(This entire 17-part story can be found in the “travel” category. We’d love to hear your comments.)
When I was 21 years old, I wrote out a list of 10 things I wanted to accomplish in my life. To date, I’ve completed seven. I’m not sure I’ll ever do the other three, but that can be attributed to age and physical ability. Things I could easily do in my 20’s and 30’s, and even early 40’s, are perhaps beyond my grasp as I approach 57 years old.
One of my seven goals became reality in 1989, when I fulfilled my wish to live in the Caribbean. I did so by living in St. Thomas in the US Virgin Islands. I chose USVI over other Caribbean locales for a couple reasons. First, they used American currency. And second, I would be able to find work there without acquiring a work visa or any such government nonsense. And lastly, they spoke English and were one of the closest island nations location-wise to the mainland United States.
A week before my scheduled departure from Cape May, New Jersey, Hurricane Hugo devastated the Virgin Islands. My friends quickly concluded that this would force me to alter my plans. You can’t be a waiter at a resort since most were out of business until repairs were made, they figured. Au contraire! I turned lemons into lemonade. I decided to bring my basic carpenter tools along, as this would afford me additional work opportunities.
I left Cape May a few days after the mid-September hurricane, driving my truck to Maple Hill, North Carolina. I own 10 acres of land there, so my plan was to park my truck in my field and hoof it to St. Thomas. With my truck secure, I made my way to Wrightsville Beach, NC.
Once there, I headed for the Intercoastal Waterway to find a suitable marina where I could find a boat ride south. This time of year, at least 90% of the yacht traffic was heading toward the warm, sunny winters in Florida and the Caribbean. I just needed to wrangle a ride aboard one of these floating palaces.
I found a marina that fit the bill. It had plenty of dock space for large boats, it had gas pumps, and it was right near a bridge so I could also solicit rides on the other side of the channel with a short walk.
I stashed my backpack and duffel bag of tools in a corner of the marina grounds were I felt reasonably sure no one would find them. Then I started working the docks, asking large boat owners, “Do you know anyone headed south that might give me a ride?” I didn’t want to put anyone on the spot by asking them directly for a ride, so I always asked if they knew someone who might give me a ride.
I spent all day asking around, crossing the bridge everytime I saw a large boat dock on that side. No luck. Near dusk, I decided to retreat from the relentless sun for awhile and rest. I laid under a boat set up on blocks, enjoying the cool shade. After a half hour, I began to itch. Soon, my arms and lower legs were aflame. Chiggers! Those little boogers were tearing up my skin. I had to get outta there ASAP.
Now dark had set in. Despite my fervent scratching, I noticed a large boat tie up at the dock on the other side of the waterway. Two fellows emerged and went into the restaurant. Could this be it?
I hung around near the restaurant entrance for an hour before they finally exited. “Do you know anyone headed south that might give me a ride?”, I asked. The larger guy answered, “Sure, come aboard”. I explained that my belongings were on the other side of the channel. “Well, go get them and come on back. We sail in the morning.” My Virgin Island odyssey had begun.
- Mountain Man