As we are now celebrating the inauguration of Barack Obama as the first African American President of the United States, I thought it might be a good time to honor two of the Virgin islands African American first’s, William Hastie and Melvin Evans.

William Hastie

Dr. William H. Hastie
Born in Knoxville, Tennessee in 1904, William Hastie became the first African American Governor of the United States Virgin Islands in 1946 and served until to 1949. He later became the first African American judge on a US Federal appeals court and became Chief Judge of that court in 1968.

Hastie graduated magna cum laude at Amherst College and attended Harvard Law School receiving his doctorate there. He became a law professor at Howard University where one of his students, Thurgood Marshall,  went on to become the first African American Justice of the US Supreme Court.

Melvin Evans

Melvin Herbert Evans
Born in St. Croix, Virgin Islands in 1917, Melvin Evans became the first popularly elected governor of the Virgin Islands (1970 -1975). Evans went on to become the first black delegate to represent the Virgin Islands in the US House of Representatives (1979–1981). He later served as US Ambassador to Triniad and Tobago until his death in 1984.

We had the pleasure of spending Sunday on beautiful Trunk Bay, St. John with our friends and friend’s friends from St. Thomas and St. John. It was a real international get together with people from all over.

International Picnic - Trunk Bay, St. John Virgin Islands

The international gang:
Hortensia (Mexico City)
Mokira (Republic of the Congo) and wife, Moiya (Atlanta)
Simina and her mother, Mariana (Romania)
Michaela, Catherine, Erolynn (the mother), Aileen and Caroline (Micronesia)
Dominic Sibley (in back, Virgin Islands)
Mathew, (Austrailia), his wife, Margarita, (Philippines) and their daughter, Olivia
Mokira and Moiya’s children, Jess and Bijue and Hortensia’s daughter, Marisol (front)
Gerald (Cambridge, MA) and Habiba (Afghanistan)

(Our son, Jacob, was too busy jumping over the waves to get into the photo – see below)
Photo by Richard Penn

Jacob (St. Thomas Virgin Islands) -Too Busy Jumping to Get in the Photo

NPS Playground, Cruz Bay St. John USVI

Jacob and Argena sharing a bike

It was a busy Sunday at the National Park Service playground at the Cruz Bay Creek. Kids were coming and going all day. Kids brought bicycles, tricycles and scooters and played on the playground equipment.

Jacob shared his bike with his schoolmate Argena

Even the iguanas got into the act. I’m not sure what it is that they’re doing, but I’ll assume that it’s not x-rated and that the green one is riding on his mother’s back. But I would love to hear from some zoologist or iguana expert to get their take on the playground activity.

Iguanas at the NPS Playground

Hanging On

The governor of the Virgin Islands, John deJongh,  has proclaimed that Tuesday, January 20, 2009, will be celebrated as “President Barack Obama Day.”

Barack Obama and Governor John deJongh

Governor deJongh expressed the monumental significance that the inauguration of the first African American to become president of the United States will hold for residents of the Virgin Islands and, of course, for the nation at large and probably for the world, saying, “We made the proclamation and gave our government employees the day off because a truly historic event will take place on Tuesday, January 20 and I believe it will undoubtedly be the type event that people years from now will ask the question: ‘Where were you when Barack Obama was sworn in as our 44th President?’ and each of us will remember where we were at that exact moment” and that it was his “hope that the citizens of our Territory will take this opportunity to watch and share this historic moment with their families, especially with our children, to ensure that they understand what it means for them and the opportunities that this signifies for the next generation.”

Today’s blog entry is not about, nor does it take place on, St. John, the Virgin Islands or the Caribbean. The only excuse I can make for putting it on a Caribbean Travel blog would be that I wrote it and I’m in the Caribbean, on St. John and writing this blog, or perhaps I could say it provides some insight into the life and times of Gerald Singer before St. John, or just perhaps, that it’s a damn good story, and a true one at that.

So we leave sunny St. John in the US Virgin Islands for the cold gray skies of Buffalo,  New York in the United States of America for the story called:

The Thallus Of Marchantia
by Gerald Singer
SeeStJohn.com

In 1963 I attended the State University of New York at Buffalo, formerly known as the University of Buffalo. The university had an extremely large freshman class that was disproportionate to the number of students in the upper classes. It was assumed that more than half of the freshmen would either drop out or be kicked out their first year.

Certain courses were required for all students and these classes would ordinarily be taken in the freshman and sophomore years. Because there were thousands of freshmen in the school, the required courses were generally held in large lecture halls attended by literally hundreds of students. One of these courses was Botany 101, which was the superficial study of all the plants in the world, how they are classified, what their properties are and what they are called. It can be an interesting study, but in the large lecture hall with a boring droning professor it was more of a challenge to one’s ability to stay awake under extreme circumstances.

At the end of the semester there would be a final exam. The preparation for this exam led to the inevitable crazy cram sessions and all nighters. The students would often study together drinking coffee (or ingesting stronger stimulants) to stay awake and try to make up in one night for all the missed classes and for all the times when full attention was not paid to the lecturer.

Late in night one of the students, cramming away for the Botany final exam, began studying the section of his textbook pertaining to plants known as liverworts. He came upon the section dealing with the Marchantia, which has a stem-like structure known as a thallus and reproduces asexually by forming gemmae on the upper surface of the thallus that starts new plants. “Extremely interesting” said the student sarcastically; “the Marchantia reproduces asexually by means of a thallus. Marchantia…Thallus…” He liked the sound of the words as they rolled smoothly off his Dexedrine stimulated tongue. “Thallus… Marchantia … The Thallus of Marchantia … The Thallus of Marchantia … Hey guys … The Thallus of Marchantia… sounds like royalty doesn’t it … The Thallus of Marchantia.

The fellow students agreed. They liked the sound of the phrase. They laughed and made jokes about his Majesty the Thallus of Marchantia. Then suddenly a student came up with an absolutely marvelous idea. “Let’s call the Buffalo Evening News and tell them that Thallus of Marchantia is coming to Buffalo” “Great idea!” agreed the others. “You call… No you…Where’s the phone? Hello, Buffalo Evening News… The Thallus of Marchantia is coming to Buffalo…”

The December 15, 1964 edition of the prestigious Buffalo Evening News contained a small article announcing the event. The headline for the story was something like Dignitary to Visit Here and the story went on that an Arab potentate, the Thallus of Marchantia would be visiting Buffalo as part of his tour of the United States.
“Marchantia”, they added sagely at the end of the article, “is an island in Arabia”.

Inspired by the actual appearance of the story in Buffalo Evening News, the pranksters broadened the scope of their hoax. Word spread throughout the student body and everyone wanted to get in on the joke. It was decided that since the Thallus of Marchantia was, after all, from Arabia, he was probably anti-Semitic or at least anti-Zionist and his visit should be protested. On the other hand it was possible that the Thallus was really a good guy and was being maligned by unfound rumors and, consequently, his visit to Buffalo should not be ruined by undeserved protests.

The next day the Botany lecture halls were packed to capacity, not only by those legitimately registered for the class, but also by other students and faculty members who were attracted by what was now a genuine “happening”. Many students displayed signs and banners either for (Thallus go back to your palace!”) or against (“No malice for the Thallus!”) the visit of his majesty the Thallus of Marchantia.

A good time was had by all…and the plot thickened. A follow-up story was given to the newspaper. The Thallus would arrive in Buffalo on a flight from New York City at 1:48 p.m. It was rumored that radical students from the university were planning to protest his arrival.

A collection was taken up and a student, Arthur Schein, was sent to New York City. When he arrived at the Laguardia airport in New York, Arthur changed into a suit and tie, placed a keffiyeh, the traditional Arabian headdress, purchased a first class ticket and boarded the next plane back to Buffalo.

Meanwhile the city fathers of Buffalo were making their own preparations for the arrival of the visiting dignitary. The Thallus was to be met on the tarmac by none other then the mayor

Before noon on the day of the Thallus of Marchantia’s arrival to Buffalo, the airport began to fill with students waving signs and banners greeting or protesting the Thallus. It was estimated that between 700 and 2000 people were at the airport when the Thallus’ plane landed.

Students demonstrated for and against the Thallus

The Cheektowaga police department had a large contingent of officers on hand to prevent any embarrassing student protest demonstrations. In the performance of that duty they blocked the students from entering the airport. The crowd swelled…a bugler arrived…the bugler played “charge” and the students swarmed the airport. A large pane of glass was broken and furniture was knocked over, several students were apprehended by the police and put into custody.

The plane landed and the Thallus of Marchantia also known as Arthur Schein walked proudly down the gangway where the mayor’s official chauffeur driven limousine awaited him. Two policemen led Arthur to the limo where he sat down next to the mayor who had prepared a welcoming speech for the Arab ruler.

The crowd of protesters was approaching the field and the limo escorted by two police cars sirens wailing began to leave the airfield by a back exit. One of the students (Ken Casey) who was arrested was questioned by the police at he scene. He told all. The police radioed the mayor’s limousine informing him of the hoax. The procession halted. The policemen who were conducting the escort got out of their vehicles proceeded to the mayor’s limo and arrested the ersatz Thallus.

From the University of Buffalo’s Online Alumni Magazine:

“The next day, the hoodwinked News accused “1,000 State University of Buffalo students of wrecking furniture, jostling innocent bystanders and generally turning the Greater Buffalo International Airport into a frightening mob scene.” For all of The News’ indignation, however, none of the bystanders was reported injured and the damage was revised down to $600.

The so-called Thallus, whisked away in a Cheektowaga police car, was charged with disorderly conduct and fined $50. Richard Siggelkow, who was then dean of students, indefinitely suspended Schein, but not before posting his bail and putting him up for the night. Schein’s conviction by lower courts was later reversed, and the student body coughed up the $600.”

The following story is the continuation of the blog, “Coming To St. John: Another Perspective” the story of a New York City DJ, who gives up the fast paced city life and comes to St. John to get away from it all.

…So after about one month in the eco tent, I realized it was time to start looking for work and perhaps some somewhat more civilized digs.

I started looking around at the various restaurants and bars on the island and also thought about going back to deejaying.

At the time the island had only one working DJ, who was not a Reggae Dance Hall DJ, and who had this St. John island following.

I had heard a lot about him. The talk was that he was “amazing!” He was signing all these deals. He was going to play in the “states.”

I wanted to see this for my self so one night, I ventured forth from my eco tree house and made my way to his gig at one of the local bars in Cruz Bay.

He had two CD players, no mixer, and his speakers were for a home stereo. The bar had no sound system at all, and the extent of the lighting effects were a cloudy disco ball and some blinking Christmas lights hung around his booth. He hadn’t played one song yet and the bar was already set real low.

Ok give him a chance, I thought.

The DJ opened up his set with Tom Jones “She’s a Lady.”

The sound was terrible – no bass, no high ends. The music was completely flat and his attempts at increasing the volume resulted in further distortion. The result was unsettling. I thought to my self, OK, this isnt the guy, its just somebody who’s opening up for the guy.

But there was  no other equipment around – no truck outside. Then something even stranger happened – people actually started dancing – not just dancing but, whistling, clapping, hooting, hollering, chanting his name – the whole bit.

I thought to my self, have i wasted my time in New York spending my days tracking down rare, never heard before songs, dealing with record promoters, sound designers, lighting directors, stylists  and flaky go-go dancers, when at the end of the day if people are drunk enough and bored enough they will dance to anything? Could you just bang bang two pots together when it comes down to it? Was I a total music snob douche bag?

But in fact, the reality was this: one musical foux pas in Manhattan, and you could empty a bar or club in minutes, lose your job and never work again. You might even read about it in the paper the next day.

I noticed the people who were hanging in this particular bar were mostly locals – waiters and waitresses and cooks – white kids in their 20s like myself. They were kind of dressed shabbily, stained tank tops ripped shorts, flip flops all giant no-no’s in New York, and for the most part they were very very drunk.

The next songs  were more of the same nonsense.. i think he played “Celebration” by Kool and the Gang maybe “Disco Inferno”. Every CD skipped from the dancing – because his booth had no shock absorption or his CDs were scratched or both. This to the point of him having to end in mid song.

About an hour later, he took a break and the bar switched over to the juke box, and it too played Tom Jones.

The crowd was doing shots and from the look at the bathroom line, cocaine as well. After  a while, I fought my way through the small gang of rather beat up looking girls who had come to worship him and we got to talking, which he didnt seem so happy about.

I told him i was a looking for job maybe deejaying or something along those lines. He gave me that “everybody wants to be a DJ, dude” look and told me that deejaying was very demanding work, and that if you’re not good, the people will eat you alive, blah blah blah.

I kept my mouth shut and thought, “do I ever act like this?”

But there wasn’t really too much I could say, because, lackluster performance or not, he had the crowd on their feet and drinking. He was obviously doing something right. (When I sipped my  screw driver and realized it was a glass of vodka with a table spoon of orange juice, I thought that maybe this has something to do with it.)

Sometime later, it was time for the guy’s next set, and wouldn’t you know it, he opened up with “Shes a Lady” by Tom Jones again. And the people danced – again – and they hooted even louder than before. (We are all mad here, Alice!)

It  was time for me to go. I stumbled back to the tree house – Tom Jones firmly stuck in my head for three days, complete with skips and scratches, and if nobody was looking, I did a little dance.

The world today seems full of  tension. People of different religion, skin colors, ethnic backgrounds, nationalities, and even ideas and philosophies just can’t seem to get along. Violence in the Middle East has begun to spill over to Europe and so it goes.

Although people don’t get along perfectly here either, I’d venture to guess that it’s a lot better on St. John than in 99% of the places where people live together on the planet, offering some sort of evidence that the toleration of differences among human beings is at least possible.

For example, here on St. John, we have Palestinians and Israelis living side by side in peace, utilizing one another’s businesses and services. Blacks and white also seem to get along reasonably well as do those of all the various religious persuasions, ethnic groups and various nationalities who have made St. John their home.

In fact, the Virgin Islands has a history of religious tolerance as well as a history of a certain degree of racial acceptance.

In order to attract settlers to what was then called the Danish West Indies, religious freedom was granted to newcomers to the islands. Over the years there have been Jewish, mixed race and black governors. Citizens of mixed race and freed slaves have been allowed to advance socially, economically and politically, and the Danish West Indies was one of the first Caribbean Islands to mandate compulsory education for all children, both free and enslaved.

A Short History of Religious Tolerance in the Virgin Islands
Excerpted from the book St. Thomas USVI

European style religion arrived on St. Thomas with the first settlers. In 1666, the Lutheran Pastor, Kjeld Jensen Slagelse, who had run afoul of church authorities in Denmark, left with the first expedition to St. Thomas. He ministered to a congregation of some 100 parishioners approximately half of which were Danish Lutherans. He also served as governor of the settlement when the original governor died.

This first expedition ended in failure due to high mortality from disease, hunger and raids by buccaneers who stole a ship and much of the settlers supplies and  Pastor Slagelse along with other survivors sailed back to Denmark.

Pastor Slagelse joined the next expedition to St. Thomas in 1671, but died aboard the ship before reaching the island. He was succeeded by another minister who also died shortly after taking over the position. The third minister had to be sent back to Denmark for drunkenness. (The matter was turned over to the Danish courts where the minister argued that his drunken states were the result of the poor quality of rum, a white, unrefined, high alcohol content concoction known a “kill devil,” produced on the island.)

In fact the life expectancy of Lutheran ministers, as well as for many of the other colonists, was quite short. During the first 100 years that the Lutheran Church conducted services on St. Thomas, there were 31 different ministers.

The settlers, who well aware of the necessity to protect themselves from pirate attacks, quickly began construction of a fort. Church services were held in the courtyard of the fort and all colonists were required to attend services regardless of religious affiliation.

This condition of religious intolerance was short lived on St. Thomas. Early explorers and settlers sent back tales of extreme hardship and rampant disease, and the Danes, who were generally comfortable at home, showed little interest in settling the new territories. Even an attempt to bring prisoners, promising freedom after six years labor, was met with riots, mutinies and other forms of resistance. As a result, the Danish government and its representative in the colonies, the Danish West India Company, resorted to inviting foreigners to settle the islands.

One of these incentives used to lure foreigners to St. Thomas was the prospect of freedom of religion.

The majority of these foreign settlers were Dutch. The African slaves working on the plantations were taught to speak a Dutch Creole, called Creolsk, and this became the common language of St. Thomas and St. John.

Cooperation and religious tolerance began early with the Dutch being able to use the Lutheran Church inside the fort to conduct services until they were able to build their own church. The Lutherans held services in the mornings and the Dutch in the afternoons. (In 1806-1812 the Dutch Reformed Church was permitted to hold services on alternate Sunday’s and again between 1827 and 1846 during the construction of the Reformed Church.)

By 1675 the Dutch and French Reformed Churches had built churches just to the east of the fort. In 1685, Jews and  Catholics were granted freedom of religion and in the early 1700s Anglican Church was set up to serve English settlers. And in 1736, the Moravian Church established a slave mission on the island.

The Beginning of the Fishermen’s War
A Practice Amphibious Landing on Bahía de la Chiva That Never Happened?
From a conversation with Carlos (Taso) Zenón

Excerpted from “Vieques, A Photographically Illustrated Guide to the Island, Its History and Its Culture”
The Vieques Fishermen’s Association
In 1975, the fishermen of Vieques formed the Vieques Fishermen’s Association. The group was not created to oppose the presence of the US Navy in Vieques, but rather to address more immediate problems such as the lack of a dock and a proper location to clean, process and sell fish.

Navy Boats and Viequense Fish Traps
Most fishermen in Vieques used fish traps as a mainstay of their art. These fish traps, locally called nasas, were in those day made of chicken wire and reinforced with saltwater-resistant wooden sticks cut from local trees. They are generally set in 60 to 150 feet of water and are attached to a line, which leads to a floating buoy about one foot in diameter and are hauled by hand about once every two days.

A major problem for the Viequense fishermen was that the large naval ships using Vieques for target practice and mock battles were running over the fish trap buoys and cutting the lines leading to the traps. When this happens, the traps, which represent a good deal of time and money to the fishermen, are lost forever.

One night in 1977, 131 fish trap buoys were cut.

The Lawsuit
It was at this juncture that the Vieques Fishermen’s Association entered the political arena. The Association brought a lawsuit against the United States Navy for the loss of these traps.

Hoping to squash the case before it went to trial, the Navy asked for, and was granted, a change of venue, so that the trial would be heard in Virginia instead of Puerto Rico. This was a severe problem for the fishermen, who lived simply did not have money for such luxuries as airlines and travel expenses.

Nonetheless, the fishermen were able to get together the airfare and sent a delegation including the president of the Association, Carlos (Taso) Zenón. They found lodging in the cheapest of motels, ate as economically as possible, and to the surprise of Navy attorneys, appeared at court.

At the hearing, the judge was sympathetic to the fishermen. He admonished the Navy lawyers for their tactic of forcing the poor fishermen who he knew had little money and who spoke Spanish to travel to the mainland United States to appear in court. The judge found for the fishermen and the Navy had to reimburse them for the lost fish traps.

The Fishermen Extend Their Fight
The fishermen were emboldened. It was their first real victory against the Navy. In February of 1978, the Navy announced that 20 member nations of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) would be conducting maneuvers in and around Vieques for 28 days and that during that time no fishing boats would be allowed to leave port.

In response, Taso and a delegation of fishermen traveled to the Roosevelt Roads Naval Base on the Big Island and met with the Admiral in charge, William Flanagan. During the meeting it was explained that a 28-day moratorium on fishing would deal a devastating blow to the fishermen. They had no other means of support and they would not be able to provide for the needs of their families.

Get Food Stamps
The Admiral’s response was that the fishermen should apply for food stamps. Taso looked the Admiral in the eye and said, “You don’t know my people. You are going to have problems.”

The delegation returned to Vieques and called an emergency meeting of the Fishermen’s Association. Taso told the assembly that Admiral Flanagan suggested that they could all line up for food stamps at the welfare office. The expression on the faces of the fishermen clearly expressed how they felt about giving up fishing and collecting welfare instead.

“We are going to fight, replied Taso”

The Battle
One of the fishermen asked exactly how they could fight against the battleships, helicopters and planes of the NATO forces. Nonetheless, the fishermen came up with a plan.

The Navy announced to the press that the NATO exercises would begin with an amphibious landing at Bahía de la Chiva where 2,500 fully armed Marines would be brought ashore in less than 45 minutes.

The fishermen made their own announcement. They told the media that the Vieques Fishermen’s Association was not going to allow even one Marine to land on Bahía de la Chiva that day.

The newspaper and media people were intrigued. They sent reporters and photographers from major newspapers and television and radio syndications to be on hand to document the confrontation.

On the morning of the planned amphibious assault, 18 fishing boats left Esperanza en route to Bahía de la Chiva. Each boat had two men aboard. In addition, two larger boats carrying the reporters and photographers from the news media joined the flotilla.

Photo by Ramon Korff

The two opposing forces met just offshore from the idyllic tropical beach known to the Viequenses as Bahía de la Chiva and to the Navy as Blue Beach. On one side were the giant warships of the NATO superpowers, and on the other, the small open wooden fishing boats of the Viequense fishermen.

The Strategy
The image of the Navy boats running over the fish trap buoys and cutting the lines with their propellers may have inspired the fishermen’s strategy, because each of their boats carried aboard a fish trap buoy attached to a line, except that this time the line did not have a fish trap at the other end. It had a length of heavy iron chain. At a signal from the commanding officer, the Marines climbed down rope ladders onto amphibious landing craft which, one by one proceeded at full throttle toward the beach.

A Viequense fishing boat sped toward the first approaching amphibious landing craft as if it was going to crash into the large vessel head on. At the last minute, the Viequense captain deftly maneuvered his little boat so that it veered off passing just to one side of the bow of Navy boat.

The other fisherman aboard then threw the fish trap buoy into the water. Then the captain turned the little boat around in a tight circle and sped in front of the oncoming landing craft. Meanwhile, the other fisherman let out the line until he was left holding only the chain. At this point, the captain stopped the boat and the two fishermen waited. When the line handler on the little boat felt the tug of the line getting caught in the assault craft’s propeller, (something like the feel of a big fish hitting a hook, I suppose) he let go of the chain. Then the inevitable happened. The line wrapped around the propeller shaft until the heavy chain was sucked into the propeller.

Bang! The first assault craft was put out of action.

The second landing craft met the same fate and then the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth and tenth. They were all stopped dead in their tracks.
Meanwhile, the Admiral, forced to accept the superior military strategy of the Viequense fishermen, called a halt to the exercise and just as Taso had declared to the press, not one Marine had landed on Bahía de la Chiva that morning.

Photo by Ramon Korff (This photo is not in the book)

On the island of Vieques, our neighbor to the west, there is a pier that extends one mile out into the sea. Following is the story behind this massive construction project.

Rompeolas

Excerpted from “Vieques, A Photographically Illustrated Guide to the Island, Its History and Its Culture

Building the Great Seawall
In the late 1930s, the threat of war in Europe loomed over the United States of America. Military interests focused on Puerto Rico as a mainstay in the defense of the Caribbean and especially of the Panama Canal.

The plan was to construct a seawall that would extend from Vieques to the Roosevelt Roads Naval Base in Ceiba on the Big Island and to create a naval facility in the Atlantic surpassing even the Pearl Harbor Naval Base in Hawaii.

The base was to be fully equipped and large enough to contain most of the US Atlantic Fleet as well as the entire British Fleet, if and when Great Britain fell to the Germans.

When the Navy arrived to begin this massive project, Vieques was in serious trouble economically. The decline of the sugar industry in conjunction with food shortages caused by the war created a condition of massive poverty and rampant unemployment. Thus, despite the social, economic and emotional devastation of the expropriation and the forced relocation of the people living on these lands, the promise of employment on the Navy project left the Viequenses with some hope.

In fact, the Navy hired 1,700 Viequenses along with 1,000 laborers from the Big Island to build the giant sea wall and to construct concrete weapons storage warehouses called magazines, which were to be cut into the hills of western Vieques and camouflaged by a covering of grasslands.

The workers were paid $2.25 per day. Laborers, working three shifts a day, dug out a mountain and used the dirt and rocks to fill in the sea.

“They worked 24 hours a day. There was no rest. There were no objections to allowing this flow of North American money. This money, for the most part was collected by contractors from the United States and San Juan. Employees came every week from different sections of Puerto Rico.
But a good part of the profits remained in Vieques.

“For two years the town swam in gold. Rents went up three to four times that which was normally paid.

“People bought fine clothing and treated it without due consideration. Alcoholic beverages were consumed without measure.

“There were those who would wash their floors with beer and those who would buy a $35 dollar suit on Saturday and wear it on Monday to mix concrete and it would be ruined after two hours. ‘The Base is here, and it will bring more,’ they would say.” (Translated from Vieques Antiguo y Moderno by J. Pastor Ruiz)

The project was stopped in midstream due to two historical events. The German Army had become bogged down in Russia and the tide of the war appeared to have changed in favor of the Allies, while the attack on Pearl Harbor challenged the military wisdom of concentrating an entire fleet in one area.

In 1943, the construction of the pier, which was at that time about one mile long, was discontinued. The Viequenses were left worse off than ever. With the massive land expropriations, there was no more sugar industry at all and the ability of the people to at least continue subsistence activities such as having small gardens, raising animals, hunting crabs, fishing, charcoal making and the gathering of coconuts and wild fruits was severely curtailed.

“This boom of ready cash never compensated for many of the setbacks caused by the naval base. The richest and most fertile lands were expropriated by the Navy. The neighborhoods of Tapón, Mosquito and La Llave all disappeared. All the neighbors and small landowners left to the new neighborhoods of Moscú and Montesanto. Families that had their little house, cows, a horse and some farmland went on to have nothing more than a makeshift shack, a fistful of coins and the night and the day.

Vieques, A Photographically Illustrated Guide to the Island, Its History and Its Culture

“Those that had a garden plot and who lived happily as tenants surrounded by farmlands and fruit trees now live crowded together lacking even air with which to breathe.”
Translated from Vieques Antiguo y Moderno by J. Pastor Ruiz, 1947

In 2000, the Mosquito Pier was included in the 4,000 acre transfer of land from the US Navy to the Municipality of Vieques.

Looks like St. John is starting to see some fallout from the much-publicized economic crisis that’s playing havoc with people the world over.

It has just come to our attention that, for the first time in my memory, Caneel Bay will be closing down for the months of September and October as a cost cutting measure. Employees will be earning a little less and management will be seeing less perks. I also heard that there won’t be anymore Sunday Brunch. Even the rich and famous are watching their wallets

Now September and October are the slow months, so it kind of makes sense, and perhaps the hotel can use that time to take care of general maintenance without disturbing guests.

But September and October, the now feared hurricane months weren’t always that slow. Remember that from the 1920s until Hurricane Hugo in 1989, the Virgin Islands hadn’t suffered a major hurricane. Hurricanes weren’t in people’s minds. For example, Foxy’s well attended Wooden Boat Race was held on Labor Day, the height of the Atlantic Hurricane Season.

Although September and October weren’t great, they weren’t that bad either. Even after Hugo, the season wasn’t effected that much, but after Marilyn in 1995, this changed and Hurricane paranoia made September and October super slow months. Now with the stock market sliding and credit drying up, we can probably expect some super-duper slow summers.

Maybe there’s an upside to this slow down. The red hot real estate market, the building frenzy, and the invasion of the EDC gang really took a toll on the traditional St. John lifestyle. The perception of St. John as a laid back  easy going island was replaced by one of a Beverly Hills of the Caribbean, millionaire island, and not without reason.

So, if we can survive the financial blows, maybe we can slow down a little, get to the beach more often, walk through town slowly for a change, and shoot the breeze a little longer with our friends and neighbors. We’ll see how it all plays out. Hopefully, in the words of the late Bob Marley, “every little t’ing gonna be alright,”