You have been awake since 5:30 a.m. and, after traveling for hours, you have finally arrived in paradise. You squeeze into a van with at least eight other visitors and ask to be dropped off at the Crown Bay Marina. Once you arrive you order a pina colada and watch the yachts pull in and out until the ferry comes to bring you to Water Island, a small island just off St. Thomas. So far, paradise is looking pretty good.
Ten minutes later you land on Water Island and paradise starts to look a little different.
The circular parking lot off to your right is more like an automobile graveyard than anything else. The same old, beat up cars have not moved for years; some have flat tires, others are missing tires and still others have become a free-for-all for anyone who comes looking for car parts. Of course, there are also drivable cars parked amongst the wreckage: golf carts, pickup trucks and our very own red station wagon.
On your left, four benches are shadowed by a wooden structure that looks like it is about to fall down. The following characteristics are what make this the most "commercial" spot for miles: the residents' mailboxes, the island library (which consists of two shelves of mystery novels and love stories) and the bulletin board with the "Island News" and ferry schedule. Finally, giant pieces of concrete and cable protrude from the water, the last remnants of the ferry dock after Hurricane Hugo came in 1989. Welcome to paradise, the site of my family vacation every December.
Water Island, only two and a half miles long, is a place of gorgeous beauty despite this initial impression at the ferry dock. It is a purely residential island; there are no stores, supermarkets or hotels. So if you need a carton of milk or if you want to meet someone under the age of forty, you have to take the ferry to the mainland. There is one beach where you can swim and it is almost always empty. There is one main road and two subsidiary roads, and each leads you to one of the island's attractions: the beach, the ferry dock, the marina and the dump.
Every December, my family travels to our house on Water Island. Clearly, the island is a unique "paradise." It does not have a fancy hotel with a pool or waiters carrying drinks; instead, we blend our own pina coladas and carry our own chairs to the beach. But it does have one beautiful beach, clear water and near-perfect weather. It is the family vacation of all family vacations and I love it. But since the phrase "family bonding" can't even begin to describe my experience, let me give you an idea of what I mean.
First consider our house. There is one telephone that we rarely use. So I do not call my friends and they do not call me. There is no computer and no internet. So I do not check blitz. There is one 12-inch television with a VHS player that gets three channels: PBS, the local channel and CBS. So I miss my favorite shows and settle for family videos like My Cousin Vinny and The Rookie.
You might be wondering, then, what we do. Let me explain that, as well. Since there are few families with college-aged children and no social outlets on the island, we make our own fun. You would be surprised at how entertaining and time-consuming preparing lunch or dinner can be. Each meal is a full-force family effort, complete with orders, the cooking process, the table set-up, the food arrangement and the clean up. But eating is not our only activity.
We read constantly. At the beach, on the patio, in the living room, in bed -- always and everywhere, we read. We play cards. We watch movies. We do puzzles. Well, to be honest, I do puzzles and my family watches. Since I am one of those people with pale, pale skin who tends to burn instead of tan, I hide inside and I work on the same 2000-piece puzzle I have done for the last five or six years.
We fish in the marina, swim and snorkel. We watch the cruise boats sail in to dock at St. Thomas. (Trust me, this is quite a sight, particularly with all the lights and decorations glittering at night.) We attend the annual Christmas party with people between the ages of 5 and 75. Even hanging clothes on the line has become a valuable pastime. And, of course, we get tan.
This list, I realize, does not amount to a whole lot of activity. My family vacation is not like those flashy Caribbean vacations with parasailing, jet skiing and partying. Instead, we have an unattractive automobile graveyard, two stray dogs that run around the three roads, a few alcoholics and a winter season population of roughly 120 people.
But I have learned to love this family trip each year in a place where we can let go, relax every day and rarely get bored with our routine. Even though I am literally stuck on an island under my parents' watchful eyes, I have no complaints. I admit, I like this time with them. I like reading with my family all afternoon. I like helping my dad cook the most delicious dinner when all we have to work with is pasta, an onion, a garlic clove and a bottle of red wine. I like reading with my mom at night. Spring break with your friends is an entirely different experience -- a great one, but a different one. To have a set period of time to be with your family is lucky, special and perhaps unique. Our Caribbean vacation might not be conventional, but it is certainly enjoyable -- idiosyncrasies and all.