April Sunshine & A Day at the Beach

This is pretty much straight from my "journal," in case you were wondering.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

At 9:21a.m., I left Jaime at Mongoose Junction in Cruz Bay ("Mongoose" is the shopping center where we work - we are also subbing at Gifft Hill School, a local middle/high school); he was headed for Big Planet (the surf store that has been filling up our hours down here as of late! We are both thankful just to have jobs!), and I was headed for Salomon's Beach (V.I. Nat'l Park). I had taken a 2-hour nap when we were (thankfully!) dropped off by Nate at 6:30 this morning. Otherwise, we would've had a mountainous "2-hour hike" into town! So, well rested and ready for a "lone adventure," I set off for Lind Trail. Before I reached the trail, I saw a baby mongoose scamper across the road; he glanced at me curiously, before darting into the brush. Apparently a donkey had been on the trail earlier, because he left a "present" in the pathway.
I hiked the rocky yet not too steep trail for a few minutes, until my jaunt turned from a nature walk into a Disney-esque, guided tour; there, between me and where the trail forked off, stood 10 tourists and their guide, clad in garb suitable for touristy nature walks. I stood awkwardly behind this group, waiting for them to move on, when I looked down beside me and spied a couple of small lizards mating on a rock! ("Awkward!") The poor little lizards and I just hung in the background as the guide spoke about the Christmas cactus, and how the bloom upside-down looks like a manger with a star above it. He also mentioned that the official bird of St. John is nicknamed the Sugar bird, which happened to be tweeting in a nearby tree. Then, the lizards ran away, and I had nowhere to run as the tour guide explained, in a slight southern accent, how when they entered the next part of the trail, it would be like "walking into a perfume bottle," because of some fragrant, teeny white flowers... then, they began to move on and I could stop avoiding eye contact as I waited for a "green light."
Thankfully, the "white-socked" tourist party moved right, and my "black argyle-socked" one-woman party moved in the opposite direction. I captured a few pictures along my pleasant hike, and enjoyed the shade from overhanging branches. It's warm, and I'm already sweating from the hike and the heat. I stopped to look at some tiny white flowers that resemble what the tour guide had described; two large, june-bug-ish bugs buzzed around happily, while a black bird that sounded like a car alarm whooped overhead.
The trail split off again to the left after about 20 minutes of wandering, and before too long I could trade my tennies for some flops, and claim my spot on this gorgeous, "secret spot" beach. From where I lay, I can see St. Thomas, the edge of Caneel Bay, and I think Jost Van Dyke in the distance. The water is calm and warm, and the sand soft and only somewhat grainy. I snorkel a little without my fins, and see anemonies, tropical fish in yellows and blues, mustard-yellow brain coral and fans in shades of eggplant purple. When I thought I spotted a small barracuda, I decided it was time my "sparkly" (i.e., ring) and I went back to shore, before my finger became some fish's lunch (ha ha).
The shore was so delightful, though, I couldn't resist lounging on my bright green sarong in the sun for a while, wearing my big hat and reading Robinson Crusoe. Today I don't have to be at work until 4, so I can really enjoy this perfect beach day. This is going to be an interesting afternoon; in a series of firsts, this will be the first time I take a shower with a gallon jug. It's totally worth it, though, to spend a few hours at this peaceful beach. (Other recent firsts? First time hitch-hiking to work, first time teaching at a school, etc.) Roosters keep crowing in the background randomly.
A couple who had "dominated" the entrance for a while is now pulling away in their dinghy. (NOTE: You can only get to Salomon's by foot or boat.) Reminds me of another boat I saw earlier, which the driver steered directly toward the rocks before proceeding to start the engine. The boat made a loud noise as it was introduced to a large rock, and the driver sheepishly tried to back the dinghy up... it was pretty funny! He finally got his possibly embarrassed family away from the beach, and in the right direction. But now? The beach is almost entirely mine. I'm glad not all the most beautiful places left in the world aren't owned by the rich. (Thank goodness for National Parks in that respect.)
I love the way the wind blows through the rigging of a nearby sailboat, making a ghostly "whooing" sound, like some maritime mystery. The small waves look like layers of sea green glass, lapping over one another in the most soothing way. (AMAZING "water colors" here - the blues and greens and aquamarines are awesome. Hey, I just made a rhyme.)
Hee hee... a little boy was snorkeling nearby a little while ago, and he was singing a little song in his snorkle! He didn't know anyone could hear him, so the song was one of sheer childhood contentment; just enjoying his day. It was cute. I snorkeled the same area, and there aren't rocks in this spot, only wavy sand, pale blue water and little silver fish as big as your pinky, schooling in the safe, warm shallows. Sigh... it was a nice day! Oh, and on my way back to town, I saw a donkey (possible "the donkey"?), and giggled to myself, because the fellow in front of me was so scared as he passed the grey "beast" - he was almost hugging the other side of the trail from where the donkey lazily stood! Well, I stayed on the opposite side too, but at least I said "Hello, donkey" as I walked by.