Trip Reports - How I Spent My Winter Vacation: SEA-IAH-SJU-EIS & back plus boats and carousing




alanw
Sep 29, 02, 12:07 am
I’ve been writing this report in fits and starts since the flight home nearly nine months ago. At last, I think it’s ready to post. It’s long, rambles a bit, and contains a whole lot of stuff like yachts, debauchery, and sunburn that has nothing specific to do with flying. But it all happened on my trip, so I’m including it. If it turns out that this type of report isn’t interesting to other FTers, I’ll stick to the Menus And Lounge Furnishings Formula after this.

About a year ago, my good friend Frank, who moved to Boston from Seattle (and has since returned to his senses and moved back), and I decided that we needed a winter trip to someplace warm and beautiful. And not too touristy. We hate tourists. Last time, it was two weeks in Belize. When we lived in Seattle, he and I would flee to southern California for the weekend once a month or so to escape the endless rain of our beloved Emerald City. Being sailors, a cruising trip to the Caribbean sounded like the perfect thing.

After much hemming, hawing, switching dates, switching significant others, and wondering how we would pay for it all, we settled on ten days in the BVI, island-hopping on a nice bareboat yacht.

We have a close-knit group of friends with a long history of having fun and getting into trouble, and we attempted to include as many as our boat would hold (eight total). We got two more, a stray girlfriend, and some friend-of-friend types, and wound up with a party of six.

January 5 was the day the adventure began. My travel agent found me a cheap fare on CO to SJU, with a ride in an AA puddle-jumper to EIS where we were to meet and collect our yacht (note that this is the last time I will type that word without quotation marks around it).


January 5, 2002
CO764 SEA-IAH
Seat 2C


I got to Sea-Tac my typical 30 minutes before our scheduled departure, dumped the car with the valet and ran full-speed to the terminal at 5:45AM. I had decided to carry-on this trip, and had everything crammed into an enormous dayglo-yellow North Face duffel. Walked right through security and up to the gate just as pre-boarding began. This was my first flight on CO, and I must say I was impressed. This plane was much nicer than most of the NW and AS stuff I usually fly. Leather seats! IFE! On a domestic flight! Who knew? I was definitely dressed for vacation, but didn’t detect any disapproval from either the FAs or the other passengers in F.

Nobody next to me to IAH, and the flight was uneventful. Got OJ before takeoff and an offer of free headphones for the IFE. Since I was sporting a brand new set of Bose NC headphones from Christmas, I declined.

As soon as we were in the air, the FA came by to take drink orders. I never drink on flights, but considering the way my next ten days were doing to go, I decided to make an exception. I had three bloody marys in rapid succession.

I have no recollection of the rest of the flight except for having something for breakfast.


January 5, 2002
CO1212 IAH-SJU
Seat 2C


I’m sure we landed more or less on time in IAH, because I managed to make my next flight. It went much the same as the first, only I switched to Gin and Tonics. This time it was a 737, but still nicely appointed with leather seats and (it seems) slightly more room than NW has in F. Again, friendly cabin crew, and nice passengers. Several of us were headed for various VIs, and spirits in the F cabin were definitely high in more way than one.

Dinner was served, but I passed. The guy next to me had some kind of steak that looked…brown. He ate it all.

We landed right on time in SJU and I was the second one off the plane. I had about an hour before my flight to Tortola, so I decided to head for the gate.

This is where things got ugly. Somehow I managed to miss the long passage from the CO gates to the hot, smelly, crowded hellhole that is the AE gates on the lower level of SJU. The first thing I knew, I was standing outside, in front of the airport on the upper level. I started looking for a way back in, but the doors I could find were locked. Here it was 9:15 at night, and I’m three sheets to the wind lugging my huge duffel and a briefcase with laptop and projector (more on that later) around in circles outside an airport I’ve never been to before trying to catch a flight that leaves in 45 minutes. And I can’t get back inside. I walked almost the entire length of the airport in the grass, turned around and came back. By this time, a door had mysteriously appeared where I swear there was none before.



January 5, 2002
AE5154 SJU-EIS
Seat 5A


I went back through security after a five minute wait and found the departure lounge for my flight to Tortola. So far, the day had been pretty pleasant. SEA and IAH are both nice enough airports, the planes were nice, the service good, and the other passengers were friendly and in good humor. None of that was to be on AE5154.

The departure lounge for the inter-island flights from SJU is a smallish room with many gates serviced by a couple of doors that lead to busses. This room was crammed beyond capacity, with throngs of people and no air conditioning. Somehow I was the only person who missed the announcement that it was “Bring Your Ill-Tempered Screaming Child To The Airport Day”. Not just screaming, but running, fighting, crying, smearing food all over the place. And there were several delayed flights stacked up before ours so it didn’t look like we were going anywhere anytime soon.

None of this mattered, because I was on my way to a carefree week-and-a-half in a sun-soaked island paradise! What did matter is that I had begun to sober up, and that just would not do. I went off and found a bar, returning about 45 minutes later. As luck would have it, my bus had started boarding and I was able to walk right on with no wait at all.

The flight itself was the best kind in an ATR: short. We landed 35 minutes after we took off, an hour and a half late.

The EIS terminal was—how do they say it in the real estate ads? – charming. Pretty much like any other institutional building from the 50’s in that part of the world, but very dilapidated and dirty. Evidently there is a very nice new terminal that is perpetually under construction and may open soon. I filed through the “non-belongers” line at immigration and got my stamp. While I was waiting, one of the fore-mentioned demon-spawn was entertaining himself by running up and down the moving (but empty) luggage conveyor while mumsy and dad looked on disinterestedly.

My friends, who came from the East coast, Europe, or elsewhere in the Caribbean had arrived much earlier and agreed to collect me at the airport. I was only a little surprised when none were there. I decided to have a five-dollar Red Stripe and wait for them to show. After maybe 30 minutes, a man approached asking if I was Mr. Alan. It turns out they had sent a cab for me, and he had been waiting for almost two hours. I guess he didn’t think of a sign or anything.

We negotiated $30 to take me to Trade Winds, where my friends and vessel were waiting.

More to follow shortly. Next installment: eight days of paradise.


-alan in seattle


alanw
Sep 29, 02, 4:00 am
Please note this section of my trip report does not talk about flying. It does talk about boats, drinking too much, and some bodily functions. Please skip to the next post if you don't wish to read about these things.



January 6-14, 2002
British Virgin Islands
Aboard The Abrazo


After the cab discharged me at Tradewinds Yacht Club, I started yelling Frank’s name at the top of my lungs, hoping he would turn up. Sure enough, he emerged from below a nice-looking 40-foot catamaran. Once the hellos were over, he broke the bad news. Our boat was late coming back from another charter. We’d have to stay here until the following afternoon, and they were going to let us sleep on the current boat for the evening. I didn’t understand why we couldn’t just take this boat and let whoever had signed up for it have ours tomorrow. I soon would.

The rest of the gang was up in the bar, and it was lucky I had been training all day because they were all in full form. Music was blaring, we were daring each other to Jaegermeister shots, and my friend Mike had managed to get behind the bar where he was standing behind the plastered, cute blond bartender grinding away while she tried to pour drinks. Until he realized that the crusty old sea-captain type sitting at the bar was her husband. That sort of completed the evening and we all turned in around, oh I dunno…4AM?

The next morning, our “yacht” returned, belching and sputtering. Evidently, Frank had negotiated quite a low price on our charter, and so they had reserved a very special boat for us: The Abrazo, from Poverty Flats, Idaho. She was a 38-foot cat made by some company I have never heard of before who only built cats for a single year. I believe they went back to manufacturing screen doors after this. She was rough looking, battered to hell, and stank like raw sewage. We were assured that would be taken care of once they had a chance to clean and service her. We hung around in the bar, sipping more than drinking because everyone had a very nasty hangover.

Day 1: Getting My Sea Legs

Three hours later, we were underway, headed for our first destination Norman Island. Three hours and ten minutes later, I got seasick and managed a spectacular Technicolor yawn over the stern before moving to the head to finish up. It was there I discovered the source of the horrible smell from before. The hose connecting the head to the pump wasn’t fastened and as soon as pressure was applied it would fly out and spray the entire area with…matter. Nice. Pretty soon we reached Norman Island and grabbed a mooring ball in The Bight, near the William Thornton. We hung out for a while and did a little snorkeling and swimming in the gorgeous clear water. This seemed to be just what the doctor ordered, and before long we were up to our old, gin-soaked tricks. Someone had brought along a CD by Me First and the Gimme Gimmes, a wonderful album of 70’s covers by a punk band collaboration. We decided their cover of “One Tin Soldier” was to be the official song of the trip and played it over and over.

After a brief stop at Billy Bones for a few Pirate’s Punches, we took the dinghy over to Willie T’s. This is an old boat moored in The Bight, notorious for strong drinks, naked people, and general debauchery. I had heard a rumor that if you jump off the roof naked and swim back aboard, you got a T-shirt. It was only after doing so that I realized the rule applied to women. Oh, well. We live, we learn. Nobody seemed to mind. The bartenders, Alan and BJ, were from Canada and genuinely great guys. One of our crew had brought along the Gimme Gimmes CD and we bribed them into putting it on in place of the corporate radio fodder they had been blaring all night. It was a big hit, and if anyone had told me the day before that I would spend the evening slamdancing with a bunch of middle-aged, Izod-shirted yachties, I would have laughed. Before the night was over our crew left me in Alan and BJ’s care, we had closed down Willie T’s, moved back to Billy Bones and closed it down, then moved back to Willie T’s and reopened for another couple hours of fun. And I did wind up with a T-shirt.

The sound of the engines taking us out of The Bight woke me the next morning, and I arose and drank 4 Gatorades from our stash. I used to be able to do this kind of stuff every night in college. Ugh.

Day 2: Paradise

We pretty much all decided to take it easy today and enjoyed a beautiful, sunny, perfect day on the water with a nice 8kt sail to Jost Van Dyke. When people think of “tropical island paradise”, this is what’s in their mind’s eye.

We anchored in Great Harbour, took the dinghy to White Bay and swam ashore to lay on the perfect, white sand beach under the palm trees, drink painkillers at the Soggy Dollar bar (so named because you must swim to get to it), and just enjoy nature giving 110%.

That night we dined aboard:


Apertif: Aristocrat Gin served with your choice of Gatorade colours

To Begin: Cheez-its enhanced with a delicate blend of salt and BHT

Main Course: Grilled Ground Beef sandwich with Spanish onions, yellow mustard sauce, and spiced tomato puree Sauteed potatoes accented with traditional seasoning

Dessert: International Cheese selection EL Fudge cookies


After the meal, we hung a bedsheet from one of the bimini rails and fired up my laptop and the LCD projector from my briefcase to watch about 3 hours’ worth of Jackass episodes Frank had downloaded from somewhere. Who knew farts, vomit, and nut-smacking could be so funny?

We turned in early, and I decided to sleep under the stars on the trampoline. This didn’t last long because it got too cold but it was stunning while it did.

Day 3-8: More of the Same
I just cannot say enough about the beauty of these islands. During the week, our journeys would take us to:
Norman Island Peter Island Jost Van Dyke Virgin Gorda Marina Caye Anegada

And each was stunningly beautiful. White sand beaches, palm trees, crystal clear water you can see through to the bottom, and almost completely unspoiled. My favorite for sheer beauty was Jost Van Dyke, but they all rate.

High points of our last five days included:
A great dinner at Pusser’s near the Bitter End Yacht Club Drinks and dancing at Saba Rock (though the crowd was a bit too obviously blue-blooded for me) Swimming next to a friendly (I guess) small barracuda near Salt Island Snagging a lobster pot with one of our props while under sail and Michael having to dive in and cut the rope with a knife in his mouth, pirate-style. Once freed, the boat took off like a shot dragging Michael—but not his shorts—behind us a good ways. Meeting the BVI’s tourism minister at a neighborhood barbeque we happened upon in Spanish Town, Virgin Gorda. What a nice guy. He loves Seattle, and told me he always stays at the Westin when he’s here because he admires the nerve of them to put up a hotel that ugly. I recommended a couple of restaurants for next time he’s in town (El Camino and Mae Phim in case you’re wondering). Meeting scads of wonderful, friendly people.

Day 9: A Harrowing Return
Myself and one of our other crew had an 8AM flight the following morning, so we decided to pick up a mooring in Marina Caye, just across from EIS. Three of us would take the dinghy to shore in the morning, with the flyers walking to the airport and the remaining person taking the dinghy back to the boat which they would return to Tradewinds later in the day before catching their own flights.

It was a rough night, with lots of wind and our mooring not that well protected so the boat rocked and pitched all night long. The alarm woke us from a fitful sleep at 4AM and we loaded our luggage into the dinghy in the pitch black night with the aid of a small flashlight.

We couldn’t really see the lights of the airport, which I thought was odd. It seemed like they were clearer before we went to bed. It was about 3km away, and I just figured they turned off some of the lights late at night.

It wasn’t until we were out of the bay that I realized what was really going on. The waves were blocking our view. The three of us were soaked to the bone, clinging together while our little rubber launch charged through 8-foot swells in the general direction of the airport. I think I was too tired (and maybe still drunk) to be as scared as I should have been, but found out after we made it safely across that my dinghy-mates were terrified. One of them was sobbing and shaking as I helped her up on the dock.

We begged our last crewmate to wait for sunrise to cross back, and he assured us he would. Turns out he didn’t, but made it safely nonetheless.

We picked up our luggage and started the longish walk across the airfield to the EIS terminal, leaving our shipmates behind.

Up Next: Chickens in the Airport and the Trip Home

-alan in seattle



[This message has been edited by alanw (edited 09-29-2002).]



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