This weekend I went sailing with the Emerichs to Jost Van Dyke, one of the British Virgin Islands. The sail over was a lot of work because we were fighting upwind, so a lot of tacking. We sailed out of the Yacht Club marina, turning NW to pass between St. Thomas and the St James islands. Leaving St. Thomas to port, I saw many hotel beaches I was missing out on, ha.
Passing St. John to starboard, we went through a narrow passage between large rock outcroppings, “The Brothers.” Jost Van Dyke is WNW of Tortola, a BVI, and it took us about 3 hours to get there (and an hour and a half to return…)
There are a few “famous” must sees on Jost Van Dyke, all on the beaches of the two coves where you can anchor up, White Bay or Great Bay. The most famous I suppose, is Foxy’s, a 40-year-old bar on the beach of Great Bay that boasts one of the best New Years parties in the world. “They” say that out of all the places to be on New Years, Foxy’s is number 3: New Zealand’s first sunrise being no. 1, and Times Square no. 2 (who knows why). The Emerichs were at Foxy’s that very day, along with 3,000 of their fellow celebrants. The yachts were parked out 30 lines deep out of the bay.
On White Bay, we spent a lot of time at One Love Bar. The bartender had a still and made really great liquor, and he entertained us all with card and magic tricks.
During one trick, he said to me,
“You worry too much. Do you feel yourself worrying, because I feel it. Just to prove to you that I know that you are thinking too hard, we will do a simple test. Give me your hand.”
I gave him my right hand, palm up. He turned it over, looking it over. Still holding it, he pulled over an ashtray and put a smudge of ash on the top of my right hand.
“Now, little lady, this simple test will tell if you worry too much. If you are thinking too hard, this ash will go right through you. It will go through your skin and come out the other side.” Then he said, “Get your hand away, lift them up at your sides, and hold them there. Now don’t worry, or the ash will sink into your skin and come out the other side.”
After a few second of holding my closed fists out like an airplane, he bade me to give my hands to him. I gave him the right hand first, and lo, there was NO ASH on my right hand.
“Give me your left hand to make sure you are not a worrier.”
I opened my left hand and there it was, the smudge of ash.
“You, my dear, are a worrier. The ash sank into your right hand and passed through to your left.”
All of his tricks were like that, complex and absolutely incredible.
There, I had the best Bushwhacker, the recipe for which is right here:
Bushwhacker for Two:
4 oz cream of coconut
2 oz Kahlua® coffee liqueur
1 oz Bacardi® black rum
1 oz dark creme de cacao
4 oz milk
Blend with 2 cups ice.
In the morning, we went back to Foxy’s to use the shore heads. Brian and I were walking to the beach from the head, and we encountered an islander constructing some cages from chicken wire.
“Good morning to you, sir.”
“Good morning. Beautiful morning, yes?”
“Always. Where are you two from now?”
“Well, I’m from St Thomas,” replied Brian, who is always eager to prove himself NOT a tourist.
“Oh, now did you hear about the horrible accident near Magen’s Bay yesterday?”
“No, what happened?” I prompted.
“Well,” continued the old man, “a young man on a motorcycle lost control and slammed into a taximan. He was in really bad shape, just broke everything.”
“Oh my God, that’s horrible!” I gasped.
“Yes, and so at the hospital, the doctor called his old father, who rushed in to his son’s side. The doctor pulled him into the hall and told him that his son’s body could heal, but there was too much brain damage. ‘What can I do?’ the distraught father pleaded.
‘Well, there are three options. We have 3 brains that we can transplant into your son…’ ”
At this point I did realize it was all a joke. This happens all over, and I’m just getting used to it…
“ ‘What are the 3 options?’ ‘OK, so the first brain we can transplant into your son’s head is a German brain. He will be always on time, very loyal and precise. It is $100,000. The second option is an American brain. He will be very business-smart with money and computers and such. That brain is $200,000. The third brain is $450,000.’
‘Wait, why so much?’
‘It’s a St. Thomian brain; brand new, never been used.’”
HA HA HA.
I think islanders like me because I’m so gullible. That must be the only reason ☺
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