"In The Bullseye Of A Hurricane", Part 6
For the first time this trip, we parted ways with the storm. Hurricane Tomas was now spinning north, while the Grand Princess was plowing northeast for Antigua, another island I've visited before. In fact, I know right where a dart bar on the beach is hiding, in Dickerson Bay-a place that produced one of my favorite memories and one of my best photos.
So, instead of trying to repeat history, I wanted to see more. After a gorgeous sunrise arrival, we disembarked and drove across the island for Long Bay, passing rusting sugarcane refineries and new Cricket stadiums, for another marvelous day of snorkeling. On the way, we stopped to get drinks. The ceremony for Barbados' recently deceased prime minister was playing on a small television in the store. As I stood there, holding my bag of ice, I watched silently for a moment with the clerks and other patrons. I realized how respected this man was, even beyond his own island. I also recognized the broader cultural connection between many of the Caribbean islands.
The Long Bay beach we picked was perfect, a feast of white sand and blue water under green palms. I was so content with our shady hangout, my new friends, and a dozen frosty brews, I never ventured down the beach to search for darts. It didn't even cross my mind. But, again, I did find a favorite picture: me and a local woman whose smile is simply amazing.
Meeting the minivan mid afternoon for our return trip, we stopped at Devil's Bridge, an interesting natural arch on the edge of the Atlantic. We found a few of Antigua's wild donkeys, whose ass-ancestors labored in the plantations decades and centuries ago. Upon return to the ship, the captain had another dubious announcement: "Hurricane Tomas has moved over Haiti, and we are forced to adjust our itinerary. Our scheduled ports at the Dominican Republic and Grand Turk have been canceled, and instead, after our visit to St. Thomas, we will add San Juan, Puerto Rico, before returning to Fort Lauderdale."
Despite the disappointment, and knowing that Puerto Rico's old city port offered more history than nature, my friends and I determined to make the most of our next stop in St. Thomas, our last best chance for some epic snorkeling. We signed up for a catamaran tour, and early the next morning, we were whisking across the bay, blasting classic rock, dangling our legs between the pontoons, heading for Buck Island, a wildlife refuge with a bay filled with sea turtles and ship wrecks. After a long dive, I hung out with the skipper and had a half dozen cups of rum-infused juice, before we returned to the port. We broke for lunch, then regrouped to find another driver and a dreamy afternoon on the far side of St. Thomas. Fortunately, the captain extended our stay by two hours.
From last year's visit, I knew there were dartboards at a great pub in the port, Paradise Gate. But this time, my goal was Sib's Mountain Bar and Grill, probably the island's best dart bar. I'd have to find a way to squeeze in a quick stop at Sib's, somewhere between Sapphire Beach and our six o'clock departure time.
As we drove across the island, winding over the green hills, I was scheming about how I'd pull it off.
Over and double out.
