St. Croix, USVI

Sint Maarten is far enough from St. Croix to make the trip an overnight sail, so we set off on a mid-March thursday morning hoping to arrive in St. Croix with the sun the next day. We were picking up NOAA forecasts on our SSB (we could listen even though we could not transmit) and conditions sounded good for a brisk but comfortable trip. As it turned out we should have kept in mind how many times winds forecast by NOAA were lower than the winds we sailed through. That night they touched thirty knots and we spent some time hove to; conditions were rough for a while and sleep was not high on the priority list. Daylight found us sailing briskly again, and then the wind became lighter and blew from behind. It was approaching evening by the time we came past Buck Island off the north shore of St. Croix on our way to the harbour at Christiansted. Reefs and multiple channels meant that we had to pay attention on our way in until finally we found a spot to drop anchor among other boats moored and anchored off the marina there - just before darkness came.

Dates and holidays often slide by us, as we were reminded when we checked in. Since it was a Saturday, we had to call customs to announce our arrival and be given instructions. They were simple; we met the customs officer about an hour later, going in by dinghy to the gated customs compound on the far side of the marina. Customs formalities were completed quickly, and then we sat and waited for immigration officials who came as soon as they finished their work with commercial vessels in another harbour. That took an hour or so, and we passed the time chatting with the customs officer. That was when we found out that it was St. Patrick’s Day and there was a big parade in this U.S.V.I. town with its Danish and Caribbean heritage to mark the occasion, complete with floats and bands andlotsof green. Time spent waiting passed quickly; our customs officer had travelled around the islands by plane and chartered sailboat, and we swapped stories of weather and people met. Formalities were rapidly completed once the immigration officials arrived, and by noon we were checked in and back on the boat.

The St. Patrick's Day parade sounded like fun, but back at the boat food and tidying up took priority over going ashore right away. By the time we took our dinghy in to the marina and walked in past the fishermen’s beach to Christiansted the great St. Patrick’s Day Parade was just about over, though there was still a festive atmosphere and lots of green around - green clothes, green paint on bodies and faces, green hats and scarves. There were people everywhere: children were happily collecting bead necklaces given away from some of the floats; families and friends were meeting and mingling. Many of the adults had enjoyed the liquid refreshment available, and some were feeling quite relaxed... Walking through town we found a free concert outside one of the bars on the waterfront, lots of dinghies jostling for space along the pier side of the boardwalk, a large mooring field occupying the space we had originally thought about anchoring in, a convenience store with bread and cold drinks. By the time we were walking back the cleanup crews were hard at work, and streets were being restored to their normal state. Our first impression of St. Croix was that here was a rich and unexpected mixing of cultures, an outwardly quiet place leavened by a large dose of energy and creativity. Here was an American territory where cars drive on the left (or in the middle), with a Danish heritage and links to Europe as well as the continental United States and a forward-looking policy of allowing public access to the beaches and encouraging links to the sea - integral parts of any island’s culture. Efforts here include encouraging children to learn about the sea and sailing and on weekdays we watched the graceful schooner Roseway take groups of school children out, crew and children working together to raise the sails as they went down the channel and out of the harbour.

The Roseway was only one of the boats that travelled in and out. There were also small cargo ships, the almost daily ferry, dive boats taking divers out to the reefs, day-tripping catamarans and a trimaran, local fishing boats and what looked like some would-be racing power boats, some more noisy than speedy and others frighteningly unstable as their occupants worked to balance heavy, powerful engines and light hulls. There was an abundance of birds, and it was here that we first watched the Brown Boobies dive like jets into the water, wings and body one straight line streaking downward, and then emerge eating. Then there were the swimming horses. Richard spotted one on a calm day, something strange in the water between the beaches by the anchorage - it took us a while to be sure we were looking at a horse. A few days later we saw others. When we met a beautiful little mare and her handler on the road one day we learned they were from a racing stable just up the hill from the marina and this was part of their training. Even the horses have their links to the sea!

As in most of the islands, tourism is one of the linchpins of the economy - but only one, and we found the development of tourist facilities both less intrusive and more integrated into island life than it had been in Sint Maarten. Add to that a rich mix of cultures and heritages and the sense of independence often found on a small island, and you have a place where the island culture is celebrated, creativity flourishes, most people greet visitors with a friendly pride, and there always seems to be something interesting happening. Not as many cruisers come here, but it isn’t surprising that many of those who do linger.

During the next few weeks we found our way to a couple of the galleries in Christiansted, and were lucky enough to meet the artist Preston Doane at the showing of some of his pictures at the Maufe Gallery. It was an interesting exhibit, based on a series of paintings in which he explores a part of St. Croix’s heritage - the Danish involvement in the slave trade and sugar, and the links between Denmark, Africa and St. Croix. His pictures were rich in symbolism and meaning, and he took the time to talk about how he had come to conceive the idea for them and about the meanings of the symbols he had used and the story he was telling. His being there enriched our experience of that exhibit immeasurably.

Another highlight of our time in St. Croix was being shown around the island from the dry east to the rain forested west and seeing many interesting spots in between. We met our escorts while looking at another Alberg 30 sitting in the boatyard at the marina. They were sitting on their own boat on the hard across from the Alberg - we started talking, they offered us information, practical help and finally friendship, and were happy to show us around this island they had adopted as home. We went driving with them one day when conditions were rough and rolly in the anchorage and it felt good to spend time on a surface that stayed still. With them we skirted the oil refinery close to Cane Garden; saw the Contessa’s house, looking more like a castle on its perch on top of a hill; stopped at the monument marking the easternmost part of the island with its views of the coast and Buck Island; visited beautiful beaches and saw other anchorages; and saw the contrasts in environment and living conditions between different areas of the island. The drought which was hitting hard in the east seemed hardly evident in the west; mansions in the hills overlooked the valleys and coasts and contrasted with small houses and crowded yards around the towns; graceful historical buildings in town contrasted with the modern, well-stocked, mainland-style supermarkets and stores a car ride away.

There was much to absorb,and as always, time passed quickly. Hurricane season was less than two months away. By the beginning of April we were looking for a weather window for our trip to Miami. The promise of three days of winds out of the south east were tempting, so we checked out the afternoon before and early on the first Friday in April we said good-bye to St. Croix and set off on a downwind sail toward Miami.