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The Bananas Don't Quit, But the Peli Can, Trip Report Day 2
The Bananas Don't Quit, But the Peli Can, Trip Report Day 2
Trip Report Day 2, March 14, 2009
My eyes are still closed, and I am aware of the repetitive sounds of a bird chirping. My brain starts cataloging the sound to determine the source, but it is not exactly like anything I’ve heard before. I sit up in bed and gaze curiously out across the covered south deck of Bo Atabey, and I’m mildly surprised to find myself on St. John. I was afraid I dreamed it.
There is a little tree rising just past the railing, and the top branches boil with little birds hopping from twig to twig, indignantly scolding, Chip! Chip! Chip! I step out on the deck but they don’t fly away, they only get bolder, hopping on the arms of the chairs, the Saltillo tile floor, the little tables. They are trying very hard to tell me something that I am apparently too dim to understand.
Eventually my sleep soaked brain remembers reading on the VIOL Forum about the little yellow birds that like to eat sugar. Bana..something. Bananaquits. By now the girls are stirring, so I go in the kitchen and find a dish to sprinkle with sugar. For the next half hour we amuse ourselves watching as a swarm of the little yellow birds jockey for their sugar fix. The feeding frenzy eventually attracts a Lesser Antillean Bullfinch, but he doesn’t stay long. One of my girls remarks that they are called Bananaquits because they are yellow and they don’t quit bugging you until you feed them.
Sitting on the deck, we take note of several groups of hikers headed up the Johnny Horn Trail. And also the fact that there is a very, very large dog apparently taking a nap in the middle of the road leading down to Coral Bay.
We spy several derelict sailboats in Coral Bay Harbor, and name them Sink, Sank and Sunk.
Now that those saucy little birds are taken care of, we head down Seagrape Hill and find a parking space in front of the Donkey Diner. We opt to sit inside. The service is very good, the food is too. N asks the parents’ permission to snap a photo of this little cutie who was totally rockin out to her Ipod.
Choosing your “first” beach on STJ is not terribly difficult, because they are all charming in their own unique way. I wanted our first beach to be something really special. I chose Maho for several reasons. First, it was close by, just a quick trip up Centerline to the North Shore road. You begin to get the tantalizing glimpses of blue between the trees as you head west. You know you’re there when you begin to see Jeeps parked all along the road in any available nook and cranny. Pull over, grab your gear, step across the street and THIS is what greets you.
We stood poised at the edge of the beach, frozen for just a moment while we tried to convince ourselves this is all real. Then we started to grin like idiots, and smiles lit our faces all afternoon.
The water was warm, the breezes barely tickly, just the way we like it..
This was a great place to get up to speed on our snorkeling. I didn’t want the best snorkeling beaches to be first, until we honed our skills. As the morning progressed, the waves picked up and the bottom stirred, but we enjoyed spying on the sea turtles, and giggling at the rays splashing around us in the knee deep surf. There were several varieties of fish.
We enjoyed the antics of the pelicans, who don’t seem to care who they frighten by swooping in low over your head on a dive bombing mission. Here’s some random pretty lady being startled.
After a couple of hours, I noticed something was happening. My mind normally roils with words…words…words…but something different was going on. I was beginning to just BE. Giving in to the rhythms of the wind, and the surf. I felt quieter on the inside.
This Pearly Eyed Thrasher decided he had to try and get inside our mask cases.
Eventually hunger drove us to seek a late lunch/early dinner. We went to Big Belly Deli in the Cocoloba Plaza, and grabbed some turkey sandwiches. Took them back to the villa, ate as much as we could stuff in, and each of us retreated to our own little private corner to reflect on the day. There are all sorts of wonderful little seating areas both indoors and outdoors at Bo Atabey. My husband called me over to show me a pair of Kestrel Hawks fluttering around on the deck. Eventually they soared off over the Johnny Horn Trail.
I took an outdoor shower, and settled in to check my email.
A and I were not hungry for dinner. M and N drove down to Island Blues. They brought back some chicken fingers to tempt A with.
I went to bed and dreamed about fishies. Sometime during the night there was a heavy rain.
My eyes are still closed, and I am aware of the repetitive sounds of a bird chirping. My brain starts cataloging the sound to determine the source, but it is not exactly like anything I’ve heard before. I sit up in bed and gaze curiously out across the covered south deck of Bo Atabey, and I’m mildly surprised to find myself on St. John. I was afraid I dreamed it.
There is a little tree rising just past the railing, and the top branches boil with little birds hopping from twig to twig, indignantly scolding, Chip! Chip! Chip! I step out on the deck but they don’t fly away, they only get bolder, hopping on the arms of the chairs, the Saltillo tile floor, the little tables. They are trying very hard to tell me something that I am apparently too dim to understand.
Eventually my sleep soaked brain remembers reading on the VIOL Forum about the little yellow birds that like to eat sugar. Bana..something. Bananaquits. By now the girls are stirring, so I go in the kitchen and find a dish to sprinkle with sugar. For the next half hour we amuse ourselves watching as a swarm of the little yellow birds jockey for their sugar fix. The feeding frenzy eventually attracts a Lesser Antillean Bullfinch, but he doesn’t stay long. One of my girls remarks that they are called Bananaquits because they are yellow and they don’t quit bugging you until you feed them.
Sitting on the deck, we take note of several groups of hikers headed up the Johnny Horn Trail. And also the fact that there is a very, very large dog apparently taking a nap in the middle of the road leading down to Coral Bay.
We spy several derelict sailboats in Coral Bay Harbor, and name them Sink, Sank and Sunk.
Now that those saucy little birds are taken care of, we head down Seagrape Hill and find a parking space in front of the Donkey Diner. We opt to sit inside. The service is very good, the food is too. N asks the parents’ permission to snap a photo of this little cutie who was totally rockin out to her Ipod.
Choosing your “first” beach on STJ is not terribly difficult, because they are all charming in their own unique way. I wanted our first beach to be something really special. I chose Maho for several reasons. First, it was close by, just a quick trip up Centerline to the North Shore road. You begin to get the tantalizing glimpses of blue between the trees as you head west. You know you’re there when you begin to see Jeeps parked all along the road in any available nook and cranny. Pull over, grab your gear, step across the street and THIS is what greets you.
We stood poised at the edge of the beach, frozen for just a moment while we tried to convince ourselves this is all real. Then we started to grin like idiots, and smiles lit our faces all afternoon.
The water was warm, the breezes barely tickly, just the way we like it..
This was a great place to get up to speed on our snorkeling. I didn’t want the best snorkeling beaches to be first, until we honed our skills. As the morning progressed, the waves picked up and the bottom stirred, but we enjoyed spying on the sea turtles, and giggling at the rays splashing around us in the knee deep surf. There were several varieties of fish.
We enjoyed the antics of the pelicans, who don’t seem to care who they frighten by swooping in low over your head on a dive bombing mission. Here’s some random pretty lady being startled.
After a couple of hours, I noticed something was happening. My mind normally roils with words…words…words…but something different was going on. I was beginning to just BE. Giving in to the rhythms of the wind, and the surf. I felt quieter on the inside.
This Pearly Eyed Thrasher decided he had to try and get inside our mask cases.
Eventually hunger drove us to seek a late lunch/early dinner. We went to Big Belly Deli in the Cocoloba Plaza, and grabbed some turkey sandwiches. Took them back to the villa, ate as much as we could stuff in, and each of us retreated to our own little private corner to reflect on the day. There are all sorts of wonderful little seating areas both indoors and outdoors at Bo Atabey. My husband called me over to show me a pair of Kestrel Hawks fluttering around on the deck. Eventually they soared off over the Johnny Horn Trail.
I took an outdoor shower, and settled in to check my email.
A and I were not hungry for dinner. M and N drove down to Island Blues. They brought back some chicken fingers to tempt A with.
I went to bed and dreamed about fishies. Sometime during the night there was a heavy rain.
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NoWorriesMom
- Posts: 150
- Joined: Mon Aug 07, 2006 4:45 pm
- Location: Boulder, Colorado
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designbyroe
- Posts: 1348
- Joined: Tue Feb 27, 2007 1:27 pm
- Location: Chilaxin on White Bay at least in my mind
I am really diggin how you are doing it one day at a time......it is just so relaxing.....
It is like being on island with you.....one moment at a time......thank you
That little girl looks so familiar. I thought maybe that was Hillary and Scott's little one from Rhumblines....maybe I am wrong.
It is like being on island with you.....one moment at a time......thank you
That little girl looks so familiar. I thought maybe that was Hillary and Scott's little one from Rhumblines....maybe I am wrong.
There's no $ sign on a peace of mind, this I've come to know
