The trip that almost wasn't...

DH and I have a tradition of taking our grandchildren on a special trip when they turn 13, and our most recent trip to Anguilla was such an occasion – only for various reasons that I won’t go into here, this particular trip was delayed until DG was 15.  We wouldn’t normally plan a trip like this during October because of the weather risks but because my husband teaches, we were restricted to his schedule, so Fall Break it was.  There were a lot of things that could and did go wrong with both the planning and the execution of this trip, but in retrospect, I have few true regrets. 

For starters, we had planned to book our flights into St. Maarten and then ferry over to Anguilla, because I saw back in August a fantastic airfare for just under US $350 RT BDL-SXM.  However, at that time DG’s parents were still deciding whether or not to let us travel out of the country with her (her older sisters went to New Orleans and Vieques, Puerto Rico), and by the time we had an affirmative answer, the rates skyrocketed.  Airfares to either AXA or SXM now were a whopping $850 per person, and we despaired of getting to Anguilla at all.  I scoured all kinds of discount travel sites, but there just wasn’t a lot available.

 I finally took a look at the American Airlines Vacations website, and to my surprise, they were offering packages to Ku on Anguilla for a few dollars less per person than booking airfare alone would have been.  Now understand that first of all, I’ve never wanted to stay on Shoal Bay East before, because what constitutes as crowded for me is not what most people’s idea of crowded is. Secondly, it has also been a LONG time since we’ve stayed in a hotel for vacation; quite a few years and islands ago, as a matter of fact.  But the price was right and it met our few, albeit strict, requirements: it had kitchen facilities, a/c in the bedrooms, and most importantly, it was located in Anguilla!  Yes, I read the increasingly spotty reviews on Trip Advisor, but they didn’t phase me (much).  After all, this was our fourth trip to Anguilla in two years –- DH and I had a pretty good idea of what to expect.  So with eyes wide open, I booked the trip to Ku with the full knowledge that it wouldn’t have been my first choice had circumstances been otherwise but determined nonetheless to have a fine vacation.  I also booked travel insurance, just to be on the safe side, and joked that I was looking forward to our trip to “Hurricane Central.” Turns out, that wasn’t far off the mark. 

We departed BDL early on Thursday morning, 7 October, arriving in SJU about 30 minutes late because of a minor mechanical problem.  I alone among my travel companions knew that the SJU-AXA flight had been canceled a few days that week (including the day before) because of bad weather, so when we checked the monitors at 12:30 pm to see that the 1:30 pm flight to Anguilla was listed as On Time, my relief was immense.  It was also short-lived.  As our departure crept near, we still had no airplane and no gate agent.  Eventually the monitor status changed to Canceled, but there was still no gate agent around.  I then checked across the hall to see if we could get on the flight going to SXM, but that gate agent told me she couldn’t help me, that I had to go back to the Anguilla gate and wait there for another GA. 

That was the first of several run-arounds we got from American, and with each one I grew a little more disgusted and a little more desperate.  Their first announcement about the cancellation was that it was a mechanical issue.  I knew that was bulls#it.  Then they said the Anguilla airport was closed.  When another passenger pointed out that Anguilla Air Express and LIAT were still flying to Anguilla, the answer changed to no, the airport isn’t closed, but we’re not flying due to weather.  Meanwhile, the airplane to Sint Maarten takes off and not one of us was able to get on it.  Grrrrr.

So now we’re lined up trying to get rebooked, only the earliest they tell us we can get to Anguilla is Saturday, and even that is working as a standby passenger.  That’s when a young woman named Alexis, who is petite, argumentative, and attractive in equal measure (I’m guessing trial attorney) starts demanding that American Eagle just reroute our flight to St. Maarten—it was a pretty full flight, actually, because the entire Anguillian futbol team was traveling back home.  Then we were back to the “mechanical failure” excuse—they didn’t have a plane for us that was operational.  Then Alexis demands to speak to the GA’s supervisor, to whom she makes the same demand.  Supervisor actually seems to consider it, then says she’ll go off to see if she can make it happen.  God bless Alexis. 

An hour later American announces to us all that we should reclaim any checked baggage and go directly to ticketing because yes, they have successfully rerouted our flight to SXM.  Slightly cheered, we trudge away and go to ticketing, only to be told that everyone waiting for the SXM flight should just take a seat and hold tight.  TWO HOURS LATER we’re still sitting there.  I decide to go up to the counter to see how things are progressing when the ticketing agent tells me that the new flight had been canceled about an HOUR AGO because the SXM had closed due to water on the runway.  Nope, they just hadn’t bothered making an announcement to the 40+ of us who were waiting for an answer. 

By this time we’re wondering if we should just cancel altogether.  Our trip was only for four nights anway, and now best-case scenario puts us on Anguilla for only three nights, with the most likely scenario being only two nights.  The American TA would not tell us whether the SXM flight would be rescheduled for the following morning, or for what time it might be.  When pushed, she said that we could keep calling AA every hour or so to see if the flight had been scheduled, but even if it was, they couldn’t confirm seats on it until we came back the next morning to check in.  Yeah, great, thanks. 

DH was strongly leaning towards just catching a flight back to Hartford that night.  I called AAVacations to see if they could just change our destination to another island.  Screw it, I thought.  If we can get four nights elsewhere, that wouldn’t be so bad.  That’s what airlines do when they can’t get you to your destination due to a tropical depression. Thank goodness for trip insurance, right?  Well, no, actually.  The customer service agent blithely told me that the trip insurance I purchased was only valid up until our departure.  WTF?  Despite the cancellation due to weather, and despite the airline’s not being able to rebook us on another flight to Anguilla for another two days, leaving us with one actual night spent in Anguilla before returning home, the CS kept claiming that he couldn’t do anything for me in terms of rebooking for another set of dates or to change islands.  Had we simply not boarded the plane in Hartford that morning, however, he would have happily rebooked us to another destination, for no extra charge other than paying the different in package prices.

In the meantime, an Anguillian named Junior Fleming (the Anguilla Great House Junior, not the glass bottom boat Junior,) comes up to us to introduce himself.  We get acquainted, then he gives me his cell phone number to call in case we need help getting to Anguilla from SXM, should we happen to actually get to SXM.  His kindness was a balm to our weary souls, and after he leaves, I make the executive decision to overnight in San Juan and try to recapture some of our lost vacation mojo by choosing El Convento over the dingy airport hotel.  Sure, we’d have to pay for it out of pocket; but when I called up and explained the situation to El Convento and mentioned that we were returning guests, the reservations agent quoted us a very attractive rate.

DH and DG at the rooftop wine reception at El Convento

San Juan cathedral at night-seen from our rooftop reception

DG and me at the rooftop wine reception at El Convento

It was a good choice. We arrived there just in time to toss our bags into the room and head up to the rooftop wine and cheese reception.  It was heavenly.  The rain had momentarily stopped, the plaza below was alive with the sound of music, and DG had stars in her eyes over the hotel.  I love El Convento, I love the magic of the old town in San Juan, and I was just beginning to feel that it would be okay if we didn’t actually make it to Anguilla.  We could carve out a happy enough niche for ourselves in Puerto Rico instead. 

Eight different kinds of wine--that's what I'm talkin' about!

Jellyfish neon light at AguaViva

We decided over dinner at Aqua Viva (our first disappointing visit – you can read the full review at Trip Advisor, once it’s posted) that we’d go back to the room and I would keep calling AA until we had answers.  Around midnight, I finally got a CS rep who told me that an unusually-scheduled flight of SJU-SXM was showing up for 9:00 am, but that he couldn’t actually book us on it.  Thus, for the second morning in a row, we’re up 5:30 am in anticipation of another long travel day.  If the only way for us to get booked on the flight was to show up early, then that’s what we’re prepared to do. 

A street off of Calle Fortaleza in Old San Juan

The three of us, walking back to the hotel after dinner.

I still cannot believe how badly the lines of communication at American broke down for us on this trip.  I’m not sure if the GAs and TAs were lying to us to try to appease us or were just passing along misinformation, but they really dropped the ball by not being up front about what was happening.  Mechanical failure, weather cancellation, airport closures, no crew.  Perhaps a combination of all three.  The point is that they didn’t give us the courtesy of updating us as things changed.  The fact that one TA told me point blank that the SXM flight had been canceled an hour ago but that he hadn’t told us yet really angered me.  When we checked in on Friday and asked if the SXM airport had opened back up, the TA said it was never closed.  That it was AA who canceled the SXM flight on Thursday evening because they didn’t have a crew to fly the plane, not because there was water on the runway.

This is quite verbose already and we’ve not even arrived in Anguilla yet!  More to come.  Including pictures.  I just didn't have any great shots from the airport in San Juan.  Go figure.

Yay! I placed third in a photo contest!

I just found out a few days ago that one of the photos I submitted to Caribbean Travel & Life magazine was named third place in the Beaches category!  It's the first year I actually submitted any photos, and though the photo they selected is not what I would have expected, I'm pleased as (rum) punch about it!

The photo is of a small fishing boat on Barnes Bay, Anguilla, and I took it one day this summer while walking from the beach to our rental car.  I had actually made some more interesting photographs of the fishermen themselves (with their permission), but I didn't know at the time that I'd have to have them sign a release form in order to enter those photos in the contest.  C'est la vie, I suppose. 

My friend Kristen from the Fodor's Caribbean travel forum won first place in the Nature category for a whimsical shot of a swimming iguana, and I was pleased for her, too.  Of course she won a 3-night stay at the stunning Ladera in St. Lucia, so I was a little jealous of her, too.  Which doesn't mean I'm sneezing at my own, more modest prize package, chock full o' digital camera goodies like photo editing software, a nice camera bag, a tripod, and a few other items. I can't wait for them to arrive so I can try them out!

And of course the best part of all this is that now my husband really cannot complain about pausing for all of my photo-ops -- because they just might pay off in the future.  And this prize comes just in time for me to start accumulating photos for next year's contest: we leave for Anguilla again on Thursday for a short getaway.  I think I may have found a third calling.  :)

Japanese Porn Makes the Germans Look Well-Adjusted, or What I Learned from Anthony Bourdain

Anthony Bourdain.

I received two simultaneous texts from friends this morning while I was reading in bed, both checking in to see how I was handling the news of Anthony Bourdain’s suicide, when in fact they were the ones who broke the news.  I was sad, of course, but perhaps not entirely surprised.  Is anybody truly surprised when larger-than-life personalities who haven’t been shy about broadcasting their demons commits suicide?

I had the pleasure of meeting Anthony Bourdain and spending about an hour in his company, back in the days of his No Reservations show, which I adored.   Since meeting him, I’ve tried to adapt his outlook on travel, and it’s no exaggeration to say he’s had more influence in how I comport myself when in another country than anybody else. Tonight when I get home from work, I will raise a glass to the man who broadened the horizons of the readers and viewers who were lucky enough to have him for an armchair traveling companion. Until then, here’s a resurrected blog post from many years ago.

Last night, some fellow booksellers, my buddy Liz,  and I were working at the Anthony Bourdain event in Springfield, MA.  We'd been invited by the folks at Symphony Hall to sell his books before, during, and after his event, as well as at the VIP reception immediately following his presentation.  As a reward, we, in turn, got to attend the event for free, meet Mr. Bourdain, and get our own books signed.

What did I learn from Tony?  Other than he's taller in person (6'4") and just as irreverent as his television persona?  Well, for starters, I learned that Japanese porn is apparently very disturbing (it "makes the Germans look well-adjusted").  But that's neither here nor there.  He's still angry with his usual targets: the Food Network. Celebrity cooks who have laid claim to the un-earned title of "chef." The dumbing down of the American palate, courtesy of chain restaurants that have muddled simple, traditional cuisines beyond all recognition: Chili's. Applebee's. Macaroni Grill. ( Or in the words of Tony himself: "The Olive Garden--sure, it sounds Italian.  So does 'chlamydia.' Don't be fooled. It's not Italian, and it's not good.")

He's still not too happy with Alice Waters, either.  Or with the King, the Clown, and the Colonel.  Bourdain is neither burdened by politesse nor inclined to mince words.  But just because he's playing to an audience for shock value doesn't mean that it's not riotously funny and thought-provoking by turn.  I missed a good 30 minutes or so of his presentation because our staff members were rotating in and out of the auditorium to keep watch over our bookselling tables, but I did get to hear his rules for travel, and I have to say, I couldn't agree more.

1. Be curious.
2. Be polite.
3. Be grateful.
4. Observe local custom.
5. Dress appropriately (Tony's reaction to underclad tourists on a trip to Istanbul: "Presumably you wouldn't wear a Speedo to the Vatican. So why the hell would you wear booty shorts where half your ass hangs out to the Blue Mosque?").
6. Eat everything.
7. Drink everything.

Hear, hear, say I.

I received a comp copy of his new book, Medium Raw, last week (thanks, HarperCollins!)--just in time to get it read for last night's event.  Much of his show is derived from the book, and in turn the tone of the book is as conversational as his show.  Occasionally Bourdain shows a brilliant turn of phrase, but most of the time it just feels like he's talking to the reader without much forethought, but what he lacks stylistically he makes up for with his colorful language.  Though I grew weary with his macho, sexually charged metaphors and I zoned out a bit during the long chapters about chefs I've never heard of, I found the book to be engaging, for the most part.

If my worldview and Bourdain's worldview were depicted as a Venn diagram, the intersection of our circles wouldn't be particularly large, but it would showcase some of the areas in which I am most passionate, and growing more so by the year--food, travel, and the way I want to comport myself on this planet.

Where A=As the Crowe Flies (and Reads!) and B = Bourdain

Check out this guest blog that Bourdain did a few years ago.  It pretty much sums up the extent of his snark.

A new novel for those who love classical music and historical fiction

Richard Harvell's The Bells, one of the more interesting books I read on vacation this year, was just released this week by Crown Publishing.  Born to a deaf mother amidst the peals of the loudest bells in 18th-century Christendom, Moses Froben is a boy whose extraordinary sense of hearing is matched only by the altitudinous beauty of his soprano voice.  Dark events in his young life lead him to seek sanctuary at the Abbey of St. Gall, where even darker events lead to the forced castration that will preserve his exquisite voice and rend him asunder from his true love.  (Or will it?) All musical roads eventually lead to Vienna, and there he finds solace with friends old and new in this fascinating retelling of the Orpheus and Eurydice myth.  An impressive debut that will delight historical fiction and classical music fans alike!

Seven with one blow: my life as Jack, the Giant-Killer; or why fanfiction is sometimes better than "real" fiction

Textbook rush is over, which means I now have energy left at the end of the work day to read, and I've been playing catch-up with a vengeance.  Although it's one book shy of friend and former co-worker Emily RM's legendary blogpost, I'm proud to say that I'm concurrently reading seven different books right now--killing seven in one blow, in a way.  One of them is already available (Anthony Bourdain's Medium Raw).  Five of them are forthcoming later in the publishing season (from Harper, Random House, Simon & Schuster, and Algonquin).  And one of them hasn't been "published" at all.  It's a novel-length work of fanction, Harry Potter fanfiction, to be precise.  I'm at least 75 pages into each of the "real" books and feeling various levels of compulsion to finish them, but not a single one can hold a candle to the draw that the fanfiction has on me--a work, I should point out, that I have read several times already, including once already this year.

So why does the fanfiction keep me coming back for more, when there are so many other titles on my roster?  For starters, Roman Holiday, written by a woman known simply as Anna, is a master of the genre, starring Hermione Granger as one tough, smart, sexy Gryffindor who isn't ashamed to flaunt her Slytherin side.  Anna is a very good writer, and unlike most serial fanfiction of its length, this novel is so well-edited that you don't want to pare it down 100 pages or so when reading it one sitting.  Her blend of humor, romance, angst, action,  adventure, and everyday life makes for superb pacing.  And did I mention the sexy talk?  Anna's not afraid to be graphic, though that's not where the power of her eroticism lies.  No, that power is grounded in the strength of the writing itself, with metaphoric language that is at once arresting in its originality and perfect in its aptness. 

Anna also preseves the nitty-gritty kernels of character that J. K. Rowling created, and though she frequently takes them places the creator would not approve, she rarely takes them out of character.  Hermione's ruthlessness and Draco's insecurity are grounded in canon, as is Severus's bitter sense of humor.  (Although, to be honest, once you remove the Harry Filter, you could arguably do just about anything with most of the HP characters and make a case for yourself, since the boy was just so bloomin' unobservant.)  And though there aren't any important original characters in Roman Holiday, Anna ups the ante by re-interpreting Salazar Slytherin in a way that's reminiscent of the treatment of Judas Iscariot in Jesus Christ, Superstar (or the gnostic gospels, if you're inclined to take it that far).

You can find Roman Holiday, as well as some of Anna's other works, at www.witchfics.org.  It's the first part of a trilogy that is, and will likely remain, incomplete.  The completed middle work, also novel-length, is called Jewel of the Nile, where Hermione leaves Hogwarts a year early to pursue independent research in Cairo.  While it is still better than 99% of the fanfiction out there, it feels just a little bit too otherworldly for my personal taste.  However, she does introduce some interesting original characters as well as put a new spin on old ones, namely Professor Trelawney and Gabrielle Delacour.  Last Tango in Paris, part trois, stops a little past the half-way mark, and the fanfiction world is all the more bereft for it.

If you like Harry Potter fanfiction at all, you should really read Anna's work.  She's one of my two favorite fanfic writers and, of the two, the only one whose work is still available to read online (Sara Rees Brennan is the other one, and when she published her first for-profit novel last year, she pulled all of her online work).  Her writing is literary, insightful, inventive, and full of lemony goodness, not to mention plot devices that are so far superior to most of Rowling's that before long, you'll be re-arranging your memories of the Harry Potter series to incorporate Anna's visions. 

Be warned: HG/DM, HG/SS (and one more HG pairing that would give too much away if I included it here), eventual character death.  Harry, Ginny, and Ron are secondary characters, albeit good ones, and everybody else pretty much plays second fiddle to Hermione. 

Found this image here

Let's go to the hop, oh, baby!

So I was putting off going to sleep last night, going for one last stroll through the various blogs and travel forums that I follow, when I got a very big, very pleasant surprise:  Rebecca Fabian, author of the incomparable Afterthoughts blogs, had mentioned my blog as part of the third book blogger hop she participated in.  Rebecca is what you might call a mover and shaker in the children's book world--she's bright, knowledgable, hard-working, and her star is definitely on the rise.  We used to work together at the Odyssey Bookshop, where she was the manager of the children's department and I was (and still am) the assistant manager and one of the buyers.  Now she's working as a children's editorial intern at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, and in between her full time internship, her work-for-house-and-board arrangement, and her reading, she still manages to find time to keep up her blogs and her book reviews.  She's either borrowed a time turner from that insufferable, know-it-all Gryffindor or she's learned to bend the fourth dimension to her will in other ways.  Thus it was that I was absurdly (and probably disproportionately) pleased for her to mention me.

Though I started my book & travel blog in January 2009, it's only been for the last few months that I've updated it with anything like regularity.  Mostly because I've discovered that I enjoy doing it, as opposed to merely feeling like I ought to be doing it.  It also helped that at least one person who wasn't related to me or who didn't work for me or who hasn't ever been my roommate finally started following it this summer.  It was about two weeks ago that I discoverd the "Stats" tab on the Blogger dashboard, and ever since I've been a tad bit obsessed with discovering who in the world might be reading my blog.  Apparently I'm all the rage in Latvia, Ukraine, and Russia.  That is, if you interpret "all the rage" rather loosely to mean that more than a dozen people a week in those countries are reading it.  Or perhaps the same person, a dozen times.  I'm not sure.  Still, it thrilled me more than I should probably admit that somebody, somewhere, was actually reading my blog.  I mean, come on.  Latvia!

But I digress...my original point was to talk about the Book Blogger Hop, taking place this weekend, which you can read about here. It's like the cool clam bake for book bloggers, where you can meet & greet and find other like-minded book people to read & follow. 

According to the rules, in order to include yourself on the Book Blogger Hop, you must also post about it in your own blog as well as give a list of some of your favorite book blogs.  I already listed Rebecca's above, but I don't follow too many others, and those I do already are well known: Bookdwarf, for one.  The one from Algonquin publishing, for another. So go to the Hop.  Socks optional.  Towel required, especially on Thursdays (not to be confused with Thursday Next).

Bored on Virgin Gorda? Not us!

L-R: DG, DH, and me

 Nevis. Bequia. Virgin Gorda. Anguilla.  I'm frequently surprised by the number of people who wonder why we're not bored on our favorite islands.  No casinos?  No large scale all-inclusives with nightly entertainment? No duty-free shopping?  No booze cruises?  What can we possibly do with all of that time on our hands?  Well, here's what we did in Virgin Gorda, and we barely scratched the surface:

On one of the days we visited Spring Bay, we had the pleasure of watching several local youngsters climbing one of the boulders and jumping into the water.  We took a few photos, and the next day when we came back the granddaughter and I decided to jump into the water ourselves.  DH took a few shots of each of us and we had a lot of fun!

Same rock formation as above, but I shot this one from the water.

Bonsai!

Here we are, ready to give it a shot ourselves!

Success!

One day we went to the Baths because seeing them on a daytrip from Tortola in 2005 was what made us choose VG for this trip.  It was late afternoon on a Sunday and the place was really crowded, which was a turnoff for us.  What’s more, we had to pay $3 per person (admittedly not a big deal) for the privilege of setting up our beach chairs there, when we had a lovelier setting at Spring Bay that was free of charge.  The snorkeling was disappointing compared to Spring Bay, too, so the best thing about our afternoon at the Baths was doing the crawl through to Devil’s Bay, which we hadn’t done on our daytrip in 2005.  That really was a lot of fun, I must admit, and we got some fun pictures there, too.  In the future we’ll probably skip the Baths or just come really early or much later in the day, or just go all the way down to Devil’s Bay instead, which was much less crowded.

This is the beautiful, iconic, primodial-womb-like entrance to "the Crawl"

One of the many staircases along the way.  You also have to duck, balance, climb, and crawl your way through to get to the end.

 After driving around the island, we stopped off at Savannah Bay one afternoon on our way back to the villa.  This is a really gorgeous stretch of sand and from the looks of it would have pretty good snorkeling just off shore.  The beach was nearly always deserted every time we drove by.  There are a few thatched umbrellas on the beach there, but they are not very strategically located—they’re so backed up against the sea grapes and shrubbery that by afternoon there would be no room on the sand in the shaded parts.  I would recommend this beach in the morning.

Beautiful, deserted Savannah Bay.  I'll have to spend more time here in the future!

 We drove out to the abandoned copper mine twice, once close to sunset and once in mid morning so that we could shoot it in two different lights.  We were fascinated to wander through the ruins and watch the surf pound below us.  I’d definitely recommend this place as a pit stop when you’re already down near the southern end of the island.  We spent around 30 minutes there, but you wouldn’t have to linger as long as we did.

Copper Mine, in the gloaming

Copper Mine in midday

The pounding surf was beautiful here and quite loud, too!

Sometimes we just stopped to watch the world go by.  Or paused to eat ice cream.  Or make a new friend.  From tiny little take-aways that dot the main road to full-on formal resort dining, Virgin Gorda has you covered.  One place in particular won us over, though.  It's called the Flying Iguana and it's located smack-dab next to the itty-bitty airport.  Puck is the man who runs it, and we had a great time visiting with him over the course of our various meals there.  He introduced us to his two parrots, who always kept us entertained.

The Flying Iguana, seen from its parking lot.  Doesn't look like much from the outside, but just wait...

View from the Flying Iguana, across the runway to the water.  Isn't that water gorgeous?

Watching the world go by, one small aircraft at a time.

Puck's two parrots at Flying Iguana

Ice cream always tastes best in casual places like this!

Hiking – on Sunday morning, granddaughter and I got an early start around 6:30 am and hiked up Gorda Peak.  There’s a little dirt road you turn off of the North Sound road where there’s a car park and a sign that indicates the hike to the top is about 50 minutes.  We’d had a pretty heavy rain the night before and the trail was wet in places, and in fact there was a light, lingering rain for the first 10 minutes or so we were walking.  I’m not in especially good shape, but I didn’t find the trail particularly challenging.  The hardest part was negotiating the slippery rocks on the way down.  Unfortunately the sky was still really overcast when we got to the top, so we didn’t see the jaw-dropping views everyone mentions, but it was still lovely.  We rested there and took photographs for about 20 minutes before heading back down.

Hazy view of the BVI seen from Gorda Peak

View looking south over the island from the turn-off to Gorda Peak

Pausing for our breath and a quick photo op on Gorda Peak

Bored in Virgin Gorda?  Why, no, we weren't, thanks for asking!  Hiking, swimming, snorkeling, exploring, making new friends, all tempered with large doses of snacking, reading, and eating, kept us feelin' groovy for our entire trip.  And now I'm missing it like crazy--maybe I can somehow plan a return trip in 2011...

This shot was taken on our villa balcony.  I think it pretty much speaks for itself.

Snorkeling around the Fat Virgin

Virgin Gorda trip report, continued...

One of the many reasons I love traveling to the Caribbean is my love of snorkeling.  And on the trips that I've taken with DG, we have snorkeled up a storm--my estimate is that we swim/snorkel more than a mile each day on vacation together.  Despite the heavy bleaching of the corals found in the Caribbean and elsewhere (thank you, Global Warming!), the snorkeling we did on this trip is the best we've encountered so far. 

Our first full day on the island we went on a daytrip with Double D Charters on their motor yacht for $95 per person, plus tip.  This was an excellent trip with four snorkeling stops: Peter Island, Norman Island, the Indians, and the wreck of the RMS Rhone.  Our captain for this trip was Corinne, and she was terrific—skilled, engaging, and informative.  Big kudos to her for making the trip even more enjoyable. Peter Island was mezzo-mezzo in terms of coral and fish, but Norman Island and the Indians were excellent, in my opinion.  It was extremely cool to be able to swim in and out of the caves at Norman Island, and we could have spent a good bit more time in the water than our allotted 45 minutes.

The Caves

Close up shot of anemones on wall in one of the caves

Inside one of the caves

The Indians were amazing, especially when rounding the far end where there was a huge explosion of color and fish.  We could have spent more time there, too. 

The Indians, seen from the boat

One of the colorful areas of The Indians

The wreck of the Rhone was a bit more interesting in theory than in practice.  It was submerged in 25 feet of water and there weren’t a ton of fish there that day.  It was still pretty neat, but it was the only snorkeling spot that day where I felt that I had time to see everything in the 30 minutes we had there. 

Looking down into a smokestack (?) on the wreck of the RMS Rhone

The snorkeling at Mahoe Bay was also pretty good in my opinion.  While there was significant bleaching of the coral, the sea fans looked healthy and there were fish everywhere.  There were also very interesting pinnacle-like coral formations, some of which came within a few inches of breaking the surface.  We snorkeled there for a total of about 4 hours over different days and still didn’t feel like we exhausted everything to see. 

One of the pinnacles off of Mahoe Bay

Healthy sea fan at Mahoe

Our favorite snorkeling was the coastline running south from Big Trunk Bay to the more southerly of the Spring Bay beaches.  We also had the water and beaches mostly to ourselves, which was divine.  We snorkeled with sea turtles and saw the largest fish I’ve ever been in the water with—a huge barracuda that was about four feet long (NB: I have, since the trip to VG, swum with larger fish, namely tarpon, but in 2007 that barracuda was a personal best).  The water clarity was excellent and the colors of the sealife were vibrant—partly because we had less overcast weather on the days we were at Spring Bay.

The coast of VG is dotted with these boulder-strewn grottoes.
The sundappled effect on the snorkeling is magical.

Brain coral near Spring Bay

A school of Blue Tang near Spring Bay

A barracuda --believe me--it looked bigger in person!

Some healthy sponges at Spring Bay

Elkhorn (staghorn?) coral at Spring Bay

Riding home on the Double D: DG (left) and me (right)

To be continued...

(NB: photo credits belong to Emily Crowe, Emmaline Martin, or Barry Moser)