The Pen Shell Debacle

While walking on the beach in Anegada, I found a rare pen shell…a gorgeous translucent peach colored 6-inch long triangle shaped clam shell. I’ve only seen them in books, so I was delighted to find one on the beach. Our shell book stated that they implant themselves upright in sea grass anchoring themselves to the roots of the grass.  Immediately after this beachcombing expedition we set sail, so I tucked it under the table to “for safekeeping” Unfortunately, we store many things under the table, so later when assembling the sailing dingy the sail boards were placed on top of it and it cracked ever so slightly under the weight.

A couple of weeks later in Culebrita, I took to snorkeling the shallow seagrass beds in search of this illusive shell. I found one broken and one live clam. Generally my rule is not to collect live specimens, so I replaced it after showing it to the kids. Experience taught me for what to search, resulting in my finding a perfectly intact but highly corroded shell –covered in algae and coral.  I also found a smaller slightly damaged specimen. I am assembling enough shells to make a shadow box collection for each of the children as a momento of the trip.  I considered the task complete.

In Puerto del Rey, Linda the owner of Storm gave us a bottle of bleach that she didn’t need so it was time to clean our shells. They reek, especially those that have remnants of their former occupants. Internet instructions said to let them soak for a couple of hours to overnight. I loaded up a bucket full and after a couple hours they smelled normal, the colors were brighter and the algae for the most part gone. I had saved the precious pen shells for last. But I couldn’t find them. I had wrapped them in paper towels to protect them from further harm. It turns out that Tom, who rarely throws things away, mistook them for refuse left by one of the repairmen visiting the boat that day. Fortuantely we hadn’t taken the trahs ot and they were intact!

Sighing with relief I gingerly placed them in the bleach water just before we left for San Juan for an overnight stay. Upon returning 24 hours later,  I eagerly looked in the bucket. And what did I find? Nothing but a pile of sand.  The delicate shells had completely disintegrated in the bleach! How foolish of me not to realize the effect of this harsh chemical. So after several near misses, my own foolish actions had done them in. While the universe may be giving me a sign that it just wasn’t to be, I will continue to search diligently for pen shells in the weeks to come, and just maybe I will find the perfect 2 penshells.

Culebra/Culebrita

With the wind blowing from the south, we detour to Bahia Tortuga on Culebrita, a nature preserve.  The anchorage is full of weekend powerboats from Puerto Rico. The shell-shaped beach has lovely, fine white sand and true to its name, the bay is full of turtles. Tom immediately recognizes the boat moored next to us with a retired couple and their dog, Storm.  We learn that they have been sailing in the Virgins for over 30 years and they are a wealth of information about the best anchorages and snorkeling in these parts.  I snorkel the nearby reef, but it’s been devastated by algae. Nonetheless, I see my first cuttlefish, a huge scrawled filefish and find a live pen shell in the seagrass  (Once, I determine that it is alive, I show the kids and promptly return it to its grassy home).  Later, the kids and I find the largest sand dollar ever, nearly 8 inches across.

Sunday morning brings a hike to the northeast corner of the island to explore an area like the Baths. Our timing is poor as its low tide, but when it’s high, the surf creates a natural Jacuzzi. We enjoy watching the surf crash onto the rocks anyway. Then we scale the bluff, and the kids collect the hot pink fruit from the Turk’s cap cactus.  By 4, the weekenders all depart and only a handful of cruisers remain. As if to celebrate, the turtles begin to surface everywhere.  The next day, we snorkel on the south end of the island.  In contrast, here the reef is quite beautiful and filled with schools of tang and jacks.

En-route to Culebra, we pause at Cayo Luis to snorkel. It’s a good spot during the day, but too exposed to spend the night. The reef isn’t quite as nice, but the fish are plentiful and Zoe discovers a large orange and black surgeonfish. After passing the night at protected, but otherwise unremarkable anchorage, we head to Tamarindo, one of our favorite spots last time we came through. The swell is hitting us squarely, so we pause briefly just to snorkel. It’s better than we remember, filled with colorful pale yellow green (Venus) and purple (common) sea fans swaying rhythmically with the waves. There isn’t a large variety of fish, but we do see 5 trumpet fish and a school of over 100 jacks darts past. With the wind blowing onto the south shore we take this rare opportunity to anchor off Playa Flamenco, one of the Caribbean’s most stunning beaches. People take ferries from Puerto Rico to spend the day here. The wide beach is covered in fine, blindingly white sand. The water ranges from deep blue to a translucent turquoise near the shore and the waves are excellent for body surfing. We spend hours perfecting our technique. At 5pm, the beach empties leaving us alone in our private paradise. Remarkably, we are the only boat spending the night in this pristine spot. The next morning we head back to the deserted beach for another round of body surfing and stay until the sun, crowds and school work call us back to reality. Finally, it’s time to head to the hurricane hole for water (see “water, water everywhere”). 

During the entire time in Culebra, we’ve stayed in anchorages with barely another boat. But here in this mangrove-filled harbor the boats are stuffed in like sardines. It’s loud and dirty near shore. We are flummoxed. Why would someone chose to park in this bay day after day, (which I see as nothing more than a provisioning pitstop) when lovely, un-crowded moorings lay a short sail beyond the harbor? While the Spanish Virgins lack the infrastructure and cache of the ports in the rest of the Virgin Islands, we’ve found much to appreciate with free moorings, good snorkeling, pristine beaches and privacy. 

Water, water everywhere....

  A black cloud looms on the horizon as our water-maker is having issues. (We desalinate sea water to make fresh water.) The first red flag emerged a couple days ago when the water-maker produced water slightly above the recommended salinity level. While in St John, Tom called the manufacturer’s customer service and they assured us that it was perfectly drinkable at this level. Great, problem solved! Or so we thought. However, on our crossing to Culebra the water stays brackish. It’s not potable and too salty to even use for showers or cleaning. Since the water-maker needs to be run daily, we tend to carry a light load and it’s come to bite us as we are precipitously low.

At Culebra, we moor off the ferry dock and buy enough to last us a couple nights. Before we head to Vieques we fill the tank with 70 gallons (at $.25/gallon!), which we calculate will last us 6 days. This painful process involves filling three 5-gallon buckets and siphoning them into our tanks. Despite waiting until evening, Tom is a sweaty mess by the time he has completed the task, so we reward ourselves with dinner at Zaco’s Tacos.  The cool backward garden contrasts with the concrete jungle outside.  The tacos aren’t bad either.

Fortuitously, the next few days bring scattered showers and JT strikes upon the idea to collect rainwater. He and Tom construct an impromptu cistern using the buckets, hose and funnel. Over 2 days, Zoe and JT enthusiastically collect 30 gallons of (free!) water, which we use to clean and shower.  It’s a terrific lesson in ingenuity and we are proud of their efforts. 

Goodbye St. John

The kids are taking a glass stamping class at Maho Bay Eco-lodge, thereby committing us to a few more days in St. John.  We use them to explore some new anchorages before connecting a final time with Bob and Annie for dinner at Skinny’s.  After seeing the Barth’s off at the ferry dock, we anchor at Canelle Bay, the former Rockerfeller estate turned National Park, on par with the Awahnee in Yosemite. It’s a lovely spot with wide empty beaches. From our deck we see deer, iguanas and mongoose on shore. The next morning, while Zoe and I swim, we spot an eagle ray. Unfortunately, next to Cruz Bay it’s St. John’s most popular destination and by 10am the swells from the ferry traffic are unbearable. So its on to the next destination: Lameshur Bay. Lameshur is noted for its snorkeling, and we see our first hawksbill turtle and Spanish Hogfish. At this point we’ve nearly memorized the Caribbean fish guide, so it’s a treat to spot a rare sea creature.

Thursday arrives and it’s time for the glass stamping class. The children are making sun-catchers.  Zoe and JT each choose the frit to color their sun-catchers and their stamp. The glassblower gathers the molten glass and places the glowing orange mass on a metal table. Each child warms the liquid with a blow torch before stamping it, JT with an eagle ray, Zoe a sailboat. The glassblower adds the final touch by adding a hole. It’s a great diversion and a bargain.  Zoe is disappointed that she isn’t old enough (13 is the minimum) to take one of the more advanced classes, especially knowing that the lodge will be closing at the end of the season.

Back at Casa de Klenke, Zoe and JT meet some Annie’s nephew, KC, and his family. Zoe takes a shine to their little girl Leila who is a year and half. I haven’t seen this maternal side of Zoe before and it’s endearing.  She carries her everywhere and accompanies them to Annaberg to give yet another tour. During this trip Zoe is quite literally growing up before our eyes, both physically and emotionally.

As with many farewells, our leaving the Virgin Islands feels bittersweet. Arriving on Valentine’s Day, our time here and in the BVI has passed quickly.  We’ve made the most of it, visiting nearly all of the places on our itinerary, drawn by the beauty and diversity of the islands. More importantly, spending extended time with Bob and Annie has been a real gift for all of us, but especially for Zoe and JT.  Yet, the opportunity to explore new islands and the need to deliver Liberator to Ft. Lauderdale by mid-May are practicalities that propel us ever northward.

A Much Needed Visit from Home

The Barth’s visit provided a much-needed infusion of home. Gina, Nathan and Andrew arrived in St. Thomas a couple days before Brian, so we arranged a rendezvous at their hotel off Frenchman’s Reef.  Gina graciously watched the kids while Tom and I secured provisions.  Fortunately, the wind allowed us to anchor at the hotel’s beach, so we took advantage of long showers, before retiring to the beach bar while watching the incredible sunset and the boys building sandcastles. The next morning, Tom collected Gina and the boys from the ferry dock, giving them the boat tour and safety speech before setting off to collect Brian from the airport. One can anchor off Lindbergh Bay just a short walk from the runway…it’s the first time we’ve made an airport pickup by boat! Once Brian was onboard we headed for St John’s Leincester Bay. Despite favorable winds, everyone was hot when we arrived, so we cooled off by swimming, paddle-boarding and sailing in the dingy. The next morning, the Barth’s toured Annaberg Sugar Plantation with Zoe while we snorkeled. Unfortunately, our excursion was cut short when JT sustained several jellyfish stings through his rashguard. Once everyone was back aboard we set our sights on the BVI.

The next four days passed in a whirlwind of good company, good food and excellent Painkillers. We crammed our favorite spots into the few short days: Cooper Island, the Baths, Eustatia Sound, The Bitter End and Saba Rock’s fish feeding/Happy Hour.  The boys picked up their friendship without skipping a beat. The week saw Nathan bravely facing the lively surf at the Bath’s and Andrew swimming fearlessly from Liberator. Our last day at the Bitter End the Barth’s graciously treated us to dinner. While there, we ogled the maxi-yachts in for a big-boat regatta. These 130-feet plus long sailboats have masts reaching so far into the sky that they are required to light their masts with red lights to signify an aviation hazard. We counted 16 such masts.  A highlight for Zoe was seeing the Necker Belle, an 80-ft catamaran belonging to Richard Branson.  The days passed too quickly and before we knew it were dropping the Barths off at Cruz Bay to catch the ferry back to St. Thomas. 

After the frenetic activity of the previous 4 days Liberator felt strangely quiet and we were all a little sad. Zoe cried for an hour two days running; a combination of tween hormones coupled with a wave of homesickness. We haven’t had the good fortune to meet a family with children headed in our direction, so having good friends visit made us all a little homesick for our friends.