I divided my time, this trip between Tortola and my more familiar haunt of Culebra, PR. Both have their charms, but my short stay in the BVI left me hungry for more, specifically aboard a sailing vessel. Thanks to all who advised me here at TTOL. Here is my trip log prepared for friends who couldn't come:

Clearing customs at EIS consumed the last of the daylight allotted to Friday, Mar. 2nd. My instructions were to exit the terminal and walk the 100 meters to Trellis Bay, and find Seabbatical, on which my friends from STL were to be spending a last night before flying home. Notwithstanding the full moon to come, I could only make out mast lights and decorative lights out on the bay. I splurged and made a couple $3.50 a minute cell phone calls, but could only raise voicemail.

At the advice of Sam, my chauffer for the next few days, I popped into Jeremy Wright’s Cyber Café and he was kind enough to radio the boat, periodically, as I quaffed my first BVI Presidente and ordered a ‘Special’ fish sandwich (on my ‘Best Of’ list) and kicked back to breath in the Islon air. There were only a few souls about, but a friendly vibe prevailed, powered by reggae from a DJ playing to the deserted campfire on the beach. Jeremy showed me some artwork by his sister, and offered me the use of his internet facilities. A couple of blokes from down under joined us at the bar and the banter centered on how Jeremy has managed to create an east-end Full Moon Party for folks whose bedtime and party habits aren’t suited to the famous Cappoon’s Bay version at Bomba’s Surfside Shack. Featuring large ornate filigree balls filled with firewood and torched into blazing firedancing infernos, Wright’s party takes Fire Art to a new level.

I thanked Jeremy for his hospitality and a call to Sam ended my long day with a ride to Lambert’s Beach Resort, where I spent my first night, with the idea of meeting my Cuban friend, Orlando, at the airport the next day and heading over the ridge to Cane Garden Bay.

On Saturday, Sam collected me at the appointed time and we headed to the airport. After untangling a little misinformation, I managed to snag mi amigo and we were on our way. Sam had his beautiful American companion along and her young son, Nicholas, who we soon learned was, on that day, no longer three, but FOUR –with the correct number of fingers splayed to make his point. I decided that the occasion demanded that a bright, uncirculated Washington/Liberty “gold” dollar from my stash was the perfect way to wish him a Happy one. With a stop at Rite-Way for a case of Presidente and a styrofoam cooler, the afternoon was half gone when we pulled up to Rhymer’s. The view coming over the top was not a disappointment. Cane Garden Bay was as advertised, with enough open air bars and restaurants to never have to repeat ourselves.

We checked in and unpacked while sipping rum-and-diets. We took them out on the balcony and met our neighbors for the sunset. After a cod sandwich next door, we chilled out for a bit before grabbing a taxi to Cappoon’s. The total eclipse was under way, and it came into view with every turn of the switchback.

Once at Bomba’s, rainclouds blew in and gave us periodic spritzes and short soaks. On a lark, we tried the tea, but found it too weak to offer anything but funky feelings in the gut. Friend remarked on vivid dreams the next day, but remains a virgin to recognizable psychotropic experience. Back at CGB, we bar hopped and crashed.

Sunday was JVD day. Water taxis were a bit difficult to come by, but we ultimately managed to tag along with Julian’s group which was supposed to be a bar hopping tour. It was very disorganized for a tour, and that was for the best, because Foxy’s was dead and the strip of cool divey bars at White Bay was kicking. After three or four Soggy Dollar Painkillers with our new friends, Mandy from London and Suzanne from Ohio, we set off in search of lunch. Mandy knew of a cool spot called Gertrude’s where the Chicken Roti was delicious and the Dominican barmaid, Olga, was buxom and fun. Mandy, who had lived on Tortola for a stretch, was greeted by all the locals and managed to keep the DJ in a fine music groove to amuse her new friends. Julian appeared and rounded up his charges for brief cocktail/shopping stops at Foxy’s again and Sydney’s Peace and Love. That evening, we music hopped CGB and left a trail of gold dollars.

Monday, there was a cruise ship, so we walked to far end of CGB to the open-air Wedding Bar. The place was open but deserted. We waited on ourselves and suggested to a few others who came and went to do likewise. Finally the proprietor arrived and we ordered fish sandwiches. We were talking with some youngsters about Jost when Mandy and Suzanne walked in with local gentlemen who looked a bit familiar. Mandy opened with, “ I cannot believe your STAMINA, last night”. God love her. Innocently, she had made every guy in the place realize what respect I deserve! We mentioned how we had harassed the band the night before, trying to get them to play Iko Iko, and Mandy’s companion said, “I know. I’m the drummer”. Love those Painkillers.

We headed back up the beach to Rhymer’s, stopping at the Calwood Distillery and at a bar that was no more than a picnic table and 4 coolers. We turned a few new friends on to Caribbean Cocktails, nothing more than a Presidente enjoyed while waist or chest deep in Mother Ocean. By this time my liver alarm was clanging that a nap was a must. I trudged up and crashed. I awoke just after dark and showered. No sign of Cuban friend, but I figured he had paced better than I, or might be snoozing on a chaise on the balcony. I was consulting with the lady at the desk, when a few of the local creole women entered the lobby from the beach supporting a wobbly roommate. He vowed he was fine, and after splashing a bit of water on his face we set out for dinner at Myett’s. We ordered the fish special and a bottle of Sauvignon. The waiter had scarcely taken our order to the kitchen when my friend went sort of stony blank and announced it was bed time. Off he went. I enjoyed mine, and they packed his up in Styrofoam and I took it back to the room.

I remember dancing my heart out that night with several beautiful tourists. Not a clear recollection of any specific song or the band but my cheeks were aching the next morning from grinning. Sam arrived at the appointed hour and deposited us at EIS for the Air Sunshine flight to Vieques.
(to be continued in the PR/USVI forum}

Doug