A Jewel in the Caribbean Nevis, Feb 23-24, 2006

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Nevis: A beautiful little island At the ready A special place in American history The birthplace of Alexander Hamilton Similar to a photo taken in 2001 Not bad for 60 and 62 The close of another beautiful day Tomorrow we head for Montserrat One of the adventures of sailing in the Caribbean is finding fresh food, especially produce, forget fresh meat; it is all frozen. After being stuck with mushy red delicious apples, with rotten cores, in St. Martin, we had all but given up hope. While we had our rental car in St. Kitts, we went on a treasure hunt for apples. Shopping for anything in the Caribbean is a bit like a treasure hunt. The produce sections of most grocery stores are empty except for the day the delivery ship comes in. If you aren’t there shortly after a delivery, forget it. The fresh produce disappears from stores faster than milk and bread after a snow alert in Maryland. We headed for Rams, purported to be the biggest and best grocery store in St. Kitts. I wish I had taken photos. The produce department looked like the crisper drawer in someone’s refrigerator after returning from a two week vacation. It was ugly, soggy, and brown; what was there belonged on the compost pile. We had heard rumors of another grocery store in Basseterre called Value Mart, but finding it was its own adventure. We had to ask directions, but Caribbean’s don’t think spatially, and they certainly don’t use maps. When asking directions, the most common response is a blank stare, as if speaking to a boat anchor; it hears you, but it doesn’t respond. The second most common response is that the directions are too complicated to describe, this on an island twenty miles wide. The English language is not sophisticated enough to describe something as complex as directions. Forget trying to show them a map and asking them to point where it is. They can’t do it. The use of maps simply baffles them. It’s like mathematics to an English major. If they do know where something is, and they are willing to try and tell you, they can only do so by referring to known landmarks, known to them that is, but certainly not you. “It’s just across from Jennifer’s launderette, you know, the one with the goat out front.” Honestly, asking directions is almost hopeless. I would rather drive around in an organized search pattern to find something rather than ask directions. Besides, this approach leads to all kinds of serendipitous discoveries, like hardware stores, chandleries, and book stores. Well, we were persistent. We did find the Value Mart. You just had to turn right before the playing field, continue until the Fisheries Department, stay left at the “Y,” and you’ll see it just past the gas station. Street names and distances are not part of Caribbean directions. The hunt was worth it. It was as if we had discovered the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It was a real grocery store, with a real produce section, and guess what we found? We found “Fuji” Apples. As we rolled them in our hands, we gently squeezed them, relishing in their firmness. We knew we had hit pay dirt. Nothing else on our list mattered; we had found Fuji Apples. I was dying with anticipation. Once back on the boat, I picked one up, admired its beauty for a moment, then sunk my teeth into its side. It did not yield its succulent juices casually; it demanded a firm bite, and I gave it one. It knew what I wanted, and it delivered. I was not disappointed. The sweet aroma filled my senses. I took a second bite rejoicing in the firmness as juices squirted between my teeth. This was the real thing. With ten Fuji apples in our ship’s stores, we left St. Kitts and headed south for Nevis, pronounced Nee-vis. Nevis was a mere then miles to the south, but it was a new island, and a new island no mater how close, is a psychological and emotional leap. You cannot walk there or drive there, you must take a boat or a plane. Due to its isolation, every island, even if it is part of another country, develops it own culture. And though Nevis is part of the same country as St. Kitts, it has a personality distinct from St. Kitts. It is smarter and prouder than its sister island. It aims to please and puts forth a friendlier face to its visitors. This is our second visit to Nevis, and we regret that we will only be here for an afternoon and an evening. Next time we will skip St. Kitts and spend our time on Nevis. Life without news is liberating. What good does it do to hear the news anyway? There is nothing I can do about it. It just becomes a source of concern and complaint. Better that I know nothing about what is happening in the world. Without news of the outside world, the essentials of life like eating, drinking, sleeping, anchoring, and reefing sails take on a renewed importance forgotten in the rush of city life. Life becomes more focused and, in a sense, more real. I hear water lap against the side of the boat, watch a turtle poke its head above water, and a halyard flapping against the mast reminds, me that the wind is building. I don’t miss my big house or my SUV; I find my self-contained boat to be sufficient to fulfill my needs. When I hear on a TV in a bar that the winter Olympics are being held, I am confused. Isn’t it summer; no, I guess it is winter. What day is it; what season is it? It doesn’t matter in the Caribbean because all days and all seasons are the same, except perhaps the season of hurricanes. There is more temperature variation between night and day here than there is between the extremes of winter and summer. Isn’t it strange how with the flip of a switch, or a short plane ride, you can beam yourself from the go-go life in the cold north to relaxed life in the sunny Caribbean. It is better to leaves the news of the world to the city folk in the north. They know what to do with it. I have my hands full with eating, drinking, sleeping, anchoring, and reefing sails. Previous | Next