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Growing up on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, I would go out on the Chesapeake Bay with my father, who would fish
from the first day the boats started running until the water froze over. But after my first daytrip in the Caribbean I was
hooked on a totally different definition of sailing.
In 2004, when I returned from vacation in St. Thomas, I did a google search, typing in the words “black boaters.” The
first, second and third hits were Black Boaters Summit which led to a phone call and then to lunch with the group at their
yearly reunion at the Annapolis Boat Show.
In December 2006, when the chance came to spend a week with Captain Paul Mixon and a group of fellow sailors on a
scaled down version of the group’s annual August trip, my duffle bag was packed the day after I got word of the trip.
“Pack light,” we were told. Bring swimsuits and shorts, and one outfit that will get a seat in a restaurant with tablelcloths
and more than one fork at the place setting.
from the first day the boats started running until the water froze over. But after my first daytrip in the Caribbean I was
hooked on a totally different definition of sailing.
In 2004, when I returned from vacation in St. Thomas, I did a google search, typing in the words “black boaters.” The
first, second and third hits were Black Boaters Summit which led to a phone call and then to lunch with the group at their
yearly reunion at the Annapolis Boat Show.
In December 2006, when the chance came to spend a week with Captain Paul Mixon and a group of fellow sailors on a
scaled down version of the group’s annual August trip, my duffle bag was packed the day after I got word of the trip.
“Pack light,” we were told. Bring swimsuits and shorts, and one outfit that will get a seat in a restaurant with tablelcloths
and more than one fork at the place setting.
| Black Travels.com An Original Guide to Exploring the World for the Adventurous Black Traveler |
| | | | | | | | | | | | |
| Bareboating in the British Virgin Islands Niambi Brown Davis |
After negotiating the labyrinth that is JFK,
including two chaotic security checks, we boarded
our flight and a few hungry hours later, landed in
St. Thomas. No further than the airport taxi
stand, I was already celebrating December in the
tropics, wishing I could stuff my winter jacket
into the nearest trashcan. We ate a quick,
delicious lunch at Bella Blue, and then headed for
Tortola on a ferry resembling Humphrey Bogart’s
African Queen.
Once on Tortola, we cleared customs and took a
quick jeep ride to Soper’s Hole Marina, home of
Voyage Charters. The sailing enclave is classic
Caribbean – pink and blue two story buildings
trimmed in white, tucked between a high green
hill and the yacht harbor. It was late afternoon
when we arrived and most of the shops were
closed. We did get to shop for extras for our fully
including two chaotic security checks, we boarded
our flight and a few hungry hours later, landed in
St. Thomas. No further than the airport taxi
stand, I was already celebrating December in the
tropics, wishing I could stuff my winter jacket
into the nearest trashcan. We ate a quick,
delicious lunch at Bella Blue, and then headed for
Tortola on a ferry resembling Humphrey Bogart’s
African Queen.
Once on Tortola, we cleared customs and took a
quick jeep ride to Soper’s Hole Marina, home of
Voyage Charters. The sailing enclave is classic
Caribbean – pink and blue two story buildings
trimmed in white, tucked between a high green
hill and the yacht harbor. It was late afternoon
when we arrived and most of the shops were
closed. We did get to shop for extras for our fully
provisioned yacht at the Harbour Market, a two-story gourmet grocery stocked with meat and vegetables, coffee, spices,
and rubs, some of which turned out to be the seasoning of choice for our meals onboard. The next morning I planned to
roam around the colorful complex on the hunt for jewelry, local hand painted fabric and art, but there wasn’t enough time.
If I hadn’t come to sail, there was more than enough at the marina to hold me, including the small hotel overlooking the
water and the tall masts of sailing yachts.
and rubs, some of which turned out to be the seasoning of choice for our meals onboard. The next morning I planned to
roam around the colorful complex on the hunt for jewelry, local hand painted fabric and art, but there wasn’t enough time.
If I hadn’t come to sail, there was more than enough at the marina to hold me, including the small hotel overlooking the
water and the tall masts of sailing yachts.
But Infinite Zest awaited – literally and figuratively. To
some, the words “sail boat” conjure up images of a vessel
leaning halfway into the water being knocked around by
waves, with a crew working the winch like manic organ
grinders.
Infinite Zest was anything but – the Voyage 500, a 50 foot
sailing catamaran holds four double berths and two smaller,
most with their own head (or toilet) and shower. We didn’t
have to BYO; the boat comes stocked with towels, sheets
and blankets. The galley is a seagoing chef’s delight – a
stove, oven and propane barbeque grill, double sink,
microwave, refrigerator and two freezers to hold our water,
juice and of course, our champagne. Meals were served
from the granite-topped bar separating the galley from the
salon’s circular seating. Outside the sliding doors, the
cockpit has plenty of room for relaxing or even sleeping.
That first night I made my bed out in the Caribbean night
air. Later in the week, we were welcomed aboard with
gracious hospitality by the crew of Wild Thing II, another of
Voyage’s fleet of catamarans. Infinite Zest will always hold
a place in my heart, but Wild Thing II is a definite step up
in luxury.
Vacation or not, some habits just can’t be broken, like the
inability to sleep past the crack of dawn. Because I was the
some, the words “sail boat” conjure up images of a vessel
leaning halfway into the water being knocked around by
waves, with a crew working the winch like manic organ
grinders.
Infinite Zest was anything but – the Voyage 500, a 50 foot
sailing catamaran holds four double berths and two smaller,
most with their own head (or toilet) and shower. We didn’t
have to BYO; the boat comes stocked with towels, sheets
and blankets. The galley is a seagoing chef’s delight – a
stove, oven and propane barbeque grill, double sink,
microwave, refrigerator and two freezers to hold our water,
juice and of course, our champagne. Meals were served
from the granite-topped bar separating the galley from the
salon’s circular seating. Outside the sliding doors, the
cockpit has plenty of room for relaxing or even sleeping.
That first night I made my bed out in the Caribbean night
air. Later in the week, we were welcomed aboard with
gracious hospitality by the crew of Wild Thing II, another of
Voyage’s fleet of catamarans. Infinite Zest will always hold
a place in my heart, but Wild Thing II is a definite step up
in luxury.
Vacation or not, some habits just can’t be broken, like the
inability to sleep past the crack of dawn. Because I was the
the first one up each morning, the role of designated coffee maker fell to me. After a desperate, caffeine-crazed search for
coffee filters, I improvised, making paper towels a handy second. One thing is certain - whether on land or sea, coffee is the
elixir of life. Although I wouldn’t recommend it on a workday, each morning on Infinite Zest I and my fellow java drinkers
met the Caribbean sunrise with coffee sweetened by Irish Cream. If the missing milk ever turned up, I’m sure that IC
would still have been the creamer of choice.
The first time we sailed out into open water, I understood the expression “living the life of Riley,” at least the part defined
as contentment. Even if I had photoshopped the scene from separate pictures of paradise, that morning couldn’t have been
more beautiful. The sky was one shade of blue, the water another. In between was the sun. We didn’t slice; we surged
through the water, passing other sailboats and watching divers tilt backward off the side of their live-aboard dive boat. In
summer, the Caribbean sun can be brutal, but in December the heat index was just right.
Our first stop was White Bay on Jost Van Dyke. Autographed buoys, flags and t-shirts left behind attest to the popularity
of Seddy Callwood’s One Love Bar. It was the middle of a Friday afternoon, but the beach and bars were full of yachties
drinking and eating, pitching horseshoes or swinging in the hammocks stretched between two tall palms. Drinks in hand, we
sat at a shaded picnic table to hear Seddy talk in riddles and watch him perform magic with a length of pink string. One
Love is a family affair; while his wife served drinks, our host cooked up chicken and lobster and set the big platter on the
bar for the eating enjoyment of his drinking guests. Further down the beach, I ate the first of the many conch fritters I
would enjoy that week, washed down by a cold Carib with a slice of lime stuffed in the bottle’s neck.
Halfway between our mooring and the beach, I could see the shoreline of Cane Garden Bay. Even before we stepped off
the boat, I knew I’d come back to this place again.
coffee filters, I improvised, making paper towels a handy second. One thing is certain - whether on land or sea, coffee is the
elixir of life. Although I wouldn’t recommend it on a workday, each morning on Infinite Zest I and my fellow java drinkers
met the Caribbean sunrise with coffee sweetened by Irish Cream. If the missing milk ever turned up, I’m sure that IC
would still have been the creamer of choice.
The first time we sailed out into open water, I understood the expression “living the life of Riley,” at least the part defined
as contentment. Even if I had photoshopped the scene from separate pictures of paradise, that morning couldn’t have been
more beautiful. The sky was one shade of blue, the water another. In between was the sun. We didn’t slice; we surged
through the water, passing other sailboats and watching divers tilt backward off the side of their live-aboard dive boat. In
summer, the Caribbean sun can be brutal, but in December the heat index was just right.
Our first stop was White Bay on Jost Van Dyke. Autographed buoys, flags and t-shirts left behind attest to the popularity
of Seddy Callwood’s One Love Bar. It was the middle of a Friday afternoon, but the beach and bars were full of yachties
drinking and eating, pitching horseshoes or swinging in the hammocks stretched between two tall palms. Drinks in hand, we
sat at a shaded picnic table to hear Seddy talk in riddles and watch him perform magic with a length of pink string. One
Love is a family affair; while his wife served drinks, our host cooked up chicken and lobster and set the big platter on the
bar for the eating enjoyment of his drinking guests. Further down the beach, I ate the first of the many conch fritters I
would enjoy that week, washed down by a cold Carib with a slice of lime stuffed in the bottle’s neck.
Halfway between our mooring and the beach, I could see the shoreline of Cane Garden Bay. Even before we stepped off
the boat, I knew I’d come back to this place again.
At first, I couldn’t put my finger on the reason,
chalking it up to the “you know it when you see it”
instinct. On land, I understood why – CGB is the
kind of place made popular in songs by people like
Harry Belafonte and Jimmy Buffet. It was the laid-
back, low-key Caribbean of our dreams. No high-rise
hotels or cottages built from some developer’s idea of
paradise. Instead, local businesses lined the beach,
from jewelry and clothing vendors to bars, hotels and
guest houses up the rocky steps behind the beach.
That night we had dinner at Myetts Garden and Grill
Restaurant. True to its name, the complex of hotel,
gift shop, bar and dining room is open to tropical
gardens and greenery. Our entertainment was a
singer who made a seamless switch from blues to
rocking reggae and soca. By the time he had us
chalking it up to the “you know it when you see it”
instinct. On land, I understood why – CGB is the
kind of place made popular in songs by people like
Harry Belafonte and Jimmy Buffet. It was the laid-
back, low-key Caribbean of our dreams. No high-rise
hotels or cottages built from some developer’s idea of
paradise. Instead, local businesses lined the beach,
from jewelry and clothing vendors to bars, hotels and
guest houses up the rocky steps behind the beach.
That night we had dinner at Myetts Garden and Grill
Restaurant. True to its name, the complex of hotel,
gift shop, bar and dining room is open to tropical
gardens and greenery. Our entertainment was a
singer who made a seamless switch from blues to
rocking reggae and soca. By the time he had us
us winin’ our waists to a hard driving calypso, it was time to hit the next spot. And we did, partying from Myetts down to
Rhymers and somehow negotiating the steep step down into the dinghy and back to Infinite Zest. A few days later, a
change in plans brought us back to Cane Garden Bay for a day I consider the best of the best. I sat by the bar overlooking
the white beach and turquoise water, with not a cheeseburger, but conch fritters in paradise. It was Christmas time, but in a
bathing suit with the sounds of sweet calypso and the sight of somebody’s Carib framed in a window ledge, the smell of
pine, bayberry and Christmas cookies was hard to imagine.
When we moored again at Jost van Dyke, it was for dinner reservations at the world-reknowned Foxy’s. Night falls like a
heavy curtain in the Caribbean; there is nothing like arriving by water and catching sight of yachts in the harbor, framed by
the last gold and blue remnants of the day. We were early and with time to kill, some of us took a walk down the road that
ran parallel to the beach. It was dark, but people were out, enjoying the warm night air and the sound of music coming
from the eating and drinking establishments along the beach. A group of young men lounged under a tree. We spoke, and
before we moved away, they asked where we were from. “Detroit, New York, Maryland,” we replied. Black don’t crack,
but couple of us were old enough to be their mothers, and the question wasn’t the prelude to flirt – it was our hair. “We
don’t see many female tourists with hair like yours,” said one. I laughed - a few years ago, when the British Virgin Islands
declared their now-repealed pox on “dreadlocks” there would have been none.
Rhymers and somehow negotiating the steep step down into the dinghy and back to Infinite Zest. A few days later, a
change in plans brought us back to Cane Garden Bay for a day I consider the best of the best. I sat by the bar overlooking
the white beach and turquoise water, with not a cheeseburger, but conch fritters in paradise. It was Christmas time, but in a
bathing suit with the sounds of sweet calypso and the sight of somebody’s Carib framed in a window ledge, the smell of
pine, bayberry and Christmas cookies was hard to imagine.
When we moored again at Jost van Dyke, it was for dinner reservations at the world-reknowned Foxy’s. Night falls like a
heavy curtain in the Caribbean; there is nothing like arriving by water and catching sight of yachts in the harbor, framed by
the last gold and blue remnants of the day. We were early and with time to kill, some of us took a walk down the road that
ran parallel to the beach. It was dark, but people were out, enjoying the warm night air and the sound of music coming
from the eating and drinking establishments along the beach. A group of young men lounged under a tree. We spoke, and
before we moved away, they asked where we were from. “Detroit, New York, Maryland,” we replied. Black don’t crack,
but couple of us were old enough to be their mothers, and the question wasn’t the prelude to flirt – it was our hair. “We
don’t see many female tourists with hair like yours,” said one. I laughed - a few years ago, when the British Virgin Islands
declared their now-repealed pox on “dreadlocks” there would have been none.
Further down, I spotted a small church, sorry I
was without the camera that was usually part of
my anatomy. At night the small structure was
beautiful, reminding me of a rural country
church at home. Nearby, the lights on a small
dive shop were still on. The owner and his wife
lived in a house behind the shop; she was taking
a break and he was caring for their baby
daughter, lifting her from the portable playpen
when she wanted his attention. Speaking with
passion, he told us that his travels had taken him
around the world, but the BVI is where he
chose to settle with his family and live the life
he loved right there on tiny Jost Van Dyke.
My first sight of our next stop came from an
episode of the Fine Living Channel’s Fantasy
Camp as it followed a group of amateurs
was without the camera that was usually part of
my anatomy. At night the small structure was
beautiful, reminding me of a rural country
church at home. Nearby, the lights on a small
dive shop were still on. The owner and his wife
lived in a house behind the shop; she was taking
a break and he was caring for their baby
daughter, lifting her from the portable playpen
when she wanted his attention. Speaking with
passion, he told us that his travels had taken him
around the world, but the BVI is where he
chose to settle with his family and live the life
he loved right there on tiny Jost Van Dyke.
My first sight of our next stop came from an
episode of the Fine Living Channel’s Fantasy
Camp as it followed a group of amateurs
learning the fine points of sailing. Located on the North Sound of Virgin Gorda, it was the last outpost for sailors before
they reached open water – hence, the name Bitter End. Infinite Zest tied up at the dock near a sleek, burgundy yacht almost
twice the length of our catamaran and a deep blue sailing vessel from Wilmington Delaware, an hour away from my home
in Maryland.
According to its Fleet Fact Sheets, “the Bitter End Yacht Club is where professional sailors play and where novices learn.”
Judging from the bustling activity, there was a lot of both going on. The resort maintains a complimentary club fleet of over
100 watercraft - sailboats, windsurfers, shells and kayaks, in addition to opportunites to snorkel, dive and kiteboard.The
charter and excursion fleet includes 30-foot Freedom Yachts for living aboard and a power and sailing catamaran for
cruising the nearby islands. In addition, the Bitter End operates a world-famous sailing school. Seeing is believing – from the
teak lobby building down to the quarterdeck, its reputation as a water-sports mecca is well-deserved.
For the rest of us, the Blue, Yellow and Green beaches beckoned, each so named for the color of its striped beach chairs.
Fresh water lovers can lounge and snack by the Bitter End’s beautiful, palm shaded pool. Along with a delicious lobster
salad, they serve the best fresh limeade I have ever tasted.
We capped off a great day with dinner in the Club House Steak and Seafood Grille, facing the water and open to the warm
night air. The soups were superb. Fresh bread arrived, which along with pastries, is baked daily on the premises. Each table
was set with complimentary bottles of spiced rum. From beginning to end, the setting, the food and service were superb.
The next morning we took a golf cart tour around winding hills carpeted with tropical greenery. On the long wooden deck of
the room with a magnificent view of the resort and the Atlantic, I understood more of the Bitter End’s charm, especially the
hammock stretched out on the long wooden deck. From where we stood, the tip of Richard Branson’s Necker Island was
visible. Below us, boats dotted the water, all of them there for the total Bitter End experience. I’d like to return for more; to
take an all-day excursion, Introduction to Sailing 101, or to simply move from beach to beach and soak up that experience a
few days longer. When it was time to leave, as we sailed away from the dock, I took one last picture of the red-roofed
clubhouse to remind me that I’ll be back.
they reached open water – hence, the name Bitter End. Infinite Zest tied up at the dock near a sleek, burgundy yacht almost
twice the length of our catamaran and a deep blue sailing vessel from Wilmington Delaware, an hour away from my home
in Maryland.
According to its Fleet Fact Sheets, “the Bitter End Yacht Club is where professional sailors play and where novices learn.”
Judging from the bustling activity, there was a lot of both going on. The resort maintains a complimentary club fleet of over
100 watercraft - sailboats, windsurfers, shells and kayaks, in addition to opportunites to snorkel, dive and kiteboard.The
charter and excursion fleet includes 30-foot Freedom Yachts for living aboard and a power and sailing catamaran for
cruising the nearby islands. In addition, the Bitter End operates a world-famous sailing school. Seeing is believing – from the
teak lobby building down to the quarterdeck, its reputation as a water-sports mecca is well-deserved.
For the rest of us, the Blue, Yellow and Green beaches beckoned, each so named for the color of its striped beach chairs.
Fresh water lovers can lounge and snack by the Bitter End’s beautiful, palm shaded pool. Along with a delicious lobster
salad, they serve the best fresh limeade I have ever tasted.
We capped off a great day with dinner in the Club House Steak and Seafood Grille, facing the water and open to the warm
night air. The soups were superb. Fresh bread arrived, which along with pastries, is baked daily on the premises. Each table
was set with complimentary bottles of spiced rum. From beginning to end, the setting, the food and service were superb.
The next morning we took a golf cart tour around winding hills carpeted with tropical greenery. On the long wooden deck of
the room with a magnificent view of the resort and the Atlantic, I understood more of the Bitter End’s charm, especially the
hammock stretched out on the long wooden deck. From where we stood, the tip of Richard Branson’s Necker Island was
visible. Below us, boats dotted the water, all of them there for the total Bitter End experience. I’d like to return for more; to
take an all-day excursion, Introduction to Sailing 101, or to simply move from beach to beach and soak up that experience a
few days longer. When it was time to leave, as we sailed away from the dock, I took one last picture of the red-roofed
clubhouse to remind me that I’ll be back.
In the way of all great vacations, it was over too
soon. When we pulled into the dock at Soper’s Hole,
the sun was setting in an explosion of dark, fiery gold.
I was standing in the galley, but I grabbed my camera
and hurried out on deck to capture the bittersweet
beauty of our last night in the beautiful British Virgins.
I didn’t know what to expect when we first stepped
aboard. With the exception of a hurricane and a leaky
boat, how bad could December in the BVI turn out to
be? It turned out to be more than I imagined – who
knew I’d take an interest in celestial navigation?
Camaradie, cooperation, and a lot of shared laughter
– all from people who were mostly strangers to each
other when we set out. One thing I do know – I fell in
love with the British Virgin Islands, and when the
Black Boaters Summit sets sail in August 2007, I will
be back.
soon. When we pulled into the dock at Soper’s Hole,
the sun was setting in an explosion of dark, fiery gold.
I was standing in the galley, but I grabbed my camera
and hurried out on deck to capture the bittersweet
beauty of our last night in the beautiful British Virgins.
I didn’t know what to expect when we first stepped
aboard. With the exception of a hurricane and a leaky
boat, how bad could December in the BVI turn out to
be? It turned out to be more than I imagined – who
knew I’d take an interest in celestial navigation?
Camaradie, cooperation, and a lot of shared laughter
– all from people who were mostly strangers to each
other when we set out. One thing I do know – I fell in
love with the British Virgin Islands, and when the
Black Boaters Summit sets sail in August 2007, I will
be back.