Scuba? Snuba? Snorkel?

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.

Trounced by Trumbull and Sidling to the Sea

Jack’s and Isaac’s Bays

I was quite grateful for the air cooled bedrooms in our Judith Fancy villa but, as I emerged from it the second morning, I was so much more appreciative of the balmy breeze, salt tinged air, the wide blue sky and the blazing island sun. But no tarrying on our only other full day in St. Croix. We had decided the day’s adventure would be hiking the Trumbull Trail to the Annaly Bay tide pools and needed to get on the road if we hoped to reach the pools at low tide.

The difficulty rating of the the Trumbull Trail is a relative thing and despite reviews of it being easy ( rated a stroll in the park that young strong legs make it out to be) or moderate (rated by most middle of the pack hikers)but for an 81 year old 4’11” female it was an adventure that left me so acutely aware of the withering of my formally very strong Ironman legs despite the fact that I regularly do weights for leg strengthening. But with walking stick in hand, I was oft times sandwiched between Nick and Tasia to hopefully catch any forward or backward stumbling, skidding on loose gravel, missteps, trips or other lost footings. I have never been the most coordinated person nor been known for my graceful movements. For me it was a rough, somewhat punishing experience of a trail being outfitted with tripping roots and skidding rocks, lots of short steep up and down on a very narrow ribbon of gravel, rock and roots. I also have to admit that I did not have the wisdom to wear my hiking boots. The sign at the trailhead speaks a lot about the trail upkeep .

 My walking stick worked overtime. I crept  along like a  determined little arthritic mountain goat and I lost track of how many times I nearly stumbled.  But,  Nick and Tasia were always there to provide emergency arm assists.  Luke was my temporary hiking sherpa though I am sure he would have much preferred to be daypack free. I gratefully accepted any helping hand  which was offered  knowing I was not as spry and agile as I envisioned myself to be i.e.  that  vision is of a gazelle over the terrain. Thankfully the thick tree coverage shaded much of the trail but it also blocks almost any breeze. The sweat factor might be described as a full body drip exacerbated by my wearing SFP gear with long sleeves and long pants.

Many reviews of this hike suggested good footwear but heartbreakingly,  mid-hike one of Nick’s old Merrill  sandal straps snapped ( definitely not an ideal situation on a trail that would not be considered well groomed) .  So he began joking about it, only to have a strap on the other sandal give out on the return trip.  He the coined them as his “fop-flips. I am wondering if the next time I see him hiking with sandals if it will be the old Merrill’s  “repaired” with string, twist ties and silver tape. 

Flop-Flips
Flop-Flips

In short and succinctly put – rocks, roots, humidity, sweat . . . perfection! It was a great hike of 1 hr 30 minutes to the stony beach which would eventually lead to the tide pools. The round trip was a 4.25 mile workout.

I had to think twice about making the scramble over the lava rocks to the tide pools as I could see some very jagged rock and ledges which I would need to climb up and over to access the pool. This was flirting with danger such as a twisted ankle, a lacerating trip on the jagged lava rock, the choose-your-own adventure nature of the scramble, or a fracture of my osteoporotic bones… It would be a tough sweaty brutal carry out of my damaged body as there is no cell service and no easy rescue.

So I let my imagination run wild and decided that this could be just one bad step away from catastrophe (and for those who know me well, I tend to err on the side of reckless decisions) and opted to stay on the beach and piddle around in the sea gardens there. I also reminded myself that there was a repeat of the previous hiking adventure in reverse awaiting. Though disappointed in not getting to see the grand finale of this hike, I recalled that I had been to magnificent tide pools in Cannon Beach Oregon just last year.

The sun was intense and the marine gardens at the edge sea were intriguing.  I plopped myself in the water with a rock as my backrest and sat mesmerized by the miniature pools of  flickering water surrounding me.  They were teeming with a variety of marine algae both glimmering pink-hued and brown algae looking like ruffled paper, shells, corals , black snails…

The family reappeared about and hour and a quarter later having had an exhilarating experience, though Nick did loose a bit of his dignity in an encounter with the lava obstacle course and was bemoaning the jarring his body took and the decorative lacerations on his appendages. Can we blame it on the “flop-flip? On the hike out from the beach we were all to glad to bail on the final section out to the official trail head, bypassing some of the jungle slog, and take the unofficial backdoor out to the car. The landscape changed from rocky sandy slopes to a “spa brochure “ walk through the Carambola Beach Resort.

With still a few hours remaining for adventure, Nick , Tasia, and I opted for a drive to the farthest eastern point on the island and the eastern most point of the US. The sole purpose was for me to say I had been to eastern most point in the US. It is a popular sunrise adventure but I did not feel compelled to be at the eastern most part of the US at sunrise. Luke and Miriam were of the mindset that a vacation is for resting and opted out. However it was much more than a bag another first experience. The vast ocean surrounded in every direction.

Point Udall was named in honor of the politician Stewart Udall in 1968. Topping this spot it is a geometric stone structure of spike-like pillars, the Millennium Monument. It is a modern looking stone compass built for the millennium to commemorate the dawn of a new century. It was the place to be on 01/01/2000 as the compass marked the azimuth of the first U.S. sunrise of that year.

After milling about for a bit, we saw the trailhead for the Jack & Isaac Trail. Needing to stretch my limits further with another hike, I was hoping my body would forget that I had already hiked today. The trail cut downward on a well worn relatively obstacle free path through windswept terrain similar to the tropical desert on Buck Island. As I trudged along what lay before me was stunning. The landscape of Issac and Jack’s Bays was a ribbon of white sand between the brilliant turquoise of water and the verdant greens of the hills. At the second egress for Isaac’s bay we doffed anything we did not want to get wet and plunged into this cool salty blue sea. Afterwards we hiked back partially on the beach. I was so grateful to have the energy to be able to experience the immersion into this postcard perfect scene.

There was one last adventure to be had which basically turned out to be a real dud. A walk to “Bio Bay” from our Judith Fancy VRBO was undertaken to hopefully experience the Salt River Bay glow. When the water is agitated the bioluminescent organisms (fireworms, jellies, and marine planktons) light up.I had seen this in the Florida Everglades and was anticipatory of a similar experience. I at first thought I saw the water light up but upon a closer look it was only the moonlight reflecting on the ripples. So Nick was glad to oblige us by wading in and agitating the water. Nothing. Throwing rocks, nothing. More agitation, nothing, So we eventually called it a day and meandered on back to our lodging.