The situation at the Bridgetown, Barbados airport was worsening by the minute. There had already been a few canceled flights that day. The waiting room by the gate was chock full of irritated, ticket-holding passengers. Everyone inside that overcrowded space was tiring of the lone television's news cycle, focused only on the upcoming U.S. Presidential election.

When we finally boarded our plane, the 50-passenger Bombardier Dash 8 turboprop invoked memories of a scene from an Indiana Jones film. I was fully prepared to witness a wild chicken scurry down the aisle. Somehow we got off the ground, but landing on Canouan would be a completely different miracle. A storm was currently kicking the small island's butt, and so we were circling for the time being, hoping to catch a small window of opportunity to put our twin-engine airplane on the ground.

Ten minutes later, we were taxiing down the runway after the captain stuck an abrupt but solid landing. A wave of relief poured over me and my new bride, Danielle, as we realized we would not need to don parachutes or strap ourselves to a blow-up water raft, like Indiana Jones, in order to land safely back on terra firma.

Customs and immigration was quick and easy, since we were two of three people to disembark from the plane on Canouan. The room looked like an empty Tommy Bahama retail outlet, except the walls were made of real bamboo. After getting our passports stamped, complete with a heartfelt "Enjoy your honeymoon" wish from the agent, we knew the worst was over. And so began our Canouan adventure.