adventure

A Jutting Ram and Domesticated Equines

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We had three more full days to explore St. John’s and the Virgin Islands National Park  and I definitely wanted to fill them primarily with snorkeling and hiking. Our choice for Day #6 was the Salt Pond Bay Coral Reefs and the Rams Head hike, accessed from the beach on Salt Pond Bay. We had hoped for a more “private” snorkeling adventure  and opted to head east and south to the Salt Pond Reef in the south west part of St. John’s betting that the the driving distance and the 1/2 mile hike in would deter any crowds.

Domesticated Equine
Salt Pond

We were greeted at the trail head by a couple of the permanent  wild residents of St. John’s. –  a couple of stubborn and unpredictable domesticated equines (aka burros and donkeys) sauntering down the trail to Salt Pond Bay. Eventually they veered off into the scrub along the trail but I kept my eye out unsure of where they might pop up again. We made our way down the full sun, rocky, dusty half mile trail to Salt Pond Beach.  We came upon Salt Pond just before we approached the shoreline with a sandy strip separating the salt pond from the bay itself. Historically residents would harvest salt from ponds like this .

In  that the day was heating up and it was already 9:15am, we opted to make our way east and across Salt Pond Bay and the sand beach.  This section was easy until I reached “blue cobblestone beach, ” the nickname for the shoreline here of volcanic stones that have  a bluish-gray tint. Now it was slow careful steps so as not to roll an ankle on these rolling shifting stones with each  step a bit of a wobble and a clatter. But once back on firmer ground the trail began to climb up,  mostly in full sun, through dry coastal scrub, a plethora of the very  phallic Turk’s Cap Barrel Cacti, and views of the Caribbean’s turquoise waters.

This is windswept terrain was at its best and the wind sweeping across the trail at times tried its best to blow me over.  Ram Head can best be described as a dramatic headland jutting into the sea and the reward  for this  close to one mile hike is a 360-degree view of the surrounding waters.  Salt Pond Bay was sparkling with sapphire and ultramarine hues and the Atlantic sported a shimmering deeper blue color.  It was an exhilarating experience  standing atop the “ Ram”  with the wind sweeping across the “Head” and the ways crashing below.

Our hunch was right and we were fortunate that we didn’t have to share this  bay with an overdose of other snorkelers.  It was now time for snorkeling and time to face the awkward task of entry into this underwater world. It  should  be easy from this  sandy beach but donning the gear was not without its comedic side. Do I sit on the beach and don the fins?  But I recollect that when walking in them previously, I waddled like a penguin. So I waded out into shallow water at the beach midpoint and plunked myself down. It seemed to be going well as I  struggled to put on penguin shoe #1 until a small  wave arrived and not only moved me around but swept the other one towards shore. I somehow eventually managed to secure both flippers on to my feet,  secure the mask to my face, and get the snorkel into my mouth.  I  quite ungracefully tried a dolphin dive into the water resulting in getting a snorkel full of water and a mask that became an indoor pool for my face. Seems I forgot to push up the forehead hairs thus breaking the seal. But eventually success!  I was cruising along toward the rocky ledges of shoreline and its  coral gardens and reef fish. Parrot fish and blue tang abounded  and I was enjoying the metronome of sea fans. It was exhilarating.  

Exiting in the middle with its grassy beds, I was quite content with my adventure until I compared notes and my lame photos with Tasia’s and my few blue tang and blue parrot paled compared to her exquisitely captured images of a Longspine Squirelfish, a Threespot Damselfish, a Gray Angelfish, a Parrotfish, an Ocean Surgeonfish with an Foureye Butterflyfish, a school of Dwarf Round Herring, a Moon Jellyfish and a Hawksbill Sea Turtle. Clearly she is the expert photographer and I definitely qualify as the inexpert…though I am quite good at using Google Images to identify the fish she captured!

Following a very satisfying hiking and snorkeling adventure it was time to cruise on to Cruz Bay heading up route 107 to Coral Bay. I kept trying to film us traversing the road to hopefully capture a video and pictures of the road as it rises and falls along dry scrubby hillside replete with its uneven pavement, potholes and washed out edges as well as the occasional donkey or goats along the roadside. Not too captivating footage resulted. Passing through Coral Bay, a quiet village, we continued on route 10 twisting and climbing and dipping up and down the mountainside until we arrived in Cruz Bay and headed up to our villa for a chill afternoon and preparation for dining out.

Our dining choice was Morgan’s Mango Restaurant which features a Caribbean vibe as well as Caribbean food. They claim a bit of a mix of Creole, Bahamian, Cuban, Jamaican, Haitian, Puerto Rican and Mayan. I am not sure which cuisine inspired my “coconut panko encrusted fresh grouper sautéed in organic cold-pressed coconut oil until crisp on the outside & moist within— served with a white wine, coconut, lemongrass reduction a unique Caribbean blend of a potato/yuca mash & fresh seasonal vegetables.” Whichever island was the inspiration for our dishes , they were exceptional…and when sated it was then onward to the villa for a swim and relaxing poolside beneath a sky blanketed with stars.

Scuba? Snuba? Snorkel?

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A morning of tropical splendor was the way to ease into this day. I heard Tasia moving about and opening the blinds. I turned my head towards the window and I could see the palms swaying with the breeze and the harbor glistening blue beyond. After the first jolt of caffeine, served to me in bed by Tasia, the day was calling me outside. I stumbled out of the bedroom past my half-unpacked suitcase, belongings lying about and I ventured out to a much expanded view of the palms and sea. Sitting by the pool, coffee in hand, enjoying the tropical breezes, watching the boats dotting the Chocolate Hole Harbor was profoundly peaceful.

Time marched on and soon it was time to get ready for our first adventure on St. John’s which was to be the “Discover Scuba” dive offered by Low Key Water Sports. It advertises that  this dive option is  purported to be a quick and easy way to explore the underwater world.  We would to be able to complete two supervised dives. I had had a similar dive experience when on the Great Barrier Reef many years ago and assumed I could replicate that.  Wrong!  Quite wrong!

Before the dive we were required to learn the safety guidelines and skills needed to dive through an online PADI course. I completed it a few days before and even took notes  and reviewed the signals  the morning of the dive.  Our dive instructor , who would be accompanying us additionally reviewed everything en route to the dive site. I had a great vision of a fun experience swimming around and exploring. Upon arrival we were hooked into the equipment including a mask, snorkel, fins, regulator, buoyancy control device, dive gauges, and a tank. However, my adventure of swimming with the tropical fish was not quite the seamless  adventure I had anticipated.  

Dive #1: Gearing up was the first order of business.I was quite relieved that no wetsuits were needed as the water temperature was in the mid 80’s and stuffing oneself into a Neoprene corset is a challenge unto itself. Getting strapped into the BCD (Buoyancy Control Device) was awkward and then trying to remember which button was the inflator and deflator was the next challenge . Then, get on the clumsy fins and already fogged up mask. The first maneuver, once all geared up, was that of waddling towards the back edge of the boat to get into position for the plunge into the depths. I was aghast at how much the tank weighed. I am sure it was akin to carrying around a 25 cubic feet double door refrigerator on my back. The dive assistant was holding it up so I wouldn’t be performing a failed back flip on deck.  But I took the plunge and once in the water everything I had learned began to slip away. During the initial descent the pressure in my ears was at first manageable but a few feet down I began to experience what they call “barotrauma.” Sharp pain in both ears. The instructor led me through the equalization process and eventually it dissipated about 95% but my ear drums refused to feel totally comfortable. I was biting down hard on the regulator. Guess I was a bit anxious, but soon I began to relax and I was gliding around with the bright fish flickering about and observing that colorful cast of characters (better than in “Finding Nemo”) and the coral gardens. We were discouraged from taking our underwater cameras on the first dive so I do not have any evidence of having completed that dive ( just in case anyone choose to dispute the fact that I completed this dive). Removing the fins and then gripping the metal rungs,  I hauled myself out of the sea like a harbor seal in slow motion with the help of the dive assistant  latching onto this lighter weight tank (perhaps 38 pounds now instead of 40 pounds). Eventually we were all back up on the boat. . 

Dive #2: I sat on the edge of the seat as the crew prepped the tanks for the second dive. I kept pondering the ear issue. It wasn’t hurting but  I was a bit hesitant as I still felt pressure in my ears but not pain. I had done what I been taught about equalization on first dive but it had not completely helped. Should I go again? Do I listen to my body or follow my heart. You might have guessed I would make the more reckless choice.

So I again lumbered off the boat, tank in tow, looking like a like a lame penguin.    After plunging into the depths of only about 20 feet,  I knew immediately this would be a no go.  It felt like my ear drums were screeching and not wanting my ear drums to explode or implode, I signaled thumbs up after only one attempt at equalization. Already struggling with hearing loss already, I chose not to risk making the loss total and permanent . Disappointed yes!  But choosing to make the best of it after dumping everything but the snorkel and mask,  I went snorkeling over near Luke who had opted not to try the scuba diving.  I enjoyed it much more, going at my own pace, with no rush to keep up with the others leading the charge as on St. Croix and my ears were not screaming. I had my waterproof camera in tow and managed to take many unremarkable photos of fish and fans. Clearly underwater photography is not my forte.

Once back at the dock it was time to re-group, arrange to rent our snorkeling gear for the rest of the visit , and head back to our “Bellavista.”  But before that I had to visit the St. John’s Bay National Park Visitors Center to get the park maps and stamps  so we opted to take a short sweaty walk over to it only to find it was closed. What”s next?

The family decided to walk back via Mongoose Junction. The “bio”  for Mongoose Junction claims to be St .John’s premier shopping and dining destination “with a collection of fashionable shops and restaurants in a unique architectural and tropical setting unmatched in the entire Caribbean.” Miriam had had ice cream on her mind and had been hinting at it for several days now, so we happened upon St. John Scoops of Mongoose Junction and that was the moment when her fondest wishes were realized. As the family walked back with ice cream dripping from the cones, of more interest to me were its chickens, roosters  and other colorful buildings in this historic neighborhood Enighed.

Back on the road it was time for food, dinner, swim and planning for the following day.

Sucking Sea Water and Sun Sodden Schlepping

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We were departing for Gallows Bay, St. Croix from the Blyden Ferry terminal in St. Thomas ( a 40 mile trip) and arrived there with a fair amount of time to spare before our three pm departure. The terminal  is definitely NOT fancy and decidedly HOT.  We parked ourselves on the uncomfortable wooden benches and I could not help thinking this is more akin to a greyhound bus station in the wrong part of town rather than what  my conception of a Caribbean  cruise terminal would be like.

The QE IV is a high speed catamaran and as it plowed the Caribbean Sea on this relatively calm journey (per the captain, the swells were mild), I was grateful for this relative mildness. The slap of the water on the windows was very enlivening and definitely not of the sea sickness level.  The vibrant  soundtrack on this voyage was a mixture of the hum of the engines, the occasional creak, and the thump, splat,  slap of a sheet of water  as it flings itself against the window.  WHAP and then it dribbles down the glass. Repeat for two hours.

Docking was at  the Gallows Bay terminal in Christiansted ! By the time we collected our luggage and made our way roadside, there was not a livery service vehicle to be seen.  We needed to pick up a rental car at the airport and had decided that since taxis charge per person, it was best that only Nick and I make our way there.  Having had minimal luck ordering a taxi, the ferry captain arranged  for an open-air taxi, aka “safaris” to  come.  Before long a regular taxi showed up and being opportunistic we hopped in it as there was no guarantee when  the hypothetical safari vehicle  would arrive.

I have had a Caribbean dreamscape over the years about  it being a paradise  in which I would be immersed in the salt-air, my skin kissed by  the trade winds, and floating  in turquoise waters above  technicolor reef just offshore…  a true tropical paradise.  But upon arrival,  the sun was intense and I was immersed in steam bath humidity.  On the drive to the airport there were abandoned building, shuttered storefronts, crumbing facades, pot holed roads winding through scrubby vegetation… the scene definitely was not of the picture perfect postcard  or the polished resort variety.  The driver took us through the industrial area further dashing any preconceived notion I had about this being a carefree tropical island of unsurpassed beauty. In the area of Limetree Bay was  the remaining skeleton of the original Hess oil massive refinery which went “dead” in 2021 because of toxic emissions, health concerns, foul odors, EPA violation resulting in  devastating losses of jobs and an economic catastrophe .

Picking up the rental car, a 4-door Jeep Wrangler was seamless and Nick soon was behind the  drivers wheel and  getting used to the driving on the left-hand side of the pot-holed roads.  I thought getting a jeep was basically a lark but in actuality a necessity given the roads. I had hope his long term memory of driving on the left in Australia was an asset and would kick in but since,  unlike in the English tradition,  with the steering column on the right , the steering column was in the normal American style on the left side adding another challenge on these narrow, rough and unpredictable roads. 

Finally, gathering up the family at the ferry terminal, we made out way to our VRBO  coined an “Island Vibe Retreat” in  “Judith Fancy, ” a gated residential community built on the 18th century Judith Fancy Sugar Plantation. It was named after Judith, a free woman of color, and considered a prized and “stylish” manor i.e fancy .  Ruins of the old sugar mill remain and were visible from the courtyard of the house. Similar ruins of many of the old rum and sugar plantations exist throughout the island. 

This was a true Caribbean style indoor/outdoor living space with  a large courtyard for dining .  Off of  this open-air central courtyard were  3 bedrooms with en-suites, (the only air conditioned rooms)  a  living room, dining room, kitchen. and laundry room all with their own separate locks and  keys.  From the front it would seem that this was a secure fortress but in reality one could access all of the rooms by going around the side or back. Hence, Luke became the keeper of the keys and had the sacred responsibility of opening and locking every single room every time we went out. Given that Luke can be highly anxious and extra cautious this job suited him well. A favorite spot was a rooftop patio, with its gentle breezes in the evening after the sweltering sun vanished below the horizon.  

However, the main rooms did not scream calypso or reggae vibes and definitely were not of the Caribbean vibe. A striking painting that graced the living room definitely burst with color and emotion but in my mind did definitely not “fit” the Caribbean setting and I found it slightly unsettling and unnerving with its splattered streaked paint. It would best suited for a Miami art museum. I was relieved to spend all of my stay in the outdoor parts of the house as viewing it once was enough.

The premier event that I planned on St. Croix was a sailing and snorkeling excursion to Buck Island, described as a “marine garden” established by John F. Kennedy in 1961 and is designated a National Monument . It is a no-take marine protected area in the Caribbean Sea. Buck Island itself is physically protected by a flourishing elkhorn reef formed by elkhorn coral (branches fan out like the antlers of an elk and are brown in color.) With Captain Carl was at the helm, weathered by years of sailing under the Caribbean sun, and after an engine assisted sail out of the harbor on this 42-foot Trimaran (Teroro II), we sped towards our destination under sail power only. I note this because all the other companies going to Buck Island tend to use motorized vessels and I opted for the less polluting choice.

The sail was invigorating as Captain Carl pointed homes along a rocky headland, Pull Point,  including one home frequently visited by  Joe Biden that was owned by a longtime fiend of his  and another where the physicist Robert Oppenheimer often stayed with friends …plus other interesting trivia.  I would have been much more interested in learning about elkhorn coral and parrot fish than the vacation spots off famous people! The sea was various shades of blue and upon approaching Buck Island it took on that stunning turquoise color. Seems the recipe for this color palette is sunlight, water clarity, depth, and a white sandy floor! Anchoring on the western side of the Island, we would commence our first snorkeling adventure.

Our first stop was proximate to the underwater trail. Provided with snorkleing gear and with Captain Carl as our guide, we entered a shallow lagoon and followed a series of submerged plaques identifying surrounding marine life and coral formations. Sounds lovely and serene and it might well have been for the others. BUT, since I was not a skilled snorkeler, I was about to embark on a not so gentle glide through the water and definitely not an effortless and graceful adventure. My primary take away from this experience was definitely a lot of sputtering and choking on sea water.

Feeling quite fashionable in my mask and snorkel in my new swim togs, I finally managed to get the flippers on while bobbing around in the water and then, somehow miraculously, I was able to get the mask on my face and relatively water tight, thus avoiding bathing my eyes in sea water. I followed our group and guide towards the trail and naturally I was trailing the group and trying to keep up, see what was below, and keep an eye out for the red and white life ring being dragged forward by Captain Carl. Every time I saw an underwater marker I had this unconscious need to peer at it closer and plunged my face deeper and of course sucked in vast amounts of sea water. Not once, lesson learned, but several time over the course of the course!. I was desperately trying to enjoy this journey through coral gardens, grottoes and a reef teaming with marine life but secretly was glad that I did not get lost in a coral cavern and made it back to the boat.

I had resurrected my trusty Olympus waterproof and shockproof camera so I would capture dazzling the underwater world of tropical fish and coral. Seems I was better a capturing butts and flippers than fish. As for the fish, they remained a a speck in the distance.

Subsequently, we then sailed over to Buck Island’s Turtle Beach and had about 1.5 hours to spend there. Not one for lying on the beach and not wanting a repeat that snorkel experience again this day, I opted for hiking the trail on Buck Island with Tasia, Nick, and Luke. Forewarned about a massive bees nest at the trailhead which we thankfully avoided. and after picking our way across slimy rocks, the hike was short (1.28 miles) but also challenging as it winds up a dry rocky hillside through native vegetation including cacti, sea grapes and turpentine trees. I was surprised by the feeling that I was hiking in a wild, Caribbean desert and dry forest, something I did not associate with tropical islands. And as with desert hiking, by the time I reached the overlook it looked like I had opted for the bathing on the beach option. The path was narrow and a bit rugged for my tendency to find every “trippin” rock and root”but I did stay upright. . It was replete with buzzing insects and hermit crabs toting around there borrowed shells. Turk’s Cap Cactus were of special interest named for its red “cap” that resembles a Turkish fez and the crown sporting small tubular pink flowers.

Atop, the reward was stunning views of the reef, resembling a necklace surrounding the Island, rolling hills and the distant shoreline of St. Croix.. What a contrast this day was with both hiking over this cactus studded Island and swimming in coral garden teaming with marine life.

It ended at the beach with a short walk back to Captain Carl’s salt-sprayed sailing craft and a breezy ride “home” to relax, enjoy a simple dinner in the outdoor dining area , and then a short walk to a beach access near our VRBO. I had hope to dip my toes in the water as I imagined a tropical sandy beach but found it was rocky, coral strew and draped with a thick mat of seaweed (sargassum) to wade through. Not tonight. The view by night though from the beach of St. Croix glowing across the water however was quite a lovely site.