St. John.
Our family travels often to locales both near and far. We swim in rooftop pools in New York hotels and snow-fed New Hampshire rivers. We sleep on rainy mountaintops in tents and in king size beds you never want to leave. We eat on paper plates in places I'd rather forget and in fancy restaurants with killer cuisine and views to die for.
That is to say, we get around. So that when the five of us agree that our vacation to St. John in the Virgin islands was our best, readers should take notice.
We spent ten days on the island in a vacation which was shaped not only by the island's quiet forest trails and offshore aquatic life, but also by its successful effort to balance the forces of tourism and economic development with its heritage as a national park. The island offered each of us the opportunity to enjoy our individual preferences without undermining our time as a family. The memory of this experience is what makes St John special to us all.
We flew to St. Thomas out of Washington in the dog days of a July summer. The islands are certainly no hotter than the often steamy northeast. In fact temperatures there range within a few degrees throughout the year. That is not to say it was not hot. What else can a sunny Carribean summer day promise? But we never stayed long on land, or changed out of bathing suits long enough to notice.
Our family travels often to locales both near and far. We swim in rooftop pools in New York hotels and snow-fed New Hampshire rivers. We sleep on rainy mountaintops in tents and in king size beds you never want to leave. We eat on paper plates in places I'd rather forget and in fancy restaurants with killer cuisine and views to die for.
That is to say, we get around. So that when the five of us agree that our vacation to St. John in the Virgin islands was our best, readers should take notice.
We spent ten days on the island in a vacation which was shaped not only by the island's quiet forest trails and offshore aquatic life, but also by its successful effort to balance the forces of tourism and economic development with its heritage as a national park. The island offered each of us the opportunity to enjoy our individual preferences without undermining our time as a family. The memory of this experience is what makes St John special to us all.
We flew to St. Thomas out of Washington in the dog days of a July summer. The islands are certainly no hotter than the often steamy northeast. In fact temperatures there range within a few degrees throughout the year. That is not to say it was not hot. What else can a sunny Carribean summer day promise? But we never stayed long on land, or changed out of bathing suits long enough to notice.
credit: Morguefile
Our stay was divided into three equal portions, each centered on a different hotel. Our first stop was the Westin not far from the main harbor at Cruz Bay. After the forty-five minute boat ride on a public ferry from St. Thomas, we hopped into one of the island's shared taxis for the short ride to the resort.
The attributes of each of our different locales helped determine our varied itineraries. The Westin offers lots of up market diversions - jet skis, parasailing, a large, bustling pool and a beach full of kids. I let my 13 and 17 year old girls sample these - they love the speed and the thrills -- while I read on the manmade beach and nursed a club soda at the beachfront restaurant. Many of the Westin's visitors were not hotel guests like ourselves but prospective purchasers of the timeshare properties that have become the Westin's bread and butter. One morning I escaped for a solo hike on the nearby trail to the 719 foot summit of Caneel Hill.
I stopped by the informative visitors center for St. John National Park on the north side of the harbor, chose my destination and set out, trail map in hand The path through native tropical flora and fauna rose easily from the northwest side of town. I walked alone for more than one hour but was never far from the main coastal road as I climbed to my destination. Even though I set out quite early in the morning and had plenty of water, by 9 am I was wishing I could pull a Dorothy-clicking my heels and turning up not in Kansas but in the refreshing water of Caneel Bay that beckoned below.
Yet this was St. John, not Yosemite. The trail was only 3 miles and I was down and at the pool before all the chaise lounges were taken!
Our next stop offered a different, more intimate and sedate view of the island. Gallows Point Resort offers more self-sufficient travelers townhouse condos just south of Cruz Bay. The lawn that separates the dwellings from the water are peppered with iguanas and at night the small pool is surrendered to dive bombing bats in search of a fresh water drink not easy to find in the parched islands. The complex's small beach had all manner of chairs and tables, strategically located to afford privacy and serenity as well as shelter from the sun. We did some introductory snorkeling right off the beach, offering my eight year old son Joshua an opportunity to get his swimming legs and fine tune his snorkeling skills before we set out on our upcoming maritime adventures.
The girls had discovered the harbor side shops, including a vegetarian deli, in nearby Cruz Bay, a five minute walk from our condo, and just past the local grave yard. They were more than happy to spend a few hours on their own in town while my wife and I, along with our eight year old son Joshua, remained on the beach, snorkeling, reading, and running up to the pool for a refreshing outdoor shower and swim.
The attributes of each of our different locales helped determine our varied itineraries. The Westin offers lots of up market diversions - jet skis, parasailing, a large, bustling pool and a beach full of kids. I let my 13 and 17 year old girls sample these - they love the speed and the thrills -- while I read on the manmade beach and nursed a club soda at the beachfront restaurant. Many of the Westin's visitors were not hotel guests like ourselves but prospective purchasers of the timeshare properties that have become the Westin's bread and butter. One morning I escaped for a solo hike on the nearby trail to the 719 foot summit of Caneel Hill.
I stopped by the informative visitors center for St. John National Park on the north side of the harbor, chose my destination and set out, trail map in hand The path through native tropical flora and fauna rose easily from the northwest side of town. I walked alone for more than one hour but was never far from the main coastal road as I climbed to my destination. Even though I set out quite early in the morning and had plenty of water, by 9 am I was wishing I could pull a Dorothy-clicking my heels and turning up not in Kansas but in the refreshing water of Caneel Bay that beckoned below.
Yet this was St. John, not Yosemite. The trail was only 3 miles and I was down and at the pool before all the chaise lounges were taken!
Our next stop offered a different, more intimate and sedate view of the island. Gallows Point Resort offers more self-sufficient travelers townhouse condos just south of Cruz Bay. The lawn that separates the dwellings from the water are peppered with iguanas and at night the small pool is surrendered to dive bombing bats in search of a fresh water drink not easy to find in the parched islands. The complex's small beach had all manner of chairs and tables, strategically located to afford privacy and serenity as well as shelter from the sun. We did some introductory snorkeling right off the beach, offering my eight year old son Joshua an opportunity to get his swimming legs and fine tune his snorkeling skills before we set out on our upcoming maritime adventures.
The girls had discovered the harbor side shops, including a vegetarian deli, in nearby Cruz Bay, a five minute walk from our condo, and just past the local grave yard. They were more than happy to spend a few hours on their own in town while my wife and I, along with our eight year old son Joshua, remained on the beach, snorkeling, reading, and running up to the pool for a refreshing outdoor shower and swim.
From the afternoon teas on an open air veranda looking out to the sea, to the wind whipped dinghy sailing in the protected bay
One morning we gathered some provisions and the all important snorkeling gear and sun screen and set off in a Boston Whaler with a small outboard for Honeymoon Beach. The rental companies have done their best to make their operation idiot proof. A healthy dose of good sense and respect for the water is still required whenever you venture off shore.
We motored north around the coast for about half before coming ashore at the beach, weeding our way through the gaggle of yachts, both motor and sail, moored at the permanent anchorages installed to minimize damage to the sea bottom right offshore. After throwing our anchor around a tree we donned our snorkel gear and headed for the fish. It's hard not to enjoy yourself when snorkeling. No matter what your ability or energy level the beaches at St. John offer a window into a glorious and varied undersea world that it is hard to tire of. As much as it is a solitary experience, snorkeling is also a family sport. We enjoy many activities as a family, but there was something particularly memorable for each of us about our snorkeling excursions - an experience we could enjoy both as individuals and as a group.
We returned to the water daily, never swimming in the same beach twice. The island offers numerous locations for snorkeling right off the beach. One day we rented a car and drove to Trunk Bay, where my son was determined to follow the Park Service's Underwater Trail. So too were scores of other swimmers, a small army of whom had swum to shore from a river boat steamer-like vessel that had arrived from nearby St. Thomas for a few hours. Some of my best snorkeling was done at the far end of the beach away from the trail, itself no more than a few plaques arranged next to the coral, an experience highlighted by following a trio of luminescent baby squid.
We returned to the water daily, never swimming in the same beach twice. The island offers numerous locations for snorkeling right off the beach. One day we rented a car and drove to Trunk Bay, where my son was determined to follow the Park Service's Underwater Trail. So too were scores of other swimmers, a small army of whom had swum to shore from a river boat steamer-like vessel that had arrived from nearby St. Thomas for a few hours. Some of my best snorkeling was done at the far end of the beach away from the trail, itself no more than a few plaques arranged next to the coral, an experience highlighted by following a trio of luminescent baby squid.
credit: Morguefile
Caneel Bay was our address for our final three nights. Famous as one of the original Rockefeller resorts, the property offered our family a fondly remembered mix of opportunities - from the afternoon teas on an open air veranda looking out to the sea, to the wind whipped dinghy sailing in the protected bay. Our beach house was on the beach and a short walk from the restaurant and bar where we enjoyed sunset dinners. Caneel has its own beaches, each ecologically different. At Hawksnest Bay there was a field full of live conches, the first I had ever seen. At Turtle Bay, after a half hour underwater search came upon the sea turtles and rays I had hoped to find. I was alone but inside the boat free zone that enable swimmers to snorkel without fear of a meeting with a deadly propeller.
One evening we took the caneel bay shuttle boat to the St. Thomas dock where the mammoth cruise ships berth. Summer is off season for the Carribean cruise trade as well, so only one ship was in port. We debarked right opposite the "duty free" shops, which with their Indian and Arab proprietors reminded me of a Middle East souk, including the bargaining. We allowed the girls a couple of hours shopping. I checkout out the nearby historic brick fortress but soon caught up to them.
Two hours in St. Thomas was enough for all of us. It was time to get back to the night breezes that greeted us at Caneel bay.
One evening we took the caneel bay shuttle boat to the St. Thomas dock where the mammoth cruise ships berth. Summer is off season for the Carribean cruise trade as well, so only one ship was in port. We debarked right opposite the "duty free" shops, which with their Indian and Arab proprietors reminded me of a Middle East souk, including the bargaining. We allowed the girls a couple of hours shopping. I checkout out the nearby historic brick fortress but soon caught up to them.
Two hours in St. Thomas was enough for all of us. It was time to get back to the night breezes that greeted us at Caneel bay.
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Getting There
There is no airport in St. John. For details directions on the best ways to get to the island: http://www.vinow.com/stjohn/getting_there Westin St. John Resort and Villas 888-627-7206 www.westinresortstjohn.com Gallows Point Resort 800-323-7229 www.gallowspointresort.com Caneel Bay 340-776-6111(direct) 800-2988889 |