Getting Around

Earlier this week I was working late and found myself in Coral Bay around dusk with the NPS truck. For those unfamiliar with St. John geography, Coral and Cruz Bays are approximately 7 miles apart as the crow flies, 8 miles with the added twists and turns of Centerline Road, a good half-hour to forty minutes by car. The maximum speed limit on the island is twenty miles an hour, and its hard to push it too far past that. There are switchbacks on hills that I have driven down that are so steep that you can't see the road through the windshield, and you just have to trust that you're still on the "paved" surface, and curves (such as the one on the way to "Miss Lucys") that are so sharp they become single-lane for just a moment.

This was the typical drive home that I was facing as I stopped at the intersection in Coral Bay to turn onto Centerline. A man was standing by the stop sign, and approached the truck as I pulled up. "Cruz Bay?" He asked. My heart sank. "Hon, I'm sorry, I can't" I answered him. He glanced at my door, saw the park insignia, and smiled, waving me off. "National Park. That's ok." "I'm so sorry. I really am." I said as I pulled away. If I had been anyone else, or in any other vehicle, the exchange would have vastly different. I felt awful as I drove off, the only person is a large vehicle in a place where gas costs $5 a gallon. It felt anti-karmic, like there would be a small mark on my record that shows I had not acted neighborly to my fellow man. Most everyone at the Park feels bad about not being allowed to pick up hitchhikers- I personally think its slightly hypocritical as the Park has told me, and other interns, to hitch in order to get parts of my job done, but that's another blog entry.

Hitchhiking is a way that people get around here, our version of mass-transportation, which, ironically, is more reliable and convenient than the bus that drives back and forth down Centerline. Everyone has their own personal rules about who they will pick up and when, or who they will ride with and when. I have been picked up people who claim they haven't picked up a hitchhiker in 20 years. More often, its someone who you "know", that friend of a friend you met at the bar over the weekend, or who you worked a project with at some point, who pull over if your walking in the direction they are going.

My rules include walking. To many people here that's key. On St. John, you walk, holding your hand out and pointing your finger casually as a car passes by. It shows that you're self-sufficient. And if they don't stop, you're just that much closer to your destination. You can tell when someone is new to the island; they stand in the shade waving people down. They're usually considered lazy continentals that we just don't have time to stop for.

When people do have personal vehicles, they are usually "island cars"- rusted, dented, jerry-rigged survivors, small suzukis and old jeeps that are turned on by paper-clips when keys have been lost, and sometimes have things like wooden benches built on the back. These are cars that are always four wheel drive, and can be taken down the dirt and gravel roads, or steep driveways, that still comprise most of the roadways on the island. Somehow these vehicles keep on keepin' on, probably just from the sheer will of their owner.

Some people claim the most efficient way to get from place to place on island is via boat, but it seems that there are even fewer boats than cars. When going off island there are ferrys, both for cars and for people. The car ferry requires that you in fact have a car, so I have to tag along with friends, usually John and Jess, if they are heading to St. Thomas for supplies. When you have a car ferry trip available, you generally buy the 6-month supply of toilet paper from Cost-u-Less. Last week three of our four car barges were down, and I'm still not clear on whether they were broken or if gas prices drove them to close for a few days; around here it was probably a combination of the two.

If you take the people ferry, say to St. Thomas, you have to rely on taxis. No one from St. John hitchhikes on "St. Trauma". There are several different kinds- the safari's, which are also called dollar taxis (they are only suppossed to cost a dollar anywhere, but I have paid two before). These are similiar to the taxis on St. John- pickup trucks that have been modified to have benches where the bed of the truck would usually be. They are open air, no seat belts. Somehow, even with 10 people in the back, the driver remembers where you said you needed to go. Safaris are easily confused with gypsy taxis- people who do not have a taxi medallion but who will stop and pick you up as if they did. These are generally not recommended. However, if you are going somewhere that a safari doesn't you might be able to negotiate a good price with a gypsy taxi. How and when you'll get there can be another story. The taxis most tourists take are the airport taxis- 15 passenger vans that have a stranglehold on St. Thomas transportation and are ridiculously expensive. I only take them when I have to get to and from the airport as safaris don't go there. They are notorious for price-gouging, but are airconditioned, which is always a plus.

You can take the ferry farther than just St. Thomas- there are also daily ferrys to Tortola and other parts of the BVI. I spent 90 minutes on the "vomit comet" to St. Croix a few months back. Vibe and I spent much of the trip out on the deck; by the time we arrived at Christianstead our arms and clothes were covered in salt from the spray of the boat. We looked "candied". Sea planes are common, but expensive. Some are quite old- models of aircraft that our grandparents would be familiar with, hopping between islands. A few weeks ago I flew Cape Air between San Juan and Charlotte Amalie- it was an 8 passenger Cessna, with a 9th passenger in the co-pilots seat. Our saftey talk was presented by the Captain, a guy named Mike who was about my age, who just turned around in his seat to tell us what to expect. I was able to watch how a plane is flown, see the panel of instruments. It was an amazing trip- we were closer to the ground than in larger commercial aircraft, so I was able to see some of the smaller islands between Puerto Rico and St. Thomas, such as Mona, that are usually obscured by clouds and distance.

Usually, though, I walk everywhere. I know that I can fit about $60 worth of grocerys in my backpack, and a gallon of water in each hand for the walk home. There are trails all over island, both official and unofficial, that you can follow to just about anywhere as long as you have your water bottle, sunblock and bugspray. Shoes are optional.