the following comes from some notes that I dug up last night:

Jost Van Dyke, British Virgin Islands Notes
In 1980 there was only one vehicle on Jost Van Dyke, a Jeep. There were no paved roads, no electricity, save for a few solar panels and generators, no phone except a radio phone at customs. The ferry, The blue Atlantic, was a hand-made wooden craft capable of handling about 10 people, tops.

Electricity came to Jost Van Dyke in 1990.

My First Automobile Ride In Jost Van Dyke
Saturday, April 15, 1995

It was a beautiful evening. The moon was full, the seas were calm and the sky was clear.

We left Chocolate Hole, on St John just after sunset. The moon rose over the mountains in back of Cruz Bay as we rounded Lind Point on our way to Abe’s in Little Harbour, on Jost Van Dyke in the British Virgin Islands.

Abe's

Abe’s was fairly busy. Bareboaters from Germany, a woman with high heel sneakers and short shorts, a couple from Tortola with a 40 foot Hattaras and some others. Steve, Abe’s son, was tending bar.

We had a big dinner. Lobster, conch, rice and peas, corn and cole slaw.

During dinner I saw a Suzuki Jeep leave from in front of Abe’s house. It got my attention because I never had seen a vehicle on this beach before.

Later, just as we were finishing dinner, the vehicle returned. I saw the driver for the first time. It was Steve. I asked him where he got the jeep, and was it his and where he was going.

It turned out that Kendrick, one of my old friend’s Etien Chinnery’s sons, was now in the business of renting vehicles. Kendrick, who was a former customs officer and bar tender at the Sand Castle in White Harbour had also began Jost Van Dyke’s first ferry business. He had one jeep for rent, this automatic transmission Suzuki Jeep for rent for $35.00 a day. Steve had rented it for three days.

I asked Steve if he’d take us for a ride and being the nice guy that he is, he consented. We went over the mountain to Great Harbour, around the bottom in back of the beach at Great Harbour, passed Rudy’s and then along the waterfront and back to Foxy’s where there was music and dancing.

Foxy had left for the evening and Tessa was closing up the store. Ivan was playing guitar with a local trio. The bar was fairly crowded and everyone was in good spirits. I saw some of the regulars there,  Godwin and Nippy and Melvin were dancing with the tourists. My friends, Etien Chinnery and Junie, Abe’s brother from Little Harbour, were over by the band watching the scene.

We were in for a treat, another first for me. Dean, one of Foxy’s sons, was going to do his famous fire dance. It was a great show. Dean was in costume and made up like an African warrior. The sound of drums from the drum machine. He danced with his fire sticks and blew fire out of his mouth like a fire breathing dragon. Then he broke up some liquor bottles in a cardboard box and placed the broken shards on the floor. He danced on the glass and then  he danced holding up the biggest man in the house, a 250 pound Brit, in his arms. Dean was quite the showman and I was duly impressed.

After the Dean Spectacular we got back in our rent-a-car and drove back to Abe’s for the moonlight trip back home to St. John.

Thanks Steve. Thanks Dean. Thanks to all my very special Virgin Islands friends!

GS 4/15/95

photo taken from the summit of Great Thatch's highest mountaintop

A team consisting of two St. Johnians succeeded in scaling the steep mountaintop on the island of great Thatch in the British Virgin Islands bringing back some absolutely awesome photos taken from their perch atop the summit, a feat not likely to be duplicated anytime soon.

photo of Great Thatch taken from the Narrows	Approach to Great Thatch	Mountain seen from the shore
Hilltop as seen from the ruins	close up view of the south coast from the summit	view of the south coast from the summit

Ruin on Great Thatch, British Virgin Islands

Great Thatch

Great Thatch Island lies just to the north of St. John.  The approximately half-mile passage between Great Thatch and the St. John coast from the rocky cliffs of Mary Point and the steep tyre palm covered hillsides between there and Leinster Bay form “the Narrows,” characterized by gusty winds and strong tidal currents.

I’ve snorkeled there and once camped out on the beach, but I always thought of the interior of the island to be impenetrable bush on cliff-like hillsides, maybe suitable for goats, but not people. I was wrong.

Guided by a good friend and knowledgeable Virgin Islander, I took the opportunity to explore for the first time, the island’s interior.

We began our adventure at the site of an unfinished building on the far eastern corner of the long beach on the southern coast. Rumor has it that this was to be a built as a restaurant. Work started about 1997, but was plagued by misfortune. Supposedly a dump truck full of gravel arriving by barge got stuck in the sand and remained stuck for quite some time. It was eventually removed, but I never heard how. The same sand that the truck got stuck in, made the site look like a desirable beach location, but that was an anomaly, the natural state of that section of beach is gravel, to which it returned and is to this day. So much for rumor.

stone retaining wall on lower side of road

We headed straight up the hill in back of the building through a forest of mostly genip trees growing very close together. The vegetation was thick, but passable and we soon came to an old road bed running gradually up along the hillside. We followed the road until my friend inexplicably decided that we should leave the road and continue straight up again towards the ridge, which we did, and which led us to the first of a series of ruins.

Great Thatch, British Virgin Islands

outbuilding above the road	cook house	animal corral
cistern	cookhouse doorway	view from ruin

Smuggling and Great Thatch
I came across this little tidbit of historical information, which gives, among other things, a little picture of life on this island that I always thought to be either uninhabited or at least sparsely so.

“On being informed on November 24 (1856) that a boat belonging to an inhabitant of (Great) Thatch Island was trading without a license, the sub-treasurer of Tortola proceeded to seize it. He soon had to abandon the seizure, however, when he was assaulted and the crew of his boat badly beaten. Two days later, a force consisting of four constables was dispatched by the stipendiary magistrate to arrest the offenders. On landing they were obstructed by 40 or 50 people, and when the persevered and made their arrest were also severely beaten. On the following day, a larger force comprising 30 men, principally rural constables, 12 of whom were armed, was dispatched to quell the spirit of insubordination and to apprehend the offenders. Despite this show of force, it was only the assistance of the Wesleyan missionaries who were influential among the inhabitants, which enabled 16 arrests to be made without active opposition.” From “A History of the British Virgin islands” by Issac Dookhan

Great Thatch’s connection with smuggling may not be confined to the nineteenth century as rumors abound about bales of illicit drugs being found washed up on the shoreline there.

The name of the island itself suggests something nefarious. It is said that Thatch is a corruption of the name Teach and that the islands given the Thatch name, Thatch Cay in the US Virgins, and Great and Little Thatch in the British were named after the pirate Edward Teach, better known as Blackbeard.

Bottles
On our walk we encountered many old bottles as well as other artifacts. It seems that this might help to date how recently people were still living on the island. Many of the bottles it turns out were manufactured by the Portobello bottle company in Edinburgh, Scotland after 1907.

One More T’ing
All during our walk we could hear the bleating of a goat, but we could never see him. Just as I was leaving a spotted him…

Cane Garden Bay, Tortola, British Virgin Islands

But women and water are in short supply
There’s not enough dope for us all to get high
I hear it gets better, that’s what they say
As soon as we sail on to Cane Garden Bay
From Mañana by Jimmy Buffet

Callwood Rum Distillery, Cane Garden Bay, Tortola, British Virgin Islands

Getting there is half the fun
The weekend get-off-the-rock excursion brought our little gang, Max, Michelle, Ezius and I to Cane Garden Bay on the island of Tortola in the British Virgin Islands. We left Great Cruz Bay in what’s been dubbed by my brother, Mario, “The Volvo,” a 15-foot Carib hard bottom inflatable powered by that trusty product of Japanese technology, a 60 horsepower Yamaha four stroke. I love this boat!

Being out at sea in the Virgin Islands never gets old for me. I’m getting kind of tired of all those adjectives to describe our islands, so let me just say that its unbelievably beautiful.

Leaving Great Cruz Bay we head north past the barge landing and Frank Bay and Gallows Point and out little town of Cruz Bay. Rounding Lind Point we run along St. John’s north shore passing beach after beach of the best beaches in the whole world, Salomon, Caneel, Hawksnest, Trunk, Cinnamon, Maho while on our left dozens of cays and rocks enhance the amazing seascape backdropped by the big island of St. Thomas in the west. Next we pass through the Fungi Passage separating Whistling Cay and Mary Point, the rocky cliff side on St. John where it is rumored that the last holdout of rebellious slaves from the 1733 St. John Slave Rebellion committed suicide rather than surrender.

National Park Service Ranger, Denise George. once told me that Fungi Passage got it’s name because like traditional Virgin Islands Fungi, (a dish made with cornmeal and okra and often served with fish as in “fish ‘n’ fungi”) It’s smooth! Maybe she made up that story, but it’s a good one and the passage is invariably calm.

Next we run up the Narrows with the dramatic cliffs and steep hillsides with their stands of tall elegant tyre palms on the St. John side and the island of Great Thatch, named after Edward Teach, or better known as Blackbeard, on the other.  And then we cross the channel to Tortola, passing Belmont Bay, also known as Smugglers Cove, then we continue on Tortola’s north coast passing Long Bay and the surfing Meccas of Apple and Carrot Bays and on to out destination fro the day, Cane Garden Bay.

Cane Garden Bay
I remember sailing into Cane Garden Bay some thirty years ago for the first time. The long stretch of white coral sand beach, protected practically it’s whole length by a reef lying about 50 yards offshore was practically deserted. Two commercial establishments offered amenities to locals, tourists and visiting yachtsmen (or to be politically correct should I say yatchtspersons or perhaps yachts men-and-women?) Towards the center of the bay was Stanley’s Welcome Bar with the iconic tire swing hanging from a palm tree and serving fresh Caribbean lobster nightly and on some nights offering music and dancing. Rhymers on the east also had a restaurant, plus there were showers a general store, and rooms available for rent.

Over the years the beach became more and more developed, but notwithstanding it by and large kept its Virgin Islands’ flavor and ambiance. I always thought that the development there was a good thing. A place where you had the opportunity to experience something more than just the normal beach stuff like swimming, sunning and snorkeling. at Cane Garden Bay you could also find real native restaurants, water sports rentals and live music even  big concerts with well known artists every once and a while.

We on St. Thomas and St. John didn’t have anything like it. Development of the beaches on St. Thomas was quite another matter. Big condominium projects and hotels bought up the beach fronts, which became their exclusive property. On St. John, the best beaches had become the property of the Virgin Islands National Park with only carefully controlled park concessions on Trunk and Cinnamon Bays, protected but lacking any semblance of Virgin islands native culture. So the moderately developed beaches on Tortola offered a pleasant change and positive addition to the beach experience.

Now, however, a new dynamic has come to play on Cane Garden Bay, as well as some other popular beaches, namely White Bay on Jost Van Dyke and the Baths on Virgin Gorda. We’re talking cruise ships!

On this visit to Cane Garden Bay, when I saw the line of beach lounges three rows deep from one end of the beach to the other, I guess, for me, the development I had once appreciated had become a bit too much.

Talking to some locals, I was given to understand that there is a certain appreciation for the cruise industry as far as the boost it gives to the BVI economy.

On the other hand, many locals worry about the stress cruise ships have on the infrastructure, the environment, the culture and the people of the British Virgin Islands.

Meanwhile for those of us who care, there is no shortage of undeveloped beaches, forests and mountainsides to enjoy not only on Tortola, but also throughout both the British and American Virgin Islands.

What a cool place to call home!!!

G

The Willy-T, the Bight, Norman Island, British Virgin Islands

The William Thornton, more affectionately known as the “Willy T” was originally a wooden 1935 Baltic Schooner. In 1985 the vessel was hauled out to the Bight at Norman Island and operated as a restaurant and bar, frequented by the many bareboaters who would anchor at the bay.

The old Willy T sunk in 1995. It was raised and hauled out to sea to be used a s a BVI dive site, but unfortunately the Willy T broke apart and was scattered about the sea bottom. The new Willy T is a steel replica of the original and is more popular than ever. Lits of drinking and girls jumping off the poop deck topless and body shots and music and dirty dancing and fun for all, not to mention the food that is really good.

The name William Thornton comes from a guy who was born on Jost Van Dyke and designed the United States Capitol Building.

SS William Thornton

Al "Boopy" Smith on "X-Rated"	X-Rated	Mario "Chin" Jackson & Boopy at the Willy-T
Boats rafted up at the Willy T	Boopy, Mario and unidentified Jumper	Dancers at the Willy T
outboard engines	Mario "Willy Chin" Jackson

It’s been a great week spent with good friends visiting from America. On Monday we left St. John in the rain – because my friend Allan “didn’t want to waste a day” – and jumped in my trusty Carib inflatable and off we went into the squally seas headed for Jost Van Dyke.

Michael and Foxy and his famous photo op pose

Foxy
We arrived fairly dry and making good time, cleared customs and walked up the stand to Foxy’s, who came down to the bar shortly after we got there.

There’s always something new and exciting with Foxy and this time was no different. Besides being a culture hero of the sailing world, Foxy has devoted much time, money and energy to Jost Van Dyke Preservation Society, dedicated to keeping alive the island’s unique culture.

The latest project has been the building of a traditional island sloop, an educational and cultural project funded by private interests, including a $50,000 donation from country singer, Kenny Chesney.

Over the years Foxy has received numerous awards and honors. A BVI postage stamp features “Foxy’s Wooden Boat Race.” He has been made an honorary “Kentucky Colonel” and now Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II has appointed Foxy to be a “Member of the Order of the British Empire (MBE) in appreciation of his contributions to the culture and economy of the British Virgin Islands.

Sometime soon, Foxy and Tessa will fly to London and will personally receive the commendation which will be presented at Buckingham Palace by the Queen herself.

sometime in the less crowded past

Last Monday

Bubbly Pool
After seeing Foxy, it was off to Abe’s in Little Harbour for a lunch of stewed conch, snorkeling at Little Green Cay and at about 4:00 we tied up to the dock at Foxy’s Taboo and walked over to the Bubbly Pool.

The Bubbly Pool that day was a bit of a dissapointment. Not only did the wave action leave a lot to be desired, but the sad truth is that the Bubbly Pool is no longer a little known secret. As we walked towards the pool, we passed by dozens of people coming from there. Upon arrival, there were still quite a few more and it wasn’t even a good day. Oh well, as the philosopher, Foxy Callwood, so often says, “such is life.”

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)

Cairns, stones that have been stacked up or piled together, are found the world over. They have been used for a multitude of purposes such as to mark burial sites, mountain tops and paths, but more often they are simply expressions of the human spirit, an art form from nature herself.

I first became aware of cairns, when early one Saturday morning I was walking around the shoreline of Greenwich Point in Connecticut with my two children. It was a beautiful summer weekend and the area, Greenwich Point Park, was already filling with beach goers, only a few of which, though, were to be found on the outer reaches of the point a bit far from the sand beach and the developed areas.

There scrambling over the rugged, rocky shoreline we came across a stacked up a pile of stones, balanced on a boulder overlooking the Long Island Sound. There was a quiet majesty about it and shortly thereafter and without a word passing between us, we began making our own cairns, although we had no idea at the time that the process had a name.

Returning the next day, to see if our stone sculptures had withstood the forces of nature, we were surprised to see that this lonely shoreline was no full of dozens of cairns, some quite tall and some simple and some intricate.

Stone Sculpture on Drunk Bay

Drunk Bay Stone Sculpture

Cairns on St. John
On a visit to Drunk Bay with Habiba and our friend Margarita, we came across more cairns. They were all over the rocky beach.

Balanced Rocks by Phillip A Long
A man named Phillip A Long, who has elevated the construction of cairns to a high art form as well as a business, has honored St. John by choosing our little island in the Caribbean as one of the venues for his art. His work can be seen on his website vineyardrocks.com

These examples of his work once proudly stood on Frank Bay. Other examples of his balanced rock sculptures on St. John, now returned to their natural settings, but captured as digital images, were constructed on Denis Bay and Caneel Hawksnest Bays.

Test your skill at identifying St. John beaches; go to Mr. Longs website and see if you can identify the beaches where the cairns were built.

Balanced Rock Cairn on Frank Bay, by Phillip A Long

Balanced Rock Cairn on Frank Bay by Phillip A Long