First visit to St John
Posted: Wed Sep 21, 2011 9:43 am
I was replying to a post just a minute ago and it brought back memories about our first trip and especially our first ferry ride.
I remember the first time we stayed on StJ. We flew in from San Juan. It was exciting to watch out the window of our small commuter plane when we landed at Cyril King. We arrived late (must have been about 7 or 8pm) and took a taxi to Red Hook. The streets seemed like a dark maze to me then. The Red Hook terminal was just a parking lot with a ticket booth where we waited for our ferry. It arrived like a lit carnival ride in the night. I think I will always remember that ride while watching the twinkling lights of StJ get closer under the flourescent lights of the old open-sided ferry. We seemed to be the only tourists on that ride. There was no terminal, no luggage check, No A/C, no windows (or perhaps they were all just open), no security gate at the StJ dock. We were young and embarking on an unknown journey. The journey got even more exciting following the owner from the dock to our villa (Woodrose) in the darkness. We were awed each day we ventured out to new parts of the island. Our first day we went as far as Fish Bay. It was close and the owner of Woodrose was building at the water and suggested it was a good snorkel. We saw eagle rays at what seemed arms length, we swam in schools of colorful fish, when we saw our first shark it was time for us to find dry land. I thought I would never get my wife back in the water. We got lost, made new friends, picked up hitch-hikers and learned more about the island everyday. I am sure that we landed one of our hitch-hikers in trouble. We picked up this older couple who were walking to Cinnamon from Leinster. They had been returning to Cinnamon Bay each year for many years. They insisted that we see the campground. I thought it was great to be able to camp in this paradise but my wife mentioned that it is nice to have a private hot shower each day. The camping wife agreed and asked how much we had to spend for a house. The look on her face when she found out that it was little more than what they paid for their yearly campsite was priceless. We drove over ridges with narrow cut-throughs on terrible dirt roads that got even worse when a rain shower made it a muddy mess for your trip back. That little rock with terrible roads, friendly people and few ammenities took hold of us that trip and hasn't let go.
I remember the first time we stayed on StJ. We flew in from San Juan. It was exciting to watch out the window of our small commuter plane when we landed at Cyril King. We arrived late (must have been about 7 or 8pm) and took a taxi to Red Hook. The streets seemed like a dark maze to me then. The Red Hook terminal was just a parking lot with a ticket booth where we waited for our ferry. It arrived like a lit carnival ride in the night. I think I will always remember that ride while watching the twinkling lights of StJ get closer under the flourescent lights of the old open-sided ferry. We seemed to be the only tourists on that ride. There was no terminal, no luggage check, No A/C, no windows (or perhaps they were all just open), no security gate at the StJ dock. We were young and embarking on an unknown journey. The journey got even more exciting following the owner from the dock to our villa (Woodrose) in the darkness. We were awed each day we ventured out to new parts of the island. Our first day we went as far as Fish Bay. It was close and the owner of Woodrose was building at the water and suggested it was a good snorkel. We saw eagle rays at what seemed arms length, we swam in schools of colorful fish, when we saw our first shark it was time for us to find dry land. I thought I would never get my wife back in the water. We got lost, made new friends, picked up hitch-hikers and learned more about the island everyday. I am sure that we landed one of our hitch-hikers in trouble. We picked up this older couple who were walking to Cinnamon from Leinster. They had been returning to Cinnamon Bay each year for many years. They insisted that we see the campground. I thought it was great to be able to camp in this paradise but my wife mentioned that it is nice to have a private hot shower each day. The camping wife agreed and asked how much we had to spend for a house. The look on her face when she found out that it was little more than what they paid for their yearly campsite was priceless. We drove over ridges with narrow cut-throughs on terrible dirt roads that got even worse when a rain shower made it a muddy mess for your trip back. That little rock with terrible roads, friendly people and few ammenities took hold of us that trip and hasn't let go.
