02/19/2007, Culebra, Spanish Virgin Islands
The Spanish Virgins... we didn't know what to expect, but had heard (and read) that it was like cruising the BVI thirty years ago - very few boats, pristine beaches, virtually undeveloped. How true these rumours are!
Our first night on Culebra, we anchored just outside Ensenada Honda, tucked snugly between reef and shore. We explored nearby coves by kayak and dinghy, and Caroline, with twin 13 year old twins from a neighbouring boat, plied the reef in search of collectable shells, urchins, sea biscuits and sand dollars. The nearby town of Dewey was charming but sleepy. There, we lunched at the popular "Mamacita's" under the watchful eyes of two large green iguanas perched in a nearby tree.
At a neighbouring island, Culebrita, we discovered the closest thing to a perfect beach (I know... you must be tired of hearing about near-perfect beaches!). The horseshoe-shaped bay at the north end of this uninhabited island, protected from wind and wave, provided days of entertainment. We anchored in seven feet of clear bue water over a rippled white sand bottom only a few yards from shore... an easy swim in to the beach, even for little Sabrina. A short hike through arid scrub led us to beautiful tidal pools protected by massive boulders. Here, we swam and snorkelled for hours in the calm, clear water - much like swimming in a fish tank! And the steep cliffs bordering the pools made for great climbing!
A longer hike to the south took us to higher ground and an historic lighthouse, architecturally beautiful but sadly left to decay. Against better judgement and with an immense amount of caution, I climbed the rotting iron spiral staircase to the top of the lighthouse and was rewarded with a magnificent 360-degree view of the surrounding islands and their azure waters, backed by the mountains of Puerto Rico.
We were in good company in the anchorage... the bay was home to at least a half dozen hawksbill turtles who use this beach as a nesting area. Unfortunately, we were there at the wrong time of year to witness that phenomenon. Next time...???
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02/02/2007, St. Croix, US Virgin Islands
I never thought, upon arrival at the lush and lovely island of St. Croix, that such a location would provide the best-ever off-roading experience! Within a hour of our arrival, we rented a Jeep with the idea of exploring St. Croix's two towns, Christiansted and Frederiksted, at opposite ends of the island. We spent a little time sight-seeing in Christiansted, a quaint historic town boasting amazing architecture, some buildings crumbling in ruins and others beautifully restored.
Then we headed west along the coast and sighted numerous jeep tracks which were just begging to be driven. For anyone craving a great off-road experience second to none but unable to find it in our "civilized" country, it's here on St. Croix. The tracks meandered up and over the coastal mountains, first no rougher than an unmaintained dirt road. Then things changed... after a hour of bashing through steep terrain, both up and down, we found ourselves on what looked like a virtually impassable track. We got out to survey what was ahead and voted to turn back, but were unable to turn around on the narrow path and so by default just headed onward. The "road" continued steeply downhill, rutted and washed out beyond anything I've seen before, with a nasty drop-off on one side and sheer rock face on the other. There were holes that could have nearly swallowed the Jeep and we frequently found ourselves precariously angled - I swear I thought we'd either disappear into a crevice, get high-centred, turn turtle or break off a wheel. I asked David at this point if the rental car company forbade off-road travel to which he replied, "Not specifically." Good enough for me.
We continued down and found ourselves, after some time, at the ocean. The giant surf crashed on the rocky windward shore and the beach was one of boulders and stones - no friendly sandy crescent here. We hiked west and found ourselves at a beautiful tidal pool, where David swam with the kids. A little rest and tension relief was warranted at this point, I believe. The return drive was not quite as tense; knowing that having made it down, we were likely to make it up again. Thank God for 4-wheel low!
The views from the mountains were captivating and at one point, we pulled over to visit a horse we found tied at the side of the trail. He was definitely friendly, licking at David's toes and sticking his head in the Jeep repeatedly. For a short time, we also found ourselves following a 4WD guide on a tour with customers in his specially modified Jeep (as opposed to our very stock vehicle).
Caroline enjoyed the afternoon immensely, encouraging rougher and rougher tracks, and was grinning ear to ear whenever I looked back at her. Sabrina, on the other hand, would repeately shout "NO!" as David pressed on. She didn't seem to like getting sprayed with mud as we bashed our way through deep puddled ruts... I can't see why though?! Who wouldn't want to get out there, get dirty and do untold damage to a rented vehicle!? I just don't want to be there when David returns the Jeep to the rental company...
After the wild ride, we drove into St. Croix's rainforest. The road, still rough and pot-holed, wound its way through the lush canopy, still recovering from hurricane damage that stripped and downed trees years before. And appearing before us was the Domino Hut, where we pulled over for a quick bite... and found J.R., the big pig, who could swill numerous cans of beer! He practically jumped out of his pen as he saw us approach with a can of the frosty stuff! Mmmmm...
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01/30/2007, West End, BVI
WildChild anchored in Soper's Hole, BVI while an unknown patron expresses his political views (could this be the man himself??). The ultimate Bush-wacker!!
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01/29/2007, USVI
Okay, imagine this. It's seven a.m. The sun is still low but rising over the mountains. The air is hot, humid, hazy already. The beaches are empty, pristine. There is not a scrap of wind. The palm trees, usually swaying gracefully in the breeze, are still. The water is calm, milky. You are kayaking over into the next bay - an early morning paddle. There is no one about, only pelicans who dive-bomb the waters around your boat, searching for breakfast. A few feet away, a sea turtle surfaces and glides towards you, checking you out. He comes to within two feet of your kayak, nods as if to acknowledge your presence, then dives deep. This was my second, and best, morning in Maho Bay on St. John in the U.S. Virgin Islands.
St. John is a beautiful and quiet island as it is over 50% US National Park, thanks to land and monetary donations from the Rockefellers. Wildlife abounds. We moored off yet another perfect beach at Maho Bay, transient "home" to many cruisers like ourselves, and also the permanent home to an "eco-resort" - small tent cottages set in the hills, each one distant to the next, with a communal dining room.
Another anchorage, at Leinster Bay, provided snorkelling which featured sightings of sea turtles, rays and lobster. And we would often see magnificent schools of blue runners in a frenzy of feeding around the anchorage, making the waters look virtually alive!
Hiking trails criss-cross the island, providing the opportunity to self-tour the inland areas of the island and travel from scenic lookout to historical site. David has been taking advantage of the trails, running almost every morning, while I stay back at the boat, cooking big breakfasts and getting chubby!
At sunset, the lights of St. Thomas, much more urban, sparkle in the distance and the night sky is filled with stars. This is tranquility.
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