We got to Nevis after a 50 mile trip from Antigua.  Along the way, Chris caught a barracuda and a skip jack.  We threw both back.  We took a mooring off of Sunshine’s Beach Bar (home of the Killer Bee) and wondered how loud the Saturday night music was going to be (very).  I took the dinghy into town to check in at Customs and Immigration, but they had just closed.  Darn.  And the next day was Sunday.  Who knew if anyone would show up on a Sunday?  I met a taxi driver named John, who offered to give us a tour of the island the next day.  We agreed to meet at 1000 after we cleared Customs.  Hopefully.  I went back to the boat and we Quarantined ourselves until the next morning.

We arrived at Customs on Sunday morning and weren’t surprised to see that the door was locked.  I poked my head into the Immigration office and asked what I should do.  The officer told me that Customs always showed up late on Sundays and suggested I come back later.  I explained that we were leaving on a tour at 10 and would be gone most of the day.  We would not be able to return to Customs before they closed at 12.  She wrote down my name and told me it was fine.  I could come back on Monday morning.  Um.  Okay…

We got into John’s van (feeling like total rogues for driving around the country willy nilly without being documented) and we toured Charlestown, the biggest village on the island.  John pointed out various points of interest: old churches, the first town hall, a statue of some important leader, etc, etc.  Then he pulled to the side of the road to allow traffic to pass by and pointed to a small cemetery.  “That’s the Jewish Cemetery.”  “Really?” I exclaimed.  In all our historic tours of the Caribbean, we had yet to encounter any cultural references to Judaism.  I asked him to wait while I got out to take a look.  He seemed surprised.  I am guessing that most tourists just nod when he passes this point of interest.  I entered quietly and read the sign that explained the short period of time in history when Jews came from Brazil to introduce the technology of sugar production.  It is a Jewish custom to place a stone on the grave when visiting a cemetery, so I chose a smooth one to lay down.  As I leaned over, I thought about the brief period of history when Jews lived on this island and wondered if some of their descendents are still living there. (In case you’re wondering, I’m not Jewish, but most of my friends are.  If there was a Jewish-Pride Parade in NYC, I’d be the shiksa cheering on the sidelines.)

Our next stop was the hot springs.  We have visited a few hot springs in the Caribbean.  The ones in Nevis are conveniently located in town, providing easy access to visitors and residents.  We met some Nevitians who explained that they try to bathe in the waters once a day.  The government maintains the modern tile hot tub that we were in.  We stripped down to our bathing suits and stepped into the water.  My first foot was not even one inch into the water before I yanked it out and yelped.  It was HOT!  The other springs we had experienced were pleasantly warm, but none were even as hot as our hot tub at home.  We keep that at 102 degrees Fahrenheit.  These springs were 105 degrees.  Wow.  Chris went right in.  His shoulder and back bother him so much that he was willing to deal with any amount of heat to make it feel better.  I made my way in very slowly and still only made it up to my waist.  Before leaving, we checked out the other areas of the springs, which have been left in their natural state.  These natural pools are used by locals as well.

We drove out of town and stopped briefly to see St. John’s Fig Tree Church, where Lord Nelson married Francis Nisbet.  If you don’t know who these folks are, Lord Nelson was like the George Washington of the Caribbean.  Every place you go in the Windward Islands claims stake in being an important place where Lord Nelson “slept”, “visited”, “got married”, “ate his first bagel”, you name it.  The Hermitage Greathouse was next on our tour.  Built in 1660, it is one of three remaining earthfast houses left in North America (the other two are in Virginia).  The Hermitage is operated as a hotel and restaurant today, but visitors are welcome to walk through the house and view the gardens.  We admired the woodwork in the house, especially the ceiling.  Chris and Bryson lifted the heavy wood beams that were used in construction.

It ain’t a proper island tour unless the conwaysailors are hiking miserably for at least an hour, so John dropped us off at the bottom of the trail to The Source and we picked up a (badly) hand drawn trailmap at the office of The Golden Rock Plantation.  We admired the pretty buildings, gorgeous landscaping, and the dinner table set under a gazebo.  We reserved the table for lunch and figured it would give us the inspiration we needed to hike this challenging trail.

We should have stopped before we began.  It took us five minutes to get out of the parking lot because the map was all wrong.  I hoped it would get more accurate after we got underway.  I really like maps, so it gets me kind of irritated when they are done incorrectly.  We trudged up a dirt road, passing houses once in a while.  I was confused as to why someone would build a house here.  We were half way up a steep hill, with no agriculture nearby.  The houses were small, dilapidated, and told us of the poverty that must reside within.  It was sobering and sad.

 

 

We finally hit the beginning of the trail and enjoyed the vines hanging down from the trees and the various types of plants along the way.  We noticed that a pipe had been laid under the trail and realized that it must have been laid near the watersource at the top of the mountain and piped down the hill for the local homes to use for fresh water.  Let me tell you something.  It was not an easy job to lay down this pipe.  The trail went on and on.  It was quite steep at points and curved and turned along the hill.  I couldn’t believe how much work it must have been to complete this project.

Finally, Porter, Reese, and I had had enough of the heat and stopped dead in our tracks.  We refused to walk even one more step up the hill.  Bryson and Chris continued onwards in an attempt to reach “The Source.”  According to the map, it was just around the bend.  I had long since lost faith in the map.  Thirty minutes later, they returned.  They found a nice overlook, but no water.  Our return trip was much easier, knowing that lunch was waiting for us at our special table.

 

Our lunch more than made up for our continued forays into hiking.  We had fresh salads, creamy squash soup, and the kids had well-made burgers.  We couldn’t stop remarking on our beautiful surroundings.  A koi pond was constructed around the stone walkway that led to the gazebo.  We looked out over the hillsides, lush with palm trees.

After lunch, we hit the pool.  I swam 50 laps and then chillaxed on a lounge chair while the kids made friends and splashed around.  It was lovely.  We dragged ourselves to the parking lot to meet John for our ride back to the harbor.  On the way, John offered to lend me his bicycle the next day.  I took him up on it, but first we really had to check into the country!

We checked in the next morning and had to explain several times why we had been in Nevis so long without clearing in.  It all went well so we walked down the street and found a bunch of fire trucks and a crowd.  Instead of a fire, it was the annual fireman’s contest.  Firemen from Nevis and St. Kitts get together to go head to head doing all kinds of fireman things, like uncoiling hoses, putting on their gear, and dragging a person to safety.  It was fun to watch except that I was nearly melting in my skin just contemplating putting on full fireman gear in the Caribbean heat.

Chris took the kids off to the museums and the book store while I hit the road for my cycling tour.  Could I circumnavigate the island?  I set out on John’s mountain bike.  You can take a look at the map of Nevis if you want.  I will agree with you that it doesn’t look all that big.  I got from Charleston to the northern point of the island and knew I had pushed it to my limit.  Even if I turned back now, I would probably suffer the rest of the day with heat exhaustion.  Man I miss my super-fast road bike.  I probably could have done it if I had my bike, bike shorts (!!!), and some company.  Even so, I really enjoyed being on a bike again.  I loved the breeze in my face, the views of the sea, and that perfect pace that allows you to see the world around you with more detail than driving and yet covering more ground than walking or running.

On the way back, I stopped at Sunshine’s.  I walked out to the beach to look at Patronus.  Our dinghy wasn’t tied to the back, so I knew the kids and Chris were still in town.  I sat at the bar and had a Coke with Sunshine himself.  When my lunch arrived, he insisted that I join him at what he called the VIP table.  We sat down together and he introduced me to His Excellency Delano Frank Bart, the United Nations Ambassador for St. Kitts-Nevis.  I thought about my sweaty, hot face, which was probably purple from my cold-loving Norwegian complexion.  Bart was gracious about it and asked me about my ride.  After explaining about our trip, I peppered him with questions about his job.  This was the second diplomat I have met, the other being Mr. Phillip Scanlon, the Australian Consul-General to New York, whom I met in Boothbay Harbor, Maine at the Edelson party.  I really enjoyed talking to Bart and hoped we would bump into him again at his favorite beach bar in St. Kitts later that week.

Unfortunately, we learned later that day that John, our tour guide, is a total con man.  Someone we trust that night told us that his claim that he has just been diagnosed with cancer is bogus and just an attempt to get us to give him money.  He had lamented half the day about the cost of his treatment and how he had spent all his savings on his wife’s cancer treatment the year before.  It was a let down to know that we had been duped.  I prefer to live my life with an open, trusting heart.  After a few minutes of frustration, I decided that he must be doing the best he can with the wisdom and resources that he has.  We did give him a nice tip for the tour, but we decided not to pay him for the bike rental as a way to even it out.  I hope that he finds a happier way to live.  In the meantime, find a different tourguide if you go to Nevis!

Back at the boat, we went in to enjoy the beach and met Kim and Lonne Salling from s/v Moana.  The Sallings and their three children are from Denmark.  We hit it off with them immediately and spent the rest of the day together, moving over to Sunshine’s for drinks on the beach as soon as it was late enough to make it acceptable.  The other three adults enjoyed Killer Bee’s, Sunshine’s signature drink.

The four of us talked about cruising, boatschooling, children, and seeing the world.  The kids dug in the sand and splashed in the water.  It was almost scary how strongly I felt for this family after just a few hours.  Maybe it was the Scandinavian thing.  We had dinner together at Sunshine’s, not wanting the day to end.  We were leaving for St. Kitts in the morning and Moana was heading for Antigua.  We would not cross paths again, but it did not stop us from enjoying every moment together.

The next morning, we dinghied over to s/v Moana for a last goodbye and were gifted with clothing for Reese, movies, books, and a special letter from their daughter.  We waved goodbye, wishing them fair winds back to Denmark.  We will not soon forget the Sallings.

As we readied to leave the harbor, Chris’ flip flop flipped into the water, so I flopped in to rescue it.  Back on board, it we continued on with our daily fun:

Next up, the island they named after our captain….