CHRISTMAS WEEK WITH THE PORTERS
We rafted up with the Porters in Little Jost Van Dyke for almost a week. It was great fun and the best part about it was not having to use the dinghies to go back and forth. Graham spent a lot of time with Will and Danielle in the kayak and the Pudgie sailboat exploring nearby islands.
The whole group trekked to Bubbly Pool one day and it reminded us of Rachel’s Bubble Bath in Compass Cay in the Bahamas where we spent Graham’s birthday, aka Valentine’s Day, earlier this year. Bubbly Pool is a natural whirlpool/blowhole with a small beach. There was a tremendous undertow and luckily a local was there to warn us against going out too far. One person has already died this season. We were amazed at how far people would go out. The kids went geocaching to no avail.
We shared dinner with the Porters every night and had a special Christmas meal with all fixins. We watched Christmas movies and laughed and made new memories. They let us use their BVI phone to call home quickly on Christmas. Unfortunately for them, their freezer broke and they had to give us their frozen foods and head to St. Thomas for a fix. We are holding their food hostage in hopes of seeing them again soon – perhaps in St. Maarten.
After saying goodbye to the Porters, we moved around the corner to Great Harbour on Jost. Sailboats are flocking here for New Year’s Eve but we won’t stay. Matt and Amy went ashore for laundry and the place was a little bit like Twin Peaks. The whole town is a ten minute walk yet there is competition between Rudy’s and Foxy’s (bars at opposite ends of the town) for the big pig roast. We saw a pig being hauled up a tree like a pinata. The laundromat was up a little hill, behind an out of the way bull dozer, guarded by a sweet little girl wishing us a “Happy Christmas”. The laundress offered to do our laundry and told us to come back at a certain time. When we returned and the laundry wasn’t finished, she told Matt just to hang it dry on the boat. It was fine, just odd. We stopped into the grocery which was sparse but we are used to that. A couple of American teenage boys stomped in slamming the door after them while we were shopping. Without greeting to the grocer, the older one demanded, “Where’s your nearest ATM?” What? This place is slightly more populous than Gilligan’s Island but an armored car has surely never visited. Nearest ATM is probably St. Thomas. We stopped into the bakery which was good enough to make it into guidebook. It was pretty bare but Matt bought some banana bread; when I asked what kind of bread was in a particular tray, the cashier looked at me and shrugged, “I don’t know”. The whole place was a bit surreal.
AMY IN JOST
I am sitting under the tarp on the bow on my beanbag. There is a delightful breeze and tarpon are jumping all around. Turtles are navigating their way through the anchorage. The mountains of Tortola are in the distance. I can’t believe my good fortune to have this life. My son is below having completed his Christmas thank you notes and is enjoying his winter break as he is well-ahead in school, my gourmet husband is cooking dinner, and my family is healthy. Thank you God.