This next friend, was well acquainted with St. John in the Virgin Islands. Matt, who we endearingly call Red, lived in St. John just after he finished college. So it only seemed fitting we meet him at a bar in St. John …Coral Bay, Skinny Legs! Burgers and Beers. What more does a cruiser really need?

We made a few stops to favorite places like Normans Island, the Willy Ts and to the northern section of Francis Bay, St. John. It was a genuinely beautiful time, Red with his puns, Mike with his computer programing talk, Kirsten with her music and every day we’d drop that and go snorkeling. It wasn’t until our passage from St. John Virgin Islands to Puerto Rico we saw any drama.

Red was behind the helm sailing at a run (the wind was directly at our stern), all sails in flight as far as they could reach. Mike and I were leisurely sitting with the fishing poll stuck in its nook towing a fake plastic squid to catch a tasty fish. All was boring and calm and then ZZZZZZZIIIIING. In light air I brought in the main and tried to furl in the genoa to slow the boat and get the sails out of the way…. This was a lot easier in thought than action. We lost too much speed, the sails backed and the fish, that dang fish, which Mike was reeling in decided to swim right underneath the boat and wrap around something down there. All of a sudden turning on the motor looks like a bad idea…. What if the fish wrapped the line around the prop? Turning on the engine would mean cutting the line to our dinner – BUT if the fish somehow got the line stuck on the rudder, it would fine…. Instead of taking down the boarding ladder and diving in… we opted for continuing on our trip to the island of Culebrita where we would anchor under sail. But not before flogging the sails for another 20 minutes. The furling line on the genoa was caught and had to be manually rolled-in then out and untangled with pliers… ah the joys of sailing.

We had a beautiful sail into Culebrita where there’s a protected sandy bottom bay – excellent holding. We anchored under sail like pros; no engines used all day! What an accomplishment. We found Culebrita to be absolutely pristine and Red needed no coaxing to dive immediately into the water to check if the fish was still ensnared under the boat. To all of our dismay the fish got away but we still had the lure and hook so there’s always next time. On the bright side, I woke up the next morning and watched turtles come up for air and dive back down. It was the largest amount of turtles in one bay I’d ever witnessed and was wonderfully serene.

With St. John and Jost Van Dyke covered, our next destination to discover was Virgin Gorda (the fat virgin). We had a great sail from Peter Island to the Bitter End, Tom took a go at the helm and sailed Gaia close hauled like he’d been doing it for months. In the afternoon we anchored in the calm waters of Eustatius and just right of the famous shallow snorkeling. Since Saba Rock was only a cables throw away we dinghy-ed over for the cocktails and tarpon feeding. Saba Rock has such a relaxed vibe, it’s where all the cool dinghies go to hang out and their owners sit idly on the dock drinking their high-priced cocktails watching kite surfers perform jaw-dropping tricks.

We learned there was a full moon party in Trellis Bay and made sail for Tortola to have our own experience in the full moon revelry. We arrived at Trellis Bay… and it was packed, more aptly defined as a sh!t show or a fog of boat masts – it was tightly anchored. Let’s put it this way; being between a rock and hard place was beginning to look roomy. We slowly and carefully meandered the premise, in hopes to find something the other 10 boats in front of us didn’t and sure enough! Winner! On the outer edge close to shore! We surreptitiously motored over, I felt like the submarine commander in WW II b&w movie trying to creep along enemy lines. There were hungry sailboats in every direction eager to jump on a mooring ball or sink their anchor in any ole patch of open water. We maneuvered to the cramped but unoccupied pocket and crept to a halt to anchor. This is what we had been training for. These past six months of hand signals, strong currents, timing, placement…. after 2 tries we anchored in just the right area. We were golden! We watched as other sad boaters skimmed past our transom with forlorn looks of despair at not finding anything.

We decided to grab a drink before dinner at this small island in the middle of the harbor. All the reviews made mention of young English hipsters who ran the bar. Of course we had to investigate these ‘youngens’. We arrived seconds after the bartender opened for business and had our first round of margs. We meandered to the outside and found a spacious yard with giant jenga, swings made from crates to lounge on, cornhole, fussball, every hipster/frat outdoor game you could think of, it was adult recess.

The moon began to rise as the sun sunk beyond the horizon, when we saw flames on the beach we took that as our calling. Live festive music was playing at full blast upon arrival and our friends Megs & Tom just happened to be sitting not 10 feet away from the dinghy dock and almost done with their first round of drinks. We roamed the beach and perused the art village and all the amazing steel creations and designs. There was a family friendly area and fires ablaze every hundred yards or so. There were several dance parties & jumby walkers spread out but the main attraction were these sculptures stuffed with paper and lit on fire. It was the Burning Man of the Virgin Islands! Far more tame but far more accessible for us. We enjoyed our 2 EC red stripes and danced until Megs & Tom and Nils & Lisa had to catch the last free ferry back across the channel. It was fun festive and lively. Definitely check it out if you’re in the area.

Day 4 was the day I had been waiting for, a visit to The Baths! You’re not allowed to bring your dinghy to shore, instead there are bouys to attach your tender and then you’re expected to swim ashore. All guidebooks mention the swim is not for the weak. Ok, but I’m young and fit and most guidebooks tell me a 3mile hike in the VIs is considered difficult, which I politely disagree with. I took the warnings with a grain of salt. Don’t do what I did the swim can be difficult. There are surges that roll through and crash after the steep dropoff on the beach. What our guidebook failed to mention is the red flags on the beach signaled there are stronger than usual wave conditions. Great. We had snorkels and flotation devices, we all made it in but not without an exhausting fight.

Finally! Our efforts finally paid off in the form of this magnificent and wild scenery. We found the path for tourists and quickly found our way up and away from the path.

We spent the night in Spanish Town and found the ocean front restaurants to be a bit pricey and with a less than local feel. We ended up talking to a driver in an open-aired bus who dropped us off at one of his favorite restaurants. It was a perfect mom n pop restaurant with outdoor seating and ridiculously good bbq. Yay! Does life get better? Sailing, adventuring, bouldering, friends, bbq, and fresh passion juice.

We spent the night in a marina because the swells were just too rowdy in the anchorage for top-heavy Gaia to spend the night. And the following day we had a  great sail to Norman Island. We tried racing a catamaran but once they realized how to  use the entire main sail we were toast. Norman Island in the afternoon was fairly crowded. The wind had picked up and the few anchoring spots were filled with other boats. We looped around the vast mooring field for the second time as rain began to pour. It was then a voice from heaven (or the mist) called out to Gaia. ‘There’s a mooring behind you!’ Sure enough, an off-colored mooring was indeed bobbing helplessly in the wind. Mike tried his best to keep the bow steady in line with the mooring ball pendant and I cumbersomely hitched a dock line with Tom and cleated it off securing Gaia for the night. I came back slightly chilled and soaking wet. Danise informed me there were gusts up to 30 knots while I was on the bow. I nodded my head feeling a little badass that we had just secured Gaia so effortlessly. It really does make all the difference having another pair of hands on deck.

We “quickly” sailed downwind to St. Thomas to pick up Corey and Jamie in the large harbor of Charlotte Amalie. It’s a large flat sandy harbor so we picked any old spot away from the ferries only to find that seaplanes had their own unofficial runway at our stern, which we found to be entertaining. Their plane landed right as we anchored so we jetted straight to the airport…. And just in time I might add…. As we bumped into good ole Corey & Jamie at the airport (who had been giddily sipping free rum samples), they immediately steered us over to a long line for car rentals…. Asking us if we recognized anyone… and by George …of all the gin joints… our college friend Sarah whom, we both met through NEUs outdoor club NUHOC, was standing there! We had traveled thousands of miles away from home over the course of 6 months and, still, we serendipitously bumped into friends from home. Everyone was engulfed in hugs and disbelief asking the same dumbfounded question “Wow, what-the, when, how are you?!?!?!”Because Mike & I were so organized our first order of business was to go grocery shopping in St. Thomas. Fun! Our first night we ate out in town, arriving just in time for happy hour. With beer and cocktails in hand, we made a game plan for the next 5 days – Circumnavigate ST. JOHN! Before leaving we meandered the town of Charlotte Amalie, known for its jewelry district. I found the Dutch influence in architecture to be of far greater interest; the buildings were made-up of old weathered stone walls with thick heavy wooden doorways and fat metal latches beautifully fashioned from a time period I can only imagine.

St. John, day 1: We beat into the wind (‘beat’ is sailing jargon for bashing the bow of your sailboat into or close to the wind – aka not fun sailing) to St. John and hooked onto a National Park mooring. We snorkeled the area, spotting several stingrays and a turtle and the next morning we ran the dinghy onto shore in Reef Bay. 

 
There are ruins of an old sugar mill in great condition complete with an old steam engine built in Glasgow, Scotland. Being the hiking fans we are, we chose to keep hiking and explored the petroglyphs of Reef Bay. These stone carvings are thought to represent a spiritual place for the Taino, Arawak people from pre-Columbian times (anywhere between 600-1,000 years ago). As a kid, I like most, wanted to be Indiana Jones. So crouching down on this uneven rock near a flat pool of water, it was… exciting… to think; 600 years ago someone in this exact spot was carving this image into the stone to honor the spirits and that’s how they spent their day. We spent the rest of our day grabbing a mooring in Salt Pond Bay and hiking Rams Head and snorkeling crystal clear waters. Rams Head is a high jagged bluff on the south east side of St. John and has a bloody past. In 1733 a great slave rebellion took place on St. John, lasting for several months. French & Swiss troops eventually arrived putting a stop to the insurrection. The grim denouement of the rebellion ended with a group of 300 slaves jumping to their death at Rams Head point instead of returning to the overlords and torturous life of a slave. We arrived at the SW summit and looked around at the steep and dramatic cliffside and jagged rocks below. An impending rainstorm brought strong winds tearing over the summit so we looked around silently and quickly returned to the boat in awe. A tiny lizard attacked me on the way back, jumping onto my hand for an instant before flinging itself off into the bushes. Taking me by surprise, I screamed. Mike laughed and recounted the time a flying fish almost hit me in the cockpit on our passage to Bermuda.

Our next anchorage was a sporty sail into Coral Bay where we made an impromptu stop at a floating bar. We were only going to check it out but the proprietor was so damn friendly…. And how do you say no to rum punches at a floating bar, I have not yet found the strength or craziness to say no …. So out of the dinghy onto the floating pontoon. There was a bed on the other end with a long curtain to partition his room off and in the center there was a circular glass floor under a glass table. At night, you could turn on underwater lights and watch the tarpon swim underneath. There was a full kitchen/bar setup, bathroom, and even a second floor to sunbathe on. He explained how he built the entire set up from scratch and wanted to put it up on a B&B site.  He plans to offer a package deal where he’ll captain the vessel out to anchorages around St. John and leave you with a couple kayaks, then he would return and move you to a next destination. For a more adventurous demographic, I could see this working out beautifully.

dinner at Skinny Legs – asininely great burgers! ;)

Our last few days we explored Jost Van Dyke enjoying pain killers from the Soggy Dollar Bar, (supposedly where the recipe was created) and danced on the beach with a bunch of spring breakers having a good time. The Soggy Dollar gets its name from boaters arriving, throwing down their anchor, then swimming to shore for a drink; there’s even a line with clothespins to dry out the sopping-wet tens and twenties. After enough partying we spent the night off Maho Beach and dinghied into Cruz Bay where by Corey and Jamie’s combined worldly knowledge won trivia night! Technically we didn’t win win, the bar tenders won but they had won every trivia night for the past month and we had the severe disadvantage since teams were allowed to buy the moderator drinks in exchange for points…. Bartenders won again but team Masshole Sailors came in second place.