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The Redemption Tour - the report
The Redemption Tour - the report
<i>You're all warned. In fact, I don't even advise reading this. It's too long and just horribly awful. For the faint at heart that do choose read it, I think I pulled out all the F words, but some other lurid language remains. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
You all know where to find the unedited versions.
I use too many words. I'll try to add pictures later, but this has taken me over a week. And no...I don't re-read what I write. I don't edit. I more or less barf out words and hope they form sentences.
Enjoy...or don't. I couldn't care less.</i>
You all know where to find the unedited versions.
I use too many words. I'll try to add pictures later, but this has taken me over a week. And no...I don't re-read what I write. I don't edit. I more or less barf out words and hope they form sentences.
Enjoy...or don't. I couldn't care less.</i>
Saturday July 24
4:30AM: BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP. Here we go. It's vacation time. Shockingly, we'd slept fairly well the night before. Chicken was at her grandparents' house and we just needed to pack the cooler and go.
5:25: We pulled out of the house. The cooler came in at 47lbs. We had a 7:10 flight to ATL and then a 10:00 to STT. We were hoping against hope to be on a 3:00 ferry to St John.
Check in was not bad and we got through security with plenty of time to spare. We were settled and at the gate by 6:15 or so. In retrospect, a lot of things look clearer now. At the time, I was sleepy and already working on getting to Island Time.
6:50: Why aren't we boarding?
"We're sorry folks, but there's a delay with your flight attendants getting here. We're not sure where they are right now, so we'll be a little late"
At this point, I should have flown into action. I failed to do so and suffered the consequences...
I felt confident that, even with a minor delay, we'd be OK to make the next flight.
7:00: We're sorry folks. Your flight will be delayed until 11:00.
WHAT?!?!?!?!
Now I was in motion. I checked the board and noticed an 8:20 flight to ATL. I sent S to that gate to see if they had seats. I started dialing Delta "We're sorry...due to call volumes, please try back later". SHIT!!!!! I called my father and got him on the search for new flights. I had all the connection times out of ATL, and was ticking them off in my head, and dreading each one more and more.
Finally, I got through to Delta. They told me there was no flight at 11:00; we'd been cancelled. They failed to tell anyone that. I was informed that there were plenty of seats from ATL to STT for the rest of the day; the rub was getting us to ATL. We scored the last 3 seats on the 2:00 flight. We were booked on a 6:00PM to STT. We'd be landing at 10:00.
Shit.
Dejected, tired, and sad, we gathered out wits. It was now about 7:30 and we had 6 1/2 hours to kill. We did the only reasonable thing; got our bags and went home. We were home a little after 8:00AM.
We unpacked the cooler and I went to work. I needed help. I was ready to give up and just go back to bed and abandon the trip. Why? Because, as we all know, getting to St John is not easy. A planned 10:00 arrival meant we'd be traveling across St Thomas at late o'clock. But, as always, the forum came through.
Someone, knowing the times involved, suggested a water taxi to St Thomas. I called the absolutely wonderful people at Dohm's and a wonderful woman, Julie, took care of us. She arranged a cab to get us from the airport to Red Hook and for a water taxi to take us to St John. We were "stowing away" on the taxi, so we had to stop at the Westin first, but we'd get to StJ and would not need an overnight on STT beforehand.
Mind cleared, and at ease, I got us some breakfast and took a nap. We only slept a little bit, but felt better when we woke up. Not great, but not ready to dry heave.
At noon, we set out again. We repacked the cooler and went back to RDU to try again. Check-in was NOT easy (thanks to some crankiness by me and a lot by the desk agent). But, we got in. We had no assigned seats for either flight, but I was told we had seats. Fine.
At the gates, many of the people from the morning flight were still there, sprawled on the floor. They were stuck. We got seats and got on our plane. We were on a small regional jet and in the last row...but we were on a plane. The flight to ATL was odd; we flew in circles for a while (Naturally, right before we left, the radar at ATL died...so they needed to get it running and unstuck the planes).
I guess we got to ATL, but I don't really remember anything. We were all running on fumes. We found our gate and confirmed that we had seats. I think we fed TheKid at some point. I honestly can't remember. **S reminded me that we bought TheKid a burger and then I vanished for a long while looking for a sandwich that didn't look 5 days old. I seem to remember that. I was so exhausted, she could have told me anything**
I do recall boarding and being in bulkhead seats. I hate them. But, we had room overhead for our bags and unpacked what we needed for the flight. In a life-saving move, Delta seems to have outfitted their 737's with seat back TV's. So, TheKid was kept amused for the 4 hour flight. She watched one show or movie after another. I got her to sleep a little before we landed. The flight dragged and was rather bumpy. But, finally, 10:00 came and we landed.
Who the hell chooses to arrive this late? Really? On a Saturday? It's the middle of the damn night.
It was dark, steamy and more unpleasant than usual. Fortunately, our driver from Christopher's Taxi was right there waiting for us. So were the rum ladies. I was told that it would take 25 minutes to get the bags. So, I waited and watched the clock. At 10:27, the bags arrived. It's good to have the right info from the right people.
We got in the taxi and took off for Red Hook. Did I mention it was late? We cruised along the harbor in Charlotte Amalie. It's odd to take that route; usually the traffic in town sucks. But, at 10:40PM...that's another story. TheKid did not enjoy the ride and was looking a little green. (Keep this in mind). But, as we got close to Red Hook, we pulled down this tiny dirt road.
Here we go. Since the driver knows my phone is dead (Verizon was not working on Saturday night), he's taken us in to the woods to murder and then rape us. Great...
Nope...we pulled into a clearing and found a little boat slip. There, waiting for us was a boat named "Water Taxi". At least it's honest about what it does for a living.
It was 11:05. We'd missed the 11:00 ferry. So, had I not made the boat arrangements, we'd have sat in the ferry terminal for a full hour. That would have been unpleasant and probably not entirely safe, considering that we'd all be half asleep. Since my phone was not working, I had to borrow the captain's phone. C and T had no idea where we were. I called to tell T to be in town in 20 minutes; we were coming!
The plan was to wait for the Westin people to arrive and then motor over to St John. They'd get dropped off and then we'd go to Cruz Bay. They could not let us off at the Westin, mere minutes from the house because of some Homeland Security bullshit. In any event, it would be OK.
But it got better. The captain, I think in a combination of pity and good-heartedness, got us on board and told us he'd run us over before the Westin people arrived. Off we went. We sped out of Red Hook and into the channel. But...we didn't take the marked channel...we went off to the left side. This, apparently, was to avoid waves. We bounced along and the horseshoe of light ahead of us got brighter and brighter. We were getting closer and closer to the end of the journey. As we approached, we could start to make out landmarks and the excitement built. TheKid was green.
Crossing at night was odd. It was...as you'd expect...dark. It was very different. It was fun to do but I'd not want to do it again. There were very few boats in the channel. Mostly, it was us, skipping along the waves.
We slowed down as we got into Cruz Bay and, immediately I noticed the folly of my ways. We were not headed towards the main dock...why would we? You can't tie a little taxi boat to the big dock. No...we were headed to the NPS dock. That was fine...if I had a way to call T to divert him. Alas, I did not. We docked, did the money deal (It had now cost us $225 to get to St John instead of about $50) and headed out on foot for the big dock.
It's not much of a walk, but we had 3 backpacks and 3 pieces of luggage. It was also 11:30 and I had 2 women with me. We walked quickly. We passed Uncle Joes, rounded the corner and came to the little street in front of the dock. As we got to the benches, T pulled up. Our Knight in his Trusty White Jeep Liberty had arrived.
Hug Hug. Kiss Kiss. Let's get the hell out of here!
Through the new traffic circle! Up Jacob's Ladder. Down Great Cruz Bay Road. Up the VERY Steep driveway...to Morgan Point.
We stumbled into the house at a little before Midnight. We were gassed, but so grateful to be there and not in a hotel on St Thomas. I unpacked the cooler, got some clothes unpacked and had a beer. TheKid had some juice and we recounted our traveling tale. At about 1:00, we all stumbled off to bed. It was late, but we'd arrived. We could start vacationing.
4:30AM: BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP. Here we go. It's vacation time. Shockingly, we'd slept fairly well the night before. Chicken was at her grandparents' house and we just needed to pack the cooler and go.
5:25: We pulled out of the house. The cooler came in at 47lbs. We had a 7:10 flight to ATL and then a 10:00 to STT. We were hoping against hope to be on a 3:00 ferry to St John.
Check in was not bad and we got through security with plenty of time to spare. We were settled and at the gate by 6:15 or so. In retrospect, a lot of things look clearer now. At the time, I was sleepy and already working on getting to Island Time.
6:50: Why aren't we boarding?
"We're sorry folks, but there's a delay with your flight attendants getting here. We're not sure where they are right now, so we'll be a little late"
At this point, I should have flown into action. I failed to do so and suffered the consequences...
I felt confident that, even with a minor delay, we'd be OK to make the next flight.
7:00: We're sorry folks. Your flight will be delayed until 11:00.
WHAT?!?!?!?!
Now I was in motion. I checked the board and noticed an 8:20 flight to ATL. I sent S to that gate to see if they had seats. I started dialing Delta "We're sorry...due to call volumes, please try back later". SHIT!!!!! I called my father and got him on the search for new flights. I had all the connection times out of ATL, and was ticking them off in my head, and dreading each one more and more.
Finally, I got through to Delta. They told me there was no flight at 11:00; we'd been cancelled. They failed to tell anyone that. I was informed that there were plenty of seats from ATL to STT for the rest of the day; the rub was getting us to ATL. We scored the last 3 seats on the 2:00 flight. We were booked on a 6:00PM to STT. We'd be landing at 10:00.
Shit.
Dejected, tired, and sad, we gathered out wits. It was now about 7:30 and we had 6 1/2 hours to kill. We did the only reasonable thing; got our bags and went home. We were home a little after 8:00AM.
We unpacked the cooler and I went to work. I needed help. I was ready to give up and just go back to bed and abandon the trip. Why? Because, as we all know, getting to St John is not easy. A planned 10:00 arrival meant we'd be traveling across St Thomas at late o'clock. But, as always, the forum came through.
Someone, knowing the times involved, suggested a water taxi to St Thomas. I called the absolutely wonderful people at Dohm's and a wonderful woman, Julie, took care of us. She arranged a cab to get us from the airport to Red Hook and for a water taxi to take us to St John. We were "stowing away" on the taxi, so we had to stop at the Westin first, but we'd get to StJ and would not need an overnight on STT beforehand.
Mind cleared, and at ease, I got us some breakfast and took a nap. We only slept a little bit, but felt better when we woke up. Not great, but not ready to dry heave.
At noon, we set out again. We repacked the cooler and went back to RDU to try again. Check-in was NOT easy (thanks to some crankiness by me and a lot by the desk agent). But, we got in. We had no assigned seats for either flight, but I was told we had seats. Fine.
At the gates, many of the people from the morning flight were still there, sprawled on the floor. They were stuck. We got seats and got on our plane. We were on a small regional jet and in the last row...but we were on a plane. The flight to ATL was odd; we flew in circles for a while (Naturally, right before we left, the radar at ATL died...so they needed to get it running and unstuck the planes).
I guess we got to ATL, but I don't really remember anything. We were all running on fumes. We found our gate and confirmed that we had seats. I think we fed TheKid at some point. I honestly can't remember. **S reminded me that we bought TheKid a burger and then I vanished for a long while looking for a sandwich that didn't look 5 days old. I seem to remember that. I was so exhausted, she could have told me anything**
I do recall boarding and being in bulkhead seats. I hate them. But, we had room overhead for our bags and unpacked what we needed for the flight. In a life-saving move, Delta seems to have outfitted their 737's with seat back TV's. So, TheKid was kept amused for the 4 hour flight. She watched one show or movie after another. I got her to sleep a little before we landed. The flight dragged and was rather bumpy. But, finally, 10:00 came and we landed.
Who the hell chooses to arrive this late? Really? On a Saturday? It's the middle of the damn night.
It was dark, steamy and more unpleasant than usual. Fortunately, our driver from Christopher's Taxi was right there waiting for us. So were the rum ladies. I was told that it would take 25 minutes to get the bags. So, I waited and watched the clock. At 10:27, the bags arrived. It's good to have the right info from the right people.
We got in the taxi and took off for Red Hook. Did I mention it was late? We cruised along the harbor in Charlotte Amalie. It's odd to take that route; usually the traffic in town sucks. But, at 10:40PM...that's another story. TheKid did not enjoy the ride and was looking a little green. (Keep this in mind). But, as we got close to Red Hook, we pulled down this tiny dirt road.
Here we go. Since the driver knows my phone is dead (Verizon was not working on Saturday night), he's taken us in to the woods to murder and then rape us. Great...
Nope...we pulled into a clearing and found a little boat slip. There, waiting for us was a boat named "Water Taxi". At least it's honest about what it does for a living.
It was 11:05. We'd missed the 11:00 ferry. So, had I not made the boat arrangements, we'd have sat in the ferry terminal for a full hour. That would have been unpleasant and probably not entirely safe, considering that we'd all be half asleep. Since my phone was not working, I had to borrow the captain's phone. C and T had no idea where we were. I called to tell T to be in town in 20 minutes; we were coming!
The plan was to wait for the Westin people to arrive and then motor over to St John. They'd get dropped off and then we'd go to Cruz Bay. They could not let us off at the Westin, mere minutes from the house because of some Homeland Security bullshit. In any event, it would be OK.
But it got better. The captain, I think in a combination of pity and good-heartedness, got us on board and told us he'd run us over before the Westin people arrived. Off we went. We sped out of Red Hook and into the channel. But...we didn't take the marked channel...we went off to the left side. This, apparently, was to avoid waves. We bounced along and the horseshoe of light ahead of us got brighter and brighter. We were getting closer and closer to the end of the journey. As we approached, we could start to make out landmarks and the excitement built. TheKid was green.
Crossing at night was odd. It was...as you'd expect...dark. It was very different. It was fun to do but I'd not want to do it again. There were very few boats in the channel. Mostly, it was us, skipping along the waves.
We slowed down as we got into Cruz Bay and, immediately I noticed the folly of my ways. We were not headed towards the main dock...why would we? You can't tie a little taxi boat to the big dock. No...we were headed to the NPS dock. That was fine...if I had a way to call T to divert him. Alas, I did not. We docked, did the money deal (It had now cost us $225 to get to St John instead of about $50) and headed out on foot for the big dock.
It's not much of a walk, but we had 3 backpacks and 3 pieces of luggage. It was also 11:30 and I had 2 women with me. We walked quickly. We passed Uncle Joes, rounded the corner and came to the little street in front of the dock. As we got to the benches, T pulled up. Our Knight in his Trusty White Jeep Liberty had arrived.
Hug Hug. Kiss Kiss. Let's get the hell out of here!
Through the new traffic circle! Up Jacob's Ladder. Down Great Cruz Bay Road. Up the VERY Steep driveway...to Morgan Point.
We stumbled into the house at a little before Midnight. We were gassed, but so grateful to be there and not in a hotel on St Thomas. I unpacked the cooler, got some clothes unpacked and had a beer. TheKid had some juice and we recounted our traveling tale. At about 1:00, we all stumbled off to bed. It was late, but we'd arrived. We could start vacationing.
Sunday July 25
I had started waking up at about 5:30. Lord knows why. The room was comfortable, but it was already light out. By 7:30, both S and I were awake. Rather than pretend to sleep, we decided to get up and see where we were.
Naturally, TheKid had figured out the remotes and was sitting slack-jawed in front of the TV. She'd been up for a little while and had found Nickelodeon or something. Only an 8-year old can sit next to the view we had and watch iCarly. I started the coffee and stepped out the kitchen door to the deck.
Oh yea...it was good to be back.
The house overlooked Great Cruz Bay. The Westin was below us to the right and the mouth of the bay was to the left. Between the 2 sat a flotilla of sailboats. I grabbed TheKid and implored her to come outside for a look.
"Oh look. A boat! Look! Another boat! There's a boat!"
"You may want to slow down. You're gonna be tired soon at that rate"
Dinghies and charter boats were going back and forth in front of us. Things were looking good...literally and figuratively. S appeared and I fixed her some tea. We sat down and stared out at our little island. I can't tell you all how happy we were that we'd decided to go the water taxi route. If I'd been forced to wake up on St Thomas, it would have been a very sad day. Saturday had been a very long day and we both knew the lack of sleep would kick our asses later in the afternoon, but, man, was it ever great to be on St John.
Because we had missed out on the traditional Saturday dinner of cold cuts and cheeses, I fixed S and I a nice Euro-breakfast. I cut up some smoked Gouda, some nice salami and some bread I'd brought along. We enjoyed breakfast in the sun and continued our efforts to unfold into vacation.
T got up a little while later and joined us, coffee in hand, on the deck. C, naturally, followed about 8 hours later. She likes to sleep.
Awake and fed, it was time to set out for the day. I needed to get TheKid away from the TV. I decided that a nice walk would help wake me up and get her moving. We descended the ridiculous driveway and hit the road. I wanted her to learn 2 lessons: the roads are hilly and it gets hot. The latter because I wanted her to appreciate just how hot it could get and hopefully (albeit unsuccessfully) teach her a lesson about hydration. We made a left and headed out towards Maria Bluff. We went up the hill and got to where all the funny little roads meet. Not quite knowing where I was, we headed back...hot and sweaty. It was about 9:00.
TheKid babbled at me the whole time about the plants and lizards and bugs and rocks and...you know...
Back at the house, I consulted the fridge to see what C and T had picked up the night before and what I still needed. List in hand, T, TheKid and I set out. As the week continued, any time the 3 of us were out and about, I had visions of what we must have looked like. Perhaps a non-traditional family. T and I should have held hands more...
We went into town to see the Sutton's and to get me on the rental agreement. Any description of them is spot-on. They're a tad gruff. But the car worked and the location (and parking) could not be beaten. TheKid was already pissy about having to run errands, so I decided to take her on a loop through town before we went to the store(s). We went to St John Spice, hoping to see Ruth, but she was involved in hard labor at The Shed. I picked up some items and we walked down to the beach. TheKid did her Ocean Jedi Mind Trick on the water. We swung through The Beach Bar and walked past the "Vegas Excitement and Action" of The Parrot Club. Those aren't my words; that's what the brochure at the airport says...
It was grocery time. I had been advised to try the Pine Peace Market for this trip. We did...I'd advise against doing so on a Sunday morning. There was barely anything in the produce area. We picked u pa few things and then headed back down the road to Starfish. We got a few more items, but realized we were now 0-2 in finding hot dog buns. The lettuce and carrots, much to my surprise, were very reasonably priced. Other produce was pricey but not horribly so. Back in the Jeep...we went to the new St John Market. I immediately regretted buying those potatoes at starfish. I could have saved about half by buying them at the new market. But, I got a few more items and, again, did not see hot dog buns. We picked up some sub rolls and asked the cashier about the buns. Apparently, the island had run out.
Note to people reading this who have not been to St John: If you cannot handle an island that may, on occasion, run out of hot dog rolls, please stay on St Thomas. St John may not be for you.
We went back to the house and TheKid immediately hit the pool. I had a dip and then fixed our hot dog sandwiches for lunch. Cold Carib, grilled Nathan's dogs, Pirates Gold hot sauce...a lunch fit for royalty. The 5 of us settled in down at the pool and just hung for a while. TheKid swam about 7000 laps around the "Wally Pool" that the house has. The pool was small, but functional.
As the afternoon went on, we moved out of the sun and back to the covered deck off the back of the house. We didn't have many plans other than to be at The Beach Bar between 5-6. There was a party and, as much as I wanted to think that I was the Guest of Honor, TheKid was.
Keeping tradition, we piled into the Jeep at about 3:30 and headed out for Trunk Bay. It's always been our first day snorkel. You know you'll see better things at other beaches, but Trunk is Trunk and you might as well start with the Grand Dame of the St John National Park beaches.
We got there, geared up and put TheKid in the water. Now...I know the kid can swim like a fish. I also know she's used her snorkel about a million times in the pool, but this was her first time in the ocean. Frankly, I didn't know what to expect. ZOOM! She was off. No fins...just her feet...she was gone in a flash. I led us to the "trail head" and waited for the rest of the group to catch up. All the while, there was constant...and I mean CONSTANT, chatter coming from TheKid's snorkel. In general, she never shuts up. Having a snorkel in her mouth did nothing to stop her. I only wish we could have taken a picture of the words that were spewing forth from her.
"Oh Look! A Fish! Oh Look! Another fish! Look! A fish! Lalalala...a fish! Deedeedeedee...a fish! Buffalo Soldier, dreadlocked...a FISH! AN URCHIN!!! A fish a fish a fish!"
She was doing OK.
We stayed in the water for about an hour. I tried out my rigged-up underwater camera. I had bought a dry bag and was holding my little camera up to the plastic. I would later find out that I was not doing it right. I got better as the week progressed though. We swam around the other side of the rock, hoping to find the barracuda that live there, but they were all MIA. It was Ok. We'd done our first snorkel and all had gone well.
Back to town we went. As we rounded the band at the Fish Trap, there were 2 horribly rude and annoying people in the middle of the road. Typical jackass tourists...cameras over shoulders...just horrid people. SO, I did the only thing I could think to do:
"Get the hell out of the road!"
Said tourists had a moment of shock and anger flash across their faces...until they noticed that the asshole driving the jeep was me. Hi Pam and Bill. Nice to meetcha! We parked, Mr. Sutton scolded me about the keys, and we hit the Beach Bar.
There was already a bunch of forumites there and, celebrity that I am, I was mobbed. It's hard to be me sometimes. We saw Ruth and she was introduced to TheKid. Many hugs followed. These get togethers are so much fun. You "meet" these people on line and when you can finally meet them face to face, there's no better place than on a Caribbean beach. We had some beer and talked to everyone. It was odd introducing my posse to everyone. I didn't realize just how many people read my writings. So, T, C and S were introduced as they are known to the world. Their real names followed. TheKid immediately made some friends and was swimming in Cruz Bay (Eeeww??) and swinging from a rope.
By 7:00 I was pulled away from the party to go cook dinner.
S has made macaroni salad earlier in the day. While she fixed a salad, I grilled up a ton and a half of chicken. We dined al-fresco on the deck as the sun set off to our left.
Yea...life can be good sometimes.
At about 8:00, TheKid was done eating.
Can I watch TV?
Sure...
Can I have a pillow and blanket?
Sure...
20 minutes later, she was zonked out. She'd been up for nearly 20 hours on Saturday and 14 on Sunday. Crash went the kid. At about 9:00, I picked her up and carried her to her room. She reported waking up very confused later in the evening, having no idea how she'd gotten to her room.
S, T and I, rather foolishly, stayed up until about 1:00. T put it best when he said "It's a waste of a beautiful night to go to bed"
He was right.
The trouble of Saturday was behind us and we were on Island Time.
I had started waking up at about 5:30. Lord knows why. The room was comfortable, but it was already light out. By 7:30, both S and I were awake. Rather than pretend to sleep, we decided to get up and see where we were.
Naturally, TheKid had figured out the remotes and was sitting slack-jawed in front of the TV. She'd been up for a little while and had found Nickelodeon or something. Only an 8-year old can sit next to the view we had and watch iCarly. I started the coffee and stepped out the kitchen door to the deck.
Oh yea...it was good to be back.
The house overlooked Great Cruz Bay. The Westin was below us to the right and the mouth of the bay was to the left. Between the 2 sat a flotilla of sailboats. I grabbed TheKid and implored her to come outside for a look.
"Oh look. A boat! Look! Another boat! There's a boat!"
"You may want to slow down. You're gonna be tired soon at that rate"
Dinghies and charter boats were going back and forth in front of us. Things were looking good...literally and figuratively. S appeared and I fixed her some tea. We sat down and stared out at our little island. I can't tell you all how happy we were that we'd decided to go the water taxi route. If I'd been forced to wake up on St Thomas, it would have been a very sad day. Saturday had been a very long day and we both knew the lack of sleep would kick our asses later in the afternoon, but, man, was it ever great to be on St John.
Because we had missed out on the traditional Saturday dinner of cold cuts and cheeses, I fixed S and I a nice Euro-breakfast. I cut up some smoked Gouda, some nice salami and some bread I'd brought along. We enjoyed breakfast in the sun and continued our efforts to unfold into vacation.
T got up a little while later and joined us, coffee in hand, on the deck. C, naturally, followed about 8 hours later. She likes to sleep.
Awake and fed, it was time to set out for the day. I needed to get TheKid away from the TV. I decided that a nice walk would help wake me up and get her moving. We descended the ridiculous driveway and hit the road. I wanted her to learn 2 lessons: the roads are hilly and it gets hot. The latter because I wanted her to appreciate just how hot it could get and hopefully (albeit unsuccessfully) teach her a lesson about hydration. We made a left and headed out towards Maria Bluff. We went up the hill and got to where all the funny little roads meet. Not quite knowing where I was, we headed back...hot and sweaty. It was about 9:00.
TheKid babbled at me the whole time about the plants and lizards and bugs and rocks and...you know...
Back at the house, I consulted the fridge to see what C and T had picked up the night before and what I still needed. List in hand, T, TheKid and I set out. As the week continued, any time the 3 of us were out and about, I had visions of what we must have looked like. Perhaps a non-traditional family. T and I should have held hands more...
We went into town to see the Sutton's and to get me on the rental agreement. Any description of them is spot-on. They're a tad gruff. But the car worked and the location (and parking) could not be beaten. TheKid was already pissy about having to run errands, so I decided to take her on a loop through town before we went to the store(s). We went to St John Spice, hoping to see Ruth, but she was involved in hard labor at The Shed. I picked up some items and we walked down to the beach. TheKid did her Ocean Jedi Mind Trick on the water. We swung through The Beach Bar and walked past the "Vegas Excitement and Action" of The Parrot Club. Those aren't my words; that's what the brochure at the airport says...
It was grocery time. I had been advised to try the Pine Peace Market for this trip. We did...I'd advise against doing so on a Sunday morning. There was barely anything in the produce area. We picked u pa few things and then headed back down the road to Starfish. We got a few more items, but realized we were now 0-2 in finding hot dog buns. The lettuce and carrots, much to my surprise, were very reasonably priced. Other produce was pricey but not horribly so. Back in the Jeep...we went to the new St John Market. I immediately regretted buying those potatoes at starfish. I could have saved about half by buying them at the new market. But, I got a few more items and, again, did not see hot dog buns. We picked up some sub rolls and asked the cashier about the buns. Apparently, the island had run out.
Note to people reading this who have not been to St John: If you cannot handle an island that may, on occasion, run out of hot dog rolls, please stay on St Thomas. St John may not be for you.
We went back to the house and TheKid immediately hit the pool. I had a dip and then fixed our hot dog sandwiches for lunch. Cold Carib, grilled Nathan's dogs, Pirates Gold hot sauce...a lunch fit for royalty. The 5 of us settled in down at the pool and just hung for a while. TheKid swam about 7000 laps around the "Wally Pool" that the house has. The pool was small, but functional.
As the afternoon went on, we moved out of the sun and back to the covered deck off the back of the house. We didn't have many plans other than to be at The Beach Bar between 5-6. There was a party and, as much as I wanted to think that I was the Guest of Honor, TheKid was.
Keeping tradition, we piled into the Jeep at about 3:30 and headed out for Trunk Bay. It's always been our first day snorkel. You know you'll see better things at other beaches, but Trunk is Trunk and you might as well start with the Grand Dame of the St John National Park beaches.
We got there, geared up and put TheKid in the water. Now...I know the kid can swim like a fish. I also know she's used her snorkel about a million times in the pool, but this was her first time in the ocean. Frankly, I didn't know what to expect. ZOOM! She was off. No fins...just her feet...she was gone in a flash. I led us to the "trail head" and waited for the rest of the group to catch up. All the while, there was constant...and I mean CONSTANT, chatter coming from TheKid's snorkel. In general, she never shuts up. Having a snorkel in her mouth did nothing to stop her. I only wish we could have taken a picture of the words that were spewing forth from her.
"Oh Look! A Fish! Oh Look! Another fish! Look! A fish! Lalalala...a fish! Deedeedeedee...a fish! Buffalo Soldier, dreadlocked...a FISH! AN URCHIN!!! A fish a fish a fish!"
She was doing OK.
We stayed in the water for about an hour. I tried out my rigged-up underwater camera. I had bought a dry bag and was holding my little camera up to the plastic. I would later find out that I was not doing it right. I got better as the week progressed though. We swam around the other side of the rock, hoping to find the barracuda that live there, but they were all MIA. It was Ok. We'd done our first snorkel and all had gone well.
Back to town we went. As we rounded the band at the Fish Trap, there were 2 horribly rude and annoying people in the middle of the road. Typical jackass tourists...cameras over shoulders...just horrid people. SO, I did the only thing I could think to do:
"Get the hell out of the road!"
Said tourists had a moment of shock and anger flash across their faces...until they noticed that the asshole driving the jeep was me. Hi Pam and Bill. Nice to meetcha! We parked, Mr. Sutton scolded me about the keys, and we hit the Beach Bar.
There was already a bunch of forumites there and, celebrity that I am, I was mobbed. It's hard to be me sometimes. We saw Ruth and she was introduced to TheKid. Many hugs followed. These get togethers are so much fun. You "meet" these people on line and when you can finally meet them face to face, there's no better place than on a Caribbean beach. We had some beer and talked to everyone. It was odd introducing my posse to everyone. I didn't realize just how many people read my writings. So, T, C and S were introduced as they are known to the world. Their real names followed. TheKid immediately made some friends and was swimming in Cruz Bay (Eeeww??) and swinging from a rope.
By 7:00 I was pulled away from the party to go cook dinner.
S has made macaroni salad earlier in the day. While she fixed a salad, I grilled up a ton and a half of chicken. We dined al-fresco on the deck as the sun set off to our left.
Yea...life can be good sometimes.
At about 8:00, TheKid was done eating.
Can I watch TV?
Sure...
Can I have a pillow and blanket?
Sure...
20 minutes later, she was zonked out. She'd been up for nearly 20 hours on Saturday and 14 on Sunday. Crash went the kid. At about 9:00, I picked her up and carried her to her room. She reported waking up very confused later in the evening, having no idea how she'd gotten to her room.
S, T and I, rather foolishly, stayed up until about 1:00. T put it best when he said "It's a waste of a beautiful night to go to bed"
He was right.
The trouble of Saturday was behind us and we were on Island Time.
Last edited by pipanale on Tue Aug 10, 2010 8:41 am, edited 1 time in total.
Monday July 26.
Someone served me about half a drink too much the night before. I woke up feeling shiny. 3 Advil later, I was ready to go. TheKid was in front of the TV. What a shock.
The plan for Monday had been to get up early and head to the East End and Salt Pond Bay. TheKid really wanted to go to Drunk Bay to "make a rock person". However, we learned at the BB that the path was washed out. The rains the week before had raised the water level of the pond enough to cover the path. So...no East end hike for us.
Needing to move, I gathered TheKid for another walk. We went back up the hill past the house, but this time, continued out Maria bluff road. Next thing I knew, we were rapidly descending an unpaved road towards Chocolate Hole. Great job, Dad. You've started a death march! TheKid was happy, but getting tired. However, when we got to the end of the road, I knew exactly where we were...and the news was bad. We were back on Great Cruz Bay Road (good news). We were 2 hills away (plus the driveway) from the house (bad news). It was hot. We started up the road. Any attempts on my part to point out trees or boats or anything of interest were met with complaints. Someone wanted to be carried. I told her I'd leave her on the aide of the road and maybe an iguana would drive her home. We finally got to the house and collapsed. She was tired...so was I. The gang was up and wondering what we'd been thinking. TheKid didn't have the energy to complain...she just parked in front of the TV again.
We spent the late morning at the house...swimming, sunning, drinking, burping, cursing, "Your Assing", drinking...typical vacation stuff for us.
I talk to people all the time about how they spend their vacation days on St John. Everyone does it differently, and it's fun to hear someone else's ideal day and turn my nose up at it. We're not necessarily beach people. I know...go to an island and you don't like the beach. I can spend the day on a beach, but not on St John. Take Emerald Isle...I can sit there all day and read and swim when needed. But it's too damned hot down island to sit in the sun all day. And, since there's so much to see in the water, I'm not inclined to sit on a Caribbean beach...but I'm also not in the mood to snorkel for 8 hours and fry myself crisp. So, most days are spent by the pool, hanging out and having fun. We head to the beach to snorkel later in the day. I may arrange some activity in the morning, but most days are spent housebound. It's just how we roll.
By mid-afternoon, it was time to muster the troops. Later in the week, I realized that my strategy was all off. Moving 3 "Island Time" adults and an 8 year old takes a lot of coordination. The simple act of me loading the snorkel gear, cooler and towels into the Jeep wasn't enough. Grabbing the keys and tapping my foot only made them move more slowly. I finally figured that if I told them I wanted to leave at a certain time, and padded in a half hour, I could ALMOST get what I wanted. It usually took 45 minutes to get everyone moving. Later in the week, I could get the troops to move more or less on time.
Since it was Monday and S hadn't seen anything in town yet, we decided to go to town before the daily snorkel. We stopped at St John Spice again, Freebird, Low Key, all the usual suspects. With T and TheKid twitching, we went back to the Jeep to go snorkeling.
Since 2004, when I first saw the funny little staircase to nowhere, I wanted to go to Jumbie beach. But, stairs and my crew don't get along. So, I drive past the staircase a few dozen times, waiting for the day when TheKid would join us. I knew I could get her down the stairs. In a move that both saddened and pleased me, the park service (or someone) ripped out the stairs about a year ago and created a trail. I never got to take the stairs, but I knew I could get to Jumbie. We found a spot in the little parking lot...there are 5 spots in total for the beach, and crossed the road. The little path ran through the woods and gently sloped down over a distance of only about 100 yards. That was a walk C could handle. Plus...I promised good snorkeling.
We arrived at the little beach and I was thrilled. It sits one bay over from Trunk Bay, but it might as well be 100 miles away. There were maybe 10 other people on the beach. The entry was a bit rocky, but TheKid and I got in the water and began our snorkel Recon. There was a bit of a current, so it was rough going at first. But, once we got to the first reef, we were able to more or less float along its length and traverse the whole bay. The sights were better than at Trunk and we saw some cool fish. I got better at taking underwater pictures and managed some good shots. TheKid, as expected, babbled away the whole time we were in the water. We spent over an hour in the water, and by the time we were done, we were all waterlogged and ready for beer. We pried TheKid out of the water and fought the mosquitoes as we dried off.
It was time to go back to town and to go to JJ's. After the 2008 trip, we were looking forward to returning to our favorite bar.
Funny thing about memories...they can look better in your mind than in reality....
BOM...BOM...BOM...
Well, "our waitress" moved off island in 2009. We were hoping to break in someone new and have it go well. At the new, HUGE, sign they have, we finally looked at the menu.
"Have conch fritters always been $11? What the hell?"
We sat (our usual table was occupied) and ordered up the customary 4 Caribs. TheKid got a pina colada. We toasted our trip and all drank lustily. There's something about a Carib. You can NOT drink them in the states. They taste like warm ass. But, sit down in the islands, hot and salty after a good snorkel, and they taste like heaven. The fritters and onion rings arrived...
"Um...hon? Didn't we used to get 6?"
(She studies the plate)
"Yea...what the hell?"
Less food...more money. Welcome to a bad economy? Seriously?
No matter...we ate happily and savored the moment. We were back at our bar, in the middle of the silly little town of Cruz Bay. The crazies were in the park, the chickens were wandering around, and the "tourists" were arriving for dinner.
Tourists you say? Yea...we're not tourists. Not on St John at least. We're visitors. There's a difference, and a lot of people reading this are nodding right now. Tourists show up in sneakers and socks. They wear matching clothes. The women look made up and put together.
Visitors look like locals. We were flip flops. Our shorts are raggedy-ass looking. The shirts more or less match the shorts. The women wear hats and ponytails.
So, we're sitting there and Vinnie Baggadonuts from Montclair shows up. He's got on a muscle shirt and is strutting about. His son is orange. The daughter has on a little dress and is texting. Wifey is also orange, she's got gold dripping off of her, and she's got on gold sandals. They walk past us 5 homeless people and sneer. "Go the hell back to Jersey...or at least St Thomas". They sit and Dad orders a Milluh Light. Mom asks about the wine list.
We weep.
"Lookat dis. They got conch frittuhs. (Conch pronounced with a "ch" and not a "K") Let's get some"
"Oh Vinnie...they're fried. I'm on a diet"
Mom and daughter order garden salads, Vinnie orders a burger...well done...and Junior orders the menu. I find myself wanting to walk over to them, in all my salt-crusted funk, and set them straight.
Leave the designer threads at home. You do not impress anyone.
Lighten up and order a Caribbean beer. Carib not your thing? Order a Presendente.
Buy flip flops.
Untuck the shirts.
Leave the Jersey in Newark.
Get your asses on Island Time for the love of God.
We finish up and the bill comes. T pays it. 2 minutes later, the waitress throws the bill back at us.
"You underpaid. That was the bar bill"
C flips the bill and chokes. Beers apparently now cost $4.50 each at JJ's. Ouch. The shine on JJ's just got a little less shiny.
Earlier in the day, S had made potato salad. Monday, originally, was meant to be steak night. It would have been...had I remembered to thaw the steaks. Whoops...time to slice leftover chicken. I laid out way too much food and we all took showers and snacked.
Bed time came a little earlier on Monday. We spent the evening on the deck, watching the stars. We'd been on the island for a little under 2 full days. We'd snorkeled twice, been to 2 bars and were having a great trip.
Someone served me about half a drink too much the night before. I woke up feeling shiny. 3 Advil later, I was ready to go. TheKid was in front of the TV. What a shock.
The plan for Monday had been to get up early and head to the East End and Salt Pond Bay. TheKid really wanted to go to Drunk Bay to "make a rock person". However, we learned at the BB that the path was washed out. The rains the week before had raised the water level of the pond enough to cover the path. So...no East end hike for us.
Needing to move, I gathered TheKid for another walk. We went back up the hill past the house, but this time, continued out Maria bluff road. Next thing I knew, we were rapidly descending an unpaved road towards Chocolate Hole. Great job, Dad. You've started a death march! TheKid was happy, but getting tired. However, when we got to the end of the road, I knew exactly where we were...and the news was bad. We were back on Great Cruz Bay Road (good news). We were 2 hills away (plus the driveway) from the house (bad news). It was hot. We started up the road. Any attempts on my part to point out trees or boats or anything of interest were met with complaints. Someone wanted to be carried. I told her I'd leave her on the aide of the road and maybe an iguana would drive her home. We finally got to the house and collapsed. She was tired...so was I. The gang was up and wondering what we'd been thinking. TheKid didn't have the energy to complain...she just parked in front of the TV again.
We spent the late morning at the house...swimming, sunning, drinking, burping, cursing, "Your Assing", drinking...typical vacation stuff for us.
I talk to people all the time about how they spend their vacation days on St John. Everyone does it differently, and it's fun to hear someone else's ideal day and turn my nose up at it. We're not necessarily beach people. I know...go to an island and you don't like the beach. I can spend the day on a beach, but not on St John. Take Emerald Isle...I can sit there all day and read and swim when needed. But it's too damned hot down island to sit in the sun all day. And, since there's so much to see in the water, I'm not inclined to sit on a Caribbean beach...but I'm also not in the mood to snorkel for 8 hours and fry myself crisp. So, most days are spent by the pool, hanging out and having fun. We head to the beach to snorkel later in the day. I may arrange some activity in the morning, but most days are spent housebound. It's just how we roll.
By mid-afternoon, it was time to muster the troops. Later in the week, I realized that my strategy was all off. Moving 3 "Island Time" adults and an 8 year old takes a lot of coordination. The simple act of me loading the snorkel gear, cooler and towels into the Jeep wasn't enough. Grabbing the keys and tapping my foot only made them move more slowly. I finally figured that if I told them I wanted to leave at a certain time, and padded in a half hour, I could ALMOST get what I wanted. It usually took 45 minutes to get everyone moving. Later in the week, I could get the troops to move more or less on time.
Since it was Monday and S hadn't seen anything in town yet, we decided to go to town before the daily snorkel. We stopped at St John Spice again, Freebird, Low Key, all the usual suspects. With T and TheKid twitching, we went back to the Jeep to go snorkeling.
Since 2004, when I first saw the funny little staircase to nowhere, I wanted to go to Jumbie beach. But, stairs and my crew don't get along. So, I drive past the staircase a few dozen times, waiting for the day when TheKid would join us. I knew I could get her down the stairs. In a move that both saddened and pleased me, the park service (or someone) ripped out the stairs about a year ago and created a trail. I never got to take the stairs, but I knew I could get to Jumbie. We found a spot in the little parking lot...there are 5 spots in total for the beach, and crossed the road. The little path ran through the woods and gently sloped down over a distance of only about 100 yards. That was a walk C could handle. Plus...I promised good snorkeling.
We arrived at the little beach and I was thrilled. It sits one bay over from Trunk Bay, but it might as well be 100 miles away. There were maybe 10 other people on the beach. The entry was a bit rocky, but TheKid and I got in the water and began our snorkel Recon. There was a bit of a current, so it was rough going at first. But, once we got to the first reef, we were able to more or less float along its length and traverse the whole bay. The sights were better than at Trunk and we saw some cool fish. I got better at taking underwater pictures and managed some good shots. TheKid, as expected, babbled away the whole time we were in the water. We spent over an hour in the water, and by the time we were done, we were all waterlogged and ready for beer. We pried TheKid out of the water and fought the mosquitoes as we dried off.
It was time to go back to town and to go to JJ's. After the 2008 trip, we were looking forward to returning to our favorite bar.
Funny thing about memories...they can look better in your mind than in reality....
BOM...BOM...BOM...
Well, "our waitress" moved off island in 2009. We were hoping to break in someone new and have it go well. At the new, HUGE, sign they have, we finally looked at the menu.
"Have conch fritters always been $11? What the hell?"
We sat (our usual table was occupied) and ordered up the customary 4 Caribs. TheKid got a pina colada. We toasted our trip and all drank lustily. There's something about a Carib. You can NOT drink them in the states. They taste like warm ass. But, sit down in the islands, hot and salty after a good snorkel, and they taste like heaven. The fritters and onion rings arrived...
"Um...hon? Didn't we used to get 6?"
(She studies the plate)
"Yea...what the hell?"
Less food...more money. Welcome to a bad economy? Seriously?
No matter...we ate happily and savored the moment. We were back at our bar, in the middle of the silly little town of Cruz Bay. The crazies were in the park, the chickens were wandering around, and the "tourists" were arriving for dinner.
Tourists you say? Yea...we're not tourists. Not on St John at least. We're visitors. There's a difference, and a lot of people reading this are nodding right now. Tourists show up in sneakers and socks. They wear matching clothes. The women look made up and put together.
Visitors look like locals. We were flip flops. Our shorts are raggedy-ass looking. The shirts more or less match the shorts. The women wear hats and ponytails.
So, we're sitting there and Vinnie Baggadonuts from Montclair shows up. He's got on a muscle shirt and is strutting about. His son is orange. The daughter has on a little dress and is texting. Wifey is also orange, she's got gold dripping off of her, and she's got on gold sandals. They walk past us 5 homeless people and sneer. "Go the hell back to Jersey...or at least St Thomas". They sit and Dad orders a Milluh Light. Mom asks about the wine list.
We weep.
"Lookat dis. They got conch frittuhs. (Conch pronounced with a "ch" and not a "K") Let's get some"
"Oh Vinnie...they're fried. I'm on a diet"
Mom and daughter order garden salads, Vinnie orders a burger...well done...and Junior orders the menu. I find myself wanting to walk over to them, in all my salt-crusted funk, and set them straight.
Leave the designer threads at home. You do not impress anyone.
Lighten up and order a Caribbean beer. Carib not your thing? Order a Presendente.
Buy flip flops.
Untuck the shirts.
Leave the Jersey in Newark.
Get your asses on Island Time for the love of God.
We finish up and the bill comes. T pays it. 2 minutes later, the waitress throws the bill back at us.
"You underpaid. That was the bar bill"
C flips the bill and chokes. Beers apparently now cost $4.50 each at JJ's. Ouch. The shine on JJ's just got a little less shiny.
Earlier in the day, S had made potato salad. Monday, originally, was meant to be steak night. It would have been...had I remembered to thaw the steaks. Whoops...time to slice leftover chicken. I laid out way too much food and we all took showers and snacked.
Bed time came a little earlier on Monday. We spent the evening on the deck, watching the stars. We'd been on the island for a little under 2 full days. We'd snorkeled twice, been to 2 bars and were having a great trip.
Tuesday July 27.
Tuesday has historically been "adventure day" for us and, this year, it was no different. Who we were going out with was never debated; it was a matter of where. I'd contacted Captain Phil on the Wayward Sailor a few months back and inquired about the Jost trip. I really want to go to Jost but it never fits our plans. It's a place I need to check off the list but haven't had time to do. So, I booked the Jost trip on the WS.
Then, I started thinking about it. Then I started fretting about it. I emailed the group and got a collective "We don't give a shit". I fretted some more.
Then I pulled the plug. I booked the 2 snorkel trip. Good decision.
While on board, we were told that the WS makes up to 4.5 knots. Since Jost is 7-8 miles from Cruz Bay, even at top speed and under sail, that's almost 2 hours of sailing. And if the wind didn't cooperate...over 2 hours. So, on a 6-hour trip, we'd spend upwards of 4-5 of them beating into potentially rough seas.
We didn't need to be puking...not just yet.
The trip didn't leave until 10:00, so Her Highness, The Queen of I Don't Give a "F", was able to sleep in.
Nice name, eh?
At some point on the trip, T was taking pictures with his new big-ass camera. In fact, he spent a LOT of time messing around on the deck taking pictures. At one point, he was so happy with his shot that he brought the camera over to his wife to show off the result of his efforts.
Me: You're about to show that picture to The Queen of I Don't Give a "F"? Are you insane?
C: I like that name.
Needless to say, it stuck.
Anyhoo...we got to town a little early and ran into Ruth over at the store. Capt Phil was walking over and re all re-introduced ourselves.
"You're the guy who wrote about the sandwich, aren't you"
Yup...that was me. (Blushes)
Introduction and safety spiel done, we headed to the dinghy for the quick trip out to the boat. It's quite possible that the highlight of TheKid's day was the dinghy ride. She spent the rest of the week pointing out every...single...dinghy we saw (for those who have not visited...there are a LOT).
Onboard, we saw Tarn.
"Hi Tarn"
"You wrote that story, didn't you?"
"Yup...And I got hosed when I didn't win"
The good Captain had decided to take us to Great and Little St James Islands again. I was almost disappointed at first (we'd been there in 2008), but I quickly remembered that Phil knows his shit and knew where to take us.
We motored out of the harbor and out into the Pillsbury Sound.
TheKid turned green. It was a little rough and the WS is a small boat. The rear deck area barely has room for 6 people plus the captain. Plus, you face sideways, so any motion sickness you may get can be exacerbated by your positioning. I knew the cure; we just had to convince TheKid to go for it.
We headed for the bow. You need to climb up on a cooler and then walk along the side of the boat to reach the bow. I led and Tarn followed TheKid. Once out there, S followed and we all had a little bow party. The breeze, view and forward-facing-ness calmed all of our stomachs. We sailed over to Great St James and anchored in Christmas Cove.
The cove was mostly empty; no big boats from St Thomas and no gaggles of idiots. Just us and a few cats that seemed to be moored there from the night before. Geared up, we went over the side. In case anyone cares, this time we went towards the beach and not out towards the big rock that sits out in the middle of the cove. So...same location, new snorkel.
I had asked TheKid ahead of time to remember how Trunk Bay looked; plenty of fish but a mostly tan and white reef. Then, I asked her to compare that to Jumbie (less visited so more colorful). I told her she would not believe what we would see with Captain Phil. I was right. After a swim across a grassy area, we hit the reef.
How good was the view? TheKid didn't even talk. She was speechless (Happy dance from the adults). We went back and forth across the reef and finally settled in along a little ledge that sat maybe 15 feet down. It was teeming with fish of every color imaginable. Capt Phil was there with his camera and his tail; TheKid. She followed him everywhere and, while she couldn't match him dive for dive, she did her best. It was a sight to behold. This was her 3rd snorkel and she was holding her ground against someone who's a minor legend in the Caribbean.
We stayed in the water for about an hour and a half and it honestly felt like 20 minutes. They say time flies when you're having fun...it certainly flies when you're snorkeling along a mostly untouched reef off a small Caribbean island.
We got our signal and headed back to the boat for lunch.
YAY LUNCH!
Allow me to be that guy and quote myself:
<i>"What is a great meal?
Is it the exquisitely prepared and presented piece of grilled fish that you ate one summer night at a sidewalk table of a high-end restaurant? Is it your wife's potato salad (believed by some to be the World's Best) made for you on your birthday, sitting next to a huge rib-eye that you grilled for yourself because you know, in your heart, that nobody cooks a steak like you do?
Or, is it a chicken salad sandwich?
Her name is Tarn. She's a world traveler and an adventurer. She's also the First and only mate aboard a small sailboat named the Wayward Sailor. Every day a small group of day-trippers follow her boss, Captain Phil Chalker through the waters of the US Virgin Islands in search of coral reefs and the elusive Caribbean Reef Octopus. In the meantime, she works in a galley no larger than a card table to make lunch for the guests." </i>
We were back for the sandwiches!
How good are they? TheKid, who never met a meal she wouldn't turn her nose up at, had 2 and a double helping of coleslaw. There's nothing else to say.
Out came the folder. As we'd told TheKid, this was more than a snorkel trip; this was school. She got the full octopus speech from the Captain and was so tuned in to what he was saying, she didn't even interrupt him. She sat, with laser-like focus, as the 4 of us smiled and knew we'd chosen wisely for our day trip.
The part about the octopus' copulation arm and the blast of semen...well...that was nice too.
Lunch and school over for the day, we raised the sails and headed out. TheKid promptly passed out in my lap.
We put-putted over to Little St James and moored at the same spot we'd visited in 2008. It made no difference, the snorkel was amazing. We spent another hour and a half in the water, going in and out of the reef. We saw more puffer fish, some very cool trumpet fish and an ungodly assortment of everything else. TheKid, as expected, shadowed the Captain and asked him questions about what she was seeing.
I know I was a very proud parent at that moment. I can only assume S was too. Our little girl had, quite literally, taken the plunge and was having the time of her life.
I'd been a nervous wreck in the weeks approaching the trip. The week before, it had rained non-stop. When we left, the forecast was for another tropical wave to hit the islands. I had MAJOR doubts. Would we have a pouting brat on our hands? Would she be buried in her DS all week?
Nope...things were working. If it hadn't happened already, by Tuesday, we had another Caribbean soul on our hands. The kid is hooked. I don't think she knew what to expect, and what she got far exceeded her imagination.
Back on board, we beat through some rough water back to town. Again...we all turned green. There would be no JJ's for us. We were sweaty beyond compare, a wee bit queasy and full from lunch. Plus, it was steak night!
At the house, we all soaked in the pool and rehydrated ourselves with beer.
I showered and cooked the steaks. Despite some major heat control issues on the grill (it soared to 800+ degrees on me!), they turned out well. Dinner was, as usual, eaten on the deck. We spent the rest of the night, burping and drinking rum.
How else would you want to end a perfect day?
Tuesday has historically been "adventure day" for us and, this year, it was no different. Who we were going out with was never debated; it was a matter of where. I'd contacted Captain Phil on the Wayward Sailor a few months back and inquired about the Jost trip. I really want to go to Jost but it never fits our plans. It's a place I need to check off the list but haven't had time to do. So, I booked the Jost trip on the WS.
Then, I started thinking about it. Then I started fretting about it. I emailed the group and got a collective "We don't give a shit". I fretted some more.
Then I pulled the plug. I booked the 2 snorkel trip. Good decision.
While on board, we were told that the WS makes up to 4.5 knots. Since Jost is 7-8 miles from Cruz Bay, even at top speed and under sail, that's almost 2 hours of sailing. And if the wind didn't cooperate...over 2 hours. So, on a 6-hour trip, we'd spend upwards of 4-5 of them beating into potentially rough seas.
We didn't need to be puking...not just yet.
The trip didn't leave until 10:00, so Her Highness, The Queen of I Don't Give a "F", was able to sleep in.
Nice name, eh?
At some point on the trip, T was taking pictures with his new big-ass camera. In fact, he spent a LOT of time messing around on the deck taking pictures. At one point, he was so happy with his shot that he brought the camera over to his wife to show off the result of his efforts.
Me: You're about to show that picture to The Queen of I Don't Give a "F"? Are you insane?
C: I like that name.
Needless to say, it stuck.
Anyhoo...we got to town a little early and ran into Ruth over at the store. Capt Phil was walking over and re all re-introduced ourselves.
"You're the guy who wrote about the sandwich, aren't you"
Yup...that was me. (Blushes)
Introduction and safety spiel done, we headed to the dinghy for the quick trip out to the boat. It's quite possible that the highlight of TheKid's day was the dinghy ride. She spent the rest of the week pointing out every...single...dinghy we saw (for those who have not visited...there are a LOT).
Onboard, we saw Tarn.
"Hi Tarn"
"You wrote that story, didn't you?"
"Yup...And I got hosed when I didn't win"
The good Captain had decided to take us to Great and Little St James Islands again. I was almost disappointed at first (we'd been there in 2008), but I quickly remembered that Phil knows his shit and knew where to take us.
We motored out of the harbor and out into the Pillsbury Sound.
TheKid turned green. It was a little rough and the WS is a small boat. The rear deck area barely has room for 6 people plus the captain. Plus, you face sideways, so any motion sickness you may get can be exacerbated by your positioning. I knew the cure; we just had to convince TheKid to go for it.
We headed for the bow. You need to climb up on a cooler and then walk along the side of the boat to reach the bow. I led and Tarn followed TheKid. Once out there, S followed and we all had a little bow party. The breeze, view and forward-facing-ness calmed all of our stomachs. We sailed over to Great St James and anchored in Christmas Cove.
The cove was mostly empty; no big boats from St Thomas and no gaggles of idiots. Just us and a few cats that seemed to be moored there from the night before. Geared up, we went over the side. In case anyone cares, this time we went towards the beach and not out towards the big rock that sits out in the middle of the cove. So...same location, new snorkel.
I had asked TheKid ahead of time to remember how Trunk Bay looked; plenty of fish but a mostly tan and white reef. Then, I asked her to compare that to Jumbie (less visited so more colorful). I told her she would not believe what we would see with Captain Phil. I was right. After a swim across a grassy area, we hit the reef.
How good was the view? TheKid didn't even talk. She was speechless (Happy dance from the adults). We went back and forth across the reef and finally settled in along a little ledge that sat maybe 15 feet down. It was teeming with fish of every color imaginable. Capt Phil was there with his camera and his tail; TheKid. She followed him everywhere and, while she couldn't match him dive for dive, she did her best. It was a sight to behold. This was her 3rd snorkel and she was holding her ground against someone who's a minor legend in the Caribbean.
We stayed in the water for about an hour and a half and it honestly felt like 20 minutes. They say time flies when you're having fun...it certainly flies when you're snorkeling along a mostly untouched reef off a small Caribbean island.
We got our signal and headed back to the boat for lunch.
YAY LUNCH!
Allow me to be that guy and quote myself:
<i>"What is a great meal?
Is it the exquisitely prepared and presented piece of grilled fish that you ate one summer night at a sidewalk table of a high-end restaurant? Is it your wife's potato salad (believed by some to be the World's Best) made for you on your birthday, sitting next to a huge rib-eye that you grilled for yourself because you know, in your heart, that nobody cooks a steak like you do?
Or, is it a chicken salad sandwich?
Her name is Tarn. She's a world traveler and an adventurer. She's also the First and only mate aboard a small sailboat named the Wayward Sailor. Every day a small group of day-trippers follow her boss, Captain Phil Chalker through the waters of the US Virgin Islands in search of coral reefs and the elusive Caribbean Reef Octopus. In the meantime, she works in a galley no larger than a card table to make lunch for the guests." </i>
We were back for the sandwiches!
How good are they? TheKid, who never met a meal she wouldn't turn her nose up at, had 2 and a double helping of coleslaw. There's nothing else to say.
Out came the folder. As we'd told TheKid, this was more than a snorkel trip; this was school. She got the full octopus speech from the Captain and was so tuned in to what he was saying, she didn't even interrupt him. She sat, with laser-like focus, as the 4 of us smiled and knew we'd chosen wisely for our day trip.
The part about the octopus' copulation arm and the blast of semen...well...that was nice too.
Lunch and school over for the day, we raised the sails and headed out. TheKid promptly passed out in my lap.
We put-putted over to Little St James and moored at the same spot we'd visited in 2008. It made no difference, the snorkel was amazing. We spent another hour and a half in the water, going in and out of the reef. We saw more puffer fish, some very cool trumpet fish and an ungodly assortment of everything else. TheKid, as expected, shadowed the Captain and asked him questions about what she was seeing.
I know I was a very proud parent at that moment. I can only assume S was too. Our little girl had, quite literally, taken the plunge and was having the time of her life.
I'd been a nervous wreck in the weeks approaching the trip. The week before, it had rained non-stop. When we left, the forecast was for another tropical wave to hit the islands. I had MAJOR doubts. Would we have a pouting brat on our hands? Would she be buried in her DS all week?
Nope...things were working. If it hadn't happened already, by Tuesday, we had another Caribbean soul on our hands. The kid is hooked. I don't think she knew what to expect, and what she got far exceeded her imagination.
Back on board, we beat through some rough water back to town. Again...we all turned green. There would be no JJ's for us. We were sweaty beyond compare, a wee bit queasy and full from lunch. Plus, it was steak night!
At the house, we all soaked in the pool and rehydrated ourselves with beer.
I showered and cooked the steaks. Despite some major heat control issues on the grill (it soared to 800+ degrees on me!), they turned out well. Dinner was, as usual, eaten on the deck. We spent the rest of the night, burping and drinking rum.
How else would you want to end a perfect day?
Wednesday July 28th
"Damage Report! All stations report in!"
"Rob reporting, sir. I've got a bitch of a blister on my right big toe from the fins and minor sunburn on my lower back. Of course, I should have known better than to have gone out on a boat for the day without putting any on. I am somewhat of a dumbass."
"Agreed, sailor."
"I also think I ate a 16-oz steak last night. I'm not sure that was a good idea"
"Agreed sailor. You can go back to the head now"
"S reporting in, sir. Captain Asshole (points to me as I carefully walk/run towards the nearest bathroom) over there did his usual piss poor job applying my sunscreen. (Turns around and lifts shirt) Do you see this? Do you effinging see this?"
"Sailor, I see it. That's quite a pattern"
"Oh no...let me show you my ass!"
"That's enough. If we paint the other cheek green, we'd have channel markers"
(I giggle from the other room)
"Yessir. As I was saying, I'm burnt all over my lower back. I have a mark from my weight belt, strap marks, and my ass cheeks are burnt. I am NOT happy, Captain."
"Settle down and have some tea. It will be better in a few days"
"C reporting, sir (she does that silly British salute that they do...all with the palm of the hand facing outward and all). My ass is burnt sir. "
"That seems to be going around, sailor"
"It does, sir. My eyes are also swollen shut. I'm tired and waterlogged. Requesting permission to take today off"
"Permission granted"
"T reporting in, sir. I'm mostly OK but this may be a problem. (Takes off shirt and exposes back)"
"Whoa, sailor...put that away. That's bright enough to land a plane. What the hell is wrong with you? Have you never seen the sun?"
"I understand, Captain. And the really red burns around my PFD don't help much, do they? They're gonna hurt, aren't they?"
"Yes, sailor. They will. Is that everyone? TheKid? TheKid? THEKID!!!!!"
"Wha?"
"Will you please look up from the TV and answer me? Damage report, please."
"Wha?"
"Never mind then. Go about your business"
Yes, good folks, the day after "excursion Day" always starts out a little on the rough side. 8 hours out in the sun will do that. We'd planned a relaxing day.
Naturally, that held until about 10:00. By then, both TheKid and I were fidgeting. We forced S to get dressed and set out on an adventure. If nothing else, I wanted to go to Peace Hill and show the ladies the ruins and view.
Off we went...I chose to take the very long way around so TheKid could see more of the island. Naturally, she got in the Jeep and started reading (log this away for future use). I took us up Gifft Hill Road (my least favorite road). Luckily for us, they were paving it and had intermittent lane closures. Sounds fine? Ever have to stop on the side of a hill that would make a mountain goat slip and then try to restart and squeeze between workers and a road grader? It's not fun.
But, we made it, passed the fork in the road and hit Centerline. Unfortunately, Mr. Moses' cows were nowhere to be found and there were no donkeys milling along the road. Mostly TheKid was bored. I was impressed that Centerline was coming back to me and that it looked somewhat familiar. I like recognizing the roads on St John. Makes me feel more local. TheKid was surprisingly quiet and was watching the trees go by.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing"
"Really"
"Yes"
"Liar"
Trying to cheer her up, we pulled up to the Smoothie Stand and got her a Berry Blast or something. She seemed to perk up as we went down the hill towards the North Shore. Since the goal was Peace Hill, way the hell on the other side of Trunk, I settled in for a nice drive.
There goes the Annaburg turn...there goes Maho...up a hill...down a hill...here comes Cinnamon.
Then it hit me...I'd never stopped to see the Cinnamon Bay ruins. What better time than now? We parked and crossed over to see what was going on. It was an easy walk and would probably entertain TheKid. It took some explaining on our part why the buildings were so old-looking. Finally, she understood and we explained where all the parts of the old sugar mill were. She was actually quite interested. Along the way, I picked up a little green thing off the ground, split it in half and handed it to TheKid.
"Eat this. It's good". For some reason, she didn't question me and popped her first genip into her mouth. We all remember our first genip, don't we? Mine was on the Reef Bay Trail. We spent some time, wandering the ruins, getting mauled by mosquitoes and searching for genips. All in all, we had a great time and I was able to check a landmark off my list.
Back in the car...past the Cinnamon switchbacks (as I call them), "Oh look...there's the house from The Real Housewives of NY", up the hill to Trunk, past Jumbie (parking available) and, finally up the hill towards Peace Hill.
The last time I'd been here, in 2008, it was pouring. So, it was nice to see things in nice blazing sunlight. In fact, we'd been blessed, weather-wise all week. The week before our trip was one giant rain storm. The gods were giving us a break and we had nice weather.
Up the hill we went. As always, I had my trusty trail guide in hand and noticed that the trail to Denis Bay was nearby. Hmmm...I'd heard of Denis Bay. We got to the windmill ruin and enjoyed the views. It's really a very short hike with a huge payoff. You have views across Hawksnest to the left and then Denis, Jumbie, Trunk and the rest of the North Shore to the right. In the distance, you can see Jost and Tortola. We snapped some pictures, explained a little history to TheKid and moved on.
On the way back, I diverted us to the Denis Bay Trail. My book described is as "not generally maintained". That sounds like fun. While the descent is only about 100 vertical feet, it is a rocky trip. You have to climb over tree roots, dusk under other trees and dodge hermit crabs with nearly every step. Just as I thought this had been a VERY BAD IDEA, we could hear the surf. We'd arrived at Denis Bay. It's a small, secluded beach and is worth a 5-10 minute walk to visit. We didn't have suits or gear with us to sample the water, but it was a bit rough and rocky. It's probably best that the fish didn't have an opportunity to go in. I don't think I wanted to scrape her off the reef. We hung out, took pictures, had a drink and went back up the hill.
I needed to make a few stops in town, so we managed, after some effort, to find a spot at the Lumberyard. (PS: There's no wood for sale there...at all). We needed to stop at one of my favorite places on the whole island: St John Ice! I love the place. For $.50/gallon, I filled 2 jugs from a modified garden hose. S had never visited before and also fell in love. It's such a silly little place that you can't help but just love it. We went to the nearby bakery and inquired about hot dog buns. They had none, but did have some freshly baked rolls. We picked them up figuring they were better than the rolls we had at the house.
We went back to the house for lunch and a swim. It had been a fantastic morning. I took a nice little nap by the pool.
Poor S had other plans. It was homework time. Since TheKid started the 3rd grade on July 7, she was officially missing a week of school. Good parents that we are, we asked for a week's worth of lessons.
Never again.
Poor S spent at least 3 hours per day working with TheKid on homework. No matter what enticement we used, it took forever and a half.
Do you want to sit on the deck while you work and look at the boats?
You don't even have to wear a shirt if you don't want (the invisible bikini was popular on this trip)
If you work quickly, I'll buy you ice cream.
Please...for the love of God....pay attention.
This went on all week. We'll not make the mistake of pulling her out of school any time soon.
We went to town later in the afternoon for a shopping trip to Mongoose Junction. The ladies didn't get much; we basically have all the T-shirts one could ever own. T and I had beer. We retired to JJ's, and while the service was better, the bill was still evil. The shine had definitely worn off for us. Plus, it was sticky that night; no breeze, and there were 4 douches at the table next to us. They were all drinking light beer.
Assholes.
Dinner, at the house of course, was pulled pork. It thawed and reheated nicely and was a very pleasant treat. It's also now firmly entrenched in the island menu. I think I was the first one to go to bed on Wednesday. I let the other adults stay up late and drink rum.
"Damage Report! All stations report in!"
"Rob reporting, sir. I've got a bitch of a blister on my right big toe from the fins and minor sunburn on my lower back. Of course, I should have known better than to have gone out on a boat for the day without putting any on. I am somewhat of a dumbass."
"Agreed, sailor."
"I also think I ate a 16-oz steak last night. I'm not sure that was a good idea"
"Agreed sailor. You can go back to the head now"
"S reporting in, sir. Captain Asshole (points to me as I carefully walk/run towards the nearest bathroom) over there did his usual piss poor job applying my sunscreen. (Turns around and lifts shirt) Do you see this? Do you effinging see this?"
"Sailor, I see it. That's quite a pattern"
"Oh no...let me show you my ass!"
"That's enough. If we paint the other cheek green, we'd have channel markers"
(I giggle from the other room)
"Yessir. As I was saying, I'm burnt all over my lower back. I have a mark from my weight belt, strap marks, and my ass cheeks are burnt. I am NOT happy, Captain."
"Settle down and have some tea. It will be better in a few days"
"C reporting, sir (she does that silly British salute that they do...all with the palm of the hand facing outward and all). My ass is burnt sir. "
"That seems to be going around, sailor"
"It does, sir. My eyes are also swollen shut. I'm tired and waterlogged. Requesting permission to take today off"
"Permission granted"
"T reporting in, sir. I'm mostly OK but this may be a problem. (Takes off shirt and exposes back)"
"Whoa, sailor...put that away. That's bright enough to land a plane. What the hell is wrong with you? Have you never seen the sun?"
"I understand, Captain. And the really red burns around my PFD don't help much, do they? They're gonna hurt, aren't they?"
"Yes, sailor. They will. Is that everyone? TheKid? TheKid? THEKID!!!!!"
"Wha?"
"Will you please look up from the TV and answer me? Damage report, please."
"Wha?"
"Never mind then. Go about your business"
Yes, good folks, the day after "excursion Day" always starts out a little on the rough side. 8 hours out in the sun will do that. We'd planned a relaxing day.
Naturally, that held until about 10:00. By then, both TheKid and I were fidgeting. We forced S to get dressed and set out on an adventure. If nothing else, I wanted to go to Peace Hill and show the ladies the ruins and view.
Off we went...I chose to take the very long way around so TheKid could see more of the island. Naturally, she got in the Jeep and started reading (log this away for future use). I took us up Gifft Hill Road (my least favorite road). Luckily for us, they were paving it and had intermittent lane closures. Sounds fine? Ever have to stop on the side of a hill that would make a mountain goat slip and then try to restart and squeeze between workers and a road grader? It's not fun.
But, we made it, passed the fork in the road and hit Centerline. Unfortunately, Mr. Moses' cows were nowhere to be found and there were no donkeys milling along the road. Mostly TheKid was bored. I was impressed that Centerline was coming back to me and that it looked somewhat familiar. I like recognizing the roads on St John. Makes me feel more local. TheKid was surprisingly quiet and was watching the trees go by.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing"
"Really"
"Yes"
"Liar"
Trying to cheer her up, we pulled up to the Smoothie Stand and got her a Berry Blast or something. She seemed to perk up as we went down the hill towards the North Shore. Since the goal was Peace Hill, way the hell on the other side of Trunk, I settled in for a nice drive.
There goes the Annaburg turn...there goes Maho...up a hill...down a hill...here comes Cinnamon.
Then it hit me...I'd never stopped to see the Cinnamon Bay ruins. What better time than now? We parked and crossed over to see what was going on. It was an easy walk and would probably entertain TheKid. It took some explaining on our part why the buildings were so old-looking. Finally, she understood and we explained where all the parts of the old sugar mill were. She was actually quite interested. Along the way, I picked up a little green thing off the ground, split it in half and handed it to TheKid.
"Eat this. It's good". For some reason, she didn't question me and popped her first genip into her mouth. We all remember our first genip, don't we? Mine was on the Reef Bay Trail. We spent some time, wandering the ruins, getting mauled by mosquitoes and searching for genips. All in all, we had a great time and I was able to check a landmark off my list.
Back in the car...past the Cinnamon switchbacks (as I call them), "Oh look...there's the house from The Real Housewives of NY", up the hill to Trunk, past Jumbie (parking available) and, finally up the hill towards Peace Hill.
The last time I'd been here, in 2008, it was pouring. So, it was nice to see things in nice blazing sunlight. In fact, we'd been blessed, weather-wise all week. The week before our trip was one giant rain storm. The gods were giving us a break and we had nice weather.
Up the hill we went. As always, I had my trusty trail guide in hand and noticed that the trail to Denis Bay was nearby. Hmmm...I'd heard of Denis Bay. We got to the windmill ruin and enjoyed the views. It's really a very short hike with a huge payoff. You have views across Hawksnest to the left and then Denis, Jumbie, Trunk and the rest of the North Shore to the right. In the distance, you can see Jost and Tortola. We snapped some pictures, explained a little history to TheKid and moved on.
On the way back, I diverted us to the Denis Bay Trail. My book described is as "not generally maintained". That sounds like fun. While the descent is only about 100 vertical feet, it is a rocky trip. You have to climb over tree roots, dusk under other trees and dodge hermit crabs with nearly every step. Just as I thought this had been a VERY BAD IDEA, we could hear the surf. We'd arrived at Denis Bay. It's a small, secluded beach and is worth a 5-10 minute walk to visit. We didn't have suits or gear with us to sample the water, but it was a bit rough and rocky. It's probably best that the fish didn't have an opportunity to go in. I don't think I wanted to scrape her off the reef. We hung out, took pictures, had a drink and went back up the hill.
I needed to make a few stops in town, so we managed, after some effort, to find a spot at the Lumberyard. (PS: There's no wood for sale there...at all). We needed to stop at one of my favorite places on the whole island: St John Ice! I love the place. For $.50/gallon, I filled 2 jugs from a modified garden hose. S had never visited before and also fell in love. It's such a silly little place that you can't help but just love it. We went to the nearby bakery and inquired about hot dog buns. They had none, but did have some freshly baked rolls. We picked them up figuring they were better than the rolls we had at the house.
We went back to the house for lunch and a swim. It had been a fantastic morning. I took a nice little nap by the pool.
Poor S had other plans. It was homework time. Since TheKid started the 3rd grade on July 7, she was officially missing a week of school. Good parents that we are, we asked for a week's worth of lessons.
Never again.
Poor S spent at least 3 hours per day working with TheKid on homework. No matter what enticement we used, it took forever and a half.
Do you want to sit on the deck while you work and look at the boats?
You don't even have to wear a shirt if you don't want (the invisible bikini was popular on this trip)
If you work quickly, I'll buy you ice cream.
Please...for the love of God....pay attention.
This went on all week. We'll not make the mistake of pulling her out of school any time soon.
We went to town later in the afternoon for a shopping trip to Mongoose Junction. The ladies didn't get much; we basically have all the T-shirts one could ever own. T and I had beer. We retired to JJ's, and while the service was better, the bill was still evil. The shine had definitely worn off for us. Plus, it was sticky that night; no breeze, and there were 4 douches at the table next to us. They were all drinking light beer.
Assholes.
Dinner, at the house of course, was pulled pork. It thawed and reheated nicely and was a very pleasant treat. It's also now firmly entrenched in the island menu. I think I was the first one to go to bed on Wednesday. I let the other adults stay up late and drink rum.
Last edited by pipanale on Tue Aug 10, 2010 8:42 am, edited 1 time in total.
Thursday July 29
Thursday was massage day for the ladies. Leaving them in our wake, T, TheKid and I set out for adventure.
As the 3 of us patrolled the island, I had to wonder what we looked like. I'm guessing 2 Queens and a kid. I'm happy, even if just for a day, we looked nice and open in our lifestyle. Truthfully, T loves TheKid but probably doesn't want to keep her.
I'd wanted to get back to Honeymoon Bay for a while now, but knew that the full crew would not make the trip. Her Highness would not stand for the walk and I hadn't figured out how to steal a golf cart from the Caneel. S and I had visited Honeymoon in 2004 and 2006, and to be honest, the snorkeling wasn't great. But, I'd heard so many good things that I wanted to go back and see if we could find the goods.
We went to the Caneel, gave them a vial of blood, an ear and our car info, all to have the right to set foot on their property. Since the last visit, they started charging to park. What's the matter, assholes? Rooms not selling like hotcakes at $700/night anymore? We parked, unloaded, checked in at the front desk to get our little parking pass, and set out for the beach.
"You've got that parking pass, right", T asked me.
"Yup. It's right here in my pocket"
We got to the beach and were a little disappointed by what we saw. There were 2 gaggles of cruise ship dorks in the bay. Of course, we expected this, but still had hoped for the best. All across the bay, there were goons of assorted size and color flopping around like angry seagulls. As long as we stayed away from them, we'd be Ok. And since they had the collective snorkel experience of someone who has never snorkeled, I knew we'd be Ok if we went for deeper water.
As soon as we moved away from the beach, I realized that we'd have a good snorkel...at a price. There was a good current running from right to left, essentially pulling us towards Solomon Bay. I wasn't concerned about myself or TheKid (now in a pair of rented flippers). T had me slightly nervous, but, if push came to shove, I could always put his flippers on and tow him to safety.
I now understand everything that's been written about Honeymoon. It has a great reef and we say a lot of fish. We even spotted a fairly large Caribbean Spiny Lobster. That was a first for us. Te sun was out, the water had cleared, the cruise ship people were already leaving and we were having a ball. We followed the reef all the way to the rocks that separate Honeymoon from Solomon. We went a bit farther (mostly so we could say we snorkeled Solomon), but the current was starting to pull us a little quicker than I liked. I signaled for us to head back. We beat through the current to a spot where the reef ended and the beach began. To TheKid's chagrin, I directed us all towards the beach. There was no reason to swim through that mess. We got out, walked to the other side of the bay and started over. We drifted the full width of the bay and managed to dodge the dinghies that were ferrying the cruisers back to their boats.
At the other side, T and I got out and TheKid stayed in the shallows, looking for something. We looked in her direction and a stingray was on patrol about 5 feet off the shoreline. It swam right past her and she followed...a safe distance behind.
Having had enough, and under assault from mosquitoes, we gathered up our crap. I had picked a few pieces of trash off the bottom along the way and I was gathering them to be thrown away. I pulled out a candy wrapper and a mangled blue piece of paper. Remember that parking pass that I said I'd take care of?
Whoopsie.
We walked back to the front desk, now looking 200% like we did not belong at the resort and I presented my mess. The lady manning the desk obviously had seen this trick before because she laughed at me and gave us a new pass. I didn't have to give any blood or submit to a cavity search. I guess that was OK. I was feeling lonely after all.
We stopped at the Love City Fraco truck on the way back to the house. TheKid enjoyed her fresh mango shaved ice thing and T turned down my offer for an ice cold Schaeffer. Beer snob.
At the house, we were met with applause. Were they happy to see us? Hell no. They were hungry.
After beer, lunch, naps and homework, it was time to head out again.
One of my goals for this trip was to add beaches to our list. Our trip to Cinnamon in 2008 had been rough and our 2006 trip to Maho had ended in disaster when a battalion of mosquitoes nearly ate us alive. I needed to find a new beach to go to. We still haven't been to Hawksnest (seems too touristy for me) and going past the intersections of Centerline and north Shore would cause C to twitch. We really only had one choice...and I was excited about it.
"T: we're going to Francis Bay"
"Where the hell is that?"
"Ehhh...not too far...past Cinnamon"
Since he hates the Cinnamon Switchback, T wanted to drive. I was actually going to make the offer. We didn't want to do Gifft Hill again, so we went to town and took Centerline all the way out to the Smoothie stand and then came back. The ride was pleasant and we even saw some roadside pigs. Despite minimal noise from the backseat, we made it down the very bumpy road to Francis. Unfortunately, at about the same time that we arrived, so did some clouds.
I'm sure Francis is lovely on other day and offers a nice snorkel, but, as C put it, it was like snorkeling in black and white. But, we went across the bay and rounded the point to Maho Bay. This enabled me to say I'd snorkeled Maho on this trip. It was cheating, but I didn't care. On the way back, TheKid and I spotted a platform a ways out in the distance. Always looking to tire her out, we swam out to it.
Oh...it's the mooring pay station and nothing else.
"Let's swim back. FAST!"
That may not have been my nest idea all day. In a pair of fins, TheKid took off. I have maybe a year or 2 more before she's beating my ass in the pool. In fins, she can beat my ass right now. It was all I could do to almost keep up with her and I've been swimming a lot this summer too! We arrived at the gang and she triumphantly announced to everyone that she had won. She had.
At the beach, we spotted some forumites...forumites from NC to boot. We chatted for a while and then noticed a curtain of blackness heading towards us. Rain was rapidly advancing in from Leinster Bay. In seconds, the sky turned black and we were in the middle of a serious tropical downpour. We put our masks on to avoid splash back and sat in the water as it poured on us. Naturally, the kids all thought this was TOTALLY AWESOME and used the rain as an excuse to stay in the water for longer. When the rain finally stopped, we gathered our stuff (gee...I wonder whose idea it was to go back into the woods a bit to put it all under heavy tree cover???) and ran to the Jeep. The Maho mosquitoes had sensed us and were out for blood.
T drove us home and we had a quiet evening of leftovers and rum.
The week was winding down; we had only one full day on St John left, but it had been a fantastic trip. The house had cooperated. The weather had cooperated. Everything had gone according to plan.
Thursday was massage day for the ladies. Leaving them in our wake, T, TheKid and I set out for adventure.
As the 3 of us patrolled the island, I had to wonder what we looked like. I'm guessing 2 Queens and a kid. I'm happy, even if just for a day, we looked nice and open in our lifestyle. Truthfully, T loves TheKid but probably doesn't want to keep her.
I'd wanted to get back to Honeymoon Bay for a while now, but knew that the full crew would not make the trip. Her Highness would not stand for the walk and I hadn't figured out how to steal a golf cart from the Caneel. S and I had visited Honeymoon in 2004 and 2006, and to be honest, the snorkeling wasn't great. But, I'd heard so many good things that I wanted to go back and see if we could find the goods.
We went to the Caneel, gave them a vial of blood, an ear and our car info, all to have the right to set foot on their property. Since the last visit, they started charging to park. What's the matter, assholes? Rooms not selling like hotcakes at $700/night anymore? We parked, unloaded, checked in at the front desk to get our little parking pass, and set out for the beach.
"You've got that parking pass, right", T asked me.
"Yup. It's right here in my pocket"
We got to the beach and were a little disappointed by what we saw. There were 2 gaggles of cruise ship dorks in the bay. Of course, we expected this, but still had hoped for the best. All across the bay, there were goons of assorted size and color flopping around like angry seagulls. As long as we stayed away from them, we'd be Ok. And since they had the collective snorkel experience of someone who has never snorkeled, I knew we'd be Ok if we went for deeper water.
As soon as we moved away from the beach, I realized that we'd have a good snorkel...at a price. There was a good current running from right to left, essentially pulling us towards Solomon Bay. I wasn't concerned about myself or TheKid (now in a pair of rented flippers). T had me slightly nervous, but, if push came to shove, I could always put his flippers on and tow him to safety.
I now understand everything that's been written about Honeymoon. It has a great reef and we say a lot of fish. We even spotted a fairly large Caribbean Spiny Lobster. That was a first for us. Te sun was out, the water had cleared, the cruise ship people were already leaving and we were having a ball. We followed the reef all the way to the rocks that separate Honeymoon from Solomon. We went a bit farther (mostly so we could say we snorkeled Solomon), but the current was starting to pull us a little quicker than I liked. I signaled for us to head back. We beat through the current to a spot where the reef ended and the beach began. To TheKid's chagrin, I directed us all towards the beach. There was no reason to swim through that mess. We got out, walked to the other side of the bay and started over. We drifted the full width of the bay and managed to dodge the dinghies that were ferrying the cruisers back to their boats.
At the other side, T and I got out and TheKid stayed in the shallows, looking for something. We looked in her direction and a stingray was on patrol about 5 feet off the shoreline. It swam right past her and she followed...a safe distance behind.
Having had enough, and under assault from mosquitoes, we gathered up our crap. I had picked a few pieces of trash off the bottom along the way and I was gathering them to be thrown away. I pulled out a candy wrapper and a mangled blue piece of paper. Remember that parking pass that I said I'd take care of?
Whoopsie.
We walked back to the front desk, now looking 200% like we did not belong at the resort and I presented my mess. The lady manning the desk obviously had seen this trick before because she laughed at me and gave us a new pass. I didn't have to give any blood or submit to a cavity search. I guess that was OK. I was feeling lonely after all.
We stopped at the Love City Fraco truck on the way back to the house. TheKid enjoyed her fresh mango shaved ice thing and T turned down my offer for an ice cold Schaeffer. Beer snob.
At the house, we were met with applause. Were they happy to see us? Hell no. They were hungry.
After beer, lunch, naps and homework, it was time to head out again.
One of my goals for this trip was to add beaches to our list. Our trip to Cinnamon in 2008 had been rough and our 2006 trip to Maho had ended in disaster when a battalion of mosquitoes nearly ate us alive. I needed to find a new beach to go to. We still haven't been to Hawksnest (seems too touristy for me) and going past the intersections of Centerline and north Shore would cause C to twitch. We really only had one choice...and I was excited about it.
"T: we're going to Francis Bay"
"Where the hell is that?"
"Ehhh...not too far...past Cinnamon"
Since he hates the Cinnamon Switchback, T wanted to drive. I was actually going to make the offer. We didn't want to do Gifft Hill again, so we went to town and took Centerline all the way out to the Smoothie stand and then came back. The ride was pleasant and we even saw some roadside pigs. Despite minimal noise from the backseat, we made it down the very bumpy road to Francis. Unfortunately, at about the same time that we arrived, so did some clouds.
I'm sure Francis is lovely on other day and offers a nice snorkel, but, as C put it, it was like snorkeling in black and white. But, we went across the bay and rounded the point to Maho Bay. This enabled me to say I'd snorkeled Maho on this trip. It was cheating, but I didn't care. On the way back, TheKid and I spotted a platform a ways out in the distance. Always looking to tire her out, we swam out to it.
Oh...it's the mooring pay station and nothing else.
"Let's swim back. FAST!"
That may not have been my nest idea all day. In a pair of fins, TheKid took off. I have maybe a year or 2 more before she's beating my ass in the pool. In fins, she can beat my ass right now. It was all I could do to almost keep up with her and I've been swimming a lot this summer too! We arrived at the gang and she triumphantly announced to everyone that she had won. She had.
At the beach, we spotted some forumites...forumites from NC to boot. We chatted for a while and then noticed a curtain of blackness heading towards us. Rain was rapidly advancing in from Leinster Bay. In seconds, the sky turned black and we were in the middle of a serious tropical downpour. We put our masks on to avoid splash back and sat in the water as it poured on us. Naturally, the kids all thought this was TOTALLY AWESOME and used the rain as an excuse to stay in the water for longer. When the rain finally stopped, we gathered our stuff (gee...I wonder whose idea it was to go back into the woods a bit to put it all under heavy tree cover???) and ran to the Jeep. The Maho mosquitoes had sensed us and were out for blood.
T drove us home and we had a quiet evening of leftovers and rum.
The week was winding down; we had only one full day on St John left, but it had been a fantastic trip. The house had cooperated. The weather had cooperated. Everything had gone according to plan.
Friday July 30
It was our last full day on the island and I'd made it no farther east that that wacky place where the roads meet and parts go one way and parts don't and you never quite know if you're going the right way and simply pray that a water truck hasn't decided to stop in at Maho and then squash you on its way back home.
Yea...like that.
So, after breakfast, T, S, TheKid and I set out on a course for adventure. C, as always, had been as far east as she wants to go on the trip to Francis and was sitting the morning's trip out. My grand plan had been to go east on Monday and see Salt Pond and Drunk Bays and Blue Cobblestone Beach. Reports from the front indicated that the Drunk Bay trail was underwater earlier in the week. Os, we waited it out for a few days, hoping that the waters would recede and we'd be able to make it out to Drunk Bay.
Out we went... Up Gifft Hill road and on to Centerline. Still no cows. We were driving along and I was pushing the Jeep to its maximum ability; I was driving about 28mph. I was whizzing in and out of curves and the vehicle was driving like it was on rails.
At about mile marker 6 (of
, I noticed that TheKid was VERY quiet. That's highly abnormal. Remember, this is the child who talks while underwater. I looked back and asked "Are you OK?"
"Yea"
"No...are you OK. You don't look so good"
"My belly hurts...a lot"
S: "Are you gonna puke"
"I don't think so"
(I can't even imagine what was going through T's mind at this point. I think I smelled a combination of fear, horror and a desire to be anywhere but in that Jeep)
"It's OK if you have to puke. Just let us know. I need to find a place to pull over"
Mind you, I'm not driving along a stateside road or highway. By the time you get to mile 6, you're on the descent into Coral Bay and the road is steep. You're coming down off of Ajax Peak and, for once the road is straight. As a result, it goes straight down. In other words, it's not the best place on Earth to have a sick kid.
Spotting a dumpster turnoff just past marker 6.5, I turn around "Just give me a few seconds and we can...OH SHIT!"
At that moment, a thick brown liquid begins seeping from TheKid's mouth. Thankfully, she's not retching or anything, but what's coming out of her looks horrifying. In a millisecond, I'm convinced that her liver has liquefied and she's yarking it up. Then is hits me.
On Wednesday, S and I had gone to the store to buy vegetable oil. Since we were on vacation in an even year, T and I were taking time to unofficially celebrate our August birthdays. The vegetable oil was the one, somewhat important, ingredient we'd forgotten to bring for the birthday cake. S did a wonderful job baking and frosting a nice big cake for us.
Guess what TheKid had for breakfast on Friday?
So...the child is slowly vomiting all over herself, S has nothing to catch it with and I'm driving down the side of a mountain. I beg for her to hold it...the dumpster thing is maybe 150 yards ahead, and I think I can make it.
KABLOOEY!
Mt. TheKid erupts. There's vomit all over her and in S's hands. All she could do was cup her hands and catch as much as possible. I screech the car to a stop, pull the emergency brake and jump out. Remember folks, this is the USVI. I'm not jumping out into the traffic side. I jump out into a guardrail and the gutter...a gutter area that's overgrown by the jungle.
I throw open the doors and extract the ladies from the car. TheKid is covered and S has it in her hands, on her arms and covering her legs. Thick...partially-digested chocolate cake. I run behind the Jeep, and get all of my hiking water out of the packs. I douse S and we wriggle TheKid out of her shirt...previously a lovely shade of blue and now a shade of puke.
At this point, I can only imagine that T is practicing his deep breathing exercises.
We rinse TheKid off as best we can and wipe her down with a beach towel. The house had provided these lovely embroidered towels...now one is brown. We hose them off as best we can and decide what to do next.
"How do you feel?"
"Fine! Let's go"
Away we go. I know that in a mile and a half I can find someplace to stop and clean up. Love City Minimart, here we come. I hadn't planned on adding you to the list of sites to see, but here you were never the less. I stop at the store and buy 2 gallons of water and a sponge. The clerk eyes me quizzically. In the parking lot, we take the car apart. The floor mats caught a lot of the mess and they need to be rinsed. The seats REALLY need to be cleaned. The child also needs a good rinsing. As we're doing this, the clerk comes outside and the other guy who works there stands watching...while a box of frozen something or another melts in his hands. I use a gallon to clean the car and the other gallon to refill the water bottles. Feeling confident, we head out to wards Salt Pond. My single biggest fear at this point is that we'll come back to the car and it will smell like baked puke. That would be BAD.
We arrive at the Salt Pond parking lot and assess the damage again. In case you don't know, to get to Salt Pond Bay, you have to walk about 1/2 a mile down a hill. We all know what that means don't we? At the bottom, we set out for the far side of the bay. S and I take the puke towel and shirt and immediately go to washing them in the bay. We're one step away from a couple of Ukrainian women on wash day. We hang the wash in the trees and set out towards Blue Cobblestone. I had "discovered" this beach only a few months ago and really wanted to see it.
Did I mention how hot it was? Let's assess our traveling party:
Me: Super stud father of the millennium. I've been blasting my pecs for months and was in prime shape...for a middle-aged semi-alcoholic bald man. There is no trail I can't conquer.
S: Mother of 2, foxy as hell, but still wiping puke off herself. She's developing the DT's as I watch her.
T: a nearly 60-year old man who just witnessed some car puking. The only shape he's in is bad.
TheKid: Intrepid 8-year old who just finished a rather large bout of puking.
Did I mention how insanely hot it was? We started up the trail alongside the east side of the bay. Up we went...down we went...over rocks and roots, across open spaces. Finally, we got to the top of a hill and could see Blue Cobblestone...another 20 minutes away. Any thoughts of hiking to Ram Head flew out the window. At this point, T was redder than his shirt and drenched in sweat.
"Have some water" was repeated by me every 14 seconds.
We still had to descend a big hill and walk a little bit to get to the beach. S wisely made the call. We were turning back. We already had 2 hills to go up and down just to get back and did not need a third. Still...the view was pretty. Our concern was that T was about to pass out and that TheKid didn't know that she was also going to join him.
We tromped back to the beach and took a look at the Drunk Bay trail. It normally runs alongside the shoreline of the Salt Pond, maybe 3-4 feet above the water's surface. It was still underwater. So...there went Drunk Bay.
TheKid pouted.
Back to the beach. We were immediately set upon by a billion mosquitoes. We got our gear, braved the rocky beach and had a snorkel. Fortunately, the snorkeling was awesome. We spent well over an hour in the water and saw some good stuff. We did the eastern reef, then swam across the bay and did the west side. It ranked just below Honeymoon for the color and abundance of sea life. It was really a good time. But, all good times must end. We dried off, got bitten again, and all managed to get these lovely little barb-like plants stuck to our feet, hands, legs, arms, heads, etc... We slogged up the hill to the Jeep and arrived at a decidedly un-pukeish-smelling Jeep. Thank God.
Back on the road...me driving much more slowly, we set out for a pre-lunch snack. We pulled into the Tourist Trap and ordered hot dogs for S and T. I wasn't all that hungry and TheKid just looked hot. Hotdogs in hand, we got back in the Jeep to head to Skinny Legs. It was time for lunch.
Skinny's was bopping. We had a hard time finding a parking spot...I ended up in a ditch. We ordered our usual Skinny's drinks: Presedentes and got 2 burgers. Skinny's is so wonderful. It's a total dive, yet has all the charm that Coral Bay needs. There's a roof only in the loosest sense, no walls, and a bar full of oddballs. TheKid took in the sights as we waited. Burgers in hand, we dove into lunch. They clearly have the best burger I've ever had on St John. I can't vouch for how good it would be back at home, but sitting there, hot, sweaty, salty and drinking an ice-cold beer...it's heaven on a bun. (Somebody wrote a song about that once I believe).We bought everyone some shirts and headed back to the house.
We got home and went straight to the pool.
Then we did laundry.
On Sunday, I'd gotten an invitation from Ruth to go see her and Ron's new house, the Grateful Shed. We hadn't had time to go all week, but I wasn't about to miss a chance to go visit. So, I mustered the troops late in the afternoon and we went to the house... and got lost finding it. Finally, Ruth waved us down and we got to the house.
Wowie Zowie...it's nice! The Shed has a huge pool, a large open kitchen/dining/living room and 2 bedrooms. The house was bathed in light and had a great breeze blowing through it. Having stayed in a house that had no breath of wind at all, I can vouch for how nice it is to have a good breeze. We got the tour, taking extra time to marvel at the sewage treatment plant. Finally Ron asked TheKid "So...why aren't you in the pool?" That was all she needed. We'd told her she needed to be invited to use the pool and that she was not to just leap in it uninvited. Having been invited, she cannonballed off the deck into the water.
We spent some time at the Shed, talking to Ruth and Ron. I could go on for a while here about what wonderful people they both are but I don't need to make Ruth blush. Needless to say, we were honored to be invited up to the house to go visit. We had a great time and it was fun to see a house still under construction. It's so very different from what you go through back at home; the materials, the actual construction etc. We had a really good time and are all eye-balling the place once it comes on the market.
We gave each other a collective "Eh" when the topic of JJ's came up. Instead, we went back to the house to clean out the fridge. Most of the remaining leftovers were eaten and we spent another evening on the deck, watching the stars, making up names for constellations and using the house's telescope to spy on people at the Westin and on boats in the harbor.
We'd rounded the final corner and were in the home stretch. Tomorrow was getaway day for us.
What joy would it hold?
It was our last full day on the island and I'd made it no farther east that that wacky place where the roads meet and parts go one way and parts don't and you never quite know if you're going the right way and simply pray that a water truck hasn't decided to stop in at Maho and then squash you on its way back home.
Yea...like that.
So, after breakfast, T, S, TheKid and I set out on a course for adventure. C, as always, had been as far east as she wants to go on the trip to Francis and was sitting the morning's trip out. My grand plan had been to go east on Monday and see Salt Pond and Drunk Bays and Blue Cobblestone Beach. Reports from the front indicated that the Drunk Bay trail was underwater earlier in the week. Os, we waited it out for a few days, hoping that the waters would recede and we'd be able to make it out to Drunk Bay.
Out we went... Up Gifft Hill road and on to Centerline. Still no cows. We were driving along and I was pushing the Jeep to its maximum ability; I was driving about 28mph. I was whizzing in and out of curves and the vehicle was driving like it was on rails.
At about mile marker 6 (of
, I noticed that TheKid was VERY quiet. That's highly abnormal. Remember, this is the child who talks while underwater. I looked back and asked "Are you OK?""Yea"
"No...are you OK. You don't look so good"
"My belly hurts...a lot"
S: "Are you gonna puke"
"I don't think so"
(I can't even imagine what was going through T's mind at this point. I think I smelled a combination of fear, horror and a desire to be anywhere but in that Jeep)
"It's OK if you have to puke. Just let us know. I need to find a place to pull over"
Mind you, I'm not driving along a stateside road or highway. By the time you get to mile 6, you're on the descent into Coral Bay and the road is steep. You're coming down off of Ajax Peak and, for once the road is straight. As a result, it goes straight down. In other words, it's not the best place on Earth to have a sick kid.
Spotting a dumpster turnoff just past marker 6.5, I turn around "Just give me a few seconds and we can...OH SHIT!"
At that moment, a thick brown liquid begins seeping from TheKid's mouth. Thankfully, she's not retching or anything, but what's coming out of her looks horrifying. In a millisecond, I'm convinced that her liver has liquefied and she's yarking it up. Then is hits me.
On Wednesday, S and I had gone to the store to buy vegetable oil. Since we were on vacation in an even year, T and I were taking time to unofficially celebrate our August birthdays. The vegetable oil was the one, somewhat important, ingredient we'd forgotten to bring for the birthday cake. S did a wonderful job baking and frosting a nice big cake for us.
Guess what TheKid had for breakfast on Friday?
So...the child is slowly vomiting all over herself, S has nothing to catch it with and I'm driving down the side of a mountain. I beg for her to hold it...the dumpster thing is maybe 150 yards ahead, and I think I can make it.
KABLOOEY!
Mt. TheKid erupts. There's vomit all over her and in S's hands. All she could do was cup her hands and catch as much as possible. I screech the car to a stop, pull the emergency brake and jump out. Remember folks, this is the USVI. I'm not jumping out into the traffic side. I jump out into a guardrail and the gutter...a gutter area that's overgrown by the jungle.
I throw open the doors and extract the ladies from the car. TheKid is covered and S has it in her hands, on her arms and covering her legs. Thick...partially-digested chocolate cake. I run behind the Jeep, and get all of my hiking water out of the packs. I douse S and we wriggle TheKid out of her shirt...previously a lovely shade of blue and now a shade of puke.
At this point, I can only imagine that T is practicing his deep breathing exercises.
We rinse TheKid off as best we can and wipe her down with a beach towel. The house had provided these lovely embroidered towels...now one is brown. We hose them off as best we can and decide what to do next.
"How do you feel?"
"Fine! Let's go"
Away we go. I know that in a mile and a half I can find someplace to stop and clean up. Love City Minimart, here we come. I hadn't planned on adding you to the list of sites to see, but here you were never the less. I stop at the store and buy 2 gallons of water and a sponge. The clerk eyes me quizzically. In the parking lot, we take the car apart. The floor mats caught a lot of the mess and they need to be rinsed. The seats REALLY need to be cleaned. The child also needs a good rinsing. As we're doing this, the clerk comes outside and the other guy who works there stands watching...while a box of frozen something or another melts in his hands. I use a gallon to clean the car and the other gallon to refill the water bottles. Feeling confident, we head out to wards Salt Pond. My single biggest fear at this point is that we'll come back to the car and it will smell like baked puke. That would be BAD.
We arrive at the Salt Pond parking lot and assess the damage again. In case you don't know, to get to Salt Pond Bay, you have to walk about 1/2 a mile down a hill. We all know what that means don't we? At the bottom, we set out for the far side of the bay. S and I take the puke towel and shirt and immediately go to washing them in the bay. We're one step away from a couple of Ukrainian women on wash day. We hang the wash in the trees and set out towards Blue Cobblestone. I had "discovered" this beach only a few months ago and really wanted to see it.
Did I mention how hot it was? Let's assess our traveling party:
Me: Super stud father of the millennium. I've been blasting my pecs for months and was in prime shape...for a middle-aged semi-alcoholic bald man. There is no trail I can't conquer.
S: Mother of 2, foxy as hell, but still wiping puke off herself. She's developing the DT's as I watch her.
T: a nearly 60-year old man who just witnessed some car puking. The only shape he's in is bad.
TheKid: Intrepid 8-year old who just finished a rather large bout of puking.
Did I mention how insanely hot it was? We started up the trail alongside the east side of the bay. Up we went...down we went...over rocks and roots, across open spaces. Finally, we got to the top of a hill and could see Blue Cobblestone...another 20 minutes away. Any thoughts of hiking to Ram Head flew out the window. At this point, T was redder than his shirt and drenched in sweat.
"Have some water" was repeated by me every 14 seconds.
We still had to descend a big hill and walk a little bit to get to the beach. S wisely made the call. We were turning back. We already had 2 hills to go up and down just to get back and did not need a third. Still...the view was pretty. Our concern was that T was about to pass out and that TheKid didn't know that she was also going to join him.
We tromped back to the beach and took a look at the Drunk Bay trail. It normally runs alongside the shoreline of the Salt Pond, maybe 3-4 feet above the water's surface. It was still underwater. So...there went Drunk Bay.
TheKid pouted.
Back to the beach. We were immediately set upon by a billion mosquitoes. We got our gear, braved the rocky beach and had a snorkel. Fortunately, the snorkeling was awesome. We spent well over an hour in the water and saw some good stuff. We did the eastern reef, then swam across the bay and did the west side. It ranked just below Honeymoon for the color and abundance of sea life. It was really a good time. But, all good times must end. We dried off, got bitten again, and all managed to get these lovely little barb-like plants stuck to our feet, hands, legs, arms, heads, etc... We slogged up the hill to the Jeep and arrived at a decidedly un-pukeish-smelling Jeep. Thank God.
Back on the road...me driving much more slowly, we set out for a pre-lunch snack. We pulled into the Tourist Trap and ordered hot dogs for S and T. I wasn't all that hungry and TheKid just looked hot. Hotdogs in hand, we got back in the Jeep to head to Skinny Legs. It was time for lunch.
Skinny's was bopping. We had a hard time finding a parking spot...I ended up in a ditch. We ordered our usual Skinny's drinks: Presedentes and got 2 burgers. Skinny's is so wonderful. It's a total dive, yet has all the charm that Coral Bay needs. There's a roof only in the loosest sense, no walls, and a bar full of oddballs. TheKid took in the sights as we waited. Burgers in hand, we dove into lunch. They clearly have the best burger I've ever had on St John. I can't vouch for how good it would be back at home, but sitting there, hot, sweaty, salty and drinking an ice-cold beer...it's heaven on a bun. (Somebody wrote a song about that once I believe).We bought everyone some shirts and headed back to the house.
We got home and went straight to the pool.
Then we did laundry.
On Sunday, I'd gotten an invitation from Ruth to go see her and Ron's new house, the Grateful Shed. We hadn't had time to go all week, but I wasn't about to miss a chance to go visit. So, I mustered the troops late in the afternoon and we went to the house... and got lost finding it. Finally, Ruth waved us down and we got to the house.
Wowie Zowie...it's nice! The Shed has a huge pool, a large open kitchen/dining/living room and 2 bedrooms. The house was bathed in light and had a great breeze blowing through it. Having stayed in a house that had no breath of wind at all, I can vouch for how nice it is to have a good breeze. We got the tour, taking extra time to marvel at the sewage treatment plant. Finally Ron asked TheKid "So...why aren't you in the pool?" That was all she needed. We'd told her she needed to be invited to use the pool and that she was not to just leap in it uninvited. Having been invited, she cannonballed off the deck into the water.
We spent some time at the Shed, talking to Ruth and Ron. I could go on for a while here about what wonderful people they both are but I don't need to make Ruth blush. Needless to say, we were honored to be invited up to the house to go visit. We had a great time and it was fun to see a house still under construction. It's so very different from what you go through back at home; the materials, the actual construction etc. We had a really good time and are all eye-balling the place once it comes on the market.
We gave each other a collective "Eh" when the topic of JJ's came up. Instead, we went back to the house to clean out the fridge. Most of the remaining leftovers were eaten and we spent another evening on the deck, watching the stars, making up names for constellations and using the house's telescope to spy on people at the Westin and on boats in the harbor.
We'd rounded the final corner and were in the home stretch. Tomorrow was getaway day for us.
What joy would it hold?
Saturday July 31
When the clock went past 12:30AM, and nobody was bug-covered and banging on my door, I knew we were already doing better than we had done in 2008.
The night before, I'd developed an idea. On Saturday, we were to head off island and to The Marriott on St Thomas. After the less-than-desirable experience S and I had when trying to procure food in 2008, I took matters in to my own hands.
I cut up the remaining steak and chicken and a good deal of the remaining cheese. They went into bags. The remaining red wine, flavored rum and Cruzan went into empty water bottles (marked on the top in Sharpie to keep them straight). The remaining OJ and Cranberry juice also went into bottles. I'd just made us a bar and dinner. It would beat whatever the hotel threw at us.
We woke up and packed. We'd been told we could stay at the house a few hours extra; nobody was coming in. When I asked The Suttons if I could hold the car an extra hour I was told "NO!!!" Ok lady...I getcha loud and clear.
We dropped the Jeep off before 10...not wanting to be late or even close to late. We dropped the bags at Connections and set out into town. We had business to attend to.
A stop at St John Spice lightened our load and our wallets. I had a gift card, so my bill wasn't that bad. But, I found some nice new spices and loaded up on sauces that you can't find at home. We were invited upstairs into the inner sanctum and got to help Ruth in her backsplash selections.
There was dancing.
We went downstairs to Freebird. We'd told TheKid before the trip that she could get a hook bracelet if she wanted one AND promised to take care of it. She got one and S got some more toe rings, a cute silver petroglyph bracelet and some silver turtle earrings. While talking to the owners about how much we liked the new store, I mentioned that we had to go to Patton to choke on the price of a really cute diamond palm tree we'd seen earlier in the week.
"Palm tree? Like this?" Out came a slightly smaller version of what we'd seen; a white gold palm tree lined in wee little diamonds. My Amex never made it back in my wallet after the purchase of the bracelet and silver trinkets.
T and C also bought hook bracelets. At this point, only S lacks one, but she's got a petroglyph bracelet from Freebird that looks like a traditional hook. Damage done, we had to go back to Mongoose.
Should anyone care, please let me talk about having an easy last day. As we were shopping and wandering about aimlessly, the 10:00 ferry was loading. About 47,000 people were trying to get on it and they were all pissed off. I was once one of them.
"Why don't they open the ticket counter until 9:55?"
"I'm going to call someone when we get home about this!"
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
"Mooooooooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmm....it's hoooooooooottttttttttttt"
Yup...if you can, stay on St Thomas the last night. It's way better.
We picked up a bushel of genips in the park and TheKid and I spit seeds out as we walked. Back at Mongoose, we stopped to look at the palm tree. It was larger but was also 2.5X the price. Good thing I opened my big mouth at Freebird.
The ladies had another shirt to buy or some bullshit, so I went to go buy my birthday present. My office currently has a large metal Virgin Islands Pale Ale sign. On my visit, I noticed that they not only had 4 new beers; they had 4 metal signs. So, I bought 4 small signs to hang up in the office on my "Wall of beer" (I love working from home). TheKid and T started to melt down (neither has ANY tolerance for shopping) so I suggested an early lunch.
Thank the Maker for the Deli Grotto. (All St John fans are nodding). Not only is the A/C set to "cut glass", but the food is great. We all settled into some large sandwiches and had a relaxing lunch. With full bellies, we went back to Connections and to the 1:00 ferry. It was time to say goodbye to St John.
The trip had been a success. Sure, the "getting there" sucked, but we made it and had gotten the bad luck out of the way. There wasn't anything on the trip that could have gone better. Sure, I needed 2 more days to check a few more things off the list, but we all agreed that we didn't need to go find a new island. We'd be back and could do other things then.
The Redemption Tour had been a success.
Now all we had to do was survive St Thomas.
Ah...St Thomas. I tolerate thee like the DMV. I'd prefer not to have you in my life, but I need you. You serve a purpose. You have an airport. I can't think of anything else good about you.
We spent some time thinking up slogans for the St Thomas Tourism Board. Here are a few:
St Thomas! Marginally cleaner than the DR!
St Thomas! Where it's socially acceptable to grind on your wife at the hotel pool!
St Thomas! It's like Seaside...only hotter!
St Thomas! If you're a douchebag, you're welcome here!
Ugh...and, yes, we had chosen to stay a night here. Because, it's a lot better than rushing across the islands to get to the airport.
We arrived at the Marriott. I had prepped the group to be ready for anything.
**Disclosure**
When this is over, I'll share with you not only my letter to Marriott but their response. Until then...
**Disclosure**
We got to the hotel and dropped our bags. I went into the cooler and as I sang the Beverly Hillbillies theme, extracted a few bottles of rum and moved them to the smaller cooler. C looked in horror as I sang and did this...in the hotel's front doorway.
I let them know we had arrived. As expected, our rooms were not ready. We went to the fitness center to change and then went out to the pool...and stepped into an episode of Jersey Shore.
(Breathe in...breathe out...it's only one night)
Everywhere we looked were people who looked like they belonged on the Jersey Shore. Roided up guys in plaid shorts and DG sunglasses. On their arms were orange women in white bathing suits that accentuated their stretch marks and beer guts. We found a spot near the pool and got into the Black Lagoon...I mean the lovely outdoor pool. After a while, we had thirst. $34 later, we had 4 cans of beer and a virgin pina collada. Ahh...resorts. There's nothing like them.
Stop looking at me that way. I'm allowed to bitch. Until this point, there hadn't been any bitching in over a week. After a while, we decided to go get our rooms. I had messages saying they were ready, so we were all set.
"Hi...I'm here to check in. I understand my rooms are ready" I was handed 2 sets of keys...to rooms on different floors. Now, I'd called the hotel twice to confirm that I had reserved rooms "close to each other". When told "They're only one floor apart", Angry Hotel Rob came out. I asked, quite firmly, that they honor my request...the request that the guy had read to me and had on his screen. After some time, I got 2 rooms on the same floor. Up we went.
We got to our room and I was immediately made to feel like someone using points. We had a shitty room. Sure, I could have upgraded us for a hundred bucks or so, but I was trying to do this on the cheap. I'm sure rooms 1645 and 1651 are designated for points users. There's no other explanation. I looked at our bathroom and was not disappointed. The ceiling in the shower was rotted and collapsing. Just as I had expected (I am 100% serious here. I knew this was gonna happen). There was also no ventilation in the bathroom. That's always a nice feature. Despite this, we all showered. While S was showering, T and C showed up.
Their room had no hand towels, bath mat or washcloth. In their place was a plastic knife on the bathroom floor.
I went to the fridge and opened up the bar. As I poured C a drink she let me know that, while most of the time I was irritating and twitchy, at times, I could still amaze her. I may have looked like a goon out in the lobby moving my bottles around, but we had booze! T had some wine and we all settled in with our drinks. After a while, I busted out the food and we more or less ate dinner in the room. TheKid consumed an entire bag of tortilla chips and salsa. We didn't really care.
T, S, TheKid and I went out to go for a walk. I wanted to visit the desk and show off the pictures I had taken of the shower. The guy on the desk was horrified. To his credit, he asked if we wanted to change rooms. I declined, knowing that moving all 5 of us would have been impossible...plus...I had a plan.
We walked around, noticing just how filthy the hotel was and then went back to the room for a nightcap. We all went to bed early. Sunday was coming. Sunday was travel day.
When the clock went past 12:30AM, and nobody was bug-covered and banging on my door, I knew we were already doing better than we had done in 2008.
The night before, I'd developed an idea. On Saturday, we were to head off island and to The Marriott on St Thomas. After the less-than-desirable experience S and I had when trying to procure food in 2008, I took matters in to my own hands.
I cut up the remaining steak and chicken and a good deal of the remaining cheese. They went into bags. The remaining red wine, flavored rum and Cruzan went into empty water bottles (marked on the top in Sharpie to keep them straight). The remaining OJ and Cranberry juice also went into bottles. I'd just made us a bar and dinner. It would beat whatever the hotel threw at us.
We woke up and packed. We'd been told we could stay at the house a few hours extra; nobody was coming in. When I asked The Suttons if I could hold the car an extra hour I was told "NO!!!" Ok lady...I getcha loud and clear.
We dropped the Jeep off before 10...not wanting to be late or even close to late. We dropped the bags at Connections and set out into town. We had business to attend to.
A stop at St John Spice lightened our load and our wallets. I had a gift card, so my bill wasn't that bad. But, I found some nice new spices and loaded up on sauces that you can't find at home. We were invited upstairs into the inner sanctum and got to help Ruth in her backsplash selections.
There was dancing.
We went downstairs to Freebird. We'd told TheKid before the trip that she could get a hook bracelet if she wanted one AND promised to take care of it. She got one and S got some more toe rings, a cute silver petroglyph bracelet and some silver turtle earrings. While talking to the owners about how much we liked the new store, I mentioned that we had to go to Patton to choke on the price of a really cute diamond palm tree we'd seen earlier in the week.
"Palm tree? Like this?" Out came a slightly smaller version of what we'd seen; a white gold palm tree lined in wee little diamonds. My Amex never made it back in my wallet after the purchase of the bracelet and silver trinkets.
T and C also bought hook bracelets. At this point, only S lacks one, but she's got a petroglyph bracelet from Freebird that looks like a traditional hook. Damage done, we had to go back to Mongoose.
Should anyone care, please let me talk about having an easy last day. As we were shopping and wandering about aimlessly, the 10:00 ferry was loading. About 47,000 people were trying to get on it and they were all pissed off. I was once one of them.
"Why don't they open the ticket counter until 9:55?"
"I'm going to call someone when we get home about this!"
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
"Mooooooooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmm....it's hoooooooooottttttttttttt"
Yup...if you can, stay on St Thomas the last night. It's way better.
We picked up a bushel of genips in the park and TheKid and I spit seeds out as we walked. Back at Mongoose, we stopped to look at the palm tree. It was larger but was also 2.5X the price. Good thing I opened my big mouth at Freebird.
The ladies had another shirt to buy or some bullshit, so I went to go buy my birthday present. My office currently has a large metal Virgin Islands Pale Ale sign. On my visit, I noticed that they not only had 4 new beers; they had 4 metal signs. So, I bought 4 small signs to hang up in the office on my "Wall of beer" (I love working from home). TheKid and T started to melt down (neither has ANY tolerance for shopping) so I suggested an early lunch.
Thank the Maker for the Deli Grotto. (All St John fans are nodding). Not only is the A/C set to "cut glass", but the food is great. We all settled into some large sandwiches and had a relaxing lunch. With full bellies, we went back to Connections and to the 1:00 ferry. It was time to say goodbye to St John.
The trip had been a success. Sure, the "getting there" sucked, but we made it and had gotten the bad luck out of the way. There wasn't anything on the trip that could have gone better. Sure, I needed 2 more days to check a few more things off the list, but we all agreed that we didn't need to go find a new island. We'd be back and could do other things then.
The Redemption Tour had been a success.
Now all we had to do was survive St Thomas.
Ah...St Thomas. I tolerate thee like the DMV. I'd prefer not to have you in my life, but I need you. You serve a purpose. You have an airport. I can't think of anything else good about you.
We spent some time thinking up slogans for the St Thomas Tourism Board. Here are a few:
St Thomas! Marginally cleaner than the DR!
St Thomas! Where it's socially acceptable to grind on your wife at the hotel pool!
St Thomas! It's like Seaside...only hotter!
St Thomas! If you're a douchebag, you're welcome here!
Ugh...and, yes, we had chosen to stay a night here. Because, it's a lot better than rushing across the islands to get to the airport.
We arrived at the Marriott. I had prepped the group to be ready for anything.
**Disclosure**
When this is over, I'll share with you not only my letter to Marriott but their response. Until then...
**Disclosure**
We got to the hotel and dropped our bags. I went into the cooler and as I sang the Beverly Hillbillies theme, extracted a few bottles of rum and moved them to the smaller cooler. C looked in horror as I sang and did this...in the hotel's front doorway.
I let them know we had arrived. As expected, our rooms were not ready. We went to the fitness center to change and then went out to the pool...and stepped into an episode of Jersey Shore.
(Breathe in...breathe out...it's only one night)
Everywhere we looked were people who looked like they belonged on the Jersey Shore. Roided up guys in plaid shorts and DG sunglasses. On their arms were orange women in white bathing suits that accentuated their stretch marks and beer guts. We found a spot near the pool and got into the Black Lagoon...I mean the lovely outdoor pool. After a while, we had thirst. $34 later, we had 4 cans of beer and a virgin pina collada. Ahh...resorts. There's nothing like them.
Stop looking at me that way. I'm allowed to bitch. Until this point, there hadn't been any bitching in over a week. After a while, we decided to go get our rooms. I had messages saying they were ready, so we were all set.
"Hi...I'm here to check in. I understand my rooms are ready" I was handed 2 sets of keys...to rooms on different floors. Now, I'd called the hotel twice to confirm that I had reserved rooms "close to each other". When told "They're only one floor apart", Angry Hotel Rob came out. I asked, quite firmly, that they honor my request...the request that the guy had read to me and had on his screen. After some time, I got 2 rooms on the same floor. Up we went.
We got to our room and I was immediately made to feel like someone using points. We had a shitty room. Sure, I could have upgraded us for a hundred bucks or so, but I was trying to do this on the cheap. I'm sure rooms 1645 and 1651 are designated for points users. There's no other explanation. I looked at our bathroom and was not disappointed. The ceiling in the shower was rotted and collapsing. Just as I had expected (I am 100% serious here. I knew this was gonna happen). There was also no ventilation in the bathroom. That's always a nice feature. Despite this, we all showered. While S was showering, T and C showed up.
Their room had no hand towels, bath mat or washcloth. In their place was a plastic knife on the bathroom floor.
I went to the fridge and opened up the bar. As I poured C a drink she let me know that, while most of the time I was irritating and twitchy, at times, I could still amaze her. I may have looked like a goon out in the lobby moving my bottles around, but we had booze! T had some wine and we all settled in with our drinks. After a while, I busted out the food and we more or less ate dinner in the room. TheKid consumed an entire bag of tortilla chips and salsa. We didn't really care.
T, S, TheKid and I went out to go for a walk. I wanted to visit the desk and show off the pictures I had taken of the shower. The guy on the desk was horrified. To his credit, he asked if we wanted to change rooms. I declined, knowing that moving all 5 of us would have been impossible...plus...I had a plan.
We walked around, noticing just how filthy the hotel was and then went back to the room for a nightcap. We all went to bed early. Sunday was coming. Sunday was travel day.
Sunday August 1
We all woke up early. I hadn't slept well and was feeling nauseous. Nothing special; just the last day of vacation jitters. It happens to me no matter where I go. In any event, we weren't meeting T and C until 9:00 to go to breakfast, so the 3 of us took a walk.
We walked down to the Morningstar and I wondered how much better our evening would have been if we'd sprung for the room upgrade. Alas, I was too damned cheap to do so. The rest of the resort isn't bad; in fact the Morningstar is quite nice. But, that's not where we were staying.
We met at 9:00 and made our way to breakfast. The hotel had a lovely buffet set up (it wasn't that lovely) and we all ate. TheKid, naturally, consumed her weight in bacon. When the bill came, C wanted to pay. I had to sign for it and we all choked when we saw the total: over $100 for 4 adults and one child to eat breakfast. Since I wasn't done with my bitching at the hotel, I took my camera back to the front desk to seek out something...
The woman I saw was none too pleased by the photos. I explained, oh so calmly, that I was VERY disappointed in the hotel, not just as a gold Member but as a human being. When I explained that I had spoken to someone the night before she asked what compensation I had been offered. When I told her that I was disappointed to say that none had been offered, she wiped my tab clean. There went the overpriced beer and breakfast. I was somewhat pleased with the hotel. I was not done yet. But, I got all I could while on the grounds. Anything else would have to come once I got home.
Yes...I am that kind of person. But, I used to be a VERY loyal Marriott customer and wanted my pound of flesh from them.
We split up, the 3 of us to the pool and T and C to their room. They had a 2:30 flight and didn't want to go to the pool, sweat and then have to rush and shower to get to the airport. We checked our bags at the not-secure bag drop and had a soak in the sun. TheKid spent most of the time playing foosball. I can't explain the kid. Big pool...sunny Caribbean day...she plays foosball...against herself.
S and I sunned and people watched. What a horror show.
At 11:45, we bid farewell to C and T and then went back for more sun and some rum and Cokes. I mean...I had the supplies on me still...why not use them?
At about 1:30, we went to the Fitness Center, showered and got a cab to the airport. Our flight was at 4:40, but we wanted to give plenty of time. I had a feeling the airport would be easy. There are 3-4 flights that all leave between 2-3, so the airport is usually a mob scene between Noon and 1. We were behind the rush.
We checked in, went through Customs...only after explaining very simply to TheKid to keep her yap shut. We were bringing the remaining genips home and didn't need her babbling about it. We were through security in no time and settled in at the bar to wait. We had one last Carib, did some duty free booze shopping and waited for our flight. When it was time they called First Class passengers. We got up.
That's right, baby. No crackers for us! First Class BABY! Delta had done their usual bullshit on the return flight and it was cheaper to fly up front than with the peasants. So, we sat up front. TheKid was quite pleased. She and I sat together and S sat across the aisle from me. We boarded, had a little vino and got ready to take off.
We were off on time and arcing over Charlotte Amalie in no time. The plane had seat back monitors, so TheKid was glued to the screen as soon as we hit 10,000 feet. Some more wine eased S and I into the flight. A little while later, it was meal time. Before we took off the Flight Attendant came to our seats and confirmed that TheKid was who he thought she was. I had planned a surprise for her.
While the adults got was supposed to be Caribbean chicken with coconut rice (5 pieces of overcooked white meat in an orange sauce...with mashed potatoes), TheKid got a kid's meal. I'd planned this little surprise months in advance as one last surprise for her. She got carrots, fruit salad, cookies, chicken fingers and steak fries. She was over the moon.
The flight was lovely and we watched movies and relaxed. First Class really is a lot better. A LOT.
Upon landing in ATL, I got on my phone and checked. Surprisingly, we were delayed into RDU. Our 10:45 flight was now showing 11:20. We had a long night in front of us. It was barely 8:00 and we now were facing a 3+ hour layover. As we walked through the terminal, I spotted the big board. I told the ladies to walk ahead while I checked something. I had a hunch.
See...if we were late going out due to weather, maybe everyone else was. "AH-HA! I love it when I'm right!"
I caught up to the girls and told them to pick up the pace and follow me to gate 27. I had a plan. I arrived at gate 27 as they were boarding...a flight to RDU. There was a sliver of hope that we could get on the flight. I knew the odds were slim, but it was worth the try. They were clearing standby's as I arrived. That made me sad. Then someone said there were 21 empty seats and 14 standby passengers. That made me happy! I got to the counter and explained that we'd just landed. Could we get on this flight?
"Did you check bags in St Thomas?"
"Yes...but I'll go to RDU in the morning to get them!"
"I'm sure you would, but the TSA won't allow you to fly without your bags" (As an aside, I've flown without my bags before...I just didn't know at the time I was doing so...)
SHIT!
I was so close. If only we didn't need 50 hot dogs, 16 chicken breasts, steak, breakfast etc. You know the drill. My luggage had nabbed me. So, we settled in for a long wait. I read for a while and the ladies slept. At about 11:00, the moved us to a new gate. At 11:20. They told us we'd leave at 11:45. At 11:45, we finally boarded. We sat down, pulled blankets on ourselves and immediately went to sleep. I can't tell you how the flight went. I woke up on final to RDU.
We landed, got our bags after an interminable wait and finally got home at about 2:15AM. It had been a long-ass day. Kinda like the one we'd had 8 days before. Only, this time we weren't arriving in paradise. On a positive note, we'd see Chicken soon.
We'd made it. We had our bags and our sanity. We were speaking to each other. It had been, in my opinion, the best trip to St John yet.
I can only hope to exceed it in 2012.
We all woke up early. I hadn't slept well and was feeling nauseous. Nothing special; just the last day of vacation jitters. It happens to me no matter where I go. In any event, we weren't meeting T and C until 9:00 to go to breakfast, so the 3 of us took a walk.
We walked down to the Morningstar and I wondered how much better our evening would have been if we'd sprung for the room upgrade. Alas, I was too damned cheap to do so. The rest of the resort isn't bad; in fact the Morningstar is quite nice. But, that's not where we were staying.
We met at 9:00 and made our way to breakfast. The hotel had a lovely buffet set up (it wasn't that lovely) and we all ate. TheKid, naturally, consumed her weight in bacon. When the bill came, C wanted to pay. I had to sign for it and we all choked when we saw the total: over $100 for 4 adults and one child to eat breakfast. Since I wasn't done with my bitching at the hotel, I took my camera back to the front desk to seek out something...
The woman I saw was none too pleased by the photos. I explained, oh so calmly, that I was VERY disappointed in the hotel, not just as a gold Member but as a human being. When I explained that I had spoken to someone the night before she asked what compensation I had been offered. When I told her that I was disappointed to say that none had been offered, she wiped my tab clean. There went the overpriced beer and breakfast. I was somewhat pleased with the hotel. I was not done yet. But, I got all I could while on the grounds. Anything else would have to come once I got home.
Yes...I am that kind of person. But, I used to be a VERY loyal Marriott customer and wanted my pound of flesh from them.
We split up, the 3 of us to the pool and T and C to their room. They had a 2:30 flight and didn't want to go to the pool, sweat and then have to rush and shower to get to the airport. We checked our bags at the not-secure bag drop and had a soak in the sun. TheKid spent most of the time playing foosball. I can't explain the kid. Big pool...sunny Caribbean day...she plays foosball...against herself.
S and I sunned and people watched. What a horror show.
At 11:45, we bid farewell to C and T and then went back for more sun and some rum and Cokes. I mean...I had the supplies on me still...why not use them?
At about 1:30, we went to the Fitness Center, showered and got a cab to the airport. Our flight was at 4:40, but we wanted to give plenty of time. I had a feeling the airport would be easy. There are 3-4 flights that all leave between 2-3, so the airport is usually a mob scene between Noon and 1. We were behind the rush.
We checked in, went through Customs...only after explaining very simply to TheKid to keep her yap shut. We were bringing the remaining genips home and didn't need her babbling about it. We were through security in no time and settled in at the bar to wait. We had one last Carib, did some duty free booze shopping and waited for our flight. When it was time they called First Class passengers. We got up.
That's right, baby. No crackers for us! First Class BABY! Delta had done their usual bullshit on the return flight and it was cheaper to fly up front than with the peasants. So, we sat up front. TheKid was quite pleased. She and I sat together and S sat across the aisle from me. We boarded, had a little vino and got ready to take off.
We were off on time and arcing over Charlotte Amalie in no time. The plane had seat back monitors, so TheKid was glued to the screen as soon as we hit 10,000 feet. Some more wine eased S and I into the flight. A little while later, it was meal time. Before we took off the Flight Attendant came to our seats and confirmed that TheKid was who he thought she was. I had planned a surprise for her.
While the adults got was supposed to be Caribbean chicken with coconut rice (5 pieces of overcooked white meat in an orange sauce...with mashed potatoes), TheKid got a kid's meal. I'd planned this little surprise months in advance as one last surprise for her. She got carrots, fruit salad, cookies, chicken fingers and steak fries. She was over the moon.
The flight was lovely and we watched movies and relaxed. First Class really is a lot better. A LOT.
Upon landing in ATL, I got on my phone and checked. Surprisingly, we were delayed into RDU. Our 10:45 flight was now showing 11:20. We had a long night in front of us. It was barely 8:00 and we now were facing a 3+ hour layover. As we walked through the terminal, I spotted the big board. I told the ladies to walk ahead while I checked something. I had a hunch.
See...if we were late going out due to weather, maybe everyone else was. "AH-HA! I love it when I'm right!"
I caught up to the girls and told them to pick up the pace and follow me to gate 27. I had a plan. I arrived at gate 27 as they were boarding...a flight to RDU. There was a sliver of hope that we could get on the flight. I knew the odds were slim, but it was worth the try. They were clearing standby's as I arrived. That made me sad. Then someone said there were 21 empty seats and 14 standby passengers. That made me happy! I got to the counter and explained that we'd just landed. Could we get on this flight?
"Did you check bags in St Thomas?"
"Yes...but I'll go to RDU in the morning to get them!"
"I'm sure you would, but the TSA won't allow you to fly without your bags" (As an aside, I've flown without my bags before...I just didn't know at the time I was doing so...)
SHIT!
I was so close. If only we didn't need 50 hot dogs, 16 chicken breasts, steak, breakfast etc. You know the drill. My luggage had nabbed me. So, we settled in for a long wait. I read for a while and the ladies slept. At about 11:00, the moved us to a new gate. At 11:20. They told us we'd leave at 11:45. At 11:45, we finally boarded. We sat down, pulled blankets on ourselves and immediately went to sleep. I can't tell you how the flight went. I woke up on final to RDU.
We landed, got our bags after an interminable wait and finally got home at about 2:15AM. It had been a long-ass day. Kinda like the one we'd had 8 days before. Only, this time we weren't arriving in paradise. On a positive note, we'd see Chicken soon.
We'd made it. We had our bags and our sanity. We were speaking to each other. It had been, in my opinion, the best trip to St John yet.
I can only hope to exceed it in 2012.
**My letter to Marriott**
I had been emailed a few days prior to our arrival by a vacation coordinator. He works with Gold and Platinum members. I had a name. I emailed him.
<i>
Curtis,
Thank you for writing back to me.
I can honestly say that I have never been as disappointed in a hotel as I was with your property on Saturday the 31st. I'm upset to make such a strong statement, but I can't come up with a less dramatic statement.
We arrived at the hotel from St John and changed to use the pools. A short time later, I got 2 calls; our rooms were ready. My only room-related request was that our 2 rooms be close to each other. I had confirmed this over the phone in advance of the trip and expected that it would be met.
We were given rooms on 2 different floors. When I mentioned my request I was told "They're only one floor apart". I stood firm and asked that the rooms be changed. Sometime later, we were given 2 rooms on the 6th floor; 1651 for my family and 1645 for our friends.
Attached are pictures I took of the rooms. The condition of the shower stall in our room (1651) was, in a word, appalling. If I hadn't had such a hard time getting rooms to my request, I would have gone straight to the desk to change. However, I made the decision to stay; it seemed like it would have been harder to move the rooms.
At dinner time, I took some photos to the front desk and spoke to the manager on duty. I believe his name was Hector. He apologized for the condition of the room and offered to move us. I declined and told him how very disappointed we were. I also pointed out that the rest of the room was very dirty. Our feet turned black as soon as we walked on the floors. Additionally, room 1645 had no bath mat, wash cloths or hand towels.
As we spent the afternoon at the pool and walked the grounds, we noticed that the hotel seemed to be in shabby condition. There was visible dirt and disrepair by the pools, the pools were dirty, the walls had peeling paint, etc. I know that you can see any of these issues by walking the property; I need not bring them all to your attention.
I've stayed in a lot of Marriott hotels and what I love about them is their consistency. When I did a lot of travel for work, I knew that as long as I stayed at a Marriott property, I could expect a clean hotel, clean room and no surprises. Had I been spending my own money and not using points for this stay, I would have been appalled. As a group, we looked at the hotel guests who had spent a good deal of money to travel to St Thomas and stay at the Frenchman's Reef and felt bad for them. The condition of the hotel did not seem to warrant spending a few hundred dollars per night.
The following morning, at check out, I went back to the desk to speak to the Day Manager. I spoke to a young woman at the reception desk. When shown the pictures, she recoiled in horror. She asked me if we had been offered compensation for our stay. We had not been offered anything the night before. This woman was nice enough to wipe our room charges; a small bar tab and a breakfast tab. I appreciated that she did that.
With that, my confidence in the Marriott Brand has been diminished. My wife and I have discussed using some more points to celebrate her upcoming 40th birthday in Aruba. I can honestly say that I don't know if I can trust a Marriott Resort property. We were not happy with the overall appearance of the Frenchman's Reef.
I would like your assurance that Room 1651 will not be used until it has been repaired and cleaned. It is not fit to be used by any guest.
I would also like to know if the hotel has any response to my comments. I have been a loyal Marriott customer since I started traveling for business 5 years ago. I'd like to remain so, but now have doubts.
Thank you for taking time to listen to me and to hopefully look into the issues I have raised.</i>
Not bad, eh?
4 days later, I got this:
<i>Dear Mr. <i>I'm not giving you all my last name</i>,
First of all, I would like to thank you for taking the time to provide us with your feedback.
I am sorry we did not respond to your concerns before today.
After reading your letter and viewing the photos that you attached it is very clear to me why we did not create the resort experience that you had anticipated for your vacation. I wish to apologize to you and your family for the inconveniences you experienced. Marriott has very high standards for cleanliness, service and facilities and we, as a Marriott resort, are expected to deliver accordingly.
I understand that waiting for your room was frustrating and I am very sorry that you were not warmly welcomed and offered options to start enjoying your vacation. I am truly concerned about the seemingly arduous task to get you 2 rooms that were close together. I want to apologize for this confusion and reassure you that this is not our standard. We truly value our guests' experiences and make the best effort to accommodate any request within reason.
I regret that you observed that the maintenance and upkeep of our hotel and your room were not up to par. Our property is indeed an older resort building, and I truly regret that you were disappointed on the accommodations offered to you. However, since October 2005 we have been working on an update of public areas and the majority of our guest rooms, changing the rooms' furniture and refreshing the appearance of our bathrooms. This renovation process has almost been completed in Frenchman's Reef and our plan is to continue it in our rooms at Morning Star and finish it by the end of this year. We are very excited that our whole resort will have a renewed appearance.
I was also alarmed to learn that during your visit you perceived a lack of cleanliness in both pool areas. As a Marriott property, we have very high standards for cleanliness and the lack of it in any areas is not acceptable.
Rest assured that I will relay the issues of maintenance and cleanliness with the Management team and actions will be taken to avoid similar situations from occurring. We are focused on improving on a daily basis and we will consider your suggestions and recommendations.
Mr. NoName, I know I cannot change what happened during your stay but I do wish to somehow make up for what did not go well. I am not sure if you are planning another visit to St. Thomas in the near future, but I would appreciate the opportunity to welcome you back to our property. I would like to extend to you an invitation to spend 2 nights at our resort with our compliments. Rest assured that if you decide to visit us again, we will follow up to provide you with a wonderful stay.
If coming to St. Thomas is not on your plans Mr. FussyBritches, I want you to know that you are a very important customer to us and we would like you to continue choosing Marriott when traveling. I truly regret that you were displeased with your resort experience. As a good will gesture, I will reinstate to your Marriott Rewards account 35,000 points. I will await your confirmation on what would be the best option.
Again, I apologize for the inconveniences and I hope that in the future we will be able to serve you again and leave a different impression on you. Should you ever visit St. Thomas again, please do not hesitate to contact me.
Sincerely,
Curtis</i>
Today (August 9) I got email from someone else at the hotel offering me 50,000 points. Since I'm not a total asshole, I wrote back to them both, stating that it was unnecessary to give me 85,000 points. But, if they wanted, I'd happily take them all.
The bottom line: the hotel disappointed. In the end, Marriott stepped up big time and made right by me. When I left the hotel, I wanted my points back. The fact that I got the tab wiped too was a bonus. Some well-worded emails got me what I wanted all along.
I had been emailed a few days prior to our arrival by a vacation coordinator. He works with Gold and Platinum members. I had a name. I emailed him.
<i>
Curtis,
Thank you for writing back to me.
I can honestly say that I have never been as disappointed in a hotel as I was with your property on Saturday the 31st. I'm upset to make such a strong statement, but I can't come up with a less dramatic statement.
We arrived at the hotel from St John and changed to use the pools. A short time later, I got 2 calls; our rooms were ready. My only room-related request was that our 2 rooms be close to each other. I had confirmed this over the phone in advance of the trip and expected that it would be met.
We were given rooms on 2 different floors. When I mentioned my request I was told "They're only one floor apart". I stood firm and asked that the rooms be changed. Sometime later, we were given 2 rooms on the 6th floor; 1651 for my family and 1645 for our friends.
Attached are pictures I took of the rooms. The condition of the shower stall in our room (1651) was, in a word, appalling. If I hadn't had such a hard time getting rooms to my request, I would have gone straight to the desk to change. However, I made the decision to stay; it seemed like it would have been harder to move the rooms.
At dinner time, I took some photos to the front desk and spoke to the manager on duty. I believe his name was Hector. He apologized for the condition of the room and offered to move us. I declined and told him how very disappointed we were. I also pointed out that the rest of the room was very dirty. Our feet turned black as soon as we walked on the floors. Additionally, room 1645 had no bath mat, wash cloths or hand towels.
As we spent the afternoon at the pool and walked the grounds, we noticed that the hotel seemed to be in shabby condition. There was visible dirt and disrepair by the pools, the pools were dirty, the walls had peeling paint, etc. I know that you can see any of these issues by walking the property; I need not bring them all to your attention.
I've stayed in a lot of Marriott hotels and what I love about them is their consistency. When I did a lot of travel for work, I knew that as long as I stayed at a Marriott property, I could expect a clean hotel, clean room and no surprises. Had I been spending my own money and not using points for this stay, I would have been appalled. As a group, we looked at the hotel guests who had spent a good deal of money to travel to St Thomas and stay at the Frenchman's Reef and felt bad for them. The condition of the hotel did not seem to warrant spending a few hundred dollars per night.
The following morning, at check out, I went back to the desk to speak to the Day Manager. I spoke to a young woman at the reception desk. When shown the pictures, she recoiled in horror. She asked me if we had been offered compensation for our stay. We had not been offered anything the night before. This woman was nice enough to wipe our room charges; a small bar tab and a breakfast tab. I appreciated that she did that.
With that, my confidence in the Marriott Brand has been diminished. My wife and I have discussed using some more points to celebrate her upcoming 40th birthday in Aruba. I can honestly say that I don't know if I can trust a Marriott Resort property. We were not happy with the overall appearance of the Frenchman's Reef.
I would like your assurance that Room 1651 will not be used until it has been repaired and cleaned. It is not fit to be used by any guest.
I would also like to know if the hotel has any response to my comments. I have been a loyal Marriott customer since I started traveling for business 5 years ago. I'd like to remain so, but now have doubts.
Thank you for taking time to listen to me and to hopefully look into the issues I have raised.</i>
Not bad, eh?
4 days later, I got this:
<i>Dear Mr. <i>I'm not giving you all my last name</i>,
First of all, I would like to thank you for taking the time to provide us with your feedback.
I am sorry we did not respond to your concerns before today.
After reading your letter and viewing the photos that you attached it is very clear to me why we did not create the resort experience that you had anticipated for your vacation. I wish to apologize to you and your family for the inconveniences you experienced. Marriott has very high standards for cleanliness, service and facilities and we, as a Marriott resort, are expected to deliver accordingly.
I understand that waiting for your room was frustrating and I am very sorry that you were not warmly welcomed and offered options to start enjoying your vacation. I am truly concerned about the seemingly arduous task to get you 2 rooms that were close together. I want to apologize for this confusion and reassure you that this is not our standard. We truly value our guests' experiences and make the best effort to accommodate any request within reason.
I regret that you observed that the maintenance and upkeep of our hotel and your room were not up to par. Our property is indeed an older resort building, and I truly regret that you were disappointed on the accommodations offered to you. However, since October 2005 we have been working on an update of public areas and the majority of our guest rooms, changing the rooms' furniture and refreshing the appearance of our bathrooms. This renovation process has almost been completed in Frenchman's Reef and our plan is to continue it in our rooms at Morning Star and finish it by the end of this year. We are very excited that our whole resort will have a renewed appearance.
I was also alarmed to learn that during your visit you perceived a lack of cleanliness in both pool areas. As a Marriott property, we have very high standards for cleanliness and the lack of it in any areas is not acceptable.
Rest assured that I will relay the issues of maintenance and cleanliness with the Management team and actions will be taken to avoid similar situations from occurring. We are focused on improving on a daily basis and we will consider your suggestions and recommendations.
Mr. NoName, I know I cannot change what happened during your stay but I do wish to somehow make up for what did not go well. I am not sure if you are planning another visit to St. Thomas in the near future, but I would appreciate the opportunity to welcome you back to our property. I would like to extend to you an invitation to spend 2 nights at our resort with our compliments. Rest assured that if you decide to visit us again, we will follow up to provide you with a wonderful stay.
If coming to St. Thomas is not on your plans Mr. FussyBritches, I want you to know that you are a very important customer to us and we would like you to continue choosing Marriott when traveling. I truly regret that you were displeased with your resort experience. As a good will gesture, I will reinstate to your Marriott Rewards account 35,000 points. I will await your confirmation on what would be the best option.
Again, I apologize for the inconveniences and I hope that in the future we will be able to serve you again and leave a different impression on you. Should you ever visit St. Thomas again, please do not hesitate to contact me.
Sincerely,
Curtis</i>
Today (August 9) I got email from someone else at the hotel offering me 50,000 points. Since I'm not a total asshole, I wrote back to them both, stating that it was unnecessary to give me 85,000 points. But, if they wanted, I'd happily take them all.
The bottom line: the hotel disappointed. In the end, Marriott stepped up big time and made right by me. When I left the hotel, I wanted my points back. The fact that I got the tab wiped too was a bonus. Some well-worded emails got me what I wanted all along.
Last edited by pipanale on Tue Aug 10, 2010 11:49 am, edited 1 time in total.
Great start so far Pip, regardless of the travel woes. Nothing like that morning after that long travel day when you grab your cofeee, tea, breakfast, etc., sit outside, and take in the view.
I can also relate and wholeheartedly agree with the statement about the hot dog rolls. We encountered a similar situation one time when we tried to find ketchup. The entire island was devoid of ketchup. But,as semi-regular St John visitors we laughed about it, improvised, and moved on. Only on St. John....
I can also relate and wholeheartedly agree with the statement about the hot dog rolls. We encountered a similar situation one time when we tried to find ketchup. The entire island was devoid of ketchup. But,as semi-regular St John visitors we laughed about it, improvised, and moved on. Only on St. John....
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SOonthebeach
- Posts: 1707
- Joined: Tue Jan 19, 2010 10:01 am
- Location: Texas
