to sit in emergency exit row seats. But crew members were adamant so we trooped to the back of the aircraft.
Soon all 187 passengers were seated and the plane rolled down the runway and began its ascent. The service animals in the aisle did not have any grip and started to slide away. As the aircraft climbed away from Ottawa, we found ourselves suspended out over the aisle hanging onto our dogs for dear life to keep them with us.
After we reached cruising altitude, we were moved to two emergency exit row seats for the five hour flight. There was so much room for the dogs on the floor that there was plenty of room for our feet as well. The food was good and the service friendly. The hours passed and it was soon time to play musical chairs again–aircraft style– with other passengers as we approached our holiday destination.
As we approached the airport, we hung on to the animals for dear life with visions of them sliding down the aisle and crashing onto the flight deck as we landed — an emergency touchdown no one was anxious to see.
As the hotel was close to the airport and the entry formalities were brief, we were soon relaxing by the pool in the warm Caribbean sun. The dogs had found shade and warm strains of steel band music floated on the breeze. Happy hour started at 5 o’clock at Felix’s pool bar. Drinks were half price. Each night, a good-natured crowd of expatriate local residents and tourists gathered to watch the sun go down. Even Frenchy, the well groomed black Labrador could be seen slinking down the stairs to take his customary place under the bar. That dog’s tab was always paid in full. The sunset colours were bright and soon put a rosy tint on the trials of getting here.
We had a gorgeous apartment overlooking the ocean. It was new, clean, spacious and superbly equipped. There were even scissors, a corkscrew and a can opener in the kitchen ready for our use.
During our entire two week visit, the microwave never worked but we learned from the engineer that neither did any of the other 50 brand new microwave ovens in the building.
There was an amazingly efficient gas stove. When we turned it on, there was a clicking sound and then a ‘whishh’ as the burner was lit. We have always feared gas stoves but this one had lots of audible clues about what was happening and we soon became comfortable with its use.
Each morning for the next fourteen days, we had a leisurely breakfast on the spacious balcony. It took several hours as we sipped our coffee and watched the day brighten into the ever present blue sky, pure white little clouds and strong sun. Each day we would listen to the morning radio program from a different country, including Dominica, Anguilla, St Kitts, Guadeloupe, Montsorat, Antigua, the U.S. and British Virgin Islands.
The radio broadcasts taught us much about the daily activities in these countries. It was a glimpse into another lifestyle. Perhaps the most startling and disquieting news came over the radio stations of Saint Martens itself. A local government leader was whisked away to Curacao and accused of corruption. He was ordered released by a judge after five days. It seems he was arrested improperly and not held legally. On Friday evening, we listened to a live radio broadcast from the Princess Juliana Airport covering his triumphant return which included a noisy motorcade to the capital.
For the next week, the radio stations featured many items relating to political controversy between the citizens and the colonial government in the Netherlands. Instead of long spoken editorials, there were many songs with a Caribbean beat and a strong political message which included the frequently posed question, “When will the Hollanders respect us?”
On the last evening of our stay before going to bed, we listened to the election coverage on Radio Anguilla as the actual vote count was broadcast ballot by ballot. In between time, we spent day after day at the beach of the Pelican Beach Resort, under the shade of a thatched parasol. It was a beautiful rest, filled with frequent swims in the cool sea, pleasant chats with other visitors who came to admire the dogs and lots of time to listen to talking books on the beach. However, our transportation woes were far from over.
We soon found that local taxis would not take the service animals. The list of drivers provided by the tourist board was inaccurate and useless. It was difficult to travel about the island and so we just relaxed at the beach. After all, this was a holiday, not a civil rights march for us. We adapted to this unfortunate situation and made the best of it.
A nurse from Sarnia became aware of our need to travel to the grocery store for supplies. She volunteered to take us in the rental car she had received free for five days as a reward for sitting through a 90 minute time-share sales presentation.
She and our daughter Chantal soon had two weeks supply of food for light meals and we were on our way back to the Atrium, our home away from home for our stay. We were nearly back at the Atrium when we encountered a huge traffic jam.
The opening of the bridge to let the yachts through into the lagoon had brought things to a standstill. After a few minutes of watching other cars drive down the lane for oncoming traffic the few hundred yards to our turn off, she followed suit. No sooner had we started when we met a lone oncoming car whose driver did not bat an eye. He simply drove off the road into a field and around us as we all went on our merry way.
The traffic was chaotic. We learned from the radio that a crash training program was underway for officers to enforce traffic laws. The roads were full of huge potholes and loose rocks. Sidewalks were non-existent. Walking was a dangerous business, especially at night. While we ate out most evenings, we only went to restaurants that we could reach by avoiding the most dangerous traffic situations.
Our entrance elicited the statement ” no dogs allowed”. We presented a photocopy of the letter of introduction. After some discussion, we were seated and had an enjoyable meal. By the end of the repass, the staff were remarking in amazement about the well-trained guide dogs. We left with calls to come again ringing in our ears.
Strange as it may seem, the major hassle about gaining entrance with our service animals happened, not at a local restaurant but at a franchise of an American corporation. Our entrance to Pizza Hut elicited frantic waving and attempts to kick our dogs. After we finally got the pizza parlour people calmed down, we were accepted, but there was to be a charge for having service animals in the restaurant. Enough was enough and we left without ordering supper.
A highlight of our visit was a day long sailing trip to Prickley Pear island. This was a deserted Anguillan island where we swam and enjoyed the beauty of nature. Sailing on the El Tigre was a unique experience. Our competent Scottish skipper took everything in stride–two blind people, two guide dogs and another passenger who was a paraplegic. The day passed all to quickly, talking with fellow voyagers and learning about the sport of sailing. Our Captain had won a trophy the previous weekend competing in the Heiniken Regatta.
The dogs enjoyed lying on the deck and watching the world sail by. Surprisingly, after the trip was over, one of the dogs had a bit of an upset stomach from returning to land after the rocking of the boat. We made a note to ask our vet about Gravol for dogs.
The dogs were remarkably healthy for the two weeks. Twice we gave them a tablet to combat the effects of drinking salt water when they swam in the sea. Everyday we cleaned their ears and combed out their fur. Every two or three days, we applied flea powder. We were quite concerned because there were so many stray dogs on the island and when we returned home, we took extra measures to protect them from heartworm disease.
Perhaps it was the large dog population on the island that was the cause of our unexpected accessibility problems with the service animals. When it came time to leave, we all piled into the bus provided by the tour operator to take us to the airport. The driver then refused to drive the bus because we had two guide dogs on the bus. We all sat on the bus for 15 minutes while the driver stood outside talking to himself.
Finally, a Sunquest representative showed up and eventually sorted the matter out. Our fellow tourists were very supportive and one even made a point of retrieving the copy of the letter we gave to the driver.
We were glad he did. When we arrived at passport control, the official refused to let us pass. She ordered us back to the check-in counter to have the guide dogs crated and shipped with the luggage. She persisted in declaring that we had an attitude problem because we expected our mobility aids to travel with us.
Finally, reason prevailed and we were allowed to pass. As we eagerly boarded the aircraft for the journey home, we couldn’t help but wonder why the islands with the slogan “The Friendly Islands” were not more friendly to visitors who are blind and use guide dogs as mobility aids?