Our Caribbean Getaway

Greetings from St. John!

It's Tuesday and we head home the day after tomorrow. It's been an excellent, relaxing vacation. So far there has been a copious amount of rum punch, ginger beer, more rum, boats, beaches, books, snorkels, sugar plantation ruins and a ridiculous amount of hills. Any drive here on this island is like, scary road, scary road, scary road, breathtaking view. Scary road scary road scary road breathtaking view. But today, I'm a little sunburnt from the sail yesterday and this morning was a little hazier and humid than normal. So I'm kicking it on our deck to tell you a our vacation.

View from the sunset sail

Reef Bay sugar plantation ruins

We're staying at this place called Maho Bay Campgrounds. Jason found it on the internet, and it seemed like it fit our needs reasonably well. Some of the hotels and resorts we found had casinos and golf courses and all inclusiveness. Part of what we wanted to avoid were the kinds of people who stay at those sorts of places. In the taxi from the airport to the ferry, there was a horrible, horrible woman who talked on the phone the entire ride, complained about St. Thomas, complained about jetBlue, complained about her coworkers and ignored her special needs daughter. All 6 passengers were on the same overnight flight. It was 8 a.m. I was thisclose to making my own obnoxiously loud phone call complaining about the woman in the van who was unnecessarily on the phone. She was the kind of woman we wanted to stay away from and choosing the campground with the recycled arts center seemed like a good bet. 

Many of the people we've met here have been medical professionals/doctors, professors, etc. Aka, NPR listeners. I heard multiple children singing opera. That is not an exaggeration. 

Tent cabin in action

While we've been enjoying our time here, one thing is particularly troubling. The owner of Maho Bay Campgrounds, this guy named Stanley or, Mr. Maho to his friends, founded the eco-resort back in the 70s, and a few years ago sold it to an unnamed buyer. The information we've gleaned so far is that the buyer is taking great pains to remain anonymous, likely because they will be making some negative changes to this beloved place. A consortium of campers even tried to pool their resources nd buy the campground (a la Grey's Anatomy?), but it fell through. Although the future of the site remains unknown, it is definitely not going to be an eco-resort. Rumors include famous potential buyers such as Jimmy Buffett and Paul McCartney. The camp will be officially closing in May. If I was a working public radio producer, I'd get on this story ASAP. 

Part of what is so troubling about the end of this era is the need for guests to ask employees and contractors what they plan on doing next. It's creating this solemn sense of sadness and gloom. While I'm sure some employees might appreciate the concern of the guests, after about the 20th question I might've burst, "It's none of your goddamned business!" Hamilton, one of the taxi drivers, helped build Maho and has been involved in one way or another ever since. He does guided driving tours of the island, shuttles campers to Coral Bay for a night on the town, etc. People ask him about his plans and he responds in his thick Caribbean accent, "Maho don't worry about me, so I don't worry about Maho." Right on, brother. 

I mean, I'm bummed too. Although I don't know whether I would actually ever plan to come back here, it'd be nice to know the option exists. We overheard a couple on our way to a hike who have been coming to Maho the same week every year for the last nine years. Jason says that this place is like summer camp for families and adults. My closest experience to camp is Wet Hot American Summer so I don't really know. Even band camp was only days. 

Anyway, I'm glad to be on vacation but I'll also be happy to come home and see all of you. Hope this message finds you well. You can read more about Maho Bay from a professional at the NYTimes here: http://travel.nytimes.com/2009/12/06/travel/06explorer.html?pagewanted=all

beach gear

Here are some of the many Maine connections we've encountered:

After we booked the trip, we found out that a friend of mine actually used to work at this place. 

The local St. John beer is brewed at Shipyard in Portland (which I actually think I may have known but forgotten.) 

A woman on the sail with us yesterday was from Belfast, Maine. We got to talking about toothpaste, and how she had an allergic reaction to the toothpaste she tried (not made by my company.) I told her exactly what to say when she calls the company and I think I was really able to help her!

A kid on the beach with a Standard Baking Co. tshirt. 

The Heron is the boat we went on a snorkel trip with yesterday. It was built in Camden and splits its time between Rockland and St. John. 

There was another sail boat based in Maine that also splits its time between St. John and the Rockland area. 

Some other stray observations:

Jason wanted me to mention that many of the animals here are things commonly found in pet stores, salamanders, geckos, iguanas and hermit crabs aka pets that boys like. You can probably find most of these little guys in the PetSmart in Portland, Maine at this very moments. Except for the Pearly-eyed Thrasher. These birds were terrifying and everywhere.

various animals from the trip

Speaking of animals, during our snorkel trip we saw four sting rays, two sea turtles, a bajilion fish and coral, plus one bloated sea cucumber. The ideal of snorkeling intimidated the crap out of me, but because we were in the dingy with a bunch of strangers I didn't say anything until the very last second. Little known Amanda fact: I am not a strong swimmer and feel uncomfortable in areas I can't touch the bottom with my head remaining above water. Luckily, they had neon pool noodles. I don't care if swimming around the coral reef in my flowery, vintage cut one piece bathing suit with a noodle and rented safety orange snorkel gear made me look like an ass-hole-I got to see our guide hug a sea turtle. They were in a bromance and it was awesome.  

I've become so weird and stringent about recycling that despite the fact that there is no recycling for plastic on the island, I'm insisting any plastic we use hat has a symbol we wash and take back with us. Is that insane or just conscientious? 

"Goat tail up, sheep tail down." Hamilton, the aforementioned taxi driver with the Twitter length words of wisdom, explained that the sheep here look like goats because they have no need for gigantic wooly coats. You can tell the difference between the goats and the sheep because of the tails. It makes sense- why would I put on a sweater in St. John if I didn't have to? This also cracks me up because two twenty-something women coming back form Coral Bay with us recounted an argument with a different taxi driver about whether the herd of animals passing their car were sheep or goats. Those bitches were WRONG!

There were 250 stairs from our treehouse/cabin to the beach #involuntaryworkout. 

On said stairs, we passed a 10 year old boy holding a 12 rack box filled with medium-large hermit crabs. I hope they made it out alive.

At open mic/house band-night, the best performances were teenage renditions of Fade Into You and a song I hadn't previously heard by Rise Against. The lowlights included Bruce and Steve (average looking middle-aged dudes in khaki shorts and Tevas, one had a ) introduced their song as "This is a song about all the cool things you can find at a thrift shop." It was *NOT* Maclemere (sp?) and the chorus included lyrics about "the poor people store." The house band ended the evening with Wagon Wheel with flute accompaniment #freebirdofbluegrass 

PS- where should I go next??