Welcome back!

Curtney Chinnery aka The Ghost From Jost recites his poem, “Your Counterpart”

Christmas Day 2009 – Chin, Boopy, Michelle, Zi and G take off to Jost Van Dyke somewhat crowded into the 15-foot inflatable. Although the morning started off with heavy rains, flash flood warnings and a rain probability of 90%, the seas are calm. We make a straight shot to Jost, leaving two heavy squalls one on the port the other on the starboard. We arrive fairly dry.

Jost Van Dyke, BVI: Bubbly Pool Christmas Day 2009

Michelle, Ezius and I at the bakery on the way to the Bubble Pool offering free ham for Christmas	Clouds lie on top of Sage Mountain, the hight peak in the Virgin Islands, almost qualifying it as a rain forest	Mario, Boopy, Michelle and Ezius watch as a giant wave breaks over the rocks at the entrance to the Bubbly Pool
the broken wave enters the pool	the pool settles, the crew awaits the next swell	Dinner at Abe's by the Sea, Little Harbor, Jost Van Dyke BVI

The photo below came from the book “The Virgin Islands, Pleasure Spots in the Caribbean,” by Bruce G. Lynn. It was published in 1970. The photo below is mine taken a few days ago.

It started with a book sent to me by Joe Jackson, “Virgin Islands, Pleasure Spots in the Caribbean” by Bruce Lynn published in 1970. On Tuesday, with book in hand, my friends and I left St. John and motored over to Jost Van Dyke with the mission of trying to set up photos that matched the ones of Jost Van Dyke in the book.

View of Great Harbor seen from the road running up the hillside towards White Bay.

Looking toward the Methodist Church from the road that runs along the Great Harbour coastline

The Customs House in Great Harbour

Government Dock, Great Harbour, Jost Van Dyke

White Bay, Jost Van Dyke, BVI
Yesterday I headed over to Jost Van Dyke, carrying with me two old friends, whom I haven’t seen in many years, and a copy of an book given to me by Joe Jackson, a book of photos of the Virgin Islands published in 1970, several of which were taken in Jost Van Dyke.

The mission of the day, besides just having a good time and enjoying a lobster dinner over at Abe’s in Little harbor, was to try to take photographs from  same positions as the 1970 photographer and present them side by side. Images changed only by some 38 years of time. (I was fairly successful and am working on a blog presentation of these photos – soon come)

The trip turned nostalgic as I presented the book to the Jost Van Dyke natives and residents all of whom were fascinated with the old studies of Jost Van Dyke. My friend, Steve Coakley, took us in his taxi to some of the spots that I need to access.

We drove up the road to the west of Great Harbour for one of the locations, and Steve decided to continue over the ridge and down into White Bay to check out Ivan at the campground. Heading down into the valley I shot the above photo of White Bay, which brought back memories of my first visit to that bay back in the same year that our book was published, 1970.

White Bay Nostalgia
My girlfriend at the time and I were over at Foxy’s when we first heard about the beautiful beach just over the hill to the west. We headed up the rugged jeep trail on the western side of Great Harbour, in the bright morning sunshine. At the top of the hill, a narrow shaded footpath led down through thick bush into the next bay. At the bottom of the trail there was a small opening through a thicket of sea grape trees. We stepped through and were greated by one of the most magnificent sights I have ever experienced. This long pristine white sand beach, backed by coconut palms and sea grapes was totally untouched. Not a soul or a house could be seen anywhere. The waters within the bay were crystal clear, with the characteristic mix of blues found in our shallow indented bays. Not far offshore were the reddish tints created by the coral reef that protected the bay from the open sea.

The beach extended to a rocky outcropping around which was another stretch of coral sand beach. We had passed through a portal into a tropical paradise more beautiful and romantic than even the imagination could conjur up.

I told Steve this story and he told me that he, although born and bred on Jost van Dyke, had the same feeling of awe when he first encountered that beach lying beyond the opening in the sea grape trees.

White Bay Today
Today, White Bay, is not quite the same. It’s still beautiful, but fairly well developed. Whereas a sailing publication advised mariners that there was swinging room behind the reef within the two bays for two or three vessels and if you encountered that many you were advised to head back to Great Harbor and anchor there, today that concept is a joke. In addition to the many, many more than three vessels one can find at any given time at anchor in the bay, mini cruise ships such as the five masted Club Med often anchor just outside the reef ferrying passengers back and forth to the shore. There are now bars and restaurants, campgrounds and guest houses and villas. In general it’s a bustling party atmosphere, still cool, just very different.

Some years ago I sporadically worked as a boat captain for Delbert Parsons when he owned Ocean Runner. On one occasion I served as captain for a family of five, mom, dad and their three children. a boy age 13 and two girls ages 9 and 11.

We checked in at Jost Van Dyke and from there went to Norman Island to snorkel the caves.

I stayed aboard while the others snorkeled.

The family must have loved the snorkeling because they were gone quite some time. When they returned, they told me that coincidentally both of the girls had lost a baby tooth on the snorkel.

When they got aboard I asked the girls what happened to the teeth.

The father answered for them saying that the teeth had been committed to the sea.

“Don’t you believe in the tooth fairy?” I asked the girls. Again the father answered for his girls, Not in this family, we don’t,” he said.

A few weeks later I received a letter from the dad. It seems that the older of the two girls had written a story for school concerning lost baby teeth and belief in the tooth fairy, which he wanted to share with me.

The little girl’s story…

Once there were two ten-year-old girls who lived in the same town. One night both girls lost a baby tooth.

One of the girls had nice parents that believed in the tooth fairy. She put her tooth under her pillow that night and when she awoke the tooth was gone but there was a quarter in its place.

The other little girl had cheap, mean, stingy parents who didn’t believe in the tooth fairy. They told the little girl to throw the worthless tooth in the garbage.

The next day both little girls went with the other school children to an outing at the zoo. The two of them, being friends, stayed together. They were fascinated by all the animals and they strayed off to the farthest part of the zoo. They didn’t pay attention to the time and the rest of the class left without them.

The two girls walked together to the zoo entrance and waited for the bus that was going back to their neighborhood.

The one little girl, who had the quarter from the tooth fairy was able to board the bus and go home, but the other little girl didn’t have a quarter because her parents were mean and stingy and cheap and she couldn’t get on the bus. To make matters worse it began to rain… hard!

The little girl had to walk all the way home in the pouring rain, and she got pneumonia and died and her cheap parents were to blame.

The First Time I Saw A White Person
By Curtney “Ghost” Chinnery
From Tales of St. John & the Caribbean

When it comes to tourists, I as a child saw very few. Reason being is because in those days, which were the 50s and 60s, not many yachtsmen would venture across to Jost Van Dyke. I for one used to call white folk “Book People,” for that’s the only place I used to see them, in books or magazines.

I remember one day in Great Harbour, Jost Van Dyke, a little before where Foxy’s is today. It was the first time I came in physical contact with a white person. It happened one day while a white boy and girl were playing ball. I was asked to join in, this for me was a great privilege, and, happy as can be I played with them. From the paleness of their skin, and due to the fact that I could see the blue veins beneath their skin, the thought was placed in my mind that they were soft and fragile. This in turn created a sense of fear about touching or grabbing them too hard.

When the fellow’s sister hit the beach ball in the air, both him and I chased after it. He tripped and fell, causing me to fall directly on top of him. Fearing I might have hurt him I screamed with a feeling of fear mixed with sorrow. Immediately I rolled off him asking, “Are you okay?” In any case, seeing he wasn’t harmed I asked him with a little shyness, “Can I touch your hand?” He looked me in the eye and got serious. Then he answered without a smile, “Sure, but only if I can touch you next.”

The situation reminds me of a saying: Judging a book by its cover.

With my pointing finger I reached out at his arm. At first softly I poked his skin. He did the same, but to my chest. It seemed to me that he might have had thoughts of me being fragile, the same way I though of him. Something like me thinking he was soft as a jellyfish and his thoughts that I may be soft as chocolate pudding.

It was my first touching a being in the company of someone white. A twist of fate made it to be the same for that boy. It was exactly the same. The kid and I became friends that moment. When the yacht left Great Harbour, I watched with the hope that they would return someday. For almost two months, I would make my way to the bay in order to check if their vessel had returned.

That was my first dealing with the so-called white man.

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.

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.

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 Bubbly Pool is a small cove located on the north east of Jost Van Dyke. Because of its orientation to the north and west, it normally would be completely exposed to the large breaking waves, we call ground seas, generated from storms and low pressure systems that come from the North Atlantic in the winter. It would be exposed if it weren’t for a line of large rocks that block the entrance to the inner cove such that when a large waves comes rolling in, it steepens as the cove entrance narrows and then breaks over the line of tall rocks. The full power of the wave is broken and a rush of bubbling white water from the wave top enters the pool filling it with white, foaming, swirling jets of sea water, a natural Jacuzzi , so to speak.

I fondly remember the very first time that I went to the Bubbly Pool. I was operating a small boat charter business taking out small groups on “off the beaten track” boating adventures.  On this day I had a special group of clients I really wanted to impress, Tisha Campbell, Thomas Mikal Ford and Tichina Arnold costars of the then popular TV comedy series, “Martin.”

The day of the charter, was cloudy and cool and the ground sea was particularly strong, which wasn’t favorable for snorkeling or exploring remote beaches. I could see that my guests were not too happy about the weather and I decided that perhaps I could take them to Jost Van Dyke and spend some time with Ivan at his campground on White Bay, so off we went.

Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea after all, I thought, upon discovering that White Bay was just about deserted and the bay was all churned up and the skies were cloudy and threatening. Ivan was there, however, and he suggested a trip to the Bubbly Pool as the conditions for that experience were almost perfect. He gave me detailed instructions on how to get there and off we went.

Meanwhile my charterers were getting grumpy and even talking about calling it a day. There we were on the trail to the pool, which was overgrown with scratchy moran bush and I could see that my guests were getting more and more doubtful about the day and about me.

Then we got to the Bubbly Pool. It was wonderful! The waves were very big, but not so big as to be dangerous. This was a new experience for me as well as for them and we all got totally into the spirit of children at play.

The rest of the day went well also. We had a delicious lunch at Abe’s – Lobsters and conch, and then went to Great Harbor and hung out with Foxy.

Some weeks later I got a package in the mail from my new friends – a complete set of “home-boy” outfits from California along with a nice letter thanking me for what trned out to be their best day spent visiting the Virgin Islands.

In those days, the Bubbly Pool was really a secret as you would rarely, if ever find other people there, but now the Bubbly Pool is a British Virgin Islands  National Park and although touted as one of Natures Little Secrets, is not quite so secret anymore.

To get to the Bubbly Pool, go to Foxy’s Taboo at Diamond Cay on the East End of Jost Van Dyke. From there walk along the water’s edge until you reach the mangroves where the trail to the Bubbly Pool begins. It leads you through the mangroves and then up a small rock face to a field of maran bush.  If the pool is bubbling that day, that is if the ground sea is up, you will hear the roar of the waves entering the pool from the trail as you approach the pool.

Enjoy!

The above is a scan of a post card featuring Foxy’s Model Boat Race,” which came before the prime event, Foxy’s Wooden Boat Race,” a happening so popular and well known that it was featured on an official British Virgin Islands stamp

The young man with the beard is Ivan Chinnery, now proprietor of the Stress Free Bar and Local Flavour Campground on White Bay, Jost Van Dyke.

There’s nothing formal about Ivan’s establishment, but it’s oozing with charm and local flavor. Ivan, who I’m proud to call a close long-time friend, is one of the nicest guys, you’ll ever have the pleasure to meet. The bar and campground is frequented by in-the -know-sailors, natives, weekenders from St. John and campers from just about anywhere.

Ivan sings and plays the guitar and on many nights there are impromptu jam sessions, which every once and a while may include such celebrities as Kenny Chesney and Keith Richards.

Once upon a time I was planning on writing an Off the Beaten Track type book about Jost Van Dyke. For some reason or another the project never got off the ground – maybe some day – but going over my notes I discovered some interviews with Ivan dealing with his life and the backtime culture of the island.

For those of you who might be interested I now present this unedited collection of notes:

Interview with Ivan Chinnery 10/1/94

My name is Ivan Chinnery and I was born here March 27, 1943.

I have three brothers Joseph, Albert and Rudy. I have two sisters Evelyn and Ivy, Evelyn Sherman and Ivy Moses. My mother is Sarah Matilda Graham Chinnery. She farmed all her life.

This was the way of life for me that came to be around 1950. In those days the school population was 95 students. The Methodist Church in Great Harbour was used weekdays as a school. The highest grade was seven standard. There was no high school. That was it, you got a certificate, a graduation certificate, from seven standard and that was it.

Population of the island was around 600. There were two teachers. One of the teachers was my Godmother. She was from Batson Bay, above Sidney in Little Harbor. She liked to ring my ear, and she’d pinch you anywhere.

In those days our industries were farming and fishing.

Farming
Four or five men would get together and work one man’s cultivation. They would leave about 6:30 A.M. The wives would prepare the breakfast. Some of the wives who could bring it would bring it. Other than that the man who the work belonged to would go back to the house and bring the breakfast right on the job. And we would put in a good hardy days work. So when we finish cutting the pasture, the woods, we have what we call instant cultivation. And if you’re going to plant, when your turn come back again, then we would terrace. Then all the man would have to do is put his seeds, his seedlings, slips and all that in and instant garden going! That’s self help and cooperation that we had in those days. It was an extension of the way life used to be, because that is the way the people before us survived.

There were as many as eight hundred cows here. Princess Alexandrine Sewer owned over 100 head. Christian Callwood, Foxy’s father, owned about 100 head.

There was a trade in agriculture between the Islands. Agents from Tortola and Jost Van Dyke would buy pigs, cows, goats, potatoes, tomatoes, yams, pineapples, mangos, maubi bark, charcoal – you name it. They would load up their Tortola sloops and sail for St. Thomas, which had a booming economy in those days.

And we are talking about main culture men. Farmers, fisherman, Ezikiel Chinnery, Herman Chinnery, Christian Callwood, Ben Sewer and Abraham Millener, Princess Alexandrine Sewer’s husband.

Fishing
In those days there was no rope. whist, guard whist like that which grows in St. John. You would collect them for days on the dark moon. Twist three till you get to the end of one strand and then tie a knot. Then tie another and keep weaving till you have maybe 35 fathoms. The fish pots were made of whist. We would sometimes mix the whist with birch sticks. The traps would be weighted down with two stones. We didn’t have fish trap buoys then. When someone would go to St. Thomas, and they had a friend with WAPA, they would get old telephone poles and cut them and then quarter them and carve a neck to tie up to. They would last about six months and then they would get heavy. Then you would rotate them and put the old one in the sun to dry, and it would get light again.

In those days when we would catch lobster. We would break their backs with a stick and put them in the pots for bait. The butterfish, hind, oldwife and grouper that they attracted to the lobster were much more desirable then. Later when there was a good market for lobster, we would catch lobsters. When I was young there was no diving, as there was no diving glasses. We would hunt lobsters at night in the shallows. We used a coconut stalk and burn it, and have one ready when that one went out. It was very bight, and the lobsters would be attracted to it. We used a forked stick to pin the lobsters, and then someone would put them in a crocus sack.

Some of the men were farmers, and they would never go out in boats, but they would fish from the land. They would chum with soldier crabs pounded up with sand. The lobsters would come up and eat the chum and they would be able to catch them on hook and line. You had to pull them in fast as the lobster could file the hook and you would lose it.

A Hunting Story
It was winter, and the ground sea was so strong that you could hear it pound the cliffs on the north side. Enrique George was out on the north shore hunting goats with his two dogs. He didn’t return.

The next day we organized a search party and radioed Tortola for help. The police from Tortola found his shoes on Mutton rock. He probably took off his shoes for better footing when he went down with his dog after the goat. One of the dogs was also missing. A great wave from the ground sea must have washed him into the sea from the cliffs high above the north shore.

Walk to Mill Round with Ivan Chinnery 10/6/94

We meet Ivan at seven AM by Foxy’s. It’s quiet and people are sweeping up and starting their day. Sand flies; Skin so Soft works against them! Ceddy is there. Ivan’s daughter comes down the hill to go to school. The trail starts at the western end of Great Harbor west of Rudy’s Place. A lady is calling her goats and they come. Everyone is friendly.

This trail has been here since the days of slavery. It has been called Plantation Road. This is the Plantation Road that leads us over to Mill Round, one of the old mills where they used to process the sugar cane into sugar. So that’s where we’re headed now.

We pass an overlook. There we see a Maubi tree which has been totally stripped of its bark for the making of Maubi. This, (Ivan tells us) is the wrong way to get the bark. This will kill the tree. If the tree was cut back and the bark removed from the cut back pieces, the tree would live. It would be even more prolific in the production of new branches, and there would be even more bark for the Maubi.

Nearby is a Turpentine tree with a hollowed out area. There is a active beehive in the hollow. Ivan see’s some whist vine.

Remember I was talking to you about how line for fish pots was made. We take three of them together, and then we start twisting or lapping them over each other. Firstly we got to put a stop. These are straight veined. We twist this one to prevent breaking and tie a knot as a stop. After we make that we start to twist. When we get to the end of the shortest one we do when we make another stop for a rejoining. The stop also helps you to pull up the trap by giving you a good hold, that’s extra. We knot the new one and start again. And we will continue with that process until we get to about 210 feet or 35 fathoms. That was the average amount of line needed to set the fish traps.

To make the trap itself we split the whist down the middle. We usually get a big piece of sail canvas and put it on our knee. Then we get a good sharp knife and spilt the whist, and take the bark off the other side. Now we can commence to start weaving the fish trap. I don’t make them, but this will give you an idea about how it’s done. One of my brother makes them. As you can see there is mesh number one. This type of fish trap will catch more fish then the modern kind made of rebar and tying wire. Number one, it’s natural. Number two it sends off a natural fragrance which attracts them.

That rock we call it Sarah Rock. That entire mountain, we call it Hatchet Hill. Sarah rock up on top Hatchet Hill. Sarah is my mother’s name. See here where you see this piece of fence. She used to raise lots of goats. She is retired now and she’s ill. My mother farmed all her life. She was a farmer, one of the strongest farmers on this island, you know, and being a woman! She farmed all her life. She farmed from cows to goats… Come over here I’ll show you. Her last farming area was on the mountain, on the left ridge, up there. (He points to the ridge top way up on the mountain about 800 feet high.)

Look way up there in the valley to the right. That’s my farm you’re looking at up there. You see the huge trees up in the middle with the trail to the left. I scooped that out of the forest and made my farm. Those are avocados and mangos.

There used to be about 100 head of cows on the island. Now there’s only a few. Modern technology wiped everything out. The Pueblo the Grand Union the poli – tricks and the hypocrites. Now they can bring their frozen cows in from Miami. Little Jost Van Dyke and little Tortola are threats to their marketing thing. The cows got to go to the veterinarian now because they claim they got the fever. We’ve been eating them for centuries and all of a sudden the modern business come in and something is wrong.

(We come to Mill Round)
That structure you see is part of the old sugar mill. Welcome to Mill Round. We are going inside and we’ll do a little exploring. All this stuff was brought in by sea. The mortar was made from sand, coral rock water and molasses. You notice these bricks they come from England. There are three types, red, white and these with charcoal in them.

From here we can get a good look at the Atlantic out there. That island is Tobago and that there is North Side Bay.

Let me tell you about the church. The original church was made out of wood. It was blown down by the hurricane of 1924. Part of the roof was blown to St. John on the north shore. After that they built a new church in 1925. The year is engraved right there on the face of the church.

And that’s where I got my schooling, in that church. It was Methodist. John Wesley he move in. Methodism took over. That is our dominant religion. So that was a church and a school since 1925, until about the early 1970’s when the government built us a school.

After slavery the landowners gave the land to the people and went back to England. People survived by farming and fishing. All these hills were cultivated either for the grazing of animals or the raising of crops. In those days a lot of rain used to fall.

A lot of charcoal was made up here. You had to carry down charcoal on your back in crocus bags. Three or four five gallon pails will fit in one bag. They have what they call a cahtah. You know what a cahtah is? You get a towel and you twist it around like a wreath and then you use it for a padding. You put it on your shoulder and your head and then you put the charcoal bag on that. If you have a donkey, the donkey will carry two crocus bags at a time.

1975 I start my farm. You won’t believe the huge avocado and mango trees that are up there. Some grafted some from seed. My biggest mango weighed four pounds. There ain’t no way you could eat one. If you eat one, you don’t want no more, and you rest man! When I carry one of those size home, it shares for my family my wife and two girls. Four pounds, four people. It’s a hybrid from Puerto Rico. I got it from my good friend, John Gibney.

I have this one tree. She’s a Vietnamese mango. It’s from John. When they come and when I take them by Foxy’s, Foxy bar will buy any amount. It makes a great mango drink. Because there’s no hairs no fuzz, and the blender just melts them up. Oh man, you add a little rum, a little touch of the coconut, um! Nothing’ sweeter, nothing’ more delicious!”

(We walk by the well in Great Harbor. It’s surrounded by black rock and looks very old.) As you can see this is one of our original wells. This been here for 100s of years. It’s still intact. And that is spring water. Fresh water. Nice tasting water. If I had a bucket I’d drink some right now. It has all of the minerals.

(About the campground in White Bay) Actually I started clearing the grounds for this project in November 1991 and it took me about a year of landscaping, cutting and digging roots and burning. You had to use a pick ax for all these roots. After that year it took me another year to actually construct the buildings. I opened in February 1993.

So far people have been liking us, man. People like the idea of a campground here in White Bay on the beach. To me, my whole idea, my picture, was just seeing a nice place that everybody can come and enjoy right here. White Bay is the perfect place for all, all the people, nothing private. Everybody could come here. I’m the proprietor, and we’re going to make sure maintain it and we’re going to keep it nice for everybody to come and really enjoy the best of it. Ain’t no it’s my place, and you can’t swim here and you can’t swim there. It don’t matter. So here I am, and so far everybody loves this place. When I started out, I started out with two little huts and two tents and now I have six cabins and one tent. If you want to come and bring your own tent, we have a bare sight for you. Then we have toilets, showers; we have a kitchen where you can prepare your own food.

I spend nine and a half years in the service. Part of my military experience was being able to be stationed in Hawaii. When I went over there, I took a look at the pineapple fields and it really inspired me. I said, hey man this place is warm and look how much pineapples are growing here. It just really give me a spark. I can be successful at growing pineapples at home. When I go home, I can open up my pineapple farm. That is where I really get my whole insight from; just looking at the Dole pineapple farms over there. It was really inspiring to me. So after I came back in 1975, then I started to open up some lands that my family owned. It was about eight of us all together. Each of us had our own individual plots. From Foxy to Aisha to Junie or Herman to Ali Baba, myself, Raffy and maybe a couple of others. I can’t leave out Mr. Etien, Etien Chinnery, I really look up to him, he’s been farming over fifty, sixty years he’s still farming. So far twenty years now I’m in the business of farming. I’ve grown about 3000 pineapples as well as banana, avocados, guavaberry, guava, mangos, grapefruit, limes, soursop, sugar apples I got quite a variety of different fruits. After all of these things start coming, and it was more than I could eat, and I started selling them in the street. Then I found out a way that I could have my own place. I leased the land for Nature Basket from the government. My wife runs it, and I keep it supplied. So far it’s been working

This year 1994 is the most serious drought I’ve seen since I’ve been born. It was dry for almost eight months, no rain. Now in September we had quite a bit of rain, but its hold off now.

Royal Visit
Jost Van Dyke was a stop on Princess Alexandria of England’s State visit to the Caribbean. When she arrived on Jost Van Dyke with her secret service and retinue, there was a large banner over the dock at Great Harbour welcoming her. As she was walking west down the beach road toward Rudy, she stopped all of a sudden around the location of the Methodist Church. It was as if a spirit had hit her; the relaxed and comfortable, at home, feeling of Jost Van Dyke. She stopped and she took off her shoes. They were golden shoes. She continued on her way barefoot. At the end of Great Harbour the well organized plan was for her to turn around and go back to the dock and continue on her way. The princess bolted from her secret service people and bodyguards. She explained that she was not ready to leave. She wanted to buy some local pastry. She went to Miss Christine’s bakery, which was down by Rudy in those days, and she went inside and got some coconut cake, and when she was ready she bid a warm and genuine goodbye to the people of Jost Van Dyke. In the years following her visit she has written several letters thanking the citizens of Jost Van Dyke for there hospitality. The princess has said that her visit to the small island of Jost Van Dyke was the absolute highlight of her Caribbean visit.