Our Last Nights in St. Kitts and Heading Home

My struggles with the Internet service here have continued. For the last two days every time I tried to get on my Comcast Email, I was somehow redirected to the hotel wireless log in page. Finally yesterday afternoon, laptop in hand, I camped in the business center and wouldn’t leave until they admitted it was not my problem but theirs. After I spent an hour convincing them, they agreed to work on the issue. At that point, I took my laptop, and told them to call me when they got it fixed. I headed down to the pool with a large rum drink to get out of my mad. It worked. (Oh and the Email access was fixed when I got back)

Earlier in the day we drove to the very remote end of the island for lunch. It is indescribably beautiful, and there are wild goats and monkeys everywhere. We ended up (literally) at the Reggae Beach Bar and Grill which was at the end of the end of the road. You could see the island of Nevis very close by. The Reggae was an open-air board floored sand everywhere kind of place. There was smoke billowing from the grill in the back and the blender was buzzing away on the bar. All complete with the customary Reggae music background. The menu was interesting, and we made our choices. Vickie got a barbequed chicken salad, Brenda got a hamburger, Jerry got a Mahi Mahi plate, and I got (finally) my Conch chowder, and Conch fritters. The food came and it was wonderful. The plates all had a salad that had pasta, little black beans, lettuce, cucumber, peas, and some type of fried orange root vegetable that was delicious. My Conch chowder was perfect, with just enough sand in it so you knew it was real, also plenty of conch meat slightly chewy. The Conch fritters were made from conch meat and the orange root vegetable used on the other plates, crisply fried and delicious. Jerry commented the fish was perfect, and Vickie raved about her chicken.

Also today was our shopping day. We usually take one day and let the girls take us shopping in the little booths and stalls of where ever we might be. Today there was supposed to be no cruise ship in port in Basseterre so we thought that would be a good time. Unfortunately the woman who though she knew the cruise boat schedule didn’t and we pushed and shoved with all the cruise boat folks to do our shopping. We did find some cool shirts and stuff for the girls, and sent some postcards home.

On today’s docket is some possible snorkeling; it has been so rough that we have not been able to get in the ocean here. Today seems a little calmer.

Well I wrote the above earlier, and did get a chance to do some snorkeling. It was rough, but once you got away from the shore it was tolerable. They have a breakwater off shore from the Marriott beach, and all along the breakwater were numerous kinds of fish. I spent about an hour cruising around, and ended up with a lot of salt water in my sinuses from the wave action.

After snorkeling I retired to the veranda for some refreshing rum drinks and also laid by the pool for a while. We decided to go to the famous Mr. X’s Shiggity Shack for dinner. We drove over and got a great table right on the beach. I really wanted a Caribbean lobster, and they had that on the menu grilled. Jerry and I both ordered that, Brenda ordered Mahi Mahi grilled and Vickie ordered Spear Ribs, which was their take on spare ribs. We had the specialty fruity rum drinks of the day, and awaited our food. When the food came, I got a disappointment. Jerry got the last lobster, and they brought me Mahi Mahi without even asking. Since I love grilled fish, I went along, but I had expected more from a place that had been so highly rated in Trip Advisor. Guess I’ll just have to come back for my Caribbean lobster. They had a band at The Shiggity Shack, but their first few numbers left us cold, so we headed back to the Marriott. Turns out the Marriott had a great Reggae band playing in the lobby, and Vickie and I danced, drank and sang the night away. It didn’t hurt that I had on my Bob Marley shirt, and knew a lot of the words to the music they did. We were the sparkplugs of the gathering, and made a lot of new friends that night. I don’t really remember how many rum thingies got consumed, but when the band took it’s last break, Vickie hauled me off to the bed. (I think she just wanted to go to the casino)

Saturday was a pretty laid back day for me. After I recovered from all the snorkeling, swimming, partying, eating, drinking, dancing, partying, dancing, drinking, well you get the picture. Guess I sort of felt my age a little on Saturday (To put it politely).

Saturday night, we had a wonderful dinner of all the leftovers, sandwich stuff and snacks from the week, and packed our bags. Later we all indulged in rum-raisin ice cream from the Pizza Shack at the Marriott. Sunday morning it was up at 07:00 and off to the St. Kitts Airport. Now we’re on a 5-hour layover in St. Maarten, waiting for our flight to Atlanta. Tonight we stay in Atlanta, and then back to GSO Monday morning. We’ll have the first cell service in almost 2 weeks tonight so hopefully we can contact some folks. Leaving paradise.
More later,
Wes

Traveling the Island and visiting Brimstone Hill

Monday we hit the pool early. Vickie went by the Calypso Café and got some donuts, which went great with the rum punch, I started drinking around 07:00 since we really didn’t have anything else. By the middle of the morning, they said they were going to head off for the grocery store. At this point I suggested I would stay put and keep an eye on the pool. Just bring more mixers. They came back later and all I really heard was the streets are so narrow that one time Jerry’s mirror got brushed back (possibly on a woman). Also that the grocery store, an IGA, was quite minimal in it’s selection and that the prices were high. However, we got the basics for sustenance for the rest of the week and they joined me back at the pool. Vickie made sure I was properly coated with sunscreen, and Jerry brought me a wonderful sandwich.

I told them a story about while they were gone. I decided to explore, and after checking out the various shops and restaurants (all very expensive) and ended up at the pool bar where you can sit in the water and socialize at the bar. While I’m sitting there this fellow with quite a number of tattoos, all of which were high quality, sort of gruffly said to me the classic “Whad’a you lookin at?” Now you have to remember I was wearing my Stevie Wonder black RayBans, and the chance of him being able to see my eyes was slim or nothing. Since he was quite large I decided to ignore the whole situation and soon left the pool bar back to My Space at the other pool. After sitting and contemplating the whole situation over several more rum punches, I decided to go back and find the guy. I found him, and very politely asked him what his problem was. He said sorry forget about it, he was having a bad day. I accepted that and went on about my business. Interestingly enough later on that evening, he came over and shook my hand and said he wanted to apologize, he was really sorry; it was just a bad moment for him. Amazing how human interaction goes. If I had been confrontational with him at the first meeting………I probably would have got my ass whipped and been in big trouble in a foreign country. As it turned out, I turned the other cheek, and all was well.

The next day I asked Jerry if we could try and find a local produce market so I could get some ingredients for a couple of dinners. He agreed and despite his harrowing first driving experience, we set out again. This was my first time as navigator. I’ll have to admit it is pretty weird sitting behind the dashboard where you are used to driving except all the controls are on the other side. We soon learned the technique of me watching the left side and folding the mirror when necessary with Jerry driving and doing the same on the right. Roundabouts are especially challenging. We found a little market down by the ferry terminal (ferry to Nevis) and I got some nice produce. We then headed on around the island on some of the skinniest roads I have ever seen. The roads are about a lane and ½ wide, and they allow parking on most of them. It’s pretty insane driving. After a while, Jerry made a right turn and we found ourselves headed up the access road to Brimstone Hill Fortress.

Brimstone Hill Fortress is a very significant point in the history of the Caribbean. Because of this fort and its commanding view of the surrounding waters, the English managed to maintain control of the West Indies and its lucrative sugar trade for hundreds of years. We got to the top of the winding access road and found it was $8 per person to visit plus $5 for an electronic guide phone thingie. We were a little hesitant about the steep entrance fee, but after viewing the fort, we were pleasantly surprised. Wisely, St. Kitts and England have turned preservation of Fort George over to a private foundation. All the money collected goes to support a small staff and the preservation of the fort. The Island Government contributes an annual stipend to assist with the work. The electronic guide really wasn’t necessary for us as Jerry and I had both read, “The Sweet Trade a History of St. Kitts” before coming here. We knew the significance the fort but it was just so cool seeing it in person. The views from atop the fort were astounding.

We continued our trip around the island, and in the process discovered we really didn’t need to spend the $89 per person to ride the old sugar cane train. The tracks ran pretty much parallel to the road and we got to see most of everything the train would have. Also we discovered the train only goes half way around the island and then they make you get off and get on busses. We followed our map and soon we were back at the resort. I just discovered recorded on my pocket recorder: I was supposed to report, on the way home from the fort, we saw 2 monkeys, 2 rainbows, and a site where they are building an old folks home that we all decided is where we want to end up. Also on the return trip we drove past the land fill which my compatriots that can smell said smelled pretty bad. Brenda commented it was quite a waste of beachfront property to make it a landfill. I figure in 10 years there will be high-rise condos on top of that landfill.

Would like to take a minute to diverge into a discussion of the Marriott Beach Club here at the St. Kitts Royal Marriot Hotel and Casino. We have stayed at numerous Marriott Vacation Club properties, and many other time-share properties under different company management. This Marriott is a little curious in that it’s a hotel and casino first, and then a time-share second. In order to build their time-share units, they are converting hotel buildings to time share buildings. It has only really been open as a time-share for about 2 years. They don’t quite have it right yet. We waited 18 months to get a trade to a unit here for our unit in Aruba. I’m not sure it was worth the wait. The grounds are beautiful, the pools are very nice, and the beach is large. It just escapes me what the issue is, but I think it’s the hustle bustle of the Hotel and Casino. People are always coming and going and the time-share is just a tiny part of the operation. The units are nicely appointed, but not up to the standards we expect from Marriott. Examples are Sunday when we arrived, I reported the exhaust fan did not work in my bathroom, it is Thursday and no mention made of it. (I even gave the General Manager a note at the Tues night Owners Reception---that was a joke) And then there is the whole issue with the Internet access. No one seems to care, no one talks to each other, and all they do is jerk me around. This is at what is supposed to be a 5 star resort----whatever that means. And the windows are all cloudy in our bedroom, there are only three chairs for the deck for a unit designed for at least 2 couples. There is no broiler pan in the stove, and no cookie sheet for heating bread. I could go on and on but you get the drift. Rant over.

One cool thing that has happened, a family of Lesser Antillean Bull Finches has adopted us. I noticed them scurrying around looking for cracker crumbs when we were snacking, so I gave them some cracker. Now they come right up to the door and chirp merrily asking for crackers. Their sound is quite pleasant, and they are fun company. The males are very pretty with an orange red neck with the rest very black. About the size of our North American Goldfinches. They are very unafraid, and when we really ignore them, they will come in and sit on the back of the dining room chair and chirp loudly.

Well off to the pool for some sun and relaxation. Seems like I did that yesterday, and the day before, oh well it’s a dirty job but someone has to do it.
More later,
Wes

To St. Kitts and Jerry's Driving Challenge

Sunday morning, we packed all our things back, piled them in the rental car, and headed for the St. Maarten airport. Of note here is our discovery of how to operate the compactor in our villa 10 minutes before we were to leave. Four adults a new compactor, and we never could figure out how to make it compact. It is a new Kitchenaid, and turns out you pick up on the opening foot pedal with your toe to make it compact. We dropped the bags off with the girls at the airport, and rode down to turn in the rental car. Along the way we stopped to fill the gas tank. I was watching the meter spin round and round and it ended up at 25.458 liters $36.91 Florins. The guy came to the window and said $25 US so that’s what we paid him. Later reading the car rental agreement, we had a good laugh. Seems like the desk clerk, who seemed a little rushed, created a new address for Jerry. Jerry now lives at 176 Red Gerald Resort Martinsvill. Virginia VA 24112606. Hope they don’t try to send him a letter there.

Customs and TSA at the St. Maarten Airport were pretty benign, and we were soon safely camped in our boarding area awaiting transportation. Pretty much on time our Liat Air Dash 8 turboprop pulls up to fetch us. We walk out across the tarmac, and climb aboard an already ¾ full flight. We find some seats here and there and settle ourselves for take off. It is stiflingly hot in the plane, but we know as soon as they start the engines it will be ok. Wrong. They started the engines, and perhaps because it was a low altitude flight, the pilot never turned on the air that blows out of those little overhead twisty things. So as the automaton (read flight attendant) droned her way through pages of the usual text, we taxied out for take off. I figured it had to get cooler when we were off the ground. Wrong again. Luckily it was only about a 20-minute flight to St. Kitts, and after one more memorized spiel from the robot flight attendant, we were in St. Kitts.

Customs and immigration in St. Kitts was very low key, with the exception of the lady that kept telling us to change lines.

Here I have to diverge a little to explain my great fall. You know how they have those movie theater type ropes to designate lines when you have things like say immigration. There was a grand total of about 10 or 12 folks that got off the plane in St. Kitts, and there were four “lanes” designated by the movie theater ropes. Jerry and Brenda picked one lane and proceeded on through. Vickie and I picked another lane and were told to stand at the yellow line. Then soon a lady came and told us to change lanes. Since the ropes were only about 18” off the ground, I decided to step over them rather than walk all the way back to get in the other lane. Then in a little while she told us to change lanes again. I repeated the process only this time I caught the top of my crock on the rope and went down with my armload of stuff the rope and poles. Everyone thought I was dead or something and came swarming. A very nice gentleman held out his hand and helped me get up from the floor. I was unhurt, just felt kind of dumb. I overheard the supervisor getting all over the lady to be sure and make the folks walk back and go around when changing lanes. I still don’t get what all the changing lanes stuff was about.

Finally our turn came, and we were processed through immigration by a girl who sang most of the time she was processing our papers. She didn’t sing to us, she just sang. But the papers were processed, and our luggage was half-heartedly searched, and we picked up our Hertz car. Two interesting twists here: first you have to buy a 31-day St. Kitts temporary drivers license. No test is required, just that they copy down the info from your driver’s license and you give them $25. Just another mindless tourist fleecing these islands seem to be so good at. Maybe the US could learn from this---let’s tax the heck out of all incoming and outgoing tourists that are not American nationals. But then that would be un-American or would it. Second surprise was twofold, first they drive on the left here (like England) and second, our Honda Accord had the steering wheel on the passenger side. Jerry had experience driving on the left side, but never when the steering wheel was on the passenger side. So we loaded up the luggage, and timidly headed out into the St. Kitts traffic, all of us helping Jerry to stay to the left.

After a brief drive and only one wrong turn, we arrived at the St. Kitts Marriott Beach Club. We were heartily welcomed, and given a young fellow to escort us and haul our luggage to our room. This place was quite different than other Marriott Vacation Club we have been to in that it is attached to (actually part of) Marriott St. Kitts Resort and Royal Beach Casino. Therefore the lobby is quite bustling and busy. We arrived at our room, and were greeted by what we have come to expect from Marriott Vacation Clubs, very nice accommodations. (With a few exceptions I’ll get into later)

Our first surprise was that the grocery store was only open from 8-12 am. So we were out of luck there. The resort contained a few little shops, so Brenda and Jerry went off in search of necessities. Bless their hearts back they came with a big bottle of local sugar cane rum and some delicious fruity mixers. We were soon unpacked and down by the pool enjoying the trade winds. For dinner that night we availed ourselves of something called the Pizza Shack, which served pretty good individual pizzas, and an OK Caesar side salad. We then retired for the night planning our exploits for the next day.

What I have not spoken about here yet is the Internet access issue. All of the rooms were supposed to have wired Ethernet connections, of which our suite had 3. However no matter what plug I plugged into or what cord I used, it wasn’t there. So I called the “supposed to help you with everything” folks. They sent two different guys up with different cords, and then finally told me they must have a problem, the big I.T. guy wasn’t here, I should go to the business center and they’d give me some free time. Well I walked all the way to the business center (closing in 20 minutes) and the guy looked at me like I was crazy. He made some calls, and then told me to go back to my room and I would have wireless. I got back to the room (oh and all this involved walking back and forth about ½ a mile) tried the wireless and it didn’t work—wanted a code. So I called them back, and they said they could provide wireless, but it would be $20 for 24 hr. I promptly told them I wasn’t paying for something that was supposed to be free. So they sent another guy up and finally got me on wireless. Great---or not so. The only place the wireless works in the condo is out on the deck, and then doesn’t have enough power to upload anything, and barely read Email. So, tired of fooling with the stuff, I gave up and read a book till bedtime. It gets better.
More later,
Wes
challenge

Jet Blast at The Sunset Beach Bar

Last I wrote, we were headed for the Sunset Beach Bar to experience a uniquely local pastime involving the jet wash from huge jet planes. St. Maarten has only one active runway. 90% of the time the planes land and take off toward the mountains with the sea at their back. On the end of the runway where the planes start their take off is a narrow strip of public land outside the airport perimeter. This is where the Sunset Beach Bar is located. They have an old surfboard stuck in the ground outside the bar where they keep a list of all the landing and departure times. Also on the bar deck they have speakers so you can hear the conversations between the pilots and ground control. Landings are one particular sort of thrill. You stand directly in front of the runway and these huge planes hurtle toward you passing about 50 feet over your head. Looks like they are going to fly directly into where you are standing. The take offs are another thing entirely. Some brave souls have been known to hang on to the fence that demarcates the airport property. It’s said that one of the larger jets will actually blow them up so their feet are off the ground. We were not able to witness this particular type of lunacy. We did, however, get to see some brave young boys stand on the beach in the direct blast zone. When the jet started its take off run, they were pushed and then tumbled down the beach into the water. One young buck was able to save his beer but lost his camera in the process. It was sort of like a small Olympic sport, as all the patrons on the bar deck cheered for great performances.

One thing worth mentioning: while Vickie and I were sailing earlier, Jerry and Brenda strolled the boardwalk and had a wonderful lunch at one of the oldest hotels on St. Maarten, The Pasanggrahan Royal Guest House. They had Bell Pepper stuffed with Chicken Salad, and a Tomato stuffed with Tuna Salad, both presented on a bed of lettuce pepper rings and other greenery. They said the food service and ambience were wonderful, in spite of two cruise ships being in town. Since Jerry and Brenda had a late lunch, we just grabbed something at the McDonald’s drive though on the way home from sailing. Amazing McDonalds is pretty much the same everywhere, but it tasted like they still used the good (including trans fat and flavoring) grease to cook their French Fries. They tasted like the McDonald’s fries I remembered.

The next day, we set out on a circumnavigation of the island to see the French side. We drove all the way up the other coast, and saw the numerous beaches and vistas. This is truly a grubby little island with great scenery and beaches. They are taking in an immense amount of tourist taxes and fees, but very little of it is going into infrastructure. It is also the land of speed bumps. Almost every road you drive on has periodic speed bumps often tall enough to scrape the frame of the car. The locals use the speed bumps as sort of crazy passing zones. They wait for the tourists in their rental cars to slow for the speed bumps and then they fly by at high speed passing while ignoring the speed bumps. This must be a shock absorber salesman’s heaven. Oh and they have speed DIPS which as you can guess are the opposite of speed bumps. We decided they are even worse and they don’t paint any of the darn things yellow, dips or bumps. On the way home from the circumnavigation we stopped at the Boathouse Seafood Grill and Bar for a late lunch. The food turned out to be excellent. Jerry and I had Fish and Chips that we both agreed were some of the best ever, and the girls had wraps that they greatly enjoyed. Tomorrow we pack up and travel on to St. Kitts.
More later,
Wes

12 Meter Racing in St. Maarten

Well we were up bright and early yesterday morning to get ready for our sailing adventure. We donned scopolamine patches at the prescribed time to ward of the dreaded motion sickness. At Christmas, my daughter and her husband gave us a brown business envelope with a Xerox certificate in it. The certificate was for our participation in the St. Maarten 12meter challenge. We checked it out on the Internet, and it looked like great fun. (Also looked a little scary) But back in St. Maarten, we had it all planned, Jerry and Brenda were going to drive us down to the port and take pictures as we left. They would have fun in Phillipsburg while we were out sailing. We arrived in Phillipsburg a little early on purpose to be sure we had enough time to navigate the traffic and find Bobbies Marina where the sailing was headquartered. We drove past the tiny sign for Bobbies a couple times till we found the entrance to the parking lot. Once landed in the parking lot, we still had to ask directions to get to the 12meter shop. It was over there through the alley down to the water and turn left….but watch out cause they are paving down along the water. But undaunted, we found the place in plenty of time and a very nice lady, who knew my daughter from Email, accepted our certificate and told us we’d be heading out in about 30 minutes. We wandered around and then sat down out front to wait.

Soon a pontoon sort of boat pulled up and tied up at the dock. It said 72 passengers max, so we were a little confused. The nice lady told us it was big cause it had to take the 09:30 folks off the racing boats and put us on. We saw a young photographer and his yellow lab get into an inflatable boat and head out with great speed to the harbor, wondering what his mission was. Once again we were talking to the nice lady and she was telling us all about cruise ships and the tourism industry. She told us there were only 2 ships in today, and they could hold 4 at their dock. They are expanding their dock to hold as many as 6 ships. She said last year, they would often have 5 or 6 ships and two of them had to moor off shore, tendering their folks back and forth to the shore. (The cruise ships don’t like that because it’s too much expense and trouble) She also said they actually had 9 cruise ships in port at one time and it was insanity. So the cruise companies got together and adjusted sailing schedules so now 4 at a time is about the norm.

Back to the sailing: At the appointed time we loaded on the shuttle boat with 12 or so folks, and headed out. We waved and Jerry took pictures. Two minutes later we were pulling back into the dock and Jerry took pictures again. Jerry and Brenda cheered and asked how was it. We picked up some stragglers, and then left again. (Little did I know I was really glad we went back to get the 4 young boys that got on) Now we headed out into the port area seeing all the boats, cruise ships, beautiful cliff houses, and brilliant blue green water. Soon we pulled in again, but this time it was at the water taxi dock near the cruise ships. Here we got back off the shuttle and met the rest of our racing folks. A real great guy was there to tell us the whole history of America’s Cup Racing, and divide us into teams. Vickie and I got on the same team, and our team captain got to participate in the coin toss for boat preference. We all discussed it, and told her if she won the toss we wanted Stars and Stripes (Dennis Conner’s winning boat from 1987). We won the toss and got Stars and Stripes. Then we got back on the shuttle boat, now sitting as two teams. They encouraged us to trash talk the other team and start getting our team spirit together. Later he came around and assigned us jobs for our up coming race. We had our choice of “active, semi active, or non active” jobs. Vickie and I both said we would try anything. I didn’t know at the time but Vickie whispered to Ron the job guy “Don’t put the man behind me(Wes) near a rope because he tangles extension cords badly” She ended up as the Main Sheet Trimmer with tangly ropes reporting directly to the captain. (Perfectly suited to her cause she is good with ropes and keeping them untangled) I ended up as a galley slave, better known as a Primary Grinder. (According to the crew on real race boats they use NFL linemen as grinders because of their strength and quickness) I’m sure he picked me for my strength and quickness.

Soon a delicate ballet started to get the shuttle “barge” alongside the greyhound like sailing vessels. We were safely secured along side our race boat, and we transferred off the earlier crew, and we climbed aboard. The ballet was repeated for the Canada II, which was the boat we were to race.

While they got the Canada II loaded up and for the rest of trip out to the race starting point, our crew (Captain, Mate and 1st Mate) taught us how to crew a 12meter boat. Vickie had to learn how to loosen or tighten the rope around her drum winch, which allowed the main sail sheet to go in and out. She had two Main Grinders to power her winch pulling it in. I was introduced to the job of Primary Grinder. The Primary Grinders supply the power for 2 winches, one on either side of the boat, which put tension on the jib (sail in the front). What we had to do is take orders from both of the mates, and when they told us, 4 people working together grabbed these rotating handles and cranked like hell in one of 3 “gears”. Luckily it was me 2 young boys from Brazil, and a young girl. These two young boys were part of the four we went back to pick up at the dock. Otherwise, it would have been me, the girl, and couple of old women as Primary Grinders. Of course you had to do all this cranking while bracing your feet at crazy angles as the boat heeled from side to side. To quote myself “It was more fun than fun”. The Captain would yell “tacking” which would be followed by a whole bunch of frantic grinding, ropes flying around and a big whomp as the sails took up the strain on the other side of the boat. At the coaching and encouragement of our Captain (His name was Captain Morgan----really) we started whooping and cheering when we got off a good sharp maneuver. Me and the other grinders started making great growling noises as we sprang to our work, and life was good. We had a perfect day, not too hot, waves not too huge, and 18 to 20 knots of wind. We tacked back and forth in front of the starting line maneuvering for position on the other boat. (I learned that the boat on the port tack has the right of way)

We had a good clean start, and began tacking back and forth on our 1st upwind leg. Even though they told us 20 to 22 knots was as fast as we’d be going today, it seemed we were flying over the water. We were pretty much in a dead heat at the end of the first leg, and rounded the marker smartly. We started the downwind leg, and they told the Primaries to take a break on this leg, which involve a cold beer that went down in about 4 swallows and never tasted so good. Half way through the downwind leg, Canada II passed us and the Captain decided to tack off for some better winds. (Surprising the Primary Grinders) Beer cans and water bottles hit the floor as we sprang to the task. We picked up some better wind, and were slightly ahead rounding the second marker. As we turned back up wind, we began a tacking duel with Canada II and I thought my arms were going to fall off. But every tack we were gaining on them, and one time we came so close to the other boat our Captain caught the perfect wave and put tons of water in the other boats cockpit. We had one more leg to go, and the Captain let our team captain choose the turn direction. He asked us if we had another tacking run in us and received a resounding yes, so we went for it. At times the sides of the boat were down almost to the water, but we were flying, and as we approached the official boat we did one last lightening tack, and ended up on the inside with the shortest distance to the finish line. We won by about 6 feet, and what a feeling. My arms were burning and the mate told us we just did about an hour, the real racers go for about 6 hours. Wish I’d discovered this when I was young. Vickie did a great job with her sheet trimming, as the Captain called out “Vickie sweetheart, give me 2 feet out” or “Vickie give me 20 feet out quickly”. By the end of the race it was mostly “Sweetheart”. She had a very difficult job, and handled it with precision.

After the race and a brief celebration, we went back into port and tied up to a mooring. We were the last race of the day. They offered if we wanted to go swimming, over the side was fine, they had a rope ladder to get back up. I didn’t think my walrus self could navigate a rope ladder, but Vickie went it. Turns out getting back up the rope ladder was pretty tough but the crew were good sports and helped Vickie make the climb. Soon we boarded the tender for the trip back to shore. We stopped by the shop for a complimentary Rum Punch, and some souvenirs. Turned out the photographer with the dog in the boat worked for them, and we bought a great picture from him of us at work on the boat as crew. That along with T-shirts that designate us as Stars and Stripes US-55 crewmembers 2009 topped off the day. If we ever return to race again and wear our 2009 T-shirts we will each get a free T-shirt for that race. Jerry and Brenda were there to pick us up, and we headed home via the Sunset Bar. The Sunset Bar is an outdoor bar at the end of the runway at the airport. Everyone comes there to experience the jet blast from the departing jets, but that’s another story. Regards from Paradise,
More later,
Wes

Sunset at Calmos Grand Case St. Maarten

Our first day at The Cliff consisted of swimming in the salt water, lying in the sun, then swimming in the pool, lying in the sun, and pretty much vegging out accompanied by the occasional adult beverage. As the afternoon wore on we started thinking about dinner. We decided to avail ourselves of the Concierge provided with the accommodations. Her name, quite aptly, is Gabby. She is a very knowledgeable resource, and when asked about dinner, she began by inquiring what we wanted to eat. Our reply was seafood. At that she sprung into action and sounded exactly like a Concierge, “oh I know this great place down the road a bit…….don’t know if I can get a reservation for 4………..you’ll just love the chef………sort of nuvo cuisine etc. etc”. We stood making noncommittal grunts and faces as she rattled on about this place or that, until I sort of cut through all the euro speak with “How bout a piece of grilled fish on the beach?” At this point, she immediately switched gears and became our best friend. End result was we were headed for Calmos Café to put our feet in the Caribbean with some great drinks and watch the sun go down, then walk down to the LoLo and get something cool to eat. Sounded pretty good to me.

We finished our afternoon of decadent indolence by retreating to the balcony of the villa to watch the planes and boats, read and doze, all with a background music of soothing surf below us on the cliffs.

As the afternoon wore on, showers were taken, plans were loosely made, and about 5 ish we headed up the road to Grand Case on the French side of the island. Roads on the French side of the island proved to be a little better in condition, but just as crowded and congested. We arrived at the Calmos Café, and made our way through its little souvenir shop, and were greeted by web slingback chairs with small tables and kerosene railroad lanterns, spread randomly on the beach. It was obvious what folks did was come here to watch the sunset on the beach…..all the chairs were facing the water. We chose a spot, and were served delicious cocktails by a very young very French waiter. (The girls wanted to take him home) The sun did it’s natural thing in a most beautiful fashion as we were surrounded by the moored boats of all kinds, azure blue water, and a generally dare I say romantic atmosphere. Those who know me know I’m not the romanticist, but this was one of those “don’t get no better than this” kind of place.

After sundown, we headed just a little way down the beach to what is called “The Lo Lo”. The LoLo is a place to eat on the beach, but with a twist. There are six or eight sort of restaurants all clustered together on sort of a boardwalk kind of setting, but more in a square. All of them have mostly the same food consisting of “stuff” grilled over charcoal in half an oil drum, and a row of large slow cookers with other “stuff” Pretty much how you decide where to eat is by the waitresses out front exhorting you to come to their particular establishment, and eying the “stuff” cooking on the grill. (Oh and also how close to the water do you want to be) We ended up at one establishment where the barker who was also the waitress, offered Brenda “your first drink is on the house darlin if you bring your folks here” We sat down and ordered, ribs for Vickie, chicken for Brenda, and Marlin for Jerry and I. (I hope Marlin isn’t endangered) The food came and was most interesting. The dishes were called “Foods” as in Chicken Food, Marlin Food etc. What this entailed was a huge plate with the meat main course surrounded by small piles of about 10 different items. Before dinner, she brought us some Jonny Cakes, which are like donuts only made with bread dough instead of sweet dough/batter, and deep-fried. They were delicious. Good meal, price not outrageous, and great fun. After the meal, we navigated home, getting lost and ending up coming back from the completely other direction we intended, but saw a lot of St. Maarten in the process. Everyone was pretty whipped, and books and magazines soon turned to snores and comfortable beds. We all say—it’s too early for bed, but then we wake up bright and cheerful the next morning ready to tackle another day in Paradise.

Note, yesterday I mentioned the huge abandoned golf/condo complex we had been driving through. We asked Gabby about that. Turns out it was built in the late 70’s early 80’s by the Saudi Arabian Finance Minister. Place was super deluxe, and folks like the Kennedy’s, Fords, etc. owned condos and stayed there. Then along came hurricane Luis in 1995 and decimated the place. (It also decimated The LoLo where we ate) Well according to the story, the Saudi Prince took all the insurance money and ran---not fixing anything. Numerous lawsuits flew back and forth and he ended up paying off all the condo owners ten years later, but still fixing nothing. So there it lays today as Gabby said “A national embarrassment” The wreckage still lays there, and the golf course is all grown up, untended. It looks like a den for drugs and homeless people. Gabby said the Government is still trying to gain control in the courts, but with limited success. She’s right; it is quite an embarrassment, a huge huge eyesore that you have to drive through anytime you head up the coast from the airport.

Next Wes and Vickie go on a sailing adventure.
More Later,
Wes

February in Paradise

Here we are in paradise. There is no other way to really say that. We left Greensboro Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, and it was snowing. Now a little over 24 hrs later, after a good nights sleep, we’re sitting overlooking the blue-green, see the bottom Caribbean.

The story starts with us leaving home Tuesday afternoon to spend the night in Greensboro. We had an 06:00 flight out of GSO, and decided we would rather roll out of bed @ 04:00 with a short drive, than roll out of bed at 02:30 with an hour drive and uncertain weather. We booked a couple of rooms at the Red Roof Inn on old Regional Road, not too far from the airport. Jerry takes care of rating our hotel stays on Trip Advisor, but I’ll just say the Red Roof Inn was pretty much what we paid for, a cheap place to sleep prior to an early flight. Everything was OK with the exception of a little screw up that had Jerry and Brenda assigned to a room that hadn’t been cleaned yet. However that turned out ok as they got upgraded to the “King Suite” for their inconvenience. Prior to crashing at the RRI, we stopped for a bite to eat at FATZ Café that was just up the street from the motel.

This is a restaurant that appeared to be a chain, and based on the signage, not open more than a couple of weeks. It was obvious after we were there for a while that they were still undergoing some growing pains. Let’s just say the service was very friendly but somewhat ineffective. I got a little worried when I went to the restroom, and happened to look into the kitchen. (This particular door probably wasn’t supposed to be open) I saw 12 or 14 people in various uniforms standing in a mob gesturing vigorously. This didn’t bode well for the fate of our dinner, as I related to my companions upon returning to the table. But then maybe they were just having a pep rally to get the old team spirit going. In any event, our food started arriving, and the salads were definitely salads. Finally the main courses arrived and looked appetizing. Brenda and Jerry had ordered a Philly Steak Sandwich to split, and the kitchen crew graciously split the sandwich and the accompanying fries to two plates. Vickie had ordered a smothered chopped steak, and it looked good, but had an odd taste to the gravy. I tasted it and thought they perhaps used wine or vinegar to deglaze the pan albeit a little heavy handed. I had ordered a Thai Shrimp dish that was supposed to come over fried potato straws. It ended up coming over very tiny thin onion rings. The whole thing was dusted with wasabi sesame seeds, and looked pretty good. It tasted OK, but was way to salty, and the sauce was an unimpressive, probably bottled, oriental chili sauce type of “stuff”. On the whole we were unimpressed by the food and the prices were low to medium. After dinner it was back to the Red Roof, and watch a little tube to get sleepy early for an 0:400 wake up call.

As Robin Williams said in Good Morning Viet Nam “What does the O in O4:00 stand for?………….. OH MY GOD IT”S EARLY” The clock went off, the phone rang, and I was my usual disoriented self at 4 in the morning. In the ensuing years since my retirement, I have grown fond of the luxury of waking up naturally (as in when I’m damn good and ready). Forced rapid activity in the wee hours of the morning somehow seem non intuitive to my system these days. Here I’ll diverge for just a second and talk a little about the shower arrangements at the Red Roof Inn. The bathroom in the RRI was necessarily quite small. But the way it was set up the commode caught you right about in the shin if you opened the door and entered briskly. Then when I was taking a shower, they had this little package of shampoo that seemed cool, until you tried to open it. With wet soapy hands, it was impossible. So I even tried drying my hands and working on it, but the darn thing was still impenetrable. I finally resorted to biting it with my teeth and finally gave up when it dawned on me that a mouthful of shampoo was imminent. Someone else will get to fight with that little monster another time. Also a quick note about the RRI bed: although the mattress was quite comfortable, Vickie and I both learned the hard way not to sit down hard on it. Seems as though they have dispensed with the usual foundation unit and substituted a hard wooden board. This makes the bed quite tailbone jarring when you sit down briskly.

But we did what we had to do, were on our way, and had a quite pleasurable experience both at GSO and Atlanta on our way to St. Maarten. We had a nice layover in Atlanta, and used our AMEX Platinum Cards to take advantage of the Delta Crown Room. They had a nice spread of breakfast type munchies and the ever-present endless supply of adult beverages. We were soon in a much more tropical state of mind, and aboard the flight for St. Maarten. The plane was not slap full as we have been experiencing in recent travel and we had room to stretch out and enjoy the uneventful 4 hr flight.

Arriving in St. Maarten, you immediately knew coming up the jetway you were in the tropics. The heat and humidity were instant reminders. Immigration in St. Maarten was painless, and all of our luggage faithfully followed us. We had a reservation with Dollar Rent a Car, and a nice man led us out to where we would meet the shuttle to the car rental agency. Fun started here. The driver of the shuttle bus must have gone to the Cancun bus driver’s academy. For those of you that don’t remember that is where bus drivers go to learn the driving technique that involves wide open throttle followed by full braking then repeat, all done inches from the vehicle in front of you. This driver wasn’t a true believer however because one time he actually apologized for a particularly close call. Some of the others on the bus said no problem, It’s ok, doesn’t bother me. I took a different approach, I told him no problem man doesn’t bother me a bit----I’m blind. My fellow travelers began berating me heavily and told the driver I was not in fact blind. Well it broke the ice, and soon the driver felt confident enough to bypass the long line of standing traffic in the wrong lane playing chicken with an oncoming truck. He held out as long as he could stand it then ducked into a parking lot on the left to let the traffic clear long enough for another wrong lane dash down to the exit of the car rental place. He ducked in there, but had to once again stare down the oncoming traffic to back out to get to the entrance of the lot. After that, renting the car went fine with no great surprises. Our “Full Size Car” ended up being a Hundai Elantra, so we ended up with three bags in the trunk and one between the girls in the back seat. We had some general directions, and we sort of generally followed them, and actually found our place. On the way to get to it we drove through what appears to be a huge abandoned golf course condo development that is unbelievably seedy. (Read ready for the bulldozer) I have to find out about that and will relate it later.

Arriving at our lodging we were very impressed, the place was beautiful. The maid was still finishing up, so we dropped off our stuff, and headed down the street to an outside café we had seen for some adult beverages and tropical breezes. Turned out to be the Atlantis Casino, and the outdoor bar was called the Sugar Cane. We had some reasonably good tropical like drink thingies, with abominably slow service. While awaiting the glacial drink service, Vickie found a nice gentleman that gave us directions to the local grocery/liquor store. Just what we like, one stop shopping. After our refreshment, we headed off to the grocery to stock up for our four days in St. Maarten. We rounded up the necessities, and headed back to the Cliff. (That’s what our lodging is called The Cliff at Cupecoy) Now that we were really able to move in and check out the surroundings, we were really impressed. The place was very large with absolutely top-drawer furnishings. We have our own double balcony overlooking the pool, beach and Caribbean. From the living area and balcony you can hear the waves crashing against The Cliff. The whole combination is unbelievable. The resort has a Christian Dior Spa, indoor and outdoor pools, it’s own private beach, and exercise room with every machine known to man and a Concierge. Also most interesting is that the place is not even half full, maybe even less than that. There are hardly any cars in the parking lot, and we’ve seen few other folks. Like having our own private resort. We are certainly enjoying it, and spent the first day just enjoying the sun and being warm.

More later,

Wes and Vickie