|
|
Caribbean Travel RoundupNewsletter - Paul Graveline, Editor |
| CTR Homepage | Island Index | Search |
Trip: 7/00 It was mid-afternoon by the time we closed on the small islands known as the Dogs. Anegada's beaches were fresh in our memories but were now far behind. Further sailing fun in the BVIs was our objective, but we had a revised plan of engagement. Simply, we were now in pursuit of the descendent sun and whatever adventure might lie in that direction. Of course, only the shameless among us would admit that our idea of adventure is a slow boat, a slow passage and a long happy hour. This is the idyllic way in which we meandered for the next several days, calling at as many of the smaller islands along Drake Channel's southside as our fervent lethargy allowed. By the following Sunday, we were back in Tortola to return our rented catamaran. The boat was intact but not our psyches. How could they be? You can't have fun like this without wanting more, more, more! Dispersal was by plan: Lynne & Dick to Philadelphia, Maryann & Bill to Burlington, Nancy & I to drooling - drooling, that is, over the plan we'd conjured in last month's CTR article - vacationing apres the sail, so to speak. So we said goodbye to our friends and left by cab for the half hour ride to West End. Our objective was to catch the early afternoon ferry for Red Hook and from there to our first destination, The Ritz-Carlton, St. Thomas. At the terminal, touts pitched respective St. Thomas ferries, Native Son and Smith's. At this hour, they're competitors as they leave only ten minutes apart. Each stops for customs/immigration at Cruz Bay and from there to Charlotte Amalie. Smith's, and Smith's only, makes an intermediate stop at Red Hook. Native Son doesn't dwell on this fine point when casting its net for all comers. After all, they'll help you get to Red Hook. It's just the trip is by cab, from Charlotte Amalie. The terminal exudes a wonderful West Indian atmosphere: festive, noisy and bustling. There are no verbal downers, everything is upbeat - "Sure, mon", or its variant, "No problem, mon". There's too much negativism at home. On vacation, things should be positive like this, however uninformed we remained about which ferry stopped at Red Hook. Pinning that one down took a little persistence. The trick is not to rely on the first response. That's a mantra recited to instill hope and optimism, not to convey information. Smith's ferry is Bomba Charger. Nelson would have lived to reminisce about Trafalgar if he'd had this baby. With no quarterdeck to strut around on, people sensibly take to interior space that's air conditioned and fortified like a man-of-war. Unique too, thanks to a visionary's winning bid at an aeronautical auction. The seats are old airplane seats. Three to a bank, six across with an aisle down the center, just like an airplane and just like another West Indian atmospheric thing - total incongruity. It's a little tight, though not for your legs. There's no room for them at all. This is actually good because otherwise the reclining seats might crush them. But don't fret, anticipate. Think airplane. Choose an exit row seat. Just about all the passengers were locals, Sunday travelers in a holiday mood. There was one other tourist couple, returning to their St. Thomas hotel after having spent a few days in the BVIs. To my envy, they displayed a burgee they'd earned by downing painkillers at a trio of Pusser BVI bars, the ones at Roadtown, Soper's Hole and Marina Cay. It would soon fly from their powerboat. Bomba Charger's good transportation and equally good entertainment, almost like an amusement ride, at least when the weather's fine and seas calm, as it was today. Aptly named, it charges over the water like a skimming bomb, creating consternation among annoyingly slow sailboats. I hadn't realized how those things impede proper progress. Behind Bomba's huge bow wave there were torrents of white spray, making a dramatic sight as it zipped though the Narrows and past Whistling Cay. In no time, the Durloes were behind us and we were pulling into Cruz Bay, where everyone had to leave the boat with their gear to clear dockside customs. We were back aboard in a jiffy and, presently, were underway for the jaunt across Pillsbury Sound to Red Hook. Port to port, the trip was 45 minutes, including the St. John stop. Plenty of cabs awaited. We were at The Ritz-Carlton within ten minutes. Up to now, this tale may seem contradictory, certainly inconsistent. Why would travelers who profess fondness for the elan of Anegada and the joy of Bomba Charger, both representing the very heart of the Caribbean, be going to The Ritz-Carlton, representing the very heart of corporate America? Needless consistency is the hobgoblin of small minds. Perhaps Nancy & I sought to expand our minds. But, in truth, it was consistency we sought. As is commonly known, The Ritz- Carlton name enjoys an international renown, a legend in its own time, the stuff of Conde Nast - whose Traveler Magazine, incidentally, rates the St. Thomas Ritz as the top resort in the Eastern Caribbean. Snafus, foul-ups and similarly unwanted surprises that can pop up in Caribbean travel are given zero tolerance at an outstanding place like this. The spontaneity of surprise may texture the soul of the Caribbean, but for this leg of the trip textured soul wasn't our aim. Consistency with outstanding reputation was. We expected it at the Ritz. We got it. As our cab approached the Ritz, I thought fondly of the last time I'd been here. The year was 1993 and my traveling companion had been my daughter who had recently completed graduate school. The property was then called the Grand Palazzo. Closed after hurricane damage, it was re- opened, more like reincarnated from what I'd heard, as a Ritz-Carlton in 1996. Set back and sheltered by lush landscaping, the resort is barely visible from the roadway. The visitor could easily drive by, mistaking the discreet bronze plaque mounted near the formal, gated entryway for a private club's marker. The gatekeeper signaled our cab through the entrance and onto a circular driveway. At the portico, Leonard, one of several bell staff on duty, welcomed us. Central casting misdirected Leonard to the Ritz. He rated a role in the foreign service. Tall, distinguished and well spoken, his salt and pepper hair and formal demeanor make him less the bellman than the diplomat. Our arrival required that he use both skills. Three hours before we had been on a cruising sailboat, a place without ironing boards but awash with clammy, wrinkled clothes stuffed into the shapeless, lightweight duffels favored for sailing stowage. We arrived at the Ritz, eh, out of sync. Most guests arrive from the international airport, some by luxurious cruise ship, a few even come directly via helicopter. Not many come on the Bomba Charger. But one way or the other, they arrive in snappy travel togs with trademark luggage, not attire best slept in and carrying a species of sacks. If Leonard noticed this, as he must have, he gave no clue. The main building is nostalgically named Grand Palazzo. It is fully open to air, sun and the pleasant sounds of birds and scents of flowers. No doors, just broad entryways. To describe its exterior, I must go out of sequence because the building is best viewed from the east, a view we had later in the day. Hotel brochures mis-identify the architecture as Mediterranean. Not so, it is plainly Liturgical. The building's architecture straddles the works of God and man. A stunningly beautiful villa set against a seaside bluff, it probably replicates some European landmark, though it might be a composite. No matter, the building's balanced arches, exquisite balconies and tall windows bespeak the style and grace of an ethereal thing, right up to the top of its faux bell tower from which angels might sing vespers at sunset. Nancy and I were reminded of Anguilla's Cap Juluca. Not because the Ritz is stark, white or Moorish. It is none of those things. The Ritz is warm, slightly peach in color with coppertine roof and Italian motif. The reminder was this: these two resorts were obviously preordained for their respective locations. Both are in perfect harmony with their selected environments, a symmetry especially appreciated when beheld from the sea. I've had the pleasure of seeing both from a sailboat, one more than Nancy has. Grand Palazzo's core is open, with a large, multi-story courtyard in the center. Taking advantage of its hillside location, the reception area has been placed on the second floor, providing the perfect opportunity to afford arriving guests an elevated, eye-popping initiation into the Ritz fraternity. To the east, there is a view not to be forgotten of the resort grounds, the Caribbean Sea and, in the distance, Cruz Bay and St. John. Leonard ushered us to plush chairs in what appeared to be a high ceilinged, fashionable Florentine sitting room but in reality is the hotel lobby. He volunteered to obtain the registration paperwork from the business counter which - in avoidance of disturbing the sitting room effect - is in a separate room of its own. Art trumps commerce at that particular counter. Its intricately carved wood facade makes the counter almost a museum piece. As he went for the paperwork, Leonard inquired of us, what would we like to drink? Opiate of babes in toyland. That's what I consider welcoming, free rum punches. Not that I've ever turned one down. But I mock the practice, as I did several years ago in a CTR review of Martinique's Les Amandiers Hotel. I was caught off balance, however, when told I had a choice of drinks. My mind went blank, causing my tongue to wag mindlessly: "A rum punch, if you please". Nancy cooly ordered her favorite afternoon refresher, a sea breeze, darting a glance of barbed condescension in my direction. If only I'd thought faster, I'd have ordered Dom Perigon, though I suspect I'd have gotten more diplomacy than the bubbly stuff. After registration and drinks, Leonard took us onto one of the balconies. Abloom with colorful flowers of every description and carpeted with sculpted ground covers and grass, the grounds are a horticultural marvel that could be a movie set. We could see the main dining room, appropriately called The Dining Room. It is adjacent to a building which houses banquet, conference and meeting rooms. Nancy trembled at the sight of all those corporate meeting facilities. Legions of masqueraders on the premises, that's what she feared - revenue code revelers, disguised as earnest conferees, obnoxiously tossing around bushels of pretax dollars in a garish and excessive way. Nah, not at the Ritz. It's true we later saw a few of them, here and there, identified by their laptops and little name tags. But they were behaving themselves. Nearby, would could see the Cafe, the three-meal-a-day restaurant, offering indoor and patio service under colorful umbrellas. Iguana's was in the distance. That's the casual place, serving resident domesticated iguanas an 11:15 am brunch/feeding but otherwise offering just lunch and dinner. Iguana's is located next to the free form, freshwater pool which, in turn, overlooks the palms bordering Great Bay beach. There's poolside/beachside food and drink service available, plus 24 hour room service. The watersports area was where you'd expect it be, as was Lady Lynsey the house catamaran which bobbed on its mooring. Beach snorkelers were intent at their pursuit as were beach snoozers. Scuba diving is off premises, though parasailing can be done over the sizeable Bay. Tennis courts are there but not in view from where we stood, nor was the distant Mahogany Run golf course. To the left but likewise not visible is the site where the Ritz is expanding. We'd read of this and had concerns about construction noise and distraction but it turned out to be a non-issue. Activities at the site could not be seen or heard from the principal grounds. To the right, but not obstructing the view, are six free-standing, two story hotel buildings of complementary, upscale design. I searched in vain for the memorial to fallen cost accountants, confident they would have fought to a man against this setup. These buildings are on an east-west axis, set at angles to each other and to the preferred eastern view. This is a very eye-pleasing arrangement, much better than lining them up like north-south ducks along the beach. Such an alignment would have desecrated Grand Palazzo, a sacrilege to its grandeur. However, this happy placement has reduced the number of rooms plausibly marketable as "ocean front", a call to arms for those who fell in valor. At 15 acres, we judged the property compact but not cramped. In outward appearance, its Virgins' neighbors - Caneel, Dix & BEYC - are less formal, as are Biras and Peter, with the latter much more intimate, too. All occupy spacious grounds, though not nearly as manicured as the Ritz' grounds. All seem to offer comparable beach and watersports possibilities, with the exception, naturally, of BEYC, a watersports' mecca. But for pure elegance and opulent appearance, Ritz is way heads above the class, and that includes Westin Leonard took us to the concierge's desk for a briefing on available services. We walked on marble floors past the small shopping arcade which houses a high-end clothing shop, nifty gift boutique and a sundries store. We also examined the billiards room, the fitness room and were shown where to find the beauty salon. No library? A great hotel, even of the resort variety, should have a library. Why none here? Thrift? I doubt it. The concept seems unknown. Our luggage had been loaded onto an oversized golfcart. Leonard, bellman cum chauffeur, was now joined by a staffer, Beatrice, who was with guest relations. She explained it was her department's task to insure that no reasonable guest need went unattended. Beatrice provided us with her business card containing guest services' switchboard number. Hand inscribed was her own cellphone number. We used the number to later contact her for solution of a minor problem. Nancy and I once stayed at the Oriental Bangkok. There are floor butlers there. Those guys made me nervous. I think I prefer the proximate distance of a cellphone. It's an innovatively bright idea in furtherance of being service-intensive. It was a short ride to our lodgings along what seemed a rainforest lane. But these are the Florentine tropics so there were fountains, statuary and mini-courtyards - stylishly authentic, not theme park hokey. There are 148 rooms and four suites. Our building was called Begonia and was centrally located. Featuring high quality construction materials, design niceties and the finishing of quality craftsmen, the oversized room and balcony were, in a word, posh. In two words, very posh. Multiple phones, robes, honor bar, coffeemaker, TV, ceiling fans, AC, digital safe, massive marble bathroom, plush bath and bed linens, tasteful tropical decor, fine furnishings and complementary appointments - all these things confirmed a big budget endeavor by skilled decorators and other gifted consultants. Then there's the twice-daily maid and evening turndown to make your beddie nice and comfy. You get the picture. Posh and sybaritic. A mini-squall arose from the east, drenching the property as we prepared to leave for a swim. In lieu of lunch, we considered snacking on our welcoming gift of rum and a rum cake, but rejected the idea knowing the rains were destined to pass as rapidly as they arose. Soon the sun returned, anointing everything with a fresh, sparkling appearance. We hoped for a rainbow but there was none today. Without further delay we headed for the pool, walking amidst more flowers, tropical plants and bushes, now glistening in the aftermath of the rains. Nancy Green Thumb spotted golden trumpets, hibiscus, frangipani, passion flowers, birds of paradise, tropical orchids and poinciana, plus others she was unable to identify. There were plenty of thickly mattressed chaises around the pool and an attendant to set them up with cover and towels. The poolside server wasn't in sight so I placed our luncheon order with Iguana's bartender, Shawn. Nancy and I then sat back to size up the clientele from behind our sunglasses. From the corner of my eye I spotted Shawn on the run, carrying a tray and scanning the idlers. I waved and over he came. It turned out the server had been delayed for some reason and rather than just let our lunch sit, he brought it out himself, running because he had to get back to the bar. As we were to notice, this was not atypical. There is a will-do, max- service ethic that seems ingrained in the help here, including the way all staff warmly greet the guests. This may sound like a stunt taught at a hospitality management school but, if so, it sure fooled us. Nancy and I like a friendly atmosphere but not something that is obviously consequent to a motivational rally of the seven dwarfs. Staff friendliness here is done in a way that doesn't seem phoney nor reduce the staff to sycophants. Anyway, all this made our salmon and sprouts wrap, and a brace of dirty bananas, a house rum drink, taste all the better. We snacked, swilled, swam, sunned, snoozed and ultimately sublimed by the pool. Then we walked down to the beach to do it all over again. Similar set up with chaises, attendants, servers and idlers. We resisted anything requiring expenditure of energy so we can't report on the hobies or the snorkeling. Soon, our demanding schedule caught up with us. Time to dress for dinner. There were four choices, two really. Room service didn't appeal to us, though dinner on the balcony with its nice view had some good points. A spectacular looking buffet was being set up at Iguana's, but we always eat too much at buffets so that wasn't a contender. The main restaurant, The Dining Room, offered a gourmet, fixed priced meal at $75 pp. With drinks and wine, dinner there would have set us back more than two large, a deuce of deterrents, plus there was a third. We had looked over the room earlier, discovering the fraternal twin of the hotel's check-in counter serving a worthier purpose there as a drinker's bar. Tres chic in every way, its floor to ceiling windows overlook the Caribbean but, the horror of it all, those windows remain shut, closing off the room for air conditioning! For us, that sealed out the very reason we were here. I concede summer's humidity creates a valid argument in favor of this approach. Perhaps the Ritz has responded to the preponderance of tastes on this subject. It's just not our taste. So we headed for the Cafe. We chose it for ambiance and comparative economy. Next time, we'll add superb cuisine to our reasons. Dinner at this handsome restaurant is served either on the outdoor patio, with seaward view, or indoors. Our bent is always towards the outdoors but the skies looked squally and we didn't want a rainy rousting. Raj, the maitre d', came up with a great solution, seating us at a inside table located immediately in front of wide French doors that were fully opened to the patio, the best of both venues. Nancy had a planter's punch, myself a gin martini with olive, straight up, leading to a second. Our wine was a California Chardonnay. Nancy and I share all our dishes, a fun practice we indulge where ever or whatever we eat. In the case of soup this means two spoons, good for a laugh with our server, Patricia. Nancy started with the two-spoon conch chowder. I went for a local lobster appetizer, served with marinated seaweed, shaved fennel, herb salad and mango sherry vinaigrette. For her entre, Nancy chose fresh black linguini with sauteed rock shrimp, mussels, coconut curry sauce and pineapple chips. I had the cumin crusted tuna medallions served with baby asparagus, red potato and teriyaki cilantro sauce. We shared some fruit and cheese for dessert. All these French-influenced dishes were in the gastronomic tradition, with nuances of taste and flavor that make it obvious why this cuisine is so revered. We left $135 lighter than on arrival. We'd chosen to dine full course, full bore, full price - consistent with the occasion. But if you're watching costs, there's no prohibition on trimming down the courses or ordering the better priced pizza and burgers. They're probably intended for kids but I doubt they'd card you. The dinner check for two teetotaling pizza sharers would be about $30. We walked off our dinner by strolling around the premises. We even went to the fitness room and tried out the treadmill, free weights and some other exercise equipment. Tried them out briefly, that is. Fresh fruit and iced bottled water were set out on a table. In the billiards room there is a small bar where patrons were having cigars and brandy which we passed up to walk back to our room under starlit skies. Next morning, the sunrise viewed from our balcony was one of the best I've seen. The sun rose methodically from behind peaks of St. John, the Bordeaux Mountains. We watched an ever increasing diffusion of light, individual rays like lasers and reflections arising off the turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea, all of which were heralded by birds gathered below at the salt pond. Almost as good as seeing a sunrise from the cockpit of a sailboat. We returned to the Cafe for breakfast, myself for a light continental, Nancy for her perennial favorite, Eggs Benedict - a crab cake version served with potatoes and asparagus. I extracted my share and can report the eggs at the Ritz benefitted greatly from their benediction. Later, we made use of the grounds for photo ops. We then went to the pool for reading the Sunday paper (a mere one day late) and swimming. On Tuesdays, they have a bizarre program called "Shop Talk", described as an orientation to shopping in Charlotte Amalie. Too bad it was Monday, I would have encouraged Nancy to attend, knowing her fondness for such things. Not. Lunch of salmon rolls and rum concoctions at Igunana's. We dined in the company of lounging iguanas. Nancy found them better mannered than lounge lizards. We packed and made our late check-out departure at 2:30 pm.
We are a group of five women, 3 professionals on vacation and two teenagers. We are all eager to sail, snorkel and explore as much of the Caribbean as we can fit into our week trip. I had read a short history of the Virgins, as named by Columbus in 1493 after St. Ursula and her following of 11,000 virgins who were attacked by the Huns and sacrificed their lives rather than submit to a fate less tolerable. Spain laid claim to this territory at the time, as it did with the Americas. There was a frontier mentality on the archipelago which makes an arch from Trinidad to Florida. The native Caribs,, who gave us the word "cannibal" were already inhabiting these islands. They had already absorbed the other native group, the Arawaks, and viewed the Spanish as more fresh dinner. Even the force of the Inquisition was not enough to conquer the determined violence of the Caribes. As Spain's hold on this territory began to fade, other nations began to use the Virgin Islands at a trading post due to their convenient location. Piracy flourished, and the term "privateer" was created to mean a sort of loosely legitimized brand of piracy for the benefit of the English, Dutch, French and Danish nations. Eventually colonization began to stabilize the evolving agrarian society based largely on sugar cane plantations, and brought with it the slave trade. In 1717 a census reports 625 people on the island of Virgin Gorda, half of them black. By 1750 the population had grown to nearly 2,000 with the largest number of them being slaves. The sugar beet became a cash crop in Europe at that time, which severely impacted the cane plantations, leading to slave revolts on all the islands. By 1800 the slaves were freed and the white population had all but deserted these islands. In 1893 it is reported that there were only two white men in the BVI, the Deputy Governor and the doctor. The economy was practically non-existant, and in 1917 the Danish islands were sold to the US as a strategically defensive position for protecting approaches to the Panama Canal. Eventually the unspoiled environment and comfortable climate of these islands began to attract tourists, and the islands themselves began to create a stable economy for the residents. What we are presented with now is friendly people, living laid back lives in an outrageously beautiful cluster of islands. Our charter began at Road Town, Tortola, where we spent the night at Village Marina Cay before departure. The open cab ride up and down the hills and out to Cane Garden Bay for dinner was an adventure timed perfectly for a dramatic tropical sunset revealing the adjacent islands. We walked along the sand to select one of the half dozen ocean front restaurants for dinner. Open porches on a wide white beach, live music, good food and the sun setting over the masts in the bay was our introduction to the Caribbean. After dinner, we decided to drop by the Bomba Shack, a popular hang out on Tortola. The structure is made entirely out of drift wood, beach findings and ladies underwear. This is a wild experience, and not to be missed. Built entirely out of driftwood with the underwear of visitors who cannot resist and evening swim stapled to the rafters, It became in my mind the world's largest lengerie display! Every driftwood surface was covered with hand written notes which dated back only to the previous hurricane. After each major storm a brand new supply of ocean worn building materials is delivered to the beach for rebuilding the completely erased previous structure. This has been going on for nearly 40 years. The music was impossible to resist, the other visitors were laid back and friendly, and the famous Bomba Shack Full Moon Party was on! The first thing I noticed walking up the pier to board S/Y Edruska the next morning was how elegant she looked. Captain Alan Reynolds and his wife Jo-Anne were as welcoming as the yacht herself. Edruska is a 63¹ Richleigh Yacht designed by Rich Ford. During his nine years of chartering he meticulously recorded the details of what makes a charter boat powerful to sail and comfortable to live aboard in a small notebook. These notes were central to the design of the yacht, and proved to be very effective at designing a fast sailing boat that is spacious and easy to live aboard. It is not hard to understand why the Virgin Islands are world famous as a cruising destination. USVI and BVI offer short hops between islands, line of site navigation, calm waters, plenty of wind and overall great sailing. Distance between islands is such that you can easily have breakfast in one spot, have a beautiful passage followed by lunch and snorkeling in another spot, and then head out again for a sail to a different anchorage in time to catch a sunset. We left Road Town and had an hours¹ sail to the harbor of Maya Cove on Buck Island off the eastern end of Tortola. The water is so clear that it is impossible to tell the depth, the beach is white and pristine. We were the only boat there, alone in paradise. Lunch was served on deck, comfortably under the awning. Cold tortelini salad, with salami and fresh crunchy red peppers, chilled white wine and fruit with one of Jo-Anne¹s special sauces on top was the first indication that we were in for many culinary treats on board Edruska. After lunch we headed to The Bitter End, Virgin Gorda. The breeze blew at 12 knots, and proud Edruska made clean and exhilarating passage. Our two 19-year-olds Katie and Jordan had a real desire to learn to sail, and Alan proved to be an experienced and talented instructor. All afternoon the girls were at the helm with Alan quietly near. They learned to feel the hull passing through the water, watch the shape and tension of the sail, observe the wind over the water, and generally perceive the boat as an animal interacting with her environment. He encouraged them to understand the primitive and the romance, but also to read the well laid out instrumentation. We were Gods of the ocean in the buttery afternoon sun as Edruska¹s fine hull cut through the water with that telltale shiver of full optimization. Virgin Gorda is 10 miles long with some peaks rising to 1000 feet over glistening beaches. As we approached, we could see boulders standing up out of the water, which gave way to wide, white stretches of sand. The vegetation comes in a perfectly orchestrated tapestry of color and texture, culminating in a horizon peppered with more of the giant boulders which just barely cleared the trees. The turquoise water below and azure skies above seemed to wrap themselves around this uncluttered place in peaceful isolation. The sun set over the stern, while the full moon rose over the bow. Life aboard a proud ship in the company of friends both old and new created the sense that we all wanted time to stop right here. Alan delivered fresh tropical frozen cocktails, while Jo-Anne made a snack of mushroom caps filled with mixed cheeses. Dinner was sea bass with a very thin crust of potato and Jo-Anne¹s wizardry with spices. Dessert was fresh sweet peaches and sliced almonds in crème fraiche topped with cinnamon. The next morning we set sail for a spot at the southern end of Virgin Gorda called The Baths. At first sighting we found huge boulders littered along the shore, and then in piles sprinkled with palm trees which formed the tip of the island. Alan ran us over to the beach in the dinghy and told us to take the "lovely path". The path is actually a trail through the piles of mammoth boulders. Water flows between them in places, forming turquoise pools large enough to swim in with streams of sunlight poking through. We played like children happily going from one beautiful space to another, over, under, around and between the rocks, swimming in sun streaked caves, and scrambling around the sandy paths. Lovely indeed. Meanwhile, back on Edruska Jo-Anne was fixing crab tortillas with shrimp sauce. When we were finally lured in from exploring the shore with promises of lunch, the table was all set. Snorkeling was one of our priorities, so Alan began to plan a route that would take us to the most beautiful spots at the right times of day. The BVI and USVI offer plenty of activity for those who would like to dance under the stars, but we were interested in good sailing, dramatic sunsets, quiet evenings and good camaraderie aboard. So, after another delicious meal, we set sail for Norman Island. The wind was up and we had a fine ride while we sat in the stern and talked with Jo-Anne about the islands that we were passing Ginger, Cooper, Salt and Peter. We sailed to Soldiers Bay for the evening and there was nobody else around. Just what we wanted. It had been a great day filled with coral and fish, paddling the kayak, and laced with excellent food. The moon performed again, and Alan gave us his night vision glasses. That is when we discovered that there is barely any space between the stars once you can see them all. The three cabins on Edruska are very comfortable, air conditioned and roomy, each with its own head & shower. But I slept on the fore deck cushions that night, because the sky was as big and bright as I had ever seen it. As I watched the stars emerge and listened to the gentle lapping at the hull, I felt like the luckiest woman in the universe. Being out in the air under the stars infuses your soul with a kind of poetry and connection to the islands. The next morning began at a lazy pace. I woke to the inviting smell of coffee and cooking in the galley. My friends emerged at their own comfortable times. Breakfast was served on deck, enough for twice as many as we were, and lots of variety. Over the three-course breakfast we discussed the tans that we were acquiring, and I was elected to ask the question. I told Alan that I currently did not have any tan lines, and was hoping not to get any. He had heard this from guests before and said that he would simply announce himself before coming forward on deck. From then on, the forward cushions were known as Lido Beach and total tanning was on. Our photographer Dana is fearless, and she asked Alan if he would get her to the top of the mast. He was happy to oblige. She took photos of the islands from the top spreader. Watching her up there prompted me to want to see the view from 88 feet up. Before long the others wanted to go up too. My sister Audrey went only as far as the first spreader, due to her concerns with heights. Our captain was very attentive to the person in the boson¹s chair and he stopped immediately at the first sign of her discomfort. When you wanted to come down it was an easy ride. Alan told me that no other guests had asked for this particular adventure, but from the mast you can see over the islands, from horizon to horizon and down into the coral reefs under the clear turquoise water. Alan wanted us to see The Caves on Norman Island, so we moved Edruska around the point. Dana had her Nikonos loaded, and armed with a plastic bag full of bread we swam over. The amount and variety of marine life was amazing, and the fish emerged from every crevice when we began to feed them. We even had some time in the company of a sea turtle. The caves themselves are big enough to swim into, and contain a kind of glittery light that makes you want to stay forever. After lunch at the caves we set sail for Lameshur Bay, on St. John¹s east end. The afternoon sail was so fast and beautiful that we were all hoping that it would take longer. After anchoring we took a drive into Cruise Bay to do a little necessary souvenir shopping and to clear customs as this was now the USVI. The mountain road is treacherous with switchbacks and drop offs. Still the road offers views into the turquoise bays. St John¹s is 3/4s National Forest, so there are plentiful hiking trails. We arrived back in time for a sunset hike to the farthest eastern point, Ram¹s head. It¹s an easy one-mile walk through low shrub, with a variety of cacti. From here there are dramatic views back on to Salt Pond and towards Tortola. We saw a glorious sunset enroute, and got back to Edruska just before dark. Alan¹s justly famous frozen pina coladas were served with baked mussels. Dinner was Grouper with salad followed by chocolate soufflé and a dramatic celestial display. We woke to another perfect day in paradise. Alan is a dive instructor, and Edruska has tanks aboard but the water is only 30¹ or so deep and perfectly clear for snorkeling. We set out from the stern with snorkels and swam out to the point. We saw a huge barracuda along the way, and lots of different fish and corals, but the big treat was that we got to hang out with a sea turtle. Alan went right to the bottom and swam next to it looking for all the world like a dolphin. We also found two different types of rays, and some squid during our swim, but it was time to head around to the north side of St. John. Edruska did her thing at 9.5 knots with the gennaker up, and we had a fabulous passage to Leinster Bay, where we stopped for another suit expanding lunch of salmon salad completed by carrots carved into palm trees, green pepper slices for fronds, with olives standing in for cocoa nuts. There is a small island at the entrance to Leinster Bay which demanded exploring, and a wide view of the Sir Francis Drake Channel and Tortola. The kayak went into the water again, some of us snorkeled. Again we all hoped that time would stop and leave us in this clear water, under sunny skies on a sailing yacht surrounded by good friends. We motored around the point to find anchorage for the evening in Francis Bay. By then it was that lovely time when Alan would come up the companionway with yet another variety of his now legendary island concoctions. Dana, Audrey and I firmed up our plans to hijack Edruska. We told Alan and Jo-Anne our plans and they described headlines reading "Crew Resists All Attempts at Rescue". The next morning we headed for Christmas Cove on the western point of St. John. The girls snorkeled with a spotted ray that Alan told us is always there to greet his guests. In the afternoon we headed for Jost Van Dyke. This was going to be our only real land based party. As the evening came on we decided to have dinner at Foxy¹s. This is a spot famous for good food, cold beer and excellent music. We danced late into the night, and slept late into the morning. All of us would tell you not to miss an evening on Jost, because it really makes you feel that life is grand and time simply is irrelevant. We had become one family of explorer¹s during this week in the Caribbean, and could not believe that it was coming to a close. Just to spend a bit more time together we made plans for dinner at a night spot called Latitude 18 in Red Hook, St Thomas. The girls had hand painted a T-shirt for Alan, which we brought with us and presented with great ceremony. We danced to El Gato Grande until we simply could not dance any longer. It was the perfect ending to a perfect week of roaming free in paradise.
The official The Caribbean Travel Roundup World Wide Web site is http://caribtravelnews.com. The CTR is also available on America Online. Contact: Paul Graveline, 9 Stirling St., Andover, MA 01810- 1408 USA :Home (Voice or Fax) 978-470-1971. E-mail via editor@caribtravelnews.com or CTREDITOR@aol.com