Wander, My Friends: Trip Report, Day 5
Posted: Thu Mar 26, 2009 3:16 pm
We woke up raring to go see more of the island. Cooked some breakfast and hit the road.
First stop was Crabby’s. The mask we bought A back home just wasn’t working out for her. She had to use one of Captain Phil’s the day before. Mr. Crabby fitted her expertly, and we rented a mask. A also picked up a few shark shaped bottle openers for her friends.
It occurred to me that I should make some mention of the goods and services available in Coral Bay. The Domino Gas Station had signs on all the pumps, NO GAS and the door to the building looked boarded up. We did some late night shopping at the Love City Mini Mart, and the crew there is real nice. They offered to lug my bottled water case out to the jeep which was appreciated. Lily’s Market in Cocoloba Plaza had a nice selection of foods, we bought our breakfast items here. I loved the New Zealand butter. It’s the closest thing taste wise I have found to the raw organic grassfed butter I eat at home. The lady at Keep Me Posted was very nice, and the charges for internet boarding pass printing were quite reasonable.
All three of my most dread filled moments on St. John involved ready mix trucks. As we crested a hill on our way to Salt Pond Bay, we came face to face with a big old concrete truck headed downhill in the opposite direction…in OUR lane. He had pulled into our lane to let folks pass who were trapped behind him. For an old guy, M still has some pretty good reflexes, and thank goodness the Jeep had some pretty good brakes. The next dread moment was when M spotted the concrete truck yard off Centerline just as he was about to execute a hairpin turn. M is a concrete guy, so he was a bit distracted by ogling the trucks and I had to shriek to get his attention. The third incident was watching a ready mix truck BACK down Seagrape Hill, while it made loud grinding noises. I was in no danger, but seeing that still gave me the willies.
At any rate we arrived physically unscathed at the Salt Pond parking area, which was full up, so we tucked into a little nook next to the road and headed down the long path to the beach. I had to be careful where I stepped because the soles of my water shoes did not really protect from putting all my weight on a rock, and I didn’t want to bruise my foot or twist an ankle.
The beach was very well attended that day. I stopped counting after 50 people, but there were possibly twice that many.
The right side.
Lots of families with kids. Most of them were charming and quiet and well behaved, except the ones we sat next to.
A beachscape.
M and I plopped down in the sand under a seagrape, the girls wanted to hike Ram’s Head so they started out walking.
I wasted no time getting wet. I found that there was a gentle outflowing current on the left side of the beach (as you look out to the ocean), and that suited me just fine. I was swimming without flippers. There didn’t seem to be much of a swell, so I hung motionless over a fairly shallow portion of the rocky reef and let the drift take me out to the point. Swam back in over the deeper sandy area, turned, drifted, and repeated several times.
After about an hour in the water I realized that I had forgotten to bring my rash guard bottoms. That did not bode well for the backs of my legs.
Cuke poop?
Drifting motionless over that reef, doing nothing of my own volition but breathing…it was practically an out of body experience. I had the camera with me but forgot to use it after the first few shots.. There was a good variety of fish here, and I felt like a voyeur as I hung over them, watching the interactions of their daily lives.
M tends to snorkel the sandy areas, to watch the turtles and rays.
This little guy was snorkeling piggy backed. He was grinning the whole time…with his mouthpiece dangling.
Meanwhile the girls were hiking to Ram’s Head. It was a great temptation, but they left all the pretty shells where they found them.
Cactus.
Cobblestone art.
Nice view.
I dragged myself out of the water to snap a photo of the Salt Pond, but could not work up the ambition to take the quick jaunt to Drunk to see the waves and the flotsam and the art and the jetsam.
The girls returned, enthusiastic about their hike. A and N snorkeled with me a while, and N pointed out the squirrel fish hidey holes, and a squadron of trumpetfish. I got plowed into twice, by people motoring by with fins a flapping. I guess it is so easy to get entranced by what you see down below that you forget to look where you are going.
Hunger took us eventually, so we did the hike up the incline back to the jeep. The girls changed their clothes between the Jeep door and a towel. I opted to go soggy.
We were drawn into the Tourist Trap. I liked everything about this place. Pleasant service, good food, a casual hang out that’s like sitting in your own back yard with friends.
Looking back from our table.
Drink Menu.
Lots of antique bottles stuck in the cactus. I guess this has been a party spot since glass was invented.
We giggled at the sign for the Bush Cat Feeding Station, but I Googled it after I got home. Interesting. Come to think of it, all but one or two of the kitties that came over to make friendly with us around the entire island were black.
After a relaxing evening at Bo Atabey, we headed back to Skinny’s for dinner. The girls wanted to go to Cruz Bay for some action, but us old folks were just too tired to take them there. It was St. Patty’s day, and N celebrated with a Shamrock Bushwhacker. Between the four of us, we were not able to make that drink go away. In my mind, I have renamed it Death Wish.
I stuck to the pale island ale. We spent a lot of time making demented leprechaun faces at each other, and a good time was had by all.
We went to bed early because we knew we would need all of our strength to endure the trials that would face us on the morrow. For tomorrow we were going SHOPPING.
First stop was Crabby’s. The mask we bought A back home just wasn’t working out for her. She had to use one of Captain Phil’s the day before. Mr. Crabby fitted her expertly, and we rented a mask. A also picked up a few shark shaped bottle openers for her friends.
It occurred to me that I should make some mention of the goods and services available in Coral Bay. The Domino Gas Station had signs on all the pumps, NO GAS and the door to the building looked boarded up. We did some late night shopping at the Love City Mini Mart, and the crew there is real nice. They offered to lug my bottled water case out to the jeep which was appreciated. Lily’s Market in Cocoloba Plaza had a nice selection of foods, we bought our breakfast items here. I loved the New Zealand butter. It’s the closest thing taste wise I have found to the raw organic grassfed butter I eat at home. The lady at Keep Me Posted was very nice, and the charges for internet boarding pass printing were quite reasonable.
All three of my most dread filled moments on St. John involved ready mix trucks. As we crested a hill on our way to Salt Pond Bay, we came face to face with a big old concrete truck headed downhill in the opposite direction…in OUR lane. He had pulled into our lane to let folks pass who were trapped behind him. For an old guy, M still has some pretty good reflexes, and thank goodness the Jeep had some pretty good brakes. The next dread moment was when M spotted the concrete truck yard off Centerline just as he was about to execute a hairpin turn. M is a concrete guy, so he was a bit distracted by ogling the trucks and I had to shriek to get his attention. The third incident was watching a ready mix truck BACK down Seagrape Hill, while it made loud grinding noises. I was in no danger, but seeing that still gave me the willies.
At any rate we arrived physically unscathed at the Salt Pond parking area, which was full up, so we tucked into a little nook next to the road and headed down the long path to the beach. I had to be careful where I stepped because the soles of my water shoes did not really protect from putting all my weight on a rock, and I didn’t want to bruise my foot or twist an ankle.
The beach was very well attended that day. I stopped counting after 50 people, but there were possibly twice that many.
The right side.
Lots of families with kids. Most of them were charming and quiet and well behaved, except the ones we sat next to.
A beachscape.
M and I plopped down in the sand under a seagrape, the girls wanted to hike Ram’s Head so they started out walking.
I wasted no time getting wet. I found that there was a gentle outflowing current on the left side of the beach (as you look out to the ocean), and that suited me just fine. I was swimming without flippers. There didn’t seem to be much of a swell, so I hung motionless over a fairly shallow portion of the rocky reef and let the drift take me out to the point. Swam back in over the deeper sandy area, turned, drifted, and repeated several times.
After about an hour in the water I realized that I had forgotten to bring my rash guard bottoms. That did not bode well for the backs of my legs.
Cuke poop?
Drifting motionless over that reef, doing nothing of my own volition but breathing…it was practically an out of body experience. I had the camera with me but forgot to use it after the first few shots.. There was a good variety of fish here, and I felt like a voyeur as I hung over them, watching the interactions of their daily lives.
M tends to snorkel the sandy areas, to watch the turtles and rays.
This little guy was snorkeling piggy backed. He was grinning the whole time…with his mouthpiece dangling.
Meanwhile the girls were hiking to Ram’s Head. It was a great temptation, but they left all the pretty shells where they found them.
Cactus.
Cobblestone art.
Nice view.
I dragged myself out of the water to snap a photo of the Salt Pond, but could not work up the ambition to take the quick jaunt to Drunk to see the waves and the flotsam and the art and the jetsam.
The girls returned, enthusiastic about their hike. A and N snorkeled with me a while, and N pointed out the squirrel fish hidey holes, and a squadron of trumpetfish. I got plowed into twice, by people motoring by with fins a flapping. I guess it is so easy to get entranced by what you see down below that you forget to look where you are going.
Hunger took us eventually, so we did the hike up the incline back to the jeep. The girls changed their clothes between the Jeep door and a towel. I opted to go soggy.
We were drawn into the Tourist Trap. I liked everything about this place. Pleasant service, good food, a casual hang out that’s like sitting in your own back yard with friends.
Looking back from our table.
Drink Menu.
Lots of antique bottles stuck in the cactus. I guess this has been a party spot since glass was invented.
We giggled at the sign for the Bush Cat Feeding Station, but I Googled it after I got home. Interesting. Come to think of it, all but one or two of the kitties that came over to make friendly with us around the entire island were black.
After a relaxing evening at Bo Atabey, we headed back to Skinny’s for dinner. The girls wanted to go to Cruz Bay for some action, but us old folks were just too tired to take them there. It was St. Patty’s day, and N celebrated with a Shamrock Bushwhacker. Between the four of us, we were not able to make that drink go away. In my mind, I have renamed it Death Wish.
I stuck to the pale island ale. We spent a lot of time making demented leprechaun faces at each other, and a good time was had by all.
We went to bed early because we knew we would need all of our strength to endure the trials that would face us on the morrow. For tomorrow we were going SHOPPING.
Salt Pond is a real favorite...love the "right side" picture...your reports evoke the feeling of being there; thanks for taking me away for a few minutes 
Thanks!