The Derelict Faire

The most important thing to remember about St Croix is that more than any other island I've been, it’s a different world. Many guests complained about the island. “there wasn’t enough to do.” “Not enough shops.” These are all the "common type" thoughts. They are what separate the few and the masses. St. Croix is unique. It has a palpable feeling, a culture different from any other place, and for that I love it to pieces…to death…to eternity.

It’s the largest of the U.S. Virgin Islands, and so it goes, there are more stories to tell in its hidden corners, the annals, which I believe has far more than meets the eye. I’ve always known of St. Croix under odd circumstances. There was a small pond in my back yard that I put in while I was in middle school. I love the water, you see, and it took a lot of convincing to finally let my parents give in to putting in a pond. We still had it to this day and it was beautiful. It was only a hundred gallons shell, but the style of the pond, prefabricated, was called St. Croix, and so I always associated our little pond with that island. I love geography, and have always studied maps of the Caribbean, but that’s a different story. Regardless, I was really looking forward to finally coming to terms with the reality of St. Croix. Luckily, we had a long day in port there, so Madeline and I planned to have quite the day.

Getting off the ship took a little bit of extra time. I’m always forgetting things and so is Madeline, and we just had to go back a few times. We got off the ship with some friends so we decided to take some pictures on the dock. They’re pretty standard. Getting closer to land, we came upon some very frightening creatures. They were decorated men on stilts called “hooters” and they are the things of nightmares. It was the perfect way to start an adventure on a new world.

Moving forward we discovered an abandoned carnival. The wind was strong, brightening the colors of the place, highlighting the eerie emptiness of the whole mess. There were no Diamonds International, or Emeralds Express, or Tanzanite Outlets. There was only old town. There were only settled folk. There was only real life, different from the fantasy world of vacations. It was the most refreshing feeling.

We were lucky to find an island taxi that could take us to the opposite end for only 2.50. Most taxis charged $9 one way, so it was kind of a daunting deal. Were we tricking him or was he tricking us? Either way, after a 20 minute ride, we arrived in Christannsen. Taxis, I think, are one of the best ways to really feel out a land. The driver is always unique, and you zip by so quickly, its hard to process. Its like flipping through a a moving picture book. So many images that become one impression. Fantastic, but fleeting.

Christannsen had a nice old feel to it. It was fresh, clean, and old. Lots of abandoned buildings and forts. Like a giant derelict play land, a faire, so to speak. Most people turn their heads to these things, I think, but some of us find adventure in them. Madeline and I are lucky enough to have each other to enjoy similar ideals. There was an old, yellow fort on the harbor. You were supposed to buy tickets somewhere, but it really wasn’t arranged very well. We just walked in to what seemed to be an empty, staffless, building. It was well kept, but still haunting, looking out towards the sea in such a way. What I love most about these islands is all the boats you get to see. They’re everywhere, and each one, I’m sure, has it sown unique story to tell. Where its been and where its going. There are tons of smaller islands too with little houses and hotels on them, independent from the entire world. Each one a distinct life of its own. There really is so much out there. One world…one ocean…one continent…one archipelago…one island…one house…one soul, adrift at sea…and who are we? Who am I? What story do I have that’s greater than the one that came before me?

After the fort, we tried to find a nice beach to relax on. It turned into quite the hike. We walked down the street, and came upon a house being reclaimed by the jungle. Theres something all too exciting about excavating the ruins of old houses isn’t there? You start thinking of strange lives being lived…through these old, unfamiliar rooms. What ghosts still linger, and what is it they need before they disappear into the ether forever? My camera ran out of batteries there, but I did get some nice shots. The jungle had all but taken over the ruins. Moving on we came to an old gas station that had been converted to a restaurant. We found many more places like this. They all looked like they started as one thing and then morphed into another, and so on and so on until the buildings themselves become sort of forts in their own right. A central building surrounded by walls of belongings and bric-a-brac. Chickens and dogs running around like soldiers brought to alarm...lived in but loved in, each with its own personality. We walked by an ocean front road, where we saw old fishing boats being worked on and conch shells lining the street. The air smelled like the sea and the people looked at us with weary curiosity. Sometimes as a stranger you feel more at home in the land of the lost than anywhere else. Our walk to some sort of restaurant or popular area proved fruitless. It was Three Kings Day after all, and most public stores were closed. A reporter stopped us and asked what we thought of the place. We told her we both loved its charm. We assumed pseudo names so she wouldn’t print our real identities. I was Johannes and she was Adeline. We were either dating or siblings, because in Sweden, it can be hard to tell.

Completing a giant circle, we hiked back to the main square in Christannsen and decided to eat some food there before taking a cab to a neighboring bay for the rest of the afternoon. Along the boardwalk we ran into our good friend Jana! She was on a date with a comedian who was training for some sort of event called the joggleathon. Apparently you jog and juggle for like 5km. I don’t get it, but he had almost 0% body fat, which is fine. We stopped to have a lovely meal of fried tuna and buttery French shrimp sandwiches before finding our beach retreat. All the locals told us to simply take the water taxi to the nearby hotel island where you could just lay on the beach there, but that was too easy and close at hand. We decided to go a few bays over to Buccaneer Beach, where maybe things would be from a different perspective.

Adeline and I, Johannes, kept our pseudo names for the remainder of the trip. The Buccaneer Bay Beach was wonderful. We changed into our swimsuits in the nearby bushes like a couple of Bohemians while the other kept look out, and found relaxation in the calm water of St. Croix’s isolated beaches. It was our port of solace, separate from the ship, and our current realities. I think pretending to be someone else only helped our enjoyment of the afternoon. Only with this illusion could we shake the constant stress of making it back at departure time. Always coming and going, never any real time to enjoy. Its a give and take of a life. Besides swimming, ordering a couple drinks, and jumping off the pier, there wasn’t anything extraordinary about the couple hours we spent there, but it was unexpected and unpredictable, which is the key to good luck. I could not have imagined that place, and so it was that much more enjoyable. We decided that Buccaneer was a lame name, so we named the bay after our drinks, Madam Von Strolten’s rum punch. And so our afternoon had taken place at Cape Fjord Von Strolten…one of the most beautiful beaches in all of the West Indies.

On the way home, we joined forces with a family who had been stiffed by their previous taxi driver. It became evident that most of the people who cruise on Disney would not be enjoying St. Croix. Things weren’t jut perfect enough for them…and so come the complaints: “They were giving out free rum samples on the peir! Alchohol!!!” “The island is ugly.” “There’s not enough shopping!” These are the people of America. The backbone of my country. I did my best to chat with the driver to cover the uncomfortable silence in the cab. You could tell he had many stories to tell that Disney would not have been happy to hear. However, things turned sour when he stopped the car suddenly on a hill, and told us we had to wait for his son who would be meeting us here. Adeline needed to get back to the ship, and the family just stared at me dumbfounded, as if what was I, an officer, going to do? I told him we better continue to the ship, but suddenly he exited the vehicle and walked down the road. I followed him and told him we weren’t paying to wait for his son, who is “supposed” to meet him here, which was the middle of nowhere. After about 10 minutes this guy eventually showed up. He was in the U.S. military on leave and had gone to the wrong hill, apparently. He joined us on the rest of the ride and laughed when his father said that he would get us back to the ship in ten minutes. Our driver did not get a tip from anyone…except Johannes..who deep down, can understand the longing a father might have for a son…one day.

Adeline ran on board the ship while I took some time to wander the port. There was another abandoned fort there, this time red instead of yellow. I imagined a level you might find in Silent Hill at the abandoned fort. Theres a locked gate which you must find the key for in order to get access the top level and the cannons. You must shoot the cannon across the yard to find the gong, and then use the gong to ring the signal bell, which was foundered in Chicago, to my surprise. It’s a small world. I wandered to a liquor store hoping to buy some Carib, my favorite beer in the world, but it was too pricey, so I bought a drink made from Sea Moss with peanut. As I walked back to the ship and drank it, many locals pleasantly noted that I was enjoying that drink, telling me its also good with rum, and that I should enjoy it because I will need to make babies tonight. It was alright I guess, and I made plenty babies.

Back on the pier, the sun was setting and I had 30 minutes before I had to open my gallery. There was a local steel drum band playing and I sat to listen to their music for a minute. It was a wonderful sound. When the tune ended, the last song I heard was requested by a woman. If you haven’t heard Amazing Grace on steel drums, you should seek it out if you can remember. Letting the song bring back some memories I headed down the pier to my ship as the music drifted slowly away. As I got on the gangway, the song finally ended, and my wonderful day in St. Croix came to a close.

Preludes, Sessions, and Diversions

Preludes, Sessions, and Diversions

These are the names of the bars on my ship and they all sound like you are supposed to forget about them…very weak titles, but oddly endearing. Things go up and down here, like the ocean, and lately I’ve been a bit lonely. The holidays never existed as far as I’m concerned, and now we’re in a strange schedule, retrieving from these different islands across the Caribbean. The Greater Anitlles and the Lesser. The Windward Islands and the Leeward. To me, they all sound lost.

Tonight was open deck night and I didn’t really feel like drinking so I watched a movie with some friends instead…Wall-E. It was pretty enjoyable, as I always get a good kick out of some classic Science Fiction. Afterwards though, I decided to hea dup to the open deck for some fresh air and to see what was about. I’m glad I did. There was a full moon tonight, centered in the sky directly overhead, but the sky was full of clouds, which were lit brightly by the moon. It was bright and gorgeous. I find myself amazed at how I’m constantly enamored with these night skies out here. This time it made feel nostalgic for home. I have been telling myself I don’t miss the winters, and I really don’t, but the winter sky, lit by the moon and the snow really is something beautiful to miss. Obviously it wasn’t the same here in the sea off of Cuba, but for a moment I was overwhelmed with a feeling of being home again. Some pictures don’t need cameras to be captured for you, I suppose. Before I left, the clouds cleared a bit, leaving a perfect circular corona surrounding the full moon. A brilliant celestial eye staring down at me. I wonder who is watching me and I thank them for their guidance and good fortune.

I become overwhelmed when I stand out, alone looking to the endless ocean, but the sky as well. I find it’s like standing at a barrier between worlds, unreal and beyond spectacle. It crushes my sense of self, making me feel small beyond anything I’ve ever felt, and yet opens me to the freedom of being. I realize, here, when I try to find myself, I’m more lost than ever, like everything else. Is exhilarating to dare standing here into the eternity. Again, I feel more lost than ever, not knowing who I am at all. Its very emotional, touching me to the core, and I tear up a little bit, but before the drops are allowed to form, they are taken by the wind. Even in the dark, there is more light than I could ever imagine, and still, alone, I know not what I seek to understand.

As a teaser for the next adventures, I can say that St Marteen, St. Thomas and St. John were great. Many strange things occurred, and I can’t wait to share them with everyone. Its sort of like setting the teasers for the next episode…I saved a woman from a killer cactus…found love on Honeymoon Beach…had Nurse Joannie comment on how bulging my muscles were getting while performing primary grinding aboard our 12-metere regatta racing yacht…and Jaco and I met some topless ladies on the beach along the French side of the island )we BOTH got our swimsuits full of sand!)…and then the other major story breaks…Lisa left a while ago and I miss her, and the next week Jana was sent home too…two blonds on two weeks is a brave move by the producers, but I suppose they have some sort of plan for us…Lots of good things to come as well…be sure to tune in!

And to close it off…a dream:

I was walking alone along a hilly road in the woods, and I came upon an old, small cemetery. Among the headstones was a sculpture of a bear. As I approached it, it came to life. It was a small, quiet black bear and I took it into my arms where it hugged around my neck, frightened. I carried it with me into the end of my dream in order that I might set it free. I think it was a good dream to have.

Hell

Hell

Sea days are very long and hard times. It’s when we all work the hardest and when we can lose who we are the most. It pulls something out of you sometimes, and I wonder now and then if there isn’t a way to put it back. There are small reliefs here and there. There’s a nice little sandwich shop on deck 9 that I get to use where they have good wraps and smoked duck paninis, afterwards I sit on a quiet part of the deck and enojyo the beautiful ocean and sky (Very refreshing). I also rather enjoy seeing Alice in Wonderland walking about the ship. Although, my favorite versions of her story involve the darker interpretations. So I always try to talk in dark riddles to her, as well as the Red Queen.

“My dear Alice, I’m so glad you’ve wandered this way again. Now I must warn you my dear…of the Jabberwock…he wanders once more among the smithy toads and water groves, and when he finds you, as he always does, I fear his fury will put that of even the Red Queen’s to pity. Take care now, Dear Alice, take care.”

or

“All shall fall before that of the Red Queen…Oh, Crimson Mistress… fare well and Quickly, for we shan’t have any more of your cruel pleasure here.”

Although, for me, I find the best antidote to feeling grodgey is to go on a great adventure. One of these adventures came when a guest told me of a place called “Hell” on Grand Caymen. Apparently it’s some sort of geographic anomaly; a dark, barren volcanic formation. Sounds right up my alley. So one day I asked my dear friend Snow is she would like to accompany me, and as I had suspected before, she does have a much darker past than any of us ever expected. Of course she would accompany me to “Hell.”

I want to make it clear that I fully understand the risk involve with making jest and toying with grandeous themes of entire religions and human philosophy. Hell is a concept that should not be taken lightly, it is essentially an entire dimension of everything that we humans are supposed to fear..eternally. The idea of labeling a place on our world “Hell” is immediately dismissible as a foolish use of judgment, as we well know there can’t be a place in our universe that can even touch upon that of the real deal. But on the flip side, it peaks our curiosity…what must this “Hell” look like? It’s a false one, yes, but something about this place inspired one man to name it after that which we dread universally. What? Could it be one of Those places…a piece of that nightmare…of Silent Hill…of those shady groves which unsettle our nerves? Maybe there is something about it after all? I’m a sucker for the macabre.

So, after a very pleasant tender boat ride to shore, Madeline and I mused how difficult it would be to make our journey to this “Hell.” I assured her if it was meant to be, we would find our way there and back. For me, it was an ironic opportunity. I’ve been selling quite a bit of Dali’s Divine Comedy series mostly from Inferno. And as some of us know, the story of Inferno is the story of a lost poet, searching for meaning in the universe. Alone in the wood, he finds Aristotle who then guides him down through the 8 circles of Hell, and tells us of the sights he beholds. For me, this was life imitating art, in a much less epic way…but still…oh the adventures we find. Sure enough, before I could finish my cigarette a woman was able to show us to a taxi that could take us to “Hell.”

Something significant happened on the way there. Sure, Grand Cayman is pretty enough, so it was nice to see all the beaches, but when you’re journeying on a trip like this you look for the little signs, significants, to find some irony and amusement out of the whole thing. Halfway there, our cab driver pulled off the main road and stopped next to a cemetery. “See that grave there?” he asked. Of course we did. That was his parent’s grave stones. “See that spot next to them?”
Yes. That’s where he’s going to buried…and not too long…

Indeed, “Hell” was just a little tourist trap. The field was unique, different, unusual, and actually quite pretty in its ugly, stark way. The rocks looked dangerous, and it was hot. Not a place I’d like to spend eternity, but something definitely to see. It wasn’t spooky really, but there was a distinct lifelessness about it. Not a whole lot lived there…and I’m sure it’s totally different at night.

There was a little gift shop with all sorts of junk. I bought a rum cake which actually
turned out to be quite tasty.

I can’t say that “Hell” was a total disappointment, but I did expect it to be a bit bigger, and I would have liked to have walked around on it. But much like in Inferno, it is never what you expect, and anticlimactic. But that’s what gives up hope I suppose. For every spot of “Hell” on Earth, there is also eternal Paradise. This is an important thing to remind yourself. Expose yourself to the extremes, know what’s there, and in the end, we should know where we want to go. As for “Hell,” I’m never going back again.

Although one thing I know I can’t forget is that cab driver’s grave. I wonder how many people he shows that to, and how often he thinks of that himself? I wonder if he is a lonely man, and then I don’t know. What is the life of the carrion to “Hell?” Much like he who crosses the Damned in his boat across the River Styx.

Madeline and I had fun together and I’m glad to have her as a companion. Shes open to different things and one day I know I’ll get to visit her in San Francisco. I think how I’d like people I know to meet her, which is always a good sign. After “Hell” we explored the shops a bit to reset our normality. We went to the black coral gallery, but also the normal spots like the bank, and the library. Funny how these places can be more interesting than the “sights.” We enjoyed some brie and a drink before heading back to the Magic. We were almost late, but what’s in a day?

This next week I have a couple more adventures I’m really looking forward to, a Regatta sailing excursion where we race two world cup class racing yachts, a beach excursion to the nude French beaches on St. Marten, and an eco tour of St. John, a brand new island for me! These are the things to live for.

Ж۞۩₪

Next episode: “The Derelict Faire”

My Three Blonds

Oh how life goes on and how life changes on the sea, that floating shapeless ocean. I finally received my Bahamian Seaman’s Book and my Marshall Islands Maritime Registry!!! How exciting. I’m officially a seaman, according to the Bahamas. Who would have thought it? That…would be telling…

Anyways, there’s this new show I like to watch, it’s called My Three Blonds. It’s about this guy who works as the Art Gallery Director on a cruise ship. He’s young, kind of goofy, and has all sorts of misadventures. He has three different friends, all young blond babes. One is named Jana, and she’s a petite, yet fancy shopping guide on the ship. She goes around talking about charm bracelets and Diamonds (capital D). This guy and Jana love to mingle with the other officers and talk about diamonds, and usually in the ports they go shopping together and check out the biggest jewels in the Caribbean! The second blond is Lisa who is a youth counselor manager. She’s always getting thrown up on and pooped by the little ones, and has her own set of misadventures trying to manage all these kids…who are CRAZY! Then there’s Madeline, who plays a princess and walks around the ship all dressed up avoiding apples.

His roommate changes every week, and its totally ridiculous the guys he has to share a room with; a fat Panamanian, a raspy voiced Phillipino, and even a young sporty Frenchman! This guy goes off with each of the blonds separately and has wild experiences all on their own. Sometimes he gets caught up on the beach in Mexico with Lisa, sometimes Madeline and him go to Hell where the cab driver keeps taking them back to the cemetery in which he will soon be buried, and sometimes Jana needs his big muscles to carry around brochures to all the stores in the Virgin Islands. And a lot of the time they go out to the crew bar to mingle with all the babes, having all sorts of romantic interludes…separate and sometimes…J It’s all funny what happens to them, but touching too. This guy is sort of a lost soul searching for something…lost and unknown… Madeline is trying to right what might be a more troubled past than she lets on…Jana is trying to stand up for women in a man’s world and be a success… and Lisa too searches for the meaning of love in a sea of dreams…So when do I watch this show? Every day of my fucking waking life, because it’s me!!!!! I’m the guy! Hahahahahaha

Next Adventure: “Hell”