Best Time To Go

Summertime in the U.S. Virgin Islands is a fabulous time to go, because at no other time of year will you be as grateful for the water, or enjoy all that the ocean offers quite as much. The climate is not oppressive in the summer, but being out and about requires a few daily dips to cool off, which really isn’t a downside. Furthermore, accommodation rates drop drastically. St. John is the smallest, and I must say, most dashing of the U.S. territory that I visited.

Most of the 28 square miles are National Park; a debilitating move for tourist development that happens to, fortunately, maintain the blue-green paradisiacal elements of the region. Development paradoxically supports turning the tourist profit while its byproducts (deforestation, pollution, and erosion, to name some environmental concerns) guarantee the expiration date of the natural draw. Tropical paradises are distinctly vulnerable, given that the tourism taking advantage of the shores, seas, slopes, and wildlife isn’t exactly sustainable. So the coral reefs, the interesting culture, the privacy, all the flora and fauna- the draw, are not ideally supported by the numbers of people visiting to experience them. Thankfully, sustainable development and eco-tourism have arrived at these precious islands and produced wonderful little resorts for guilt-free travel.

The history of the Islands includes the migration of the Arawak people from South America, and the first tours of Christopher Columbus. The Arawak people experienced the peak of cruel and sadistic rule from Europe. For the next centuries, the fruits of slave labor supported Dutch rule. By the end of the Second World War, Water Island had been purchased for ten big ones to become the fourth of these islands in U.S. territory. U.S. Virgin Islanders enjoy a smattering of citizenship perks, but not all. And finally, pirate history abounds. Since pirates are so hot right now, it is a great time to take the kids.

Annaberg Plantation and Cartherineburg Sugar Mill are historical sites east of Trunk Bay with great walking trails that display learnings describing the historical significance of the ruins as well as vegetation and local animal life. Annaberg was the site of heavy deforestation, which fueled the production of sugar. Walking the paths from the shady ruins of the hacienda to the exposed factory on a bare hill, the contrast is stifling. It is no wonder that this awful labor of cooking cane, forced in some of the most inhospitable weather, resulted in one of the first successful, albeit temporarily so, slave rebellions. The shift in power lasted six months on St. John.

There, Cruz Bay is the port city, where the ferry comes in. The restaurants are small, the food is fantastic, and I assume that the shopping around them is a mix of kitschy frog and lizard paperweights, expensive local jewelry, and flowing sarong-style raiment. Perks of the little town are Woody’s Seafood Saloon, home to a tiny bar and great sandwiches; Rumbalaya Grill with open air seating and an interesting menu; and for some reason, a number of Italian restaurants. Obviously, the thing to do here is find a beach. Every day, go out in search of the perfect beach. St. John is a wonderland of blue-green waves lapping at alabaster sand beaches, which crawl into thick green vegetation that rolls over the rippling hills.

Trunk Bay, along the North Shore, is incomparable for photographs, but heavily trafficked. Hire a boat for a day of snorkeling far away from the resorts, and they’ll take you to beaches without names. There is no excuse for not going snorkeling or scuba diving. Inside the National Park (which, I was so pleased to find, is one of the few parks that serves alcohol: the lady who rents your snorkel gear also offers delightfully strong piña coladas) there are beaches and trails, and more beaches. The guided snorkel trail off Trunk Bay ironically displays how this many visitors choke the coral and reef life.

Eco-tourism is especially exciting on Saint John because so much of the island is already protected, and there responsible accommodations to recommend. Maho Bay and Concordia Tents (some handicap accessible) recycle extensively, use gravity-powered plumbing, and rarely heat water. Also recommended are campsites and cottages on Cinnamon Bay. For a homier feel, Maho Bay offers luxury private eco-villas, and surrounding the towns, the typical villas-for-rent abound. Cinnamon Bay camping is a jaunt away from the ever-popular Trunk Bay, and nestled into National Park land with lots of trails to explore. It also offers quite the budget alternative for lodging. All these options ensure better local immersion than the lure of air conditioning at a chain hotel.

So to those who might not support my August vacation to Saint John, I guffaw. I’ve gotten all nostalgic for the time I spent there sweating and swimming and smiling.