St. John Adventure - Day 15 (Departure)

I just can't believe it's all over. I thought perhaps I was ready to go back but I really am not!!! We did manage to have a few last adventures however....

After setting off kind of late we missed the 11am ferry. So, we had lunch at Rhumb Lines in Cruz Bay and got on the ferry at 1pm. Unlike the one we took when we arrived, this boat takes a far longer route and goes all the way into Charlotte Amalie instead of Red Hook on St. Thomas. I would be lying if I said I was not terrified. I really dislike boats, and this one was so tiny! The upside was that we got to sit with Jan, Jenny and Joanne, which calmed me a bit because I had to behave in a socially acceptable manner, rather than whimpering. The sun was out and the ocean was so beautiful and blue, which made up a bit for the terrifying way in which the waves tossed us around (I am sure they weren't even waves, and I am just a big baby).


The ride took just over an hour and we had about an hour to waste, so we took a quick look around Charlotte Amalie. It is a most charming place, with some of the historical buildings still in tact, with those cozy narrow alleys and little shops opening into them like a huge maze.



I sought out some art galleries. One belonged to Jonna White, a local celebrity, who does etchings with dozens of layers. I was expecting it to be spectacular, but honestly, I was a bit disappointed. You can see her work here.

What I really wanted to see was the work of a woman called Aphrodite, but we never did find her gallery. Instead we saw David Hill's shop, where his mom was working as the sales person and went on an on about her son's talents. I did like a lot of Davids work though, especially his paintings and not so much the etchings. It was actually quite inspiring, and made me wish that I was more of an artist than I am. I wonder if my mom would drop what she is doing and come sell my work. Or my Husband for that matter....


Anyway, then it was off to the airport, where they do the strangest thing - after you get your ticket form the e-ticket machine you drag all your luggage (and there are NO carts available) to customs. I've never seen customs on the departing end of the flight, have you? And of course they stopped Husband because he is on their watch list and we had to sit for two hours in the little secure facility until they called the FBI and did a background check. The customs officers on St. Thomas however, were the nicest I have ever met in my entire life! They explained to us exactly what was going on, how to get off the list, gave us updates every 15 minutes and even fed us biscottis! The only strange thing was when I had to go to the bathroom and had to be escorted by a female officer, after I was done she walked into my stall to check things out. I wonder what she thought I was doing...

The end result was that we were the last people on the plane, which was kind of cool and made me think of Bridget Jones. Our seats had been taken by a lesbian couple, one of whom was terrified of flying and they wanted to know if we would mind switching. We said ok, especially since I know very well what it's like to be afraid of something, and so we spent the flight sitting a ways apart. To help out, I chatted with the woman who was afraid, which she said really took her mind off the whole thing. She even showed me pictures of their wedding (they are from Massachusets so they were able to get married, which makes me so very happy). Eventually she passed out from all the Dramamine in her system and I started reading "Memoirs of a Geisha". I have seen the movie, but not read the book, and it is actually really good.

The only other thing of note during the flight was my attempt to purchase a sandwich. I was hungry and they do not serve food (nor do they have sound in the head phones, for some reason), but you can buy a ham and cheese sandwich for $5. The only cash I had on me, however, was $50, and the steward, a 30something fellow, took my $50 and told me he would give me change later. Eventually it transpired that one is able to pay by credit card, so I gave him my card but he would not give me the $50, saying that I did not give him any such money. I guess he was joking or something, because eventually he gave it back, but I was not sure it was funny at all.

We landed at JFK and got our bags by around 11pm. We had decided to stay the night in NYC with some friends, but we could not reach said friends for a while, making us a bit panicky. We were about to try a mad dash to Port Authority to grab the last bus out of town, but just then they called us and said they were on their way. It took longer than expected to find their car, as there are some weird traffic laws in the passenger pick-up zone. So we hung out there in the cold and dark and smoke filled NY winter street, cursing our fate, and wishing we were back on the island. I guess we are home now. Darn...

St. John Adventure - Day 14 (Packing)

Well it poured all night again and everything is soaked. We were concerned that it will rain again tonight, making packing difficult tomorrow, so this morning we took everything apart again, dried it as best we could and packed most of it, including our tent. Tonight we will try to sneak into one of the set up tents and sleep there, which is apparently fairly common practice.

Here is Husband's invention for keeping our stuff dry overnight:


In the evening we made sure to say bye to Priscilla the artist and buy some of her prints. She has taken an special liking to Husband (as do most people) and said that he is a kind soul, always trying to help everyone.

For dinner we had food that was made by Jan, Jenny and Joanne, the Connecticut ladies who are also leaving tomorrow. I am just so tired, I can't even tell you!

St. John Adventure - Day 13 (Little Lemshure Bay)

Today was our last real exploration (sob, sniff). Setting off at ~10am the taxi took us passed Coral Bay, passed Saltpond Bay, to the end of the paved road and then over a partially dirt and partially concerete and extremely steep path to the three bay area (Big Lemshure, Little Lemshure and Europa). As we drove we saw mangroves and many mud crabs, so as soon as Ana dropped us off, Husband and I went back and tried to catch some of them on film (unsuccessful).

On the beach a group of retired Czechoslovakian physicians finally explained to us which tree is the death apple - a plant with sap so poisonous that you can can't even hide under it in the rain. A bite of the fruit will make your throat close shut and you are done for.

Snorkeling was a little lame because the water is very murky, but there were some really huge fish in the water, and there was a rock in the middle of the bay that you could swim to and watch the pelicans that perch on it. On the beach Husband found some artwork, which I thought was wicked.
He spent much more time in the water, but I wanted to go check out Yawzi point, an outcropping between the two Lemshure bays. I cannot tell you how beautiful it was! With water all around, and the cliff and waves, it looked like I was at world's end!

Ana picked us up around 2pm and we went to Skinny Legs for lunch. It was actually really delicious, and I spent quite a bit of time in conversation with Frank who is a forester, and who spoke at such length about his business that I feel like I could not go into forestry myself. He did irritate me at the end though, because when it came time to split the bill he had strong objections over my calculations about how much was each person's share and insisted that I owed him 25 cents. So after we got back to camp we happily went our separate ways. I was feeling really cold for some reason, and especially so after taking a shower, so I got all bundled up in fleecy pants and a sweater. We had dinner with Priscilla - rice with nuts and fruits, falafel and a strange guacamole (avocado with mayonnaise), and then went to look at the stars. I had found a little star chart and we spend quite some time trying to find all the different constellations. The ones I was able to identify for sure were - Orion, Mars, Taurus, Pleiads, Gemini, Cassiopeia, Auriga, Aries and maybe Pegasus.

St. John Adventure - Day 12 (Caneel Bay)

Unlike yesterday, today was a happily eventful day. First I ran around trying to arrange a taxi ride for tomorrow to Little Lemshure. Since James and Christine are now gone I had to find us two new companions. I eventually became so frustrated that I just asked a random elderly couple that I met in the woods, and they said yes! They are called Frank and Lil and come from upstate NY. Anna, the taxi driver, said that she will only be able to take us to Lemshure if it does not rain tonight, because of the off-roading, mud issues, so let's hope for a clear night!

We made plans to meet Priscilla the Neighbor at a restaurant in Cruz Bay at ~6:15pm, and after some confusion about whether or not we should go anywhere at all, and if so where, we set out with the general plan to go to the Caneel Bay area. Going was slow because we forgot to stop by the locker to get some taxi cash (for later tonight), so I had to double back while Husband waited for me by the side of the road. As I was coming out of the campground a car was passing with two women in it, who, even though it must have seemed sketchy, agreed to pick Husband up from "somewhere up the road". It was actually fairly humorous to see Husband's reaction when a car with these two young women pulled up to give him a ride, since he did not know I was inside!

They dropped us off right at Caneel Bay, an intimidating establishment with a guard and a gate. The lawns were immaculately groomed. Fantastic landscaping had been done to convey the feeling of the tropics. A bunch of bananas hung right over the path. Cast iron tables were scattered among some sturdy-looking ruins, with candles lining every crumbling nook. All in all it looked polished, expensive and staged, like a paradise more real then the one beyond its walls.



We could not get a map, but someone pointed us in the direction of the beach. Actually it seems that Caneel Bay sits on at least three beaches, and we swam at the junction between Salomon and Honeymoon. The snorkeling was great, lots of live coral, especially huge stag horns, and very many colorful fish. At one point a platoon came along and dumped a mass of life jacked wearing snorkelers, so it must have been a prime location. The coolest part was that after you took a step into the water there was an immediate drop off, so you would go from ankle to waist deep instantly, making it oh so difficult to get out of the water with all the waves throwing you around.
I was really dizzy after we swam. It seems that it takes me longer and longer each day to get my footing on land after being water-borne. But we still had a ways to go. Around 4pm we began walking towards Cruz Bay on the Lind Point trail, which we hoped would get us there. It was fairly easy and afforded a most beautiful overlook of the harbor.


We came out of the woods at the National Park visitor center, which was closed, and I did a little switcheroo, secret-agent style, in the bathroom, entering as tough hiker chick and exiting as breezy tourist in dress and flip flops. We also saw what appeared to be a baby iguana, which is the only one we've seen so far at all.

After walking around town for a little while and checking out souveneirs, which were REMARKABLY expensive we met Priscilla in Rhumb Lines, a resturant with fantastic ambiance and delicious cuisine. It is an open air place, with thatched roofs and little canopies above tables, palm trees, fairy lights, bamboo placements, bohemian lighting and plush pillows with cast iron chairs. I had Jamaican style stake with horseradish potatoes and stuffed mushrooms, as well as a mango gaspacho. Husband had gingered salmon with palenta and veggies, and a rum and coconut drink.
After dinner we went to what could be called a bar, so that Priscilla could have a strawberry dacquary. While she enjoyed her drink I went into a little gift shop, where the I was just checking out some jewelry when the shop keeper told me to come back when I get my allowance. I still am not sure what that means. Any ideas?

St. John Adventure - Day 11 (Cinnamon Bay and bacalhau)

Today we stayed "home" and cleaned a bit. We took everything out of the tent and dried it all, which took a while. It was overcast and rained on and off, so we ended up running back and forth covering things, moving stuff, etc. Eventually we made our way to the beach right here in Cinnamon Bay and hung out in the occasional sunlight, swam a bit, napped, read and did some sketches of people beached around us. I was mesmerized by this Venus, lounging in the waves, so I tried to snap a photo as inconspicuously as I could.


The book I've been reading, Agatha Christie's "Passenger to Frankfurt" is getting to be more repetitive and nonsensical with every page. The central thesis of the book, which is that a youth movement is being organized around to world to create chaos and anarchy, is endlessly discussed, chewed on and spat out by various proper elderly gentlemen of great power sitting in smoke filled ivy rooms. The complexities of politics and economics are broken down into very simplistic and stylized units and overall one gets the distinct impression that the author does not know what she is talking about, though she says it at great and redundant lengths.

For lunch we had a can of tuna and a can of sardines, which in retrospect was a really bad idea because afterwords I could not even think about fish, but Husband had made plans to make bacalhau. Bacalhau is a Portuguese dish of salted cod (the word actually means codfish). Husband spent all day preparing it, washing, soaking, cooking. Both Priscillas joined us for dinner, so when it came time to eat and I could just feel myself gagging with every bite, I could not exactly say "no". I hope that some day I will try it again and enjoy it. For now I am feeling a little sick...

St. John Adventure - Day 9 (Reef Bay Hike)

A completely amazing day. In fact, we saw so much and had such a good time I can't imagine that I can write it all down. I will try to add more pictures instead.

So today we did the Reef Bay Hike. It starts out at the campground, from where we take the Cinnamon Bay trail, a 1.2 mile hike entirely uphill, and since it was rainy on and off, fairly slippery at the same time. We got going around 11am, with Husband still feeling a little off, so at least I thought I would be able to keep up. He took an entire backpacker pack, while I was carrying only my little rucksack. Here is a view from about two thirds of the way up, looking back over Cinnamon Bay.
The Cinnamon Bay Trail ends on the Centerline Road, which is one of the two roads that run across the island. From here we had to walk about a mile east along the road, taking care to step out of the way of traffic because it was pretty winding (windy?) and only really gets locals, who zoom by very fast. There is also a bus that runs along this road every hour, and costs about $1. All along the road the signs, such as the trail sign and speed limits were covered in bullets. I guess kids here don't know what to do with themselves. That's the bullet holes on the left there. And here is a picture looking down towards the South side of the island where we are headed. From here on it was downhill on the Reef Bay trail.
The trail is very well marked. The National Park takes tours down the trail and then picks up the tourists at the end in a boat and takes them around to Cruz Bay from where they can catch a taxi back. But that is for sissies! We will be hiking down and all the way back up this 3.4 mile trail.
Along the way we met Will, a 30 something dermatology intern from New York City. He was on St. Thomas for a dermatology conference and today was his last day, so he decided to explore. He had already been scuba diving this morning and thought he might do this hike as well. We got to talking because he stopped to take our picture for us, and then we simply hiked the rest of the way together. It was really quite fun having company and he was a really nice guy. We came upon several ruins of sugar mills. Here is a picture of one about half way down the hike.
And here is an image of the trail itself. Pretty easy going, I would say! I just love those sub tropical forests. There is so much life everywhere! We saw mango trees, papaya trees, something called a locust, bay rum trees etc. It was lovely, and the trail tells you about all the different kinds of uses and other useful information.
About two thirds of the way down the trail branches off so you can go check out the petroglyphs. These were most likely left behind by the Taino people, who lived on the island in pre-Columbian times. They are carved into the rocks surrounding a pool of fresh water, fed by a small but beautiful waterfall. The water level in the pool remains constant throughout the year and would have been very important to the natives. Observe how beautifully the petroglyphs reflect in the water. I am especially grateful that we were there right after a passing shower and the entire scene was wet, sparkling and steaming with that mist that you can only get in warmer climates.

And right nearby visitors have left a new generation of glyphs, carved into the waxy leaves of a bush on the edge of the waterfall.
At the end of the Reef Bay trail are the biggest sugar mill ruins I've seen so far (of course I've missed the ones in Annaberg, and they are pretty famous). This mill actually lived two lives, back in colonial times where it was powered by slaves and horses, and then in later years it was revived and a steam engine was put in. Now it is a home to bats, and a nice shelter for when it's pouring out.
This is where they cooked the rum I think.

The bats are everywhere!!
Hiding from the rain. The wooden thing in the back is part of the horse or donkey turning mechanism. The black thing is of a later era.
The steam engine part. It is actually enormous, it is hard to get perspective here.
And here is an odd sign on the bathroom building. What do you think they are trying to tell us?
Finally we also walked to the beach. It was a desolate affair, not a single person in sight. It was overcast and the surf was up, and we got eaten alive by no-see-ums. Needless to say we did not stay on the beach long.
Walking back was a bit more challenging. It was around 4pm at this point, which means that it had taken us 5 hours to get here. I was quite tired, not sure how the boys were feeling. We did not really get a chance to eat, though we were snacking on some nuts. The last mile of the Reef Bay trail, I was just not sure I could make it. I could feel my pulse in the my head, and was sure something was going to explode. Between the rain and the sweat I was drenched, and I was not sure that I could feel my legs. But we had a sneaky plan - we knew that there was a couple that had hiked down just after us and we thought that they looked like they came by car. So we wanted to make it to the top and wait for them, and then see if we could bum a ride back to the next trail head. Unfortunately they were in much better shape then I was and were constantly gaining on us, so I could not even stop to take a breath. By the time I finally got to the end of the trail I was not sure I could take another step. I collapsed quiet pitifully and just sweated in a puddle on the side of the road, which meant that we did not even have to ask for a ride, they offered it to us!
They dropped us off at the Cinnamon Bay trail and took Will the rest of the way into town. From here we had to rush to keep ahead of the falling darkness, and finally made it to camp around 6pm. I was so tired, and we had no fuel once more, so I suggested eating out at the little restaurant they have here, but Husband said that it was more fun to make our food especially now that it was a challenge. It was also pouring rain now. We tried to go to Ken and Eva's, who sadly left this morning to go home, but someone had already moved into that tent. So finally we went to the group camp site across the path and sneakily used one of the stoves that is set out there. By the time we went to bed the rain was so bad that there was a little river running under our tent. The end result was that it felt like sleeping on a water bed, while it gently seeped into our pads. Good times.

St. John Adventure - Day 8

Today Husband was unwell so we just stayed at the camp site. He slept and I read the entirety of a book called "Codex" by Lev Grossman. It is my new favorite genre - bibliothriller, much like Dan Brown's "The Da Vinci Code", Coldwell and Thomason's "The Rule of Four", Elizabeth Kostova's "The Historian"and maybe even Donna Tartt's "The Secret History". In comparison "Codex" was not all that great. While the 'biblio' part of it was fun - there is something so satisfying about holing up in the library and doing research among all that weight and stillness of ancient paper- the characters and surrounding plot were unpleasant and in the end, lame.

St. John Adventure - Day 7 (Maho Bay)

It had rained a bit in the night but the morning was gorgeous and sunny. Since a lot of our clothing is now really a little bit scary, I decided that today was the day to go do some laundry. This way we will not have to worry about clothing for the rest of the trip. I had initially intended to do all laundry by hand, but this is proving difficult because of the entirely unpredictable rain showers, and the lack of clothing lines in the sun shine, which makes the clothing rot more than dry.

First things first though, we cleaned out the tent, took everything out, sorted it, flipped the tent and dried it in the sun. Cheryl and Jeff stopped by to say goodbye - they are on their way home now. I am sad because they were really great and fun companions. But they don't live too far away, so perhaps we shall see them still. And while they were there, a little lizard decided to climb on me. He first jumped on my foot, and tried to keep still so Husband could take a picture, but it was unafraid, climbed all they way up my leg, stomach and on my arm, from where it climbed onto Cheryl and than jumped onto Priscilla, freaking her out. What a hoot!

After the 'house cleaning' was done we packed up our laundry into a duffel bag, which Husband strung over his shoulders like a backpack, and hiked the mile or so along the road to Maho Bay, which is the next bay over to the east. Just passed that bay there is a resort, aptly named Maho Bay, which is much a more upscale version of Cinnamon Bay, in that they are all cottages, a little more expensive, and have more amenities, such as a laundry machine. Granted they are for residents only, but you still have to pay, so we figured we'd give it a shot. To get to the resort we walked up what is called the Goat Path, which was no more than a little path going up the hill and did not look like the approach to a resort at all. It is by no means the front entrance, but rather the path they take to get to the beach, but still I expected it to be a little more trotted.

We were very luck because the Goat Path enters Maho Bay right at the laundry machines. They are in a little covered shack, two washers and two dryers. They even provide complementary biodegradable detergent! So we snuck right in and pretended that we belonged. There was a washer in full use and one in which the load had finished but was still inside. I wasn't sure what to do, but eventually reverted to my dormitory living days and just took it and put it in the available dryer (without starting it, of course). Then the woman whose stuff it was showed up! She wasn't too displeased, but the reason I mention her at all is because she really struck me as someone that I wished I could look like. She was slender and graceful, and wore some khaki capris and overlapping pink and lime shirts with just a simple seed necklace. It was very hippy without looking unkempt.

We decided to stick around until the washing cycle was done so we walked around a little bit. There is a little convenience store here just like at Cinnamon Bay, an information booth at which you can schedule tours and massage appointments, and even a glass gallery where they teach art classes. There are all sorts of activities going on, and a great focus on ecotourism. It seems that there are wooden pathways running along the hill, with cabins tucked away among the trees. The paths are often far above the ground, so you could almost feel like you are doing a canopy walk.

Once we had loaded our stuff in the dryer (for which I had to wait once again until the same woman came back and took her stuff) we walked back down the Goat Path to the beach to take a quick dip. It was actually getting to be pretty late now, almost sunset, and Husband decided to not even go in the water. I swam around for just a little while, and almost stepped on a ray while getting out. As we were watching the sun set I turned around and noticed a Little Blue Heron walking along the tree trunk where I had hung my bathing suit. He walked all over it, stopped right on the bathing suit top, and while were starring at him, took a shit! I ran over to take a look and he had missed the fabric by less than an inch!

By this point the no-see-ums were beginning to eat us up so we hiked up the Goat Path again. We wanted to get away with our laundry without anyone noticing, but that was a little difficult because there was a Maho Bay employee folding some of the laundry he had done in the industrial washer at his disposal. So we folded the laundry and headed away from the Goat Path and to the restaurant, where we knew the two Prisciallas would be eating dinner today. The restaurant is located very well at the highest point in the resort and is really a gazebo with an outlook over the bay and the tree covered sloped below. It was lovely but it was getting dark now and after saying hello to our friends we walked back, relieved that the employee seemed to be not looking, snuck away down the Goat Path and out onto the road.

Since we had planned a dinner with Ken and Eva for 7pm and it was already 6 and getting rather dark we decided to hitch a ride back. An older couple who are renting a house and seem to come to St. John often gave us a ride, so after a quick shower it was off to dinner. Ken and Eva had just finished an 11 mile hike across the island and back, something that we are considering as well. We picked their brains for all the information that we could about the trails because I was not entirely sure that I could do it - my self doubt pissing Husband off.

Dinner itself was boiled chicken and rice, which of course Husband could not eat, so after we had finished he was still hungry, poor thing, and cooked some oatmeal. Perhaps we will try and do the hike tomorrow after all...

St. John Adventure - Day 6 (Pelican Bay)

The kids, as I will now call those college students next to us, proved to be as silly as I had expected. When I got out of the tent they were walking around gathering little sticks, with the plan of making a fire to "boil some water". I explained to them that it was not very clever or efficient, and perhaps even not allowed in a National Park and told them to go to one of the vacant sites and use their propane stove. So off they went. I wonder if I was quite that clueless five years ago...

Today's trip was not entirely what I expected. We had made plans to go to Pelican Rock, which none of us could locate on the map but we were assured was the coolest, best kept secret on the island. Our troop today included both Priscillas, Cheryl, Jeff and us. Today was really the last day for Jeff and Cheryl because they will be departing tomorrow.

It had rained a bit but was fairly warm when we set out. The long ride in the taxi, with our trusty Ana behind the wheel, took us all the way to the East End of the island, literally to where the road ends. It is the furthest you can go to the east away from Cruz Bay, and involved some pretty crazy up and down and twisty turns, which is by now a familiar occurance. Still, we saw an entirely new sight of the ocean and new islands that I had not seen before. East End itself is almost like a separate island from St. John, attached by just a narrow spit of land.

The bay was immediately unimpressive, probably because the weather was really quite overcast. There were only two women on the beach (actually they were in the water) who were locals and very surprised to see tourists this far out of the way. They told us that the coral around Pelican Rock, which is a rock outcropping in the middle of the bay, was quite dead now, but that there was some decent snorkeling at the eastern most part of the beach. And that is where we trudged over the very rocky, or at least corally beach to try to find a spot with some sand and maybe sunlight.

One cool thing is that we finally got to see some of the famous St. John donkeys. Donkeys, chickens, goats and other livestock wonder around St. John basically wild at this point. I don't know if anyone eats them or tries to keep them, but we heard a lot of stories of caution about donkeys trampling tents and eating all the food at the campsite, but until now have not seen a single donkey at all. And here there were two, one white and obviously male as he had a gigantic black penis hanging down almost to the ground when we saw him (which he unfortunately retracted when I tried to take a picture).

We set ourselves up under a tamarind tree (and even got to eat some tamarinds, which was cool). I decided not to go into the water today as I was cold and feeling a bit out of sorts. Everyone swam quietly, probably aware that this was not quite what we expected. In the meantime, I explored both sides of the bay, which is always the areas rich in rock outcroppings and coral. On the east side I could not go far, but on the west I climbed over some cliffy parts, which were littered with pieces of crab and other creatures, and to a really tiny private beach from where I could see some really lovely rocks and corals. So I think that was quite worth it after all.

Also, I finally sat down and did a painting, my first out here. I was a little intimidated because there was a professional artist in our midst and had to remind myself that technically I am just as much an artist and she is. So I tried to not make a big deal about it and showed the picture only to Husband. He said it was nice and we spent the rest of the time watching the pelicans bomb dive into the water and gobble down their catch. Good times...


Eventually it was time to go, though it was not Ana who picked us up but another taxi driver. He was really quiet and surly at first but Cheryl quickly got him laughing and talking. He stopped the taxi several times to show us different plants, like the one they make maracas out of and one called moran which can heal rash. And just a little bit down the road we stopped to eat at a place called "Vie's Snack Shack", which I thought was fantastic! Vie is a little older lady who sells deep fried chicken and rice and beans literally out of a shack in front of her house. There are two or three tables under a tree, which itself is decorated with ceramics and orchids. Her little grandson was around and the taxi driver was entertaining him by playing all kinds of musical instruments - three kinds of maracas, some thing with beer caps, another one with grooves that you run a stick across and lots of others. He showed Husband how to make a simple instrument by grabbing a giant pod from a nearby tree and hitting it until the seeds come loose inside but the husk does not break. You can then shake it and the seeds rattle inside. He then had Husband sing to me something like "I promise... Not to bang you... With this stick....But to love you... With it" which I thought was both hilarious and inappropriately funny.

We didn't really get anything to eat but both of the Priscillas ordered the deep friend chicken, and both felt that it was undercooked, send it back for refrying, several times even, which I think really irritated Vie. By the end I think the driver was quite glad to take us away from there, and I felt like a stupid tourist again. As we drove through Coral Bay we saw two of the silly kids from the campsite waiting at the bus stop. We waved but they did not want a ride.

While Husband made dinner (rice and beans) the silly kids came back. One of them had stayed behind while two went exploring and had gotten fish to cook. I listened as the girl who had stayed behind told the other two about how she had passed out on the beach after too much drinking and did not know how she had gotten there when she came to. Then they started collecting sticks again to make the fish, and I offered them some charcoal that I had, though we warned them that it was a bit wet and needed some fuel. Husband tried to help them start a fire but it was a lost cause and they wondered away once more to use someone else's stove.

Priscilla the neighbor (as opposed to the artist) had dinner with us tonight. She told us stories of her travels (mind you she's 71!), among her favorites being England and Guatemala where she would like to go every year. She has also been to Honduras and bunch of other places where she likes to volunteer time with underprivileged kids. The woman is a powerhouse! The way she talked about Guatemala made me really want to go there.

The biggest event of the day, however, happened after Husband had gone off to take a shower. I climbed into the tent and was just rearranging his sleeping bag, which I don't even normally do, when I saw a HUGE spider scuttle out from under his pillow and under mine. I lifted it carefully, not wanting to believe the movement that I had seen and sure enough, there it was, hairy legs, huge hairy body and all. I wanted Husband to see it, and I thought that perhaps he may have some interesting method of getting rid of it, but I did not want to move and get a 'weapon' myself because I did not want it to run off and hide where I would then not find it right away. So I sat for the 15 or so minutes that it took Husband to shower and watched the thing. I am not usually afraid of spiders, but a thing this big next to my pillow, and having to watch it so closely, I tell you, it gave me the hibby jibbies. Eventually Husband came back and I called out to him that there was a huge spider in the tent. He could not see it from where he was and told me to just kill it. I did not have anything other than my water bottle nearby, so I took aim and smashed the hell out of that spider. As pulled the bottle away the damned thing was still moving so I beat it around some more until it was still. Only then did Husband take a look at it and I swear he almost shrieked - he had no idea it was this huge and thought that I was just exaggerating. So then we were a bit paranoid because how, after all, had that thing gotten into the tent. So I went through all our stuff before we finally settled in for the night. And you know the imagine runs wild when you turn off the light!!!

St. John Adventure - Day 5 (Cruz Bay)

I had meant to be productive today, do the laundry, clean out the tent etc, but it had rained in the night and all was wet - the tent, the towels and clothes we had hung outside to dry, some of the them smelling quite rotten now. It continued to drizzle as we ate breakfast - oatmeal, which Husband had cooked on a stove of one of the empty campground tents across the path, for we are out of alcohol to burn in our little stove. So instead of laundry, we decided to head into town to look for more fuel. As we were getting ready, new neighbors arrived - three college kids, freshmen probably by all the sense they were not making, two girls and a guy from 'the DC area'. They seem quite clueless but will only be staying a few days.

Getting ready was slow. I thought maybe I should take a shower. Then I thought maybe we didn't have enough time. Besides, showers here are cold, and when you step under the water it just takes the breath out of your lungs. By the time we thought we might be ready to go it was already time for lunch, so Husband made some food on Ken and Eva's stove, even though they were not actually there (with their permission, of course!) While he cooked I got bored and wondered off further up the path into the woods. There I came across some abandoned campground tents, collapsed in a heap on their wooden platforms and rotting, covered in leaves and other debris. Further up the path I walked into someone's campsite and was just going to ask the way back but then I recognized the woman as an acquaintance of Priscilla and stopped for a chat.

The woman, Priscilla Wiggins, is a nomad artist. She spends all year traveling around, mainly to the Virgin Islands, Hawaii, New Mexico, Texas and Colorado. She lives out of her tent, though she does own a little ranch in NM, without electricity or running water. She shows her work in some galleries, and paints each day, supporting herself entirely on what she makes from her sales. You can see some of her work here. She is a truly fascinating woman, quiet, gentle, a little peculiar of course, but so brave in my opinion, to have left all comforts behind to do what she loves. She showed me her watercolors and gave me a few postcards of her work from the desert at Big Bend, which are some of my favorites. I have invited her to come with us on some future adventures, and hope that she will come along.

Eventually we were ready. Instead of taking a taxi, which gets costly, we tried hitchhiking into Cruz Bay. The first car picked us up - it was a local kid, in his swimming trunks, smelling of sweat and pot, windows open, rap blasting from the speakers, and what looked like a tazer attached under the steering wheel. He did not say a single word until he dropped us off right at the entrance of the town at which point I offered him a few bucks for gas and he was all smiles!

When I say the entrance of the town, you have to appreciate how tiny it is. The very first building is a shopping center. There are maybe two or three streets, all crammed with restaurants, shops, smoothie stands, car rental places, real estate agencies and taxi cabs. It's all a bit of a tourist zoo. To get our bearings we walked into Mongoose Junction, a very popular shopping center. I was expecting something like a mall, but it was actually shopper's paradise. Uneven stories of little tiny shops and boutiques, narrow alleys, open air courts, tropical plants, cast iron staircases, all stone, shell, turquoise and palm tree, like a maze of cool fresh ocean breeze. I did not look in a single shop but admired the architecture and the landscaping and the beauty of it all.

The one place I did stop was the "Bajo el Sol - Under the Sun" art gallery. It featured art of only local artists, some great, some bland. Among my favorites was a ceramic artist called Mandy Thody, who is most known for her clay busts but my favorites were her frogs and underwater scenes, none of which I could, unfortunately, photograph. I found this one picture online, but it does not do her work justice...


On the other hand, one of St. John's most successful, or at least most advertised artists, and possibly even the owner of Bajo el Sol, Livy Hitchcock, was about as dull as could be. Her work looks still and lifeless, and I strongly suspect that she paints exclusively from photographs. Even so, here is an example of her work entitled "Olivia Rose", pastels.


Out in the beating sun again we walked across town to the Marketplace, to find The Hardware Store, in which we hoped to locate some fuel. We passed a school, painted brightly in pink and yellow, and took what could maybe be a 'back alley' in which we saw some dilapidated and half collapsed houses, all one story, and possibly one room even. The Marketplace was not as lovely as Mongoose Junction, but contained many practical stores. At the hardware store we found cans of denatured alcohol, which should be sufficient for our purposes. At the pharmacy we bought some needed toiletries and at the Starfish Market we got a few food provisions. Laden thusly with our purchases, but without the $10 machete that Husband had considered buying we walked back out of town and began trying to hitchhike again.

The first couple of cars passed us by but then a man pulled over and offered to take us as far as Caneel Bay, which is only about a third of the way but we agreed. His name, it turned out, was Gerald, a middle aged man, once again only in his swimming trunks, who by a strange coincidence had friends from our home town who were 'in the healing arts'. He wanted to know if we were 'in the healing arts' also, and insisted on giving us his friend's name. Why is it, I wonder, that people think that just because someone is from the same town, of a similar profession, age, sex or height, they might be interested in meeting some other random people that the person knows who are thusly similar? He chatted about how we seemed like really positive people, and I thought that perhaps he would go out of his way to drive us all the way to Cinnamon Bay, which was just another couple of miles, but nope. He dropped us off just outside Caneel Bay and off we were again trying to hitch a ride.

This time we caught a park ranger. I was worried at first, because I thought hitchhiking might be illegal and we may be in trouble, but he was really nice, and also new on the job (2 weeks) and he said that he had been instructed to pick up hitchhikers. He happened to be going to Cinnamon Bay as well anyway, because he wanted to take a look around and introduce himself, for he was now the head of law enforcement in the park. So we hopped in the back of the car, into the cagey, bullet proof criminal section, and Husband sad he was mighty glad he had decided against buying the machete.

For dinner tonight (rice with sauce of tomato, tuna and canned spinach, yum!) we had company - James and Christine. They are really lovely. James is kind of a joker, always saying something witty that makes you feel quite a fool because you just can't come up with a comeback. Christine is a skinny gorgeous girl, who is really expressive and interested in all manner of things. She is also a mountain biker, go figure! They live in Utah, where it is also very touristy, and have invited us to come visit, which I think I would love to do. Eventually, Heidi and Quintin stopped by our picnic table, and then a new person arrived, a guy named Aaron who I could not quite see but who seemed like the very definition of a 'surfer dude', long hair, shirtless, goofy and with a bottle of rum, except that he turned out to be the new ER nurse at the St. Thomas hospital. One of the little college girls giggled over also to take a look at the dude and brag about getting malaria at some point, all the while throwing her hips this way and that as she stood and chugged rum from the bottle. As we got into our tent at night, the smell of marijuana was drifting gently over the entire camp site....

St. John Adventure - Day 4 (Saltpond Bay)

Since we made everyone wait yesterday because of our tardiness, today we borrowed a watch from Cheryl to make sure our adventure for the day began on time. With us - Cheryl, Jeff, Priscilla, Ken, Eva, James and Christine. I was quite paranoid that the long ride (~30 minutes, I was told) on the windy roads would make me carsick, but I was quite fine. The trip was indeed long and had to go up some pretty mad hills and sharp turns to cross over the island's top and come down on the other side. There is a small town here called Coral Bay, which as far as I could see has more boats in the harbor that houses. I counted maybe 20 buildings, and that's that!

The sun on the South side beats down hotter and brighter than on the North, we are told. Indeed it was quite hot on the beach and we hid in the shade of some leafy trees. In the trunk of one of the trees there was a hole or a crack and Husband found three soldier crabs inside, two large and a small one, as if a small family was living in there. I wonder if the crabs climbed up on their own or were placed there by some prankster. Just in case, we let them be.

All maps of St. John suggest that the coral is on the eastern (left) side of the Saltpond bay, but it turned out that the best snorkeling was in fact on the west, about half way out of the bay by a rocky outcropping. Snorkeling here was a little different from yesterday, with coral being larger and more like small underwater islands, with tunnels and lagoons between them in which you could swim as if in a labyrinth. You could also swim up to the rocks and watch as the water rushes into the crevasses of the rocky outcropping, seaweeds and urchins and small fish being tossed to and fro in the current. It was, of course, beautiful beyond words.

Excitingly, we saw a shark. It was a nursery shark, I believe, a bottom feeder without teeth, but it was big, bigger than a meter long, and let me tell you, a shark is a shark and after taking a close look I swam as far from it as I could. Husband, more curious and braver than me, hung out and watched it for a while.

Swimming back to shore was a little tougher because the current seemed to be heading towards the ocean. We walked a little bit and took a look at the Salt Pond, which gives the bay it's name. It is like a still, empty lake, with foam all around the edge and not a breeze or a bird in site. Knotty bushes and cacti grow around it's edge and only bees make any sound. It was quite beautiful in in it's own right, and there were trails you could take to Ram's Head, which is the very tip of the bay and Drunk Bay, which is on the Eastern shore, but it was time for us to go so we could not explore further.

On the way back we made some stops in Coral Bay. First we stopped at a mini-market and bought some papaya and also pasta supplies. Then we stopped at a place called Skinny Legs, which is a bar/restaurant surrounded by gift shops and quite popular on the island. Everything was remarkably expensive in the store and the only thing I could afford was a post card. Ken and Eva checked their emails and Priscilla bought a hot dog for lunch. A little further out of town where the two roads that are on the island (route 1o - northshore road, and 20- centerline road) cross we also stopped for smoothies, but they weren't all that great, and were, just like everything else here, remarkably overpriced ($7!!!)

After we got back, Husband went out to swim again and snorkeled all the way out to the Cinnamon Cay, where he said at one point he was surrounded by an entire school of fish who darted around him like a cloud. And eventually we made our way over to Ken and Eva's, with whom we had made plans for dinner. They are a lovely couple, both of them architects, just a little older than us. Eva is a beautiful Polish woman with elegant features and Ken is a really intense and inquisitive person. They are both athletes and in obvious good shape, though they did not have much camping experience prior to this one. Husband cooked us dinner, which is something he has been doing every meal since we got here, and it was, of course, delicious (pasta, tomato sauce with canned veggies and tuna). We had a great time, chatting about our lives, our plans, our hopes, and ended the evening with a coconut opening tutorial - Husband is really quite an expert now!

St. John Adventure - Day 3 (Waterlemon Bay)

Today was a milestone in my life - I had oatmeal for breakfast for the first time in probably 10 years. I hate that gunky stuff and have not been eating it ever since I could feed myself. But we are roughing it now, and oatmeal is healthy and filling and easy to make, and so I must swallow my dislike, as it were. To be entirely honest, it was not quite as bad as I remembered. Perhaps with time I will get used to it?

The adventure for today was Waterlemon Bay, and it was fantastic. We were a little late getting going and made Cheryl and Jeff wait, but on the up side we have made new acquaintances - Ken and Eva from Boston who we met on the taxi to the bay. The taxi ride was far less terrifying in the daylight, and only 2 miles short with occasional views of beaches and ocean as we went up and down the hilly road. Cars here drive on the left, which is really not as weird as one might expect. The hardest part is remembering which way to look when crossing the road.

The taxi driver, Ana, dropped us off at the end of the road and we had to walk the rest of the way along the shore to the beach, the path made up not of sand or rocks but small pieces of dead coral. It was quite sad to see, though I am not certain if this was due to natural causes or damage done by the multitudes of boats moored in the bay. Regardless, I got to see and collect a few really beautiful chunks of coral. I wonder if I am allowed to take them off the island?

Snorkeling at Waterlemon was a marvelous experience, and even a little character building. Husband and I donned our wet suits, which seemed a little silly at first because the water is so warm, but proved beneficial in the long run, since we were the only ones not frozen to the bone by the end of the day. Before we even got in the water Cheryl called out to us and said she had spotted a turtle. The seafloor right by the shore turned out to be full of sea grass, and very popular with the turtles, for we spotted three within just the first few minutes. They weren't enormous, but over a foot long and reddish-orange in coloration. They were so beautiful and graceful, and not really afraid of us unless we came too close.

We proceeded to snorkel, fins and all, along the east side of the bay with the intention of swimming out to the small island (they call them cays) maybe 300 yards away from the tip of the bay (I am bad at judging distances though, so forgive me...). We saw some rays and also giant sea stars, which were as big as rocks I think, fat and colored a dull orange. All along I protested that I certainly could not make it. As we reached the edge of the bay and the waves got bigger and the island looked so far I way, I became quite annoying and whiny. There was a buoy about half way to the island and Husband suggested that I should try swimming to it and if I can't make it we would turn back. It was really unnerving the way you stop being able to see the ocean floor because it gets to deep and murky, and you just feel like you are floating over a bottom-less abyss. I have heard stories of people having heart attacks while snorkeling at the Great Barrier Reef because when they swim over the edge they see just how deep the ocean goes. I thought I could relate... But I made it to the buoy in no time and hung on to it for dear life while I caught my breath. I could see all the creatures that have turned the buoy's chain into a home, and it was pretty terrifying not seeing where the chain reached the sea floor.

But we swam on and made it to the the little cay. It has a real spit of a beach, just a few feet wide and coral and ocean all around. I was tired and slightly nauseous (tight suit? waves? salty water? who knows...) but I figured I am here and I might as well look around. So Husband and I snorkeled around the cay and it was so worth it! We saw the most beautiful coral, huge brain corals, stag horns, red ones and black ones and even cobalt blue coral! There were fish of all sizes and colors, turtles, cuttle fish and fish I do know the name of. It was so peaceful and beautiful and really left me with a profound sense of something or other, as they say. As we reached the far end of the cay and were about to swing around to the eastern side (the one facing more towards the ocean) the waves got to be quite scary and I was once again turning into a big baby - but I had come this far, and hadn't I learned my lesson yet? And sure enough, as if to reward my small attempts at will power and perseverance the coral on the eastern side of the cay was even more beautiful that any I had seen before.

By the time we made it back to the cay's beach I was totally exhausted. Husband, in his endless wisdom, had dragged along a Nalgene bottle with some fresh water with chunks of coconut floating in it. While before I would not have dreamed of drinking this water (I had a bad coconut water experience once and thought it was sour and unpleasant), I drank it up lustily, sweet water reviving me, easing the headache that had crept up, coconut flesh so deliciously sweet. We shared it with Ken and Eva, who were huddled on the beach trying to get warm, and began our trip back. Initially I thought I would just swim to the edge of the bay and walk the rest of the way back, but in the end I made it almost the entire way to the beach. Getting out of the water, after three hours of floating, felt like my limbs were filled with lead. I crawled on shore (no joke) on all fours and it took me some time to get walking. Everything swayed around me as I was a) blind without my glasses, and b) still moving as if the waves were rocking me. But how good everything felt! I had overcome some small fears and been rewarded with beautiful sights, and I had my Husband to thank for being so encouraging.

A quick dip without the wet suits - one feels completely weightless and free - and we were hiking back to get to the taxi. We did not have time to look at the Annaberg sugar mill ruins which are basically right there in the parking lot, but perhaps we'll come back later. And we already have plans for tomorrow - the whole crew, Cheryl, Jeff, Ken, Eva and us, will go to Saltpond tomorrow, which is all the way on the southeastern most corner of the island.

Back at the camp Cheryl and Jeff invited us to take a look at their cottage, which was fortunate because it caused us to take a trail passed the Tree Lizzard restaurant that they have here on the campsite and it turned out that they were having a welcoming party for newcomers, complete with free food, drinks and a raffle. We did not win anything, but drank some guava juice and ate some fruit, cheese and in my case chicken (Husband is vegetarian, after all) and got to the campsite rejuvenated. We did see the cottages, and they are alright (electricity, fan, cots) but I am not sure it is worth it.

Dinner was rice, falafel and stewed tomatoes, oh so delicious after a long and fun day! And we have new neighbors - James and Christine from Utah, whom we have invited to go to Saltpond with us tomorrow (along with Priscilla). In fact I am so tired now, that I almost wish we could take tomorrow to relax.

St. John Adventure - Day 2 (Cinnamon Bay)

We woke up fairly late, achy and disoriented but glad to be here. As I mentioned yesterday, there was no white gas to be had on the island so breakfast was delayed while Husband made an alcohol stove out of cans of cat food and tuna. In fact by the time we did finally get down to eating it was time for lunch and so our first meal in the Caribbean was rice pilaf (from the box). We have come quite prepared to feed ourselves, I believe, with provisions of rice, couscous, falafel, nuts and spices. There is a small market here at Cinnamon Bay which has a decent selection of canned veggies and tuna for prices comparable to what we saw in town (though more expensive than back home on the main land).

So while Husband toiled away cutting cans and making food I explored the area just a tad and stumbled upon a soldier crab path running through our group site. Crabs of all sizes could be seen lugging their shells around, until they spotted a curious observer approaching that is, at which point they would curl up, pretending to be entirely un-fascinating and not at all delicious.

While we were polishing off the pilaf new neighbors arrived - Heidi and Quintin from Philly. Heidi is a handsome, slender, dark skinned 30 something woman, dressed in that casual but extremely flattering and coordinated way that I can never achieve. Quintin is a hoot with a really mad, foot long (or longer) braided goatee. They have been here many times before, which is obvious by the way they had thought to pack such practical items as a straw mat for catching sand in front of the tent entrance, and clothes pins for the lines.

Today's adventure was simple - explore Cinnamon Bay and chill out. The beach is not much - soft light sand, turquoise water and some islands in the distance, including a Cay that one can probably swim to ( I think a cay is what they call small islands in the bay). The weather was actually a little overcast for most of the day and I got quite chilly in my bathing suit, so Husband and I decided to take a walk to the east end of the beach (the bay faces north). Here there were some rocky outcrops, which we braved without shoes, and coral pocking out every times the waves receded. We did not dare go far into the water because of the menacing way in which the waves crashed against the rocks and into the sharp coral (dead or alive, I could not tell). Every time we got into the water, I was worried it would try to wash us right back out.

Back at the beach Husband became determined to locate some coconuts. This proved simple enough because there are many coconut trees around, and coconuts, once ripe, simply drop to the ground. Before I knew it, he had found three coconuts and was pealing the outer husk with his very manly knife. I was a little concerned at first about the safety of Husband's fingers, what with the husk being so tough, but the only things that were damaged were the manly knife, which lots its tip somewhere on that beach (surely to be found by my foot at a later date), and the coconuts, which were really quite delicious. Now he is formulating plans to get a green coconut down from a tree, which is much more full of liquid and a favorite among true coconut connoisseurs.

By the time we got back to our camp site there was a cocktail hour in full swing (Priscilla and a very large crowd of her acquaintances who all come here at about the same time each year), so it took us a minute to realize that Cheryl and burly man Jeff's tents were no longer there. It transpired that they had relocated into one of the campsite's cottages (more like cement bunker, if you ask me) because Jeff wanted to be able to 'stand up when getting dressed'. But to our delight they came back to visit us while we were dining on rice and tuna, and we have made plans to go to Waterlemon Bay tomorrow. We are quite fortunately, I feel, to have Cheryl, Priscilla and the others here who know the best places to go, which will hopefully ensure that we don't miss out on anything during the next two weeks.

St. John Adventure - Day 1 (Arrival)

The journey started the day before as we caught the 7pm bus to NYC. Arriving at Port Authority no later than expected, despite the fact that the man who was meant to drive our bus had fallen ill and we had to wait for a replacement - a very angry Asian man who drove like a bat out of hell, we nevertheless got stuck on the E train for over an hour, with our 3+ bags and a train car full of irritated New Yorkers. After catching a few hours of sleep at our friend's bachelor pad, and somehow loosing his cat ( I really hope he did not escape out the window when I opened it after burning the toast - yes, it was that kind of morning), we got to the airport.

Check in was most confusing as it was our first experience with e-tickets. We went from one check in isle to another looking for the flight to St. Thomas, and even stood in line for a while at a mysterious line entitled "Caribbean" only to discover that it was heading to Jamaica. What we were meant to do was a self check-in, which is accomplished at one corner of the terminal by entering the e-ticket number and the number of bags into the computer, and tada - boarding pass! So in the end we were through security by 11am, a full half hour before boarding began. Even boarding was over before we knew it, and the flight itself turned out to be much shorter than we expected, so it was in no time that we were flying over the Virgin Islands.

As we approached St. Thomas we could see the brilliant ocean sparkling beneath us and many small and bigger islands scattered here and there, with little boats moving around and between them. It was my first landing of this sort, for as I watch out the window and saw nothing but water for a few seconds, the land appeared so suddenly as we touched down on the edge of the island, that I was quite startled.

We were ushered out right onto the tarmark, and could see the ocean just a few feet away as we walked to retrieve our luggage. We had decided to catch a ferry not from Charlotte Amalie, which is where the airport is, but rather from Red Hook on the other side of the island, mostly because I was very frightened of a long ferry ride. We found a taxi (or really, it found us) and our bags were loaded into the back of a huge van. Taxis here do not seem interested in driving just a few passengers around - and no wonder, the taxis are huge and gas expensive. So one usually waits until the vehicle is filled with people going in more or less the same direction that you are heading. This did not sit well with one middle aged couple who became quite rude to the driver at one point, and asked if he would be bothering to take us anywhere at all. Just as these impatient newcomers were unpleasant, the last couple to get into our car were even more obnoxious, for since they had been to the island many times they spoke at length about it in the most proprietary way - which seemed most rude to me since the driver was clearly the only local among us.

We drove through Charlotte Amalie and then up some really insane steep and windy roads, with the most sweet little bright homes scattered here and there until we past over the ridge or top of the island and descended to Red Hook on the other side. From here we got glimpses of a marvelous view of various harbors, surrounding islands and the beautiful turquoise water we had heard so much about. By the time we reached Red Hook's ferry dock it was 6pm and even though the ferry was still docked, they would not allow us to board. Since we now had an hour to spare, we found a little pizza place to grab a slice and a small market where we purchased a few provisions, namely pure alcohol for burning in the stove - for it turned out that white gas was not available in that town.

It was too dark to notice much about the ferry ride, other than the huge bats flying over the waves, which I think might have been the local fisherman bats. All we could see for a while were the lights disappearing behind us and new lights coming closer as we neared St. John. The ferry did a maneuver that seemed most complicated to me as it reached the dock at Cruz Bay, which is that it did a 3 point turn and reversed to the dock. I was impressed with the smoothness that was achieved, but I suppose the captain or whoever is in charge up there does this many times a day, every day for years and years.

Right off the dock we were rushed to a taxi, this one not a van but rather a sort of pickup truck with two benches along the sides in the back and a canvas roof. There were several people on the taxi, but once again some were dropped off someplace else along the way. In the end only one other person - a very gruff and grim looking man with a huge gray beard, was left on our ride to Cinnamon Bay - the campground where we will stay for the next two weeks. He seemed very at easy despite the terrifying drive at what seemed to me like crazy speeds, in the dark, through the woods, on windy up and and down roads. So I hung on for dear life and did not try to make conversation.

Check in at the campground was most simple and we received great news - that we would be able to stay at a bare site for the entirety of our stay, rather than having to move to one of their tents after 5 days as had been planned ($27 vs $80 a night). We were very excited by these news and made our way down to our spot, which was located at group site C along with 5 other tent sites. We had the toughest time finding it at first because we did not have our flash lights but rather tried to locate it by the shine of my poor little cell phone. I became quite disoriented at one point and found myself somehow at the group site without any idea how I had gotten there. At this point I was beginning to be quite crabby and unpleasant to my poor Husband, who snapped at me in return. It was lucky for us, therefore, that we finally found our site with the help of our new neighbor, Cheryl. She introduced herself, as well as the man who had already begun to assemble his tent next to us - the burly man from the taxi! We also met the woman who had a tent to the right of us, a most peculiar lady named Priscilla who told us to make sure to go through the trash in the mornings because you never know what useful things people will throw away as they leave.

After setting up the tent (no small task in the dark) we went to see the beach. It was dark, and the moon was small in the sky (though growing or not I could not tell because it hung on it's side like an outline of a cup), but we stood there and let the dark waters crash on our feet until even our pants became wet with the splashes and we were so glad to have made it here. And so we spent our first night on St. John, with the crashes of the waves keeping us company.