Position: 18:19.043N 64:57.609W

Date: Tuesday 11^th March 2014

On Tuesday morning we decided not to stay any longer in St John’s.  Our pilot book told us that just about every bay on the island was in The National Park, which meant only one thing, use of anchors forbidden, use of mooring buoys mandatory.  As our previous log entry had explained we no longer wished to use mooring buoys in The Virgin Islands in light wind conditions, so we moved on to the next island, St Thomas.

Our first attempt to find somewhere to stop was in Xmas Cove, just behind Great St James Island.  It was a beautiful spot, but it was again under the control of National Parks.  Anchoring was not allowed and all the mooring buoys were taken.  Heading westwards we explored a few other coves and bays but nothing was suitable until we got to Water Island.  We dropped anchor just outside Druif bay on the west side of the island.  The bay itself was crowded with other boats but we found space in the roadstead just outside the bay.

In the evening we ventured ashore and found a small trailer on the beach where we could buy drinks.  No sooner had we settled down than we found ourselves in animated conversation with one of the locals.  Ben was an impressive figure with long curly blond/reddish hair and a magnificent beard half way down his chest. He held strong views on most subjects which he wasted no time in sharing with us.  His attack on bankers and politicians was so outrageous, involving global conspiracies that had continued for centuries,  that I found myself, quite involuntarily, starting to offer a counter view.   Before a few minutes had passed I was trapped in a conversation in which I was actually cast in the role as a supporter of the bankers.  How do I extricate myself from this situation?

After skirting through various subjects which amongst others included the existence, according to Ben, of international arrest warrants held against most members of the British Royal Family for paedophile related offences and the need for everyone to hold guns,  he then moved on to praising the views of a certain David Ike. The last time I heard this guy he was on British TV claiming to be in direct contact with aliens on another planet so I suppose I was a little startled to learn that this person’s quite barmy ideas had gone transatlantic. At one stage Ben’s friends at the bar tried to calm things down a little by telling me that Ben’s nickname was ‘Plastic Blow-Up Jesus’.  He certainly looked the part. 

As we took the dinghy back to the boat I reflected on the fact that I had actually quite enjoyed myself, having been, without preparation, suddenly shot from a relaxed chilled out cruising mind state to one where I could have a crazy, outrageous conversation about almost any subject that came to mind.