6 June 2008
We are on a hunt for Esmeralda; a macaw parrot that is. Inspired by a live one in a resort that we visited in St. John, Kuno and Tatiana are determined to get a wooden copy of Esmeralda to hang from our porch at home. Not a little one, oh no, we are talking a two footer, painted in bright colors. It seems entirely impossible for someone who prides herself on being stylish like me to actually agree for them to buy one. But here we are, in a store in St. Croix, trying to buy Esmeralda that is hanging on a swing from the ceiling. To my relief, the storekeeper says that it is for decoration only, not for sale. Her little grandson, about five years old, then looks with big angelic eyes at Kuno and says very seriously: “It is not for sale. It is attached to the wall. Don’t you know that when things are attached to the wall they are not for sale?” While Tatiana stomps indignantly from the store, Kuno and I are killing ourselves laughing. And I, for one, am thinking, phew, maybe they will forget about Esmeralda in a few days.
We are in the US Virgin Islands. The distance between the British and US Virgin Islands is only a few miles, but for us it feels like entering a different world. After two months of cruising in the heart of the Caribbean, exposed to different foods, attitudes, languages and quality of service, coming to the US side feels in some ways like coming home. Disturbing as a reminder of the excessiveness of the North American lifestyle, but let me tell you, clean washrooms and a well stocked grocery store are a real treat. We first land on St. John Island and the bay where we anchor reminds us of being in Desolation Sound. Enclosed from almost all sides by different islands, the evening anchorage is calm and peaceful. It even starts to drizzle for a while to complete the feeling of being home. St. John, dotted by ruins of past sugar plantations, is now a national park, back in its natural state. The Rockefeller family, who’s presence is noted all over the Virgin Islands, owned and donated large portion of the island for preservation. We swim with huge turtles and sting rays, and snorkel on a reef just off the beach that has some of the most amazing colors and creatures that I have ever seen. he intricacy and detail of the coral reef is amazing. Thousands of tiny fish swim in an ever changing pattern and Tatiana spends the longest time swimming with them and watching them switch their pattern and direction on a flick of her hand or fin, in perfect harmony as if following some invisible conductor.
Craving a day of luxury on land after a few days on anchor, we get crafty and join a timeshare presentation at the prestigious St. John Westin in exchange for the use of their facilities and a voucher for both lunch and dinner in the resort (did I mention that cruisers are a really cheap lot?). And no, despite their well orchestrated efforts, we do not get sucked into purchasing a timeshare, although some of their properties around the world are amazing.
From St. John we hop over to the town of Charlotte Amalie on St. Thomas, the most developed and touristy of the three USVIs. We anchor just a little bit away from the cruise ship pier and every morning wake up to the view of yet another giant (or two). In high season, it would be more like four or five. It is actually quite funny how the town lives in the rhythm of the cruise ships. On days when there is no ship in port, the streets are dead and most stores are closed. On days when a cruise ship is in port, the town is hopping until five o’clock when the ship departs 
and then the quiet descends again. While a grocery store is nowhere to be seen, there is upwards of 50 jewelry stores in a row, servicing the cruise ships. How they can survive is inconceivable to me despite the low prices and tax free status. To do my part of supporting the local merchants, I too set out on a shopping spree. After two months, several of my items are broken and so I replace my prized Maui Jim polarized sunglasses (that got broken while we were crash landing our dinghy in Barbuda) as well as my camera (that got destroyed during a dinghy crash landing in St. Martin). The watch and the evening dress that also end up in the shopping bag…. well that just sort of happened, I can't blame those on the dinghy. And for Tatiana, two heavy bags of books!!
We are on a hunt for Esmeralda; a macaw parrot that is. Inspired by a live one in a resort that we visited in St. John, Kuno and Tatiana are determined to get a wooden copy of Esmeralda to hang from our porch at home. Not a little one, oh no, we are talking a two footer, painted in bright colors. It seems entirely impossible for someone who prides herself on being stylish like me to actually agree for them to buy one. But here we are, in a store in St. Croix, trying to buy Esmeralda that is hanging on a swing from the ceiling. To my relief, the storekeeper says that it is for decoration only, not for sale. Her little grandson, about five years old, then looks with big angelic eyes at Kuno and says very seriously: “It is not for sale. It is attached to the wall. Don’t you know that when things are attached to the wall they are not for sale?” While Tatiana stomps indignantly from the store, Kuno and I are killing ourselves laughing. And I, for one, am thinking, phew, maybe they will forget about Esmeralda in a few days.
We are in the US Virgin Islands. The distance between the British and US Virgin Islands is only a few miles, but for us it feels like entering a different world. After two months of cruising in the heart of the Caribbean, exposed to different foods, attitudes, languages and quality of service, coming to the US side feels in some ways like coming home. Disturbing as a reminder of the excessiveness of the North American lifestyle, but let me tell you, clean washrooms and a well stocked grocery store are a real treat. We first land on St. John Island and the bay where we anchor reminds us of being in Desolation Sound. Enclosed from almost all sides by different islands, the evening anchorage is calm and peaceful. It even starts to drizzle for a while to complete the feeling of being home. St. John, dotted by ruins of past sugar plantations, is now a national park, back in its natural state. The Rockefeller family, who’s presence is noted all over the Virgin Islands, owned and donated large portion of the island for preservation. We swim with huge turtles and sting rays, and snorkel on a reef just off the beach that has some of the most amazing colors and creatures that I have ever seen. he intricacy and detail of the coral reef is amazing. Thousands of tiny fish swim in an ever changing pattern and Tatiana spends the longest time swimming with them and watching them switch their pattern and direction on a flick of her hand or fin, in perfect harmony as if following some invisible conductor.Craving a day of luxury on land after a few days on anchor, we get crafty and join a timeshare presentation at the prestigious St. John Westin in exchange for the use of their facilities and a voucher for both lunch and dinner in the resort (did I mention that cruisers are a really cheap lot?). And no, despite their well orchestrated efforts, we do not get sucked into purchasing a timeshare, although some of their properties around the world are amazing.
From St. John we hop over to the town of Charlotte Amalie on St. Thomas, the most developed and touristy of the three USVIs. We anchor just a little bit away from the cruise ship pier and every morning wake up to the view of yet another giant (or two). In high season, it would be more like four or five. It is actually quite funny how the town lives in the rhythm of the cruise ships. On days when there is no ship in port, the streets are dead and most stores are closed. On days when a cruise ship is in port, the town is hopping until five o’clock when the ship departs 
and then the quiet descends again. While a grocery store is nowhere to be seen, there is upwards of 50 jewelry stores in a row, servicing the cruise ships. How they can survive is inconceivable to me despite the low prices and tax free status. To do my part of supporting the local merchants, I too set out on a shopping spree. After two months, several of my items are broken and so I replace my prized Maui Jim polarized sunglasses (that got broken while we were crash landing our dinghy in Barbuda) as well as my camera (that got destroyed during a dinghy crash landing in St. Martin). The watch and the evening dress that also end up in the shopping bag…. well that just sort of happened, I can't blame those on the dinghy. And for Tatiana, two heavy bags of books!! 
To mix things up a bit, instead of sailing to St. Croix, the third USVI, we hop on a seaplane and spend two days there as proper tourists, staying at a mosquito infested hotel and speed sightseeing in a rental car. 
St. Croix is wonderful – relaxed, friendly, full of artists and beautiful historical buildings. The east end of the island is deserty while the west end is lush and contains a tropical rainforest. In the rainforest, hanging air roots from the canopy above the road hit our windshield and gracefully swing by as we drive through them. We spend a long time exploring the Frederickvaern Fort in the main town of Christiansted, the deep turquoise ocean creating a perfect backdrop to its yellow walls. Like most of the town, the Government House is a beautifully restored building from the 18th century. While there, Tatiana takes the opportunity to get sworn in as the new governor, promptly followed by a dance performance in the splendid ballroom. 
A bit of an anomaly in the Caribbean, the USVIs were for the longest time owned by Denmark and purchased by the US for strategic reasons only at the onset of the First World War. St. Croix, unlike most other islands, also has a solid economical support in the form of Hovensa – 
supposedly the largest oil refinery in the Northern Hemisphere. Despite Tatiana’s heavy objections (who could blame her for having two geeky parents), we drive across the island in hopes of a tour of the facility, but find it out of reach behind several layers of barbed wire and no stopping signs. I sneak a few pictures, but feel like any minute I could go to jail if caught. The size of the facility is impressive, yet it seems to blend into the island without destroying its beauty and charm. Instead of the oil refinery tour, we then opt for the much more accessible Cruzan Rum Distillery tour. Tatiana walks around with her nose pinched, as fermenting sugar cane smell permeates the air. It surprises us that the fermentation only takes 24 hours. The process is quite simple, but obviously there are many tricks along the way to get the right product. To great anno
yance of the remainder of our tour group, who just want to get to the rum tasting at the end, we ask many questions and often get lost behind some barrel or drum, exploring yet another set of intriguing pipes… Tatiana is embarrassed and now definitely wants a different set of parents. Things don’t improve too much from her point of view when we drag her to the botanical gardens in the lunch time heat, but once we find some interesting specimens that we have never seen before, like the Cannonball tree and the Sausage tree, things start looking up. We have to make a concession though and eliminate the planned sugar plantation tour – apparently she had seen enough of those to last her a lifetime. I have to agree. At lunch Kuno and I browse through the real estate magazines dreaming of what life would be like if… Oh wait, we are living the dream!
Unfortunately, time is no longer on our side and when we return to Charlotte Amalie, it is time to move. We finish a few last chores and leave for the Spanish Virgin Islands in Puerto Rico. We have sailed about 400 miles so far and have about 1200 more to go to reach Ft. Lauderdale. And we are more than halfway through our four months. The math is not adding up favourably. The wind and current will likely be cooperating in this direction, but the stretches between islands and ports are longer and the Bahamas are full of reefs. The forecast of above normal hurricane activity is in the back of my mind as we are planning the route north. The leisurely days of doing nothing will be replaced by deliberate progress toward home now... Puerto Rico, Dominican, Bahamas, Florida.
supposedly the largest oil refinery in the Northern Hemisphere. Despite Tatiana’s heavy objections (who could blame her for having two geeky parents), we drive across the island in hopes of a tour of the facility, but find it out of reach behind several layers of barbed wire and no stopping signs. I sneak a few pictures, but feel like any minute I could go to jail if caught. The size of the facility is impressive, yet it seems to blend into the island without destroying its beauty and charm. Instead of the oil refinery tour, we then opt for the much more accessible Cruzan Rum Distillery tour. Tatiana walks around with her nose pinched, as fermenting sugar cane smell permeates the air. It surprises us that the fermentation only takes 24 hours. The process is quite simple, but obviously there are many tricks along the way to get the right product. To great anno
yance of the remainder of our tour group, who just want to get to the rum tasting at the end, we ask many questions and often get lost behind some barrel or drum, exploring yet another set of intriguing pipes… Tatiana is embarrassed and now definitely wants a different set of parents. Things don’t improve too much from her point of view when we drag her to the botanical gardens in the lunch time heat, but once we find some interesting specimens that we have never seen before, like the Cannonball tree and the Sausage tree, things start looking up. We have to make a concession though and eliminate the planned sugar plantation tour – apparently she had seen enough of those to last her a lifetime. I have to agree. At lunch Kuno and I browse through the real estate magazines dreaming of what life would be like if… Oh wait, we are living the dream!Unfortunately, time is no longer on our side and when we return to Charlotte Amalie, it is time to move. We finish a few last chores and leave for the Spanish Virgin Islands in Puerto Rico. We have sailed about 400 miles so far and have about 1200 more to go to reach Ft. Lauderdale. And we are more than halfway through our four months. The math is not adding up favourably. The wind and current will likely be cooperating in this direction, but the stretches between islands and ports are longer and the Bahamas are full of reefs. The forecast of above normal hurricane activity is in the back of my mind as we are planning the route north. The leisurely days of doing nothing will be replaced by deliberate progress toward home now... Puerto Rico, Dominican, Bahamas, Florida.
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