Goodbye BVIs --- Hello 18-hour Travel Day

Since we had to leave for the airport by 7:00a.m. we skipped breakfast at the hotel. Checkout went relatively smoothly, although at the usual leisurely "island pace". While waiting for our cab we watched an early arriving employee feeding the resident cats and were surprised to see what seemed like all the chickens (and their families) congregate to eat the dry catfood scattered about.

Fortunately, the ride to the airport was only about 5 minutes, and just as we stepped inside, it poured --- probably the most rain we had seen the whole time we were here.

The line was incredibly long, and moving at island speed, but eventually we got our bags weighed, then were given our customs paperwork and instructed to take our bags through to customs after filling out the paperwork. We needed only declare the souvenirs we purchased in addition to giving our personal information.

One of the customs employees took our bags, and we were quickly called to the window. A cursory glance at our passports, "where are you from?" "Do you have any liquor or firearms" (where I divulged that we had one bottle of Pusser’s rum) and we were clear.

Since the wait in line just to check in had been so long, we had just a short wait until boarding. The trip to Miami took a little over 2 hours. I got to see "Nights in Rodanthe", which I enjoyed because I had already read the book.

Miami airport had no free WIFI, so we spent our layover there people-watching. There are a LOT of strange people who pass through airports these days!! Miami to Los Angeles was the next leg of our trip, and the longest. This flight was announced as full, but the seat next to me was never filled. Each seat had been issued a blanket and pillow, so I used the extra pillow (with mine) and the extra blanket to construct a "super pillow". Since they showed "Nights in Rodanthe" again, I took a long nap. I woke up to the last 2/3 of "Failure to Launch" (Sarah Jessica Parker, Matthew McConaughey), which was cute if predictable.

Dana, of course, doesn’t sleep well on planes, and the seats are very uncomfortable for his back. He spent most of his time trying to get comfortable.

One more layover in LA, then on a plane again for the short flight to SFO. Baggage came through with no problems and our "driver" (my brother, Mike) was waiting at the curb for us.

Hailey and Caleb were waiting on the step when we drove up to the house --- Caleb running up and down the walkway saying "Hi, Mima! Hi, Poppa!" and Hailey dressed to the nines in her new princess dress and tiara!! It was really good to see them, as well as Krista and Ness, when she got home from work.

I swear the babies each grew an inch while we were gone, and Caleb is talking SO much more now than he was 2 weeks ago!!

Really good to get home! Good to get the travel laundry taken care of, and best of all, to sleep in our own bed again.

We’ll have a few days to rest up from all the travel, and then will both be back at work.

Happy Birthday, Dana – Final Tuesday

After being told that our bags would be moved to our new room while we were eating breakfast, we headed down to the restaurant. We were delightfully surprised to be told that the manager was paying for our breakfast, after we dove into the American Breakfast Buffet --- specialty coffees (cappuccino, mochaccino, lattes, etc.), fresh juices, fresh fruit, selection of bagels, Danish and other pastries, granola, cold cereal, bacon, sausages, home fries, eggs cooked to order and waffles. Well, we didn’t eat all of this, but this is what was available.

Dana had discovered that he left his iPod on the boat, so he set off for the 45-minute each way trip back to the boat to retrieve it. I spent my morning on the computer, FINALLY able to get a decent internet connection to post my earlier adventures, clear out some work emails and get generally caught up.

Dana got "Happy Birthday" texts from the kids (although we haven’t had real cell coverage, we’ve been able to text the kids all week, trying to remember the 5 hour time difference when doing so). Dana got back, iPod in hand and we wandered down to the beach for one last afternoon of swimming and sun.

After that, we hit the beach bar for lunch --- cheeseburgers and fries, and watched the iguanas "begging" for food. I kept one eye on them, though, because they have really big claws.

We talked to the two bartenders, curious at how each had ended up here. One was a guy who had come on vacation in 1980 when he was 22 and ended up staying. He was from Long Island --- and had never lost his accent. The other was a beautiful 22-year old Argentinean girl, who confessed that she had grown up spoiled and not wanting for anything, and was now making her way in the world by going away from home and supporting herself, more to learn how to be self-sufficient than anything else. She offered to take our picture, and when I said "Happy Birthday" to Dana, she came back a minute later with a huge piece of 3-layer chocolate cake for him.

All the sun and swimming had taken its toll, so we returned to take yet another nap, then watched yet another movie (can’t get our fill of TV), then went down for our last dinner here.

Dana went "lite" with soup and salad, and I chose the pasta primavera --- no appetizers tonight, because creme brulee is on the menu for dessert. We both had dessert, then returned to the room to pack in preparation of our early departure on Thursday morning.

Can't wait to get home and see everyone!

Final Sunday Takes Us to Jost Van Dyke

This morning began, as most mornings have, with an early departure, this time from Trellis Bay to Jost Van Dyke, our final island visit before returning to St. Thomas.

Breakfast was scrambled eggs, bacon, and coffee --- after arriving in the area, we moored off a small key. I’m told the difference between a key and an island is that a key has no water source. This key was totally uninhabited, with just a beautiful stretch of beach, lots of sun, and the ever-present turquoise blue water.

We were encouraged to swim in to shore, which turned out to be the only real physical effort we made all week. Fortunately, we decided to take our snorkel gear, just in case, which enable us to get there safely (flippers really helped). The water was quite rough and the currents strong. No pictures, as we didn't have a reliable "dry bag" to get the cameras in to shore.

My first inclination was to collapse on the beach a la Castaway, but instead stowed my snorkel gear before setting off to comb the beach for shells. It would have been possible to walk around the circumference of the island, but only if we took the trail through the "jungle-y" part --- we wanted to stay on the beach. Scott and I walked as far as where the sand turned to rock, then turned around. Scott had a little "run-in" with some native "pokeys" --- why he didn’t have flip-flops on, I don’t know.

I picked up several more shells, and Gayle spotted several good sized chunks of sea fan, which I’ll take home and use to make something. After an hour or so, we jumped back into the water for the swim back to the boat. The return trip was much easier, as we weren’t fighting the current.

Captain Allan served up another delicious lunch --- warm shrimp salad with kalamata olives. After naps, we started off for Jost Van Dyke and our last adventure.

We planned to visit both the Soggy Dollar Bar and Foxy’s that day. Soggy Dollar Bar is situated on another beautiful beach. The bar got it’s name because the only way it used to be accessible was for passengers to jump from their dinghy into the water, soaking the bills in their pockets --- Soggy Dollar Bar.

Nowadays, since there still is no dock on this part of the island, the traditional way of accessing the bar is by swimming in (a much easier swim than that morning’s), although it is possible to take a dinghy either partway or all the way to the beach. We opted to dinghy in, offloading in about 4-5’ of water.
As in every other place we’ve visited, it was a lively party atmosphere, busy bar, gift shop and food available. There were a couple of musicians in the bar area playing live music, hammocks strung between some of the trees and a ring swing/toss game set up on one of the trees. (A hook is fastened into the tree trunk, a ring is attached to the tree by a long cord --- you swing the ring toward the tree and hook, with the goal being hook the ring to the hook.)
There were also dozens of beach chairs available. We settled in to get some sun and enjoy some drinks. After several cycles of sunscreen, sun/drinks, swimming, back to sunscreen, etc., we heard Scott’s name being called. Some friends of Scott and Gayle’s happened to be visiting the BVIs --- we were actually supposed to meet them the night before at Bomba’s but couldn’t reach them after we changed our plans. So, out of the ocean appeared Sally and Rob. We had all be getting a little weary by that time, but those two managed to kickstart our engines again.

The afternoon continued as before: sunscreen, sun/drinks, water, repeat. Every time I finished a drink, there was another one being handed to me.

Gayle and I tried the ring-toss game --- beating it after only a few swings. I think it may have been sheer luck, as our reasoning abilities were a bit impaired by then.

Before the sun went down, we swam back to the boat, rested for a half-hour or so, and took off for the next beach and Foxy’s. Foxy’s is a well-known bar/restaurant decorated with items signed by visitors and hung by the ceiling by the dozen --- everything from tank tops to jerseys to sweatpants, business cards, home-made posters.

The owner of the next restaurant over, Corsairs, happened by and we struck up a conversation with him. We decided to walk the short distance to his restaurant for dinner.

Dana ordered pasta primavera for me, but unfortunately I don’t remember a lot of it. I’m sure it was good, as he says his dinner was good, too. I do remember that our little waitress was newly arrived from the Philipines. And there were cats in the restaurant. That's about all I remember.

A short walk back to the dock, into the dinghy and back to the boat finished off this most celebratory evening. It was quite late (and we had all had more than enough to drink) so we turned in.

Saturday Equals Trellis Bay and the Full Moon Party

We had originally planned to celebrate the full moon party at the Bomba Shack, but after hearing how crowded that celebration has become, we decided to attend the "alternate" event on Trellis Bay --- for the older set.

We started from Anegada early this morning, while we were still sleeping. Since we all slept late (except for Captain Allan) we settled for coffee with the prospect of a big burger lunch, which turned out to be the perfect choice.

After lunch, Gayle, Dana, and I set off with Captain Allan for a short mile-long ride in the dinghy for a choice snorkeling spot. Dana’s been having problems getting a good facemask fit because of his mustache, and ended up staying in the dinghy with Allan.

Gayle and I snorkeled for close to an hour. Once again, I would have stayed in all day. The fish --- big, small, brilliant jewel-toned blue, blue and yellow striped, a huge one that looked iridescent, brain coral, fan coral that looked brownish red but when you got up close had bright purple veining on it. . . unbelievable.

I think I could float around on the surface of the ocean for days. I just never get tired of it.
We stayed for well over an hour, then took the dinghy back for the "required" post-snorkeling nap. We’re just now enjoying appetizers and wine before we go in to Trellis Bay for dinner and the full moon party.

This party reportedly ends with the burning of something on the beach, very "Burning Man".

Trellis Bay at least has a dock, and as we arrived it looed like the party was in full swing. There was a short string of gift shops, the kitchen and a bar.

One of the gift shops specialized in Raku pottery, evidently a Japanese method of firing on the enamel. They planned a demonstration for later in the evening. The pottery was beautiful, yet a little pricey.

The second shop was purely souvenir-type stuff, and the third specialized in island crafts. Probably the nicest selection of real island goods we had seen yet. I was tired of checking labels to see that things were made in China.

The kitchen was serving up a buffet which included macaroni and cheese (who knew?) plantains, cole slaw, veg, barbecued chicken, jerk chicken, some other kind of meat, curried goat (no, thank you) and ribs. Lots of food, none of it 5-star, but filling. Drinks were sold via tickets: purchase drink tickets and present tickets at the bar. The first crowds were treated with a glow-in-the-dark martini glass to pour your drinks into, basically a plastic martini glass with a glow-stick portion. The glass was two layers of plastic, with space in between --- crack the glow-stick to release the liquid into the space and your drinks would look like they were glowing.

There was a very burned out, seemingly extremely intoxicated juggler for added entertainment. We had spotted this character on Anegada the day before; evidently he lives on that island. He was your typical aged hippy, complete with Rasta hat and thin, straggly long hair and beard, and little round eyeglasses that only made his beady little eyes look smaller. We could only watch him "juggle" until he started with the fire juggling --- we didn't want to be witness to a possible fiasco.

There were four structures sitting on short stilts a little way out into the water. Each was at least three feet tall: all made out of steel with intricate patterns cut out of them (figures, dolphins, fish, and other patterns). They were each filled with fuel, paper and wood. At sundown each was lit and burned into the night. We met the man who makes these. He's truly an artist. They would make the most beautiful fire pit.

There was also a woman who was doing henna tattoos. She and her husband were Indian. While Gayle was having a sea turtle henna tattoo done, I asked the man how they ended up in BVI. He is an accountant, and can do his work from anywhere. His wife has opened a spa on Tortola, givng facials, massages, etc. They had been there at least 8 years and had raised children there, too. When I was having a traditional Indian foot henna tattoo done, I mentioned that I had seen henna tattoos done at the Fremont Indian Festival, but most of them were more Americanized, and not necessarily traditional Indian.

The guy almost jumped out of his shoes -- turns out he has a sister who lived in Fremont, but he had lost touch with her. I told him I would try to help find her, so he gave me her name on his wife's business card. Small world!!

The live band had cranked up their instruments and people were beginning to dance on the beach. Then we were treated with a performance by what looked to be a family group of "Jumbies". These are performers dressed in native Jamaican costumes but walking about on stilts at least 6-7 feet tall. . . AND on sand. They walked around, they danced, they challenged audience members to a dance-off, and posed on the beach for picture-taking. The oldest seemed to the the dad, then there was a young man maybe 19 years old, one around 15, a girl who might have been 12 and a little guy no older than 9. They were really talented!

We left before the party ended, as we didn't want to get caught in the very intoxicated crowd leaving.

We miss everyone only because we wish you could all be here with us, but we’re still having a good time.

Friday Means Anegada. . .

We left Virgin Gorda early this morning, even before everyone was awake to sail to Anegada, which is the furthest destination for us on this trip. Anegada looks like a sandbar with trees sticking up out of the ocean out in the middle of nowhere. The highest elevation on Anegada is 27 feet.

Shortly after a "lite" breakfast of yogurt, granola, freshly baked biscuits and coffee, we loaded into the dinghy for our outing to Anegada. We took along towels and our snorkeling gear, as the plan was to take a safari taxi to Loblolly Bay for some outstanding snorkeling along the reef there.
I’ve mentioned how we take the dinghy in to shore at each stop, so I’ll take a few minutes to talk about getting into and out of the dinghy each time.

Getting in from the boat is pretty easy --- sit on the back deck, which is only about six inches from the top of the dinghy and sort of slip in, taking the seat assigned by Captain Allan. The "dismount" when you get to shore is quite different. You pull up to a dock, one person jumps out (in our case it’s Scott, since he has the most "first mate" experience), then you step up on the inflatable dinghy with one foot. After grabbing Scott’s hand and, pushing off with one foot, hoist your other foot up onto the dock. Sounds easy, right? Well, sometimes it’s 2 feet of more up to the dock level, so it can get pretty dicey.

Getting back in can also be interesting, since the dinghy has been sitting there collecting seaspray on it’s slick, rubber surface. Then, of course, there’s the issue of how much alcohol you may or may not have consumed. Standard practice is to sit down on the dock and half jump, half slip into the dinghy, taking care not to end up in the water. So far, so good --- no casualties.

Walking along the dock at Anegada to the shore, we spied the lobster traps, which held our dinners for that night --- fresh Anegada spiny lobsters.

There were several buildings at this location: one long house-like structure that contained a laundromat, among other things, one building that housed the restaurant kitchen, the standard hut bar structure, a covered patio with tables and additional tables set up along the beach.

The lunch menu for this restaurant was one of the most interesting (thankfully, we would be eating at Loblolly Bay) ---- Monday: Fish Chop Suey, Tuesday: Shrimp Chop Suey, Wednesday: Lobster Chop Suey, etc. Not sure where the chop suey influence came from. . .

We were told our safari taxi would be there shortly (island time), and within 30 minutes he pulled up. The safari taxi’s design was slightly different than the taxis from the day before in that there were only two bench seats in the truck bed, one situated along each side. We quickly set off for Loblolly Bay along a cement road (upkeep on asphalt would be ridiculous).

There were a couple of gift shops just outside the beach area, then the occasional house, then nothing along the road but sea grape trees, sand, and rocks. Suddenly the cement road ended and became a sand road, which took us the last hundred yards to Loblolly Bay. Another island parking lot with vehicles jammed in any which way, then a blue cement walkway leading down to the restaurant, showers, gift shop, and dive shop.

We took the path just past the restaurant through the sea grape trees, and as we came around the corner were greeted by a beach straight out of the Corona commercial --- pale blue water, turning to aqua, turning to light navy and pale sand as far as you could see.

There were little thatched shade huts dotting the beach, each with its own bench. The sand was deep and loose, but not a bit hot.

We could see the reef running along the beach about 20 yards offshore and the water was the palest blue until you got to the reef.

After testing the water (just the right temperature, as always) we put on our snorkeling gear and headed out to the reef. I could have stayed out there forever, but Dana got cold after about 45 minutes. We saw so many gorgeous fish, and different types of coral it was amazing!! I kept thinking how the twins had just visited Monterey Bay Aquarium the day before and here were Mima and Poppa SWIMMING in the aquarium. Unbelievable --- I can’t even begin to remember all the different fish.

After "resting up", we headed up to the restaurant for lunch, met our safari taxi for the ride back and met Captain Allan at the dock.

All that snorkeling wore us out, so everyone had naps. Later in the afternoon I spent about 2 hours hanging off the front of the boat watching three sea turtles surface and dive --- one was about 25 feet from shore, the second about 100 yards from the boat, but the third was only about 50 feet from us --- surfacing every 2 or 3 minutes to stick his head up and "wave" to me with his flippers. I could have watched them all day. After showers we headed back to shore for our spiny lobster dinners.

The restaurant is very casual (tables on the beach) so salad, baked potatoes, and ratatouille are served family style, in a large dish to pass and share with everyone. Our lobsters quickly arrived, crazy delicious, slipping out of the shell effortlessly. A little gravy boat of melted butter and a couple of bottles of wine completed the meal.

By that time we were tired AND stuffed, so we headed back to the dinghy. Just before I got to the dock, I saw a little creature running toward me that I thought was a miniature dog of some kind but turned out to be the tiniest all black kitten with a little red collar. He ran right up to me and jumped into my hands, and began purring immediately. SO adorable!!

Back to the boat for more music and conversation. Although we had all planned to get to bed early because we were leaving early the next morning for Trellis Bay, we ended up staying up late, but also sleeping in late.

Thursday Means Virgin Gorda. . .

This morning after another wonderful Captain Allan breakfast (omelettes, bacon, fresh fruit, fresh-baked baguettes and, ahhhh, coffee) we were dropped off on one end of Virgin Gorda and delivered to our driver, Mel, for the day. We were scheduled to go to a place called "The Baths" for a short hike to the beach, then lunch, then a guided tour through the "real" island of Virgin Gorda and delivered back to our captain late afternoon.

Mel, as with all the islanders, speaks with a lilting Jamaican-tinged accent. All the native islanders are friendly and easy-going, and in no rush except when they’re behind the wheel of a vehicle.

Mel handed us off to another driver for the trip up a small mountain to "The Baths". The roadway took us past many real island houses, all brightly painted, with chickens and even goats wandering freely. Most windows in "real" houses here are horizontal slats of glass the tip out to open. Many homes are one or two stories, almost always with rebar sticking up through the "roof" and stairs leading up to what may or may never be the top floor of the home. So many look like they’re only partway finished, and also as if they never will be.

This part of the island looks very much like high-desert California --- lots of scrub and cactus, aloe, and other succulents, however here on this part of Virgin Gorda is dotted with huge boulders. And by huge I mean that the smallest are at least one story high. Some are leaning on others, some standing alone, some piled by the dozen, as if some giant child had dribbled them across the countryside.
The road up is very narrow, and most of the vehicles are large "taxis" --- mid-size trucks with tramlike seating where the truck bed would be. All sound as if their transmissions were nearly dead, and the shocks are ALL worn completely out. Every 100 yards or so is a large speed bump --- absolutely necessary, as without them everyone would be going 70 or so (and, as on St. Thomas, stop signs are still only a "suggestion"). Cars are darting out from side roads, with only a short horn blast to announce that, by god, they’re coming.

To make up for having to slow down for the speed bumps, every taxi guns it and goes all out in between each one. It made for quite the ride!

Our destination consisted of several brightly colored buildings: a ticket vendor, a restaurant/bar, and the requisite row of gift shops. Unfortunately, it was cruise ship day, so there were a LOT of people there. We purchased our tickets and, on the advice of our driver, headed out on a different trail than the rest of the hordes. This turned out to be the best advice of the day.

Our driver told us Mel would pick us up at 2:30p.m. and that we would settle up the bill with him, gave us a huge toothy smile and left us.

Despite having to step off the trail for oncoming hikers every once in a while, we were happy we were walking down to the beach on the trail our driver recommended, because it was quite steep at times and very rocky. Soon we reached an area full of giant boulders. As we walked through an opening between two of them, we were greeted with the sight of one of the most beautiful beaches I’ve ever seen. Very soft, clean sand and some of the bluest water on earth.

We staked out a little area of shade, shooed away one of the local chickens, and headed to the water. Even with the cruise ship crowds, most had stayed at the first water they found, so this beach wasn’t nearly as crowded as it could have been. We spent the next hour floating in the water, until it was time to head back for lunch.

The trail back took us through the "caves", which were actually openings between these huge boulders. Some parts had wooden steps and walkways built through and some were just soft sand. The way back was nowhere as steep as coming down, and took us through cool caves made by the boulders and back out into the sunshine.

We ended up at a little hut of a bar that was serving a variety of cold drinks, beer and water included. After catching our breath we headed up to the restaurant, taking advantage of the fresh water pool just next to it that removed all trace of salt water from us.

After lunch, we headed past the gift shops to the "car park" to meet Mel. Very few of the parking areas are marked with spaces, but even when they are I think the lines are the same as the stop signs --- only suggestions. This parking lot was literally a jumble of these big tram taxis and the little island cars. Somehow everyone gets out when they need to without accidents.

After a few minutes of waiting for Mel, the driver that brought us up told us to jump into his taxi and he would take us to meet Mel halfway. Sure enough, partway down the hill there was Mel. We all jumped out of our taxi into his and off we went. (Reminder: the taxi is still this mid-size truck with the big tram seating where the truck bed would be).

Mel drove us up over Virgin Gorda, sort of end-to-end, through real island neighborhoods and past fabulous mansions. We stopped at a place called Little Dix Resort, which I think was orginally owned by the Rockefellers. We got out of the taxi and followed Mel down a flagstone walkway to the beach. As we stepped onto the sand, Gayle spotted a sting ray swimming along the beach just a couple of feet from shore. After showing us the rest of the resort, we piled back into the tram seats and continued on.

Mel stopped at three different vista points along our journey, so we could take pictures. At the last one, we could see several of the islands, including the one owned by Richard Branson, as well as our Friday destination, Anegada.

Mel delivered us safely to Lemerick Bay Resort where Captain Allan was waiting with the dinghy to return us to the boat. We had time for a real shower before setting off for Saba Rock for dinner --- conch fritters (not quite as good as last night’s) and a selection of deep-fried seafood along with a salad bar and baked potato.

Tomorrow is another day of snorkeling, and we’re pretty tired from the hike today, so we headed back to the boat and turned in early.

Still no internet connection.

Wednesday – Peter's Island and Marina Cay

This morning we slept in a bit until our captain woke us with a light breakfast --- yogurt with granola, toasted bagels, cream cheese, lox, capers, slivered red onion slice, fresh fruit and the all important coffee. Shortly after breakfast, we boarded the dinghy and Captain Allan delivered us to Peter’s Island, accessible only by jumping from the dinghy into knee-deep water.

Perfect beach, palm trees, lounge chairs, sun, blue blue water and lots of sun. We swam for a few minutes, relaxed in the lounge chairs, walked the beach looking for shells, and explored the tide pools, then into the water again and back to the chairs. The water is SO blue and so many colors of blue. I can’t seem to get tired of looking at it.

After an hour or two, Captain Allan returned to take us back to the boat for lunch (shrimp salad, with kalamata olives, and sun-dried tomatoes with warm French bread). Soon after lunch we started off to our next mooring field: Marina Cay.

The trip ended up taking us a little longer than expected so rather than snorkel, we sunned some more, then headed out via dinghy to Marina Cay for the local show and dinner. The night’s show was a guy named Michael Bean. Michael has been a street performer for over 30 years, and in addition to performing at local spots in these islands still does some street performing during the off-season. He’s a folksy singer, playing guitar, harmonica, stomp board and squeezebox --- everything from pirate songs to Van Morrision. The "theme" of the show is pirate-y (arrgh is the phrase of the night) and very entertaining. Each table gets maracas and the audience is encouraged to participate, both by singing along and by contributing toasts during the break.

Each person who gets up and does a toast gets a shot of Pusser’s rum, and the person who is asked to deliver the rum to that participant also gets a shot of rum. At the end of the show, after the gratuity jar is passed around, there’s a conch-blowing contest.

Each table elects a conch-blower, each designated blower is asked to come to the stage and are asked one by one to blow the conch. In this contest, tone and volume are not important ---- the audience counts out how many seconds you can keep your tone going until you run out of breath. The winner is "knighted" and receives a bottle of Pusser’s rum.

I got elected from our table and went up with five other participants, young and old, for the "blow-off". I felt like I may have had an unfair advantage --- we used to call Jason home for dinner with a conch shell oh, so many years ago.

I was selected to go first and went for 34 seconds. The young 20-something girl went next. . . a mere 9 seconds. Nigel was next, but managed only 17 or so seconds. Another 20-something, this time male, managed only 4 or 5 seconds. The last contestant immediately conceded defeat, but did blow reveille.

So, I was knighted Queen Conch Blower by Michael Bean, the former street performer, was asked to do a victory dance and walked away with a bottle of Pusser’s.

I insisted that Scott get up and give the toast he had created (all about hockey and Sharks) which brought groans of agony from the Canadian table across the room, but Scott’s toast was awesome.
We left; laughing and congratulating each other, for dinner at the restaurant, which was next door. Several groups noticed the rum bottle on the table and asked who the champion conch blower was, and another table also heralded me on my way back from the restroom.

The dinner was outstanding --- conch fritters (we’re rating the best fritters on the islands) and fresh sea scallops. Too full for dessert, especially after the painkiller shot we had to drink in order to get the souvenir shotglass. Painkiller Shot --- very aptly named.

Back to the dinghy, back to the boat and off to another adventure and snorkeling tomorrow. Hoping to be able to make an internet connection somewhere.

If it’s Tuesday, it Must be Norman Island

Today I woke up to the smell of breakfast cooking --- omelets, bacon, fresh fruit and biscuits, served on the back area of the boat. I got ready for the day (washed my face, put on moisturizer, bathing suit and pareo) and went to join the others. Oh, and did I say coffee?? Really good coffee, not the regular island swill.

The view during breakfast was the same --- sailboats, both anchored and sailing, and unbelievably blue ocean. After breakfast we "battened the hatches" (no really, we did) and started for Norman Island, actually just near there for our first snorkeling stop.

By the time we got there (how long it took, I don’t know, because I haven’t looked at a clock since I left San Juan)), but I decided I’d had enough sun (and yes, kids, I’ve been using my sunblock religiously). Thank God I bought the rashguard before we left San Jose --- it ended up saving me from a wicked sunburn, since we spent probably the next 2 hours in the water, slowing drifting along watching the fish. There’s no way to describe it other than it was like swimming in an aquarium. Fish, coral and other sea life as far as you could see. Some would swim really close JUST out of reach, but they were sometimes only inches out of your reach.

Strangely enough, we ended up getting out when Dana got cold --- I could have stayed in for hours. However, when we got back on the boat, Captain Allan had prepared a fabulous lunch of curry chicken salad and Brie sandwiches on baguettes with a pesto pasta salad.

The boys needed to nap, so Gayle and I went out to the front of the boat to lounge in and out of the sun while Captain Allan took us to the mooring area near Willie T’s and Norman Island. Again, no idea how long we lay there, but when the boys were fully rested, we hopped in the dinghy for a short ride to Norman Island. Norman Island is simply a small island, with a bar, gift shop and beach. I’m sure they must serve food, but I DO know they serve a drink called a Bushwhacker, aptly named. Gayle and I were waiting to take on the inflatable mountain climbing attraction, but ended up lolling around in the water, picking up shells and watching the flounder we found move from place to place. Later, we sat on the beach in the lounge chairs provided and watched the sun go down.

Back to the boat to "shower" off the back of the boat (rinse the saltwater off) and then it was a short dinghy ride the other direction to Willie T’s for dinner. Willie T’s is a large boat that’s been converted to a bar/restaurant that’s anchored a little off Norman Island to one side of the mooring field. They serve uncomplicated food like burgers and fish and chips, because, as we’ve found out, the concentration is on what’s being sold in the bar.

After dinner and drinks, we returned to the boat, watched the water for a while and turned in.

If it’s Monday, it Must be St. Thomas

When I booked the flight from Puerto Rico to St. Thomas (to board the Catalyst), the flight leaving at 9:55a.m. seemed like a good thing --- not too early, but maximizing our actual time at sea.
What I didn’t factor in was the time to get ready (even if we were packed the night before), stopping for breakfast, getting to the airport, getting checked in, and getting through airport security.

The actual flight from San Juan to St. Thomas takes 26 minutes, but we had to request a 6:15a.m. wakeup call to accomplish all of the above. Puerto Rican service workers are THE nicest people, but their sense of urgency is NOT what it is in the states. A 26-minute flight is also NOT enough time for even a quick nap.

Our cabbie was the nicest guy and thankfully he spoke English, however heavily Jamaican-ish accented. He took us "the back way" to the marina --- straight over the mountain separating one side of the island from the other. Plus, they drive on the "wrong" side of the road, but the cars are all American (steering wheels on the "correct" side). There’s no way I could get used to that!! Way too odd!!

Stop signs here are just a warning, and cars may stop and may not, depending on who’s around. "Permissions" are given via blinkers or hand signals ---- really the bravest drivers prevail. And did I mention they drive on the wrong side of the road??

The drive did afford us a good picture of real life on the island, from abject poverty to beautiful hilltop mansions, and everything in between.

We got dropped at Molly Molone’s, Captain Allan’s traditional meeting place. It was crazy hot, but no as humid as Puerto Rico. We parked our luggage under the stairs and enjoyed a beverage before tracking down the captain and hiking out the docks to the boat.

We quickly unpacked, got the "flushing" tutorial, safety lecture and complete tour of the boat. Though we will be sailing later in the week, we motored to Tortola so Captain Allan could get us through customs. I wish I could tell you how long the trip was, but really, I was so distracted by the beautiful completely azure water and the ocean breeze that I have no idea how long it took.
All I know is we filled out a couple of forms, gave Captain Allan our passports, and he took off in the dinghy to see Customs. Fifteen minutes later he was back and everything was all good.

We "parked" offshore at Tortola, spent a little while enjoying the sun and swimming off the back of the boat, then headed to shore in the dinghy in search of beer, snacks, and a sunglass leash for Dana. I attempted to get stamps for the postcards I got in Puerto Rico, but that search was fruitless. There are a dozen or so assorted shops, a little general store, a boat charter office, and a restaurant. Half the people speak with Jamaican-ish accents, the other half British.

Back to the boat for snacks and more sunning, then off in the dinghy in the other direction for dinner at Jolly Rogers’. The water right at the dock was only about 4 feet deep, and we could see the tarpin swimming around, waiting for someone to toss in some bread. Their eyes looked like they were glowing in the dark.

Dinner was excellent, service EXTRA "relaxed" --- conch fritters for a starter and calamari salad for my entrée.

The sun and previous day’s activities took a toll on everyone, so after "dinghying" back to the boat and one nightcap, we all turned in.

No internet connection to be found, although I’m able to text message on my cell. I’ll post this first chance, and hopefully can include at least a picture of the my view from the front of the boat.

Truly wish everyone could enjoy this with us.

Mojotos in Puerto Rico (Sunday)

Since this was our final day in Puerto Rico, we got an early start with a great breakfast overlooking the pool. The city seems to still be on party mode from New Year's, as this weekend marked the begnning of a 3-day celebration of Three King's Day (Tuesday), and the hotel bar was packed last night, so we were among the few people awake at 8:30a.m.

After breakfast we took a stroll down to the beach, through the plaza/park next door and checked out the promenade that extends out into the water along the beach. Evidently, the promenade is unsafe during high tide (witnessed the waves breaking heavily over the top), so it was closed. What a view!

After coaxing Scott and Gayle into getting up, we decided to spend the morning exploring old San Juan. We popped into a few souvenier places, window shopped at the jewelry stores, and took lots of pictures. All the streets are old brick, almost cobblestone; most buildings are painted in pastel colors, a lot like Bermuda. Those families who weren't at church were gathered in the plazas, still fully decorated for Christmas, several with holiday music playing. We explored the city wall and learned more about the history of San Juan.

Since this isn't Scott and Gayle's first visit to San Juan OR tour of old San Juan, we promised to end the outing at the Hard Rock Cafe --- mojitos and Medalla for all!!

After the cab ride back to the hotel, we changed into bathing suits and hit the beach to spend the afternoon watching the waves and drinking mojitos. Not much to tell, as the rest of the day went like this: sun, mojito, pool, hot tub, mojito, ocean, sun, mojito, repeat.

After another quick change, we headed back to old San Juan to the Cafe Puerto Rico, a restaurant recommended by our bartender, Jeannice. The same streets that had been practically devoid of vehicles just hours before were now jammed with cars --- it took over half an hour for what had been a 10-minute drive earlier in the day. Finally our very young cabbie, who spoke about 3 words of English, managed to get us to understand that the restaurant would be a 2-minute walk if we wanted to get out (much quicker than he could have driven in the bumper-to-bumper traffic) and would be across from the Plaza Colon "a la derecha". While I was trying to remember which was "derecha" and which was "izquierda", he pulled up at the next corner, jumped out, and said "directo", pointing up the street. Evidently $3 was a hefty tip, because he left the cab sitting in traffic and walked us up another block and pointed the restaurant out. No wonder the traffic was so heavy --- how many cabbies had abandoned their vehicles to escort their fares???

The restaurant turned out to be very small, but heavy on the native patrons and probably the best meal we have had since we arrived. Who knew plantains could be served sweet OR salty and taste absolutely different each way? Scott ordered the island specialty --- Puerto Rican pork chops, which turned out to be Baby Back Ribs (confusion on the server's part, but they were still good). The shrimp with Puerto Rican sauce (a la Criolla) had a definite Creole connection --- everything was so good there was no room for dessert.

Back to the hotel, where Scott talked us into one last mojito and visit to the casino. Gayle had gone up to pack, so Dana and I followed Scott to the craps table. And even though I have no idea how the game works, evidently I threw the dice well, because both Dana and Scott made some money. I borrowed a $20 bill from Dana and headed off to find a quarter slot machine to play. It took me forever (I have to "get a vibe" from the machine, it has to be a certain kind, I don't like playing around other people) but I settled on one way in the back, sat down and played my twenty. I won a couple of small jackpots, but soon ran out. The only other cash I had was a $100 bill from Dana's cash-out the prior night, so I decided to play another 20, then quit. That didn't last long, either, because on my third pull, I won $350 ---- IN QUARTERS!!!

Dana and Scott walked around the corner about 3 seconds after I hit my win. I guess Dana will never give me a bad time for playing the slots again!!!

We all cashed out as winners and literally danced out of the casino!!

Tomorrow morning we board a plane for a half-hour flight to St. Thomas, where we meet Captain Allan and the boat.

San Juan, Puerto Rico - Saturday

The flight to LA was without incident, and very enjoyable traveling in first class. It certainly changes your outlook on travel. Unfortunately, the flight wasn’t long enough for any kind of decent nap, so I read instead.

No long treks were needed to find the gate for our next flight from LA to San Juan; a little reading, a little review of the itinerary and we were boarding, just a few minutes later than scheduled.

Our seats were WAY back in the plane, and after some shifting around, a nice young man from Vancouver, a Boston Bruins fan, who was traveling to Dominique to attend medical school, was seated next to Dana.

After an announcement "encouraging" passengers to get situated and seated, they announced that our plane was ready to leave, but a last-minute inspection of a strut was called for and repairs iminent. Finally, after sitting on the tarmac for another 45 minutes, we were cleared for take-off.
Dana and the medical student launched into a hockey discussion while I quickly nodded off, even before take-off. I slept on and off through the night, although sleeping in coach is MUCH more difficult that sleeping in first class. Somehow I managed to get a few hours, though your spine tends to collapse on itself when you attempt to sleep sitting upright and there’s absolutely NO room to stretch out at all.

We arrived in San Juan bright and early this morning around 10:40a.m., and trekked down to baggage claim. My luggage came out right away, but Dana’s decided to worry us for a few minutes before it, too, appeared. Dana rushed out with his to have a smoke, while I was stopped for ANOTHER security check to ensure that my luggage tag matched my boarding pass. You know, I’ve been told I look mean, but never un-trustworthy!!

The weather in San Juan was balmy and in the 80’s, and I could smell the ocean, even at the airport. They have a pretty cool system of catching cabs; all arriving passengers line up, tell the attendant where they’re going and how many bags and they are given a slip with the expected cost to give to the cabbie. All the cabs were playing Latin music, and it sounded just like Miami. They use their car horns a LOT here, much like NYC, and, since there’s no smoking in the cabs, our cabbie used his windshield wiper to hold his cigar while he’s driving.

The flavor of the city is very Miami, though if you say that out loud, you are quickly told, "No, Miami looks like Puerto Rico!". La Concha Resort was a short drive, not much to see, but a really pretty hotel, very modern furnishings. Our room is at the corner of the hotel with an ocean front view, meaning, if we fell out our window we’d hit sand. The waves break outside our window big enough for surfing.

We quickly unpacked and headed down to the lobby to explore a little and get a bite to eat. I really wanted breakfast, but settled for a tasty salad with grilled gambas (shrimp). We ate outside next to one of the two pools.

After lunch we met up with Scott and Gayle --- tried to take a little rest on the beach, but it started raining as soon as the beach guy got our lounge chairs and towels situated. At first it looked like it would only sprinkle, but the dark clouds soon rolled in and we took refuge in the bar.
After several drinks and some lively discussion, we decided to head up for a short nap and to meet back in the lobby around 6:15p.m. for dinner.

I had only planned on napping for an hour or so, but was rudely awakened by Dana saying it was 6:00p.m. --- no time for anything but to throw on a dress and flip flops and head downstairs. We decided on the Lotus Blossom (like our Benihana, with the option of sushi). Not traditional Puerto Rican food, but well made, lots of it, and you couldn’t beat the company!!

You can’t stay at a casino/resort and not gamble a little, so we headed in to try our luck. Dana and Scott did well at craps, Gayle and I had fun playing some slot machines (I tried a panda machine in honor of "Kung Pu Panda" as Caleb calls it), and although I managed to win a few larger pots, I pumped it all back in. I didn’t feel too bad, though, because it was only a nickel machine.
Jet lag hit and we headed upstairs. Tomorrow we’re exploring old San Juan and its history.

P.S. The coolest thing about blogging from Puerto Rico is that some of the pages come up entirely in Spanish and some in English!! Glad I took that refresher course with you, Ness!!

Friday --- the adventure begins

I spent most of today on mindless, last-minute tasks such as laundry (have this weird thing about leaving dirty laundry at home when I go on a trip), moving the necessities from my everyday purse to my vacation purse, spending an inordinate amount of time looking for Nessa’s passport holder that she lent to me (found it in the babies’ room --- of course, I put it down on the changing table when I took their clean laundry in to put it away) and, oh yeah, packing. I’m sure I packed way too much, but, oh well.

I jumped on the computer to check on our flight and found that it was delayed 1 hour, 10 minutes from the original departure date. I took that opportunity to sign up for updates about our flight that would be sent to my cell, called my brother (our ride to SFO) and was actually a little happy that I now had an extra hour at home. Dana being the nervous flyer he is, we planned on leaving our house 3 hours prior to the flight’s departure, not knowing what traffic would be, etc. Turned out traffic was inordinately light until just before we hit the airport, and the dreaded circle around the airport was practically deserted. By the time we got inside with our luggage, everyone was being directed to the self-service check-in kiosks. In hindsight, the fact that only 4-5 of the 20 or so kiosks were actually operational was a warning.

After ‘fessing up to the kiosk that we were checking in 2 bags ($15 each), we were immediately offerred an upgrade to first class, although for only the leg to LA. We decided to splurge, at which point the kiosk told us they wouldn’t charge us for the luggage --- a pretty good trade, we thought. Evidently, first class passengers don’t get charged for baggage ---- a fact unknown to us before now.

As it turns out though, only 2 of the 20 kiosks were actually capable of printing out luggage tags, so we were glad we had extra time. So, how many employees does it take to check in 2 pieces of luggage, you ask? Evidently on this airline it takes 4 --- 3 to stand around laughing and joking with each other and one to be totally frustrated with the non-working technology. After 15 minutes or so, our bags were checked in and we were ready to go through security.

I was still fumbling with where my passport was, and Dana was holding all the boarding passes, and even though there was no one behind us, the guy at the first check-point wasn’t amused, because he directed us to a little "holding area" to the side and called for back-up. After standing in our pen watching our fellow passengers breeze through to scan their luggage and shoes, we were ushered past them, to a "special" security check-point. At first, I thought it was the check-in for first class passengers, but no. . . sadly mistaken. After removing shoes, jewelry, etc. and sending everything through the scanner, we were ushered to a second pen, this time a totally glassed-in area with a locked door at the exit end. During this second move, my phone started ringing (another update from American, as it turns out).

So, there we stood in a glass enclosure with another couple I’ll call Mr. and Mrs. Mumbai, awaiting our special security check. Our carryon luggage was scanned thoroughly; my bag was declared as "having a lot of toiletries" in it. Then we were escorted to a third area, where we were patted down THOROUGHLY, and our carryon luggage inspected visually, every item removed and scrutinized.
Perhaps we jumped too quickly at the chance to travel first class, perhaps a warning bell should have gone off when Dana agreed to the extra, non-necessary charge. I’m half expecting to find Scott was responsible for our special treatment when we arrive in Puerto Rico.

At any rate, we laughed about having so much time before our flight departed, but the laughter soon stopped when I retrieved the voicemail notification from American telling us that our flight would depart another half our later. This is cutting our layover in LA down from the original 3 hours. We’re hoping there won’t be further delays, although I keep hearing Dale's dire warnings about flying on American Airlines. . .