THERE are sunset, sunrise, and daylight
cruises. I’ve tried them all at one time or another, but a moonlit
cruise in the Saipan lagoon was something I didn’t plan for. 
I have heard moonlight cruises were being offered by some cruise
companies here by special arrangement through some organizations for
fundraisers, meetings and gatherings in the past, but I hadn’t been on
one yet. That is until last Saturday when a text message from friend
Donna to go sunset sailing pulled me away from my computer. I decided to
go straight to Smiling Cove Marina. I was feeling kind of lazy but
could not allow a chance to go sailing slip through my fingers. It would
be different if you had a sailboat of your own and could go off anytime
you wanted to.
The sky was overcast but the waves were
gentle when we pushed off from the dock and into the lagoon aboard
Matt’s sailboat. With four photographers on board, conversation was not
necessary. An overcast sky is a challenge to photographers, but we all
gloried in it, shooting cloud formations and everybody wishing we all
had giant spades to scoop the clouds away for a view of the dazzling
sunset. We had no such luck but on our way back a couple of hours later,
we got a bonus. The moon made its way up in the sky, casting a luminous
glow on the water.
From afar, we could hear the laughter
and singing from one of the sunset cruise boats full of tourists. From
where we were, we could see billows of smoke rising from the CUC
building in Lower Base, but aside from that, Saipan looked like one
sleepy island with no one else up and about.
We slowly sailed back toward the dock.
Matt got busy rolling up the sails when we entered the Cove. With the
sails neatly rolled in place and the engine still off, the sailboat
glided ever so slowly as we entered the marina. I was lost in thought
and my imagination started to get wild as I gazed at the silhouettes of
trees across from the cement walkway.
There was a momentary silence broken
only by the soft lapping of the gentle waves along the sides of the
boat, or the occasional slapping sound as a mosquito tried to feast on
an exposed arm or leg.
I realized all of us had drifted into a
sleepy state. Everyone was busy gazing at the moon rising above the tree
tops or at the shimmering reflection in the water and fighting a bout
of drowsiness lulled by the slow and lazy swaying of the sailboat.
Everyone, that is, except for Matt who was trying to catch some fish
with a pole but with no luck.
It was already dark when we pulled into
the dock and walked to American Memorial Park where we had left our
cars, refreshed from the moonlight sailing experience. If you have been
here all your life and have not yet tried sailing in the moonlit lagoon,
you are missing a lot!
This was first published at the Marianas Variety
