Sunday, February 28 (my mother's birthday)

We feel a bit like we've been on holidays, which is ridiculous, I know. It's a vacation sort of place, as opposed to some other places that are a bit fraught in terms of rough passages and poverty and garbage everywhere and locking things up always. Here, the next beautiful bay is close by, the National Park moorings are easy, the water is clean and the snorkelling is lovely. Live coral, lots of fish in most places. There's good food to buy. People are pleasant and friendly (I don't miss the fabulous disinterest of the ladies at the Epicurian in Antigua. I seem to judge all others by the rock-bottom standard they set). It feels like some of the best bits of America, only in the Caribbean. Wouldn't it be nice to have a bit of Canada, also in the Caribbean. It was gratifying to chat with some Americans on the beach the other day and to hear that "Canadians are cleaning up at the Olympics." Go Canada.

We've stopped at Leinster Bay a couple of times and snorkelled Waterlemon Cay. The first night there Randy and I sat in the cockpit after dark, and after a few frantic seconds when I batted away at a moth the size of my hand, we saw a gigantic falling star that lasted for ages and finally disappeared behind a hill. Probably burning garbage falling out of the sky. But so romantic.

Then the breeze disappears and the no-see-ums appear, and I counted 35 bug bites on my legs in the morning. And that's after slathering with bucket-o-deet. The next night I tried skin-so-soft, and they liked that just as well. Wee bastards.

Francis Bay is lovely as well, and calm (a respite from aerobic sleeping in Charlotte Amalie). So calm, that when the wind drops out at night, and the currents start nudging the boat around we wake up to the sound of the mooring ball banging on the side of the boat. Sounds like the neighbour's teenager playing basketball on the side of the house, and it will make you just as crazy. It can be remedied by going on deck naked in the starlight and hauling on the barnacle and slime-covered pennant until the mooring ball pops out from under the bobstay. Then prop the pennant line over the bowsprit and go wash the goo off your hands and go back to sleep. (Better than calling the police about the noisy neighbours and then lying there fuming.)

A couple of days ago, there was a boat next to us at cocktail hour, a charter boat, four guys, loud music, not to our taste. At one point, they waved, and I waved, and hollered, it's a bit loud!, and lo, one of them went below and turned the music off. So civilized. I am reminded of the musical evenings in Dominica that go on until 6am, shaking your ribcage the whole while. But then, I'm reminded of Dominica's other charms, and I'm over it.

We're in Coral Bay, anchored. Last week we hiked over to Coral Bay from Leinster Bay. Lovely walk, the first bit of it, then it got seriously vertical going up over the hill, then on the other side, we were doing the little old lady steps as we tried not to skid down the gravelly hill on the other side. Treated ourselves to beer and burgers at Skinny Legs Bar and Grill (no discount for having skinny legs, I asked), and took the bus back. Which was nice, except that the bus only goes so far (but only costs a buck), and we still had to walk down a steep and long hill, about another 2 miles, to get to Leinster Bay and the boat. There was a smoothie shack at the top of the hill, so we figured a fruit smoothie would be an energy booster for the rest of the walk. Then the fella said, "would you like RUM in that?" Of course we would like rum in that.

Still, when we got back to the boat, our butts were draggin. And the next day, after all that vertical hiking, up and down, our butts were groaning. Took another two days before we could move without making those grunt/oof/oww noises.

Then, off we go hiking again. Brown's Bay, and some interesting ruins (see photos). We had to part the hanging tree roots dangling around our ears to explore, and yes, I found more shards of blue willow pottery. It's ubiquitous.

We've hiked lots of trails, mostly because for $2.95, you can buy an excellent hiking map from the National Park Office. The whole island of St. John is lousy with trails and beautiful views and ruins and beaches. We hiked from Salt Pond to Drunken Bay, and a windward beach that's populated with people fashioned out of coral rubble and coconut shells and all manner of other beach detritus. It's fabulous. We saw it through the binoculars today from the water when we motored around to Coral Bay, and it looks like there's dozens of skeletons sitting around on the rocks.

Michelle and Charlie have been wandering around in the same vicinity for the last couple of weeks, and it's been great to have people to snorkel with. Rendevous Bay was really stupendous - it's not on the list of places that the charter boats congregate, so it was just us, and wonderful live coral, and squid! first time I've ever seen squid! They line up in a perfect row and watch you. With their bums or their heads, I couldn't quite figure out. And an octopus, and lots and lots of fish. Big stuff, small stuff, garish, lurid, bizarre, beautiful. We flick through the reef fish books after and are agog at the diversity of species. No garbage, lots of life. The people here and the National Park Service are doing something right.

Also Michelle did something right yesterday when she responded fast to a weak "Help!" and rescued a blue and exhausted snorkeler who was hanging on a mooring ball. Got her into the dinghy, stabilized and reassured, and delivered her to shore safely with help from another boater. Then Charlie and Michelle came to Nancy Dawson and we gave MIchelle rum. She done good.

Yesterday in Salt Pond, I putzed around the boat with my snorkel and was kind of disappointed: sand, rocks, weeds, until I saw a ray, and then a big turtle chowing down under the boat. I waited for him to surface and swam after him like crazy and he was hugely tolerant while I took a bunch of pictures. Turtles are gorgeous. This morning in Salt Pond, we headed out to the rocks in the middle of the bay, and were batted around in the chop as we swam around an incredibly colourful collection of corals and gorgonians (soft corals). I took lots of pictures, and I'll try to load lots and a movie when we get good wifi. Wifi has been sketchy, but after all that I've just told you, it would be churlish to complain.

Weather update: no significant rain for ages. Michelle and I looked back at our boats from the beach yesterday. Mi Amante had the water catcher up, but all the hatches open. Nancy Dawson - no water catcher, but all the hatches shut. Optimists? Pessimists? Confused? We laughed, and went on our hike. It didn't rain.