umors of a
true sandy beach hearken us to check out Dolly Beach, a 
beautiful but sweaty 45 minute walk from the carpark. 
The baby red crabs have had their time at sea, and waves are returning to the island to begin their new chapter on land. We come across a swarm along the trail, including one being carried away by a yellow crazy
ant.
There's a good deal of fresh water around here, too, and we come across some water-loving blue crabs, as well as the usual red crabs and 
big robber crabs. As we get closer we get a panoramic view of the coast, and walk through a grove of
coconut palms before arriving on the white sand
. We spend the afternoon lounging and swimming, and 
Arthur shimmies up a coconut tree and cuts down a treat. The robber crabs (also called coconut crabs, named 
after their favorite food) wander in about 4 minutes later, and enjoy the fruit(s) of our labor...
After a frustrating day of data analysis, decide it's time to spend some quality with the corn plants. It's dark out, so I grab the headlamp and look at the silks on the ends of the ears: they appear dark and "dried out," which is a sign the ear might be ripe for the pickin'. So we feel the ends of ears, and they feel blunt, not pointy: another good sign. Finally we peel back the husk and pierce the kernels: the juice is creamy, not clear. 
Alright, alright, it's officially harvest time. We select three of the best candidates, and I can't help but express my sheer joy at the now very real prospect of fresh sweet corn.
We throw it in boiling water for 6 minutes, wait until it's not molten hot (I was never good at waiting for corn to cool off) and slather it with butter and salt. The first bite is crispy and oh-so sweet. I'm a fairly slow eater; this is the first time I clear my plate (er, my cobs) before Arthur does. I've certainly had my fair share of corn on the cob before, and this ranks up there with the very best. So happy!
Arthur and I, in a tribute to the melding of cultures, celebrate the corn harvest with vodka shots.
Arthur comes running into the kitchen "Come quick, there's something big in the garden!" I rush outside and see what all the excitement is about. Oh my goodness, the cucumbers have somehow grown to epic proportions (okay, may not epic, but large!) right under our noses without our noticing. Those large cuke leaves really do hide fruit maturation well. I am still amazed that such a small seed can produce such a large (and delicious) plant. Can't wait to make a fresh cucumber salad...
