GREEK ISLANDS – PART 2

We began the second week of our Greek adventure by sailing from Naxos to Mykonos, with the mandatory swim stop along the way. It being a cloudy day, no one was brave enough to test the water. Skipper Jiorgos had caught several nice bream while spear fishing on Koufounisi and treated us to an amazingly tasty fish soup using a recipe of his own making.

Mykonos is a high-end tourist destination much like Santorini. For the average traveller, that has its good and bad points. A walk through the narrow streets is enchanting, with a surprise around every corner, but coffee and tea cost us $14.50! We finished our evening with a lovely group meal at a fancy restaurant worth every Euro.

A typical day on board Serendipity begins with breakfast in the lounge, a small but cozy area amidships that includes a well-equipped galley. The group buys its own food for breakfast and lunch though some passengers choose to buy breakfast at a local bakery. We usually leave port around 9:00 and sail for five or six hours, arriving at our next port of call mid to late afternoon. That gives us enough time to explore the local town on foot and head out to dinner in a local restaurant. Time spent on the water is quite relaxing whether we’re under sail or being propelled by the boat’s 160-hp diesel engine. One learns to just do nothing, something we should all do more often.

Our cabin, billed as a double, is about the size of a small bathroom with a bed narrower than a double. Head room above the bed is no more than 2 feet. The bathroom is about the size of one on a small regional jet and you shower in it using a pull-out sprinkler from the sink. Best to remember to remove everything before you take a shower as there’s nothing worse than wet underwear or wet toilet paper. And, oh yes, before I forget, no toilet paper in the toilet! It has to go in the waste basket, something I still have a hard thing getting used to. For comfort, while it rates above a Central Asian yurt, a swag in the Australian Outback, and some of the places we’ve stayed in Central America and Bolivia, it’s pretty basic.

Day 6 of our journey began with a steady rain that seeped through one of our cabin windows and dripped onto my legs. While far from a deluge, it was enough to wake me up to retrieve a bowl from the galley to catch the worst of it. We woke a few hours later to find that a whole shelf was soaked and some of our things with it, of course. When we docked at the village of Finikas on the island of Syros, a man was waiting for us with a gasket to fix the leaky window and skipper Jiorgos soon arrived with a fan to dry things off. No muss. No fuss. We couldn’t have asked for better service.

This next tale is one right out of Ripley’s Believe It or Not! The couple in our neighbouring cabin noticed a fishy smell one morning and lifted their mattress to find a sardine under it. Two evenings previous, we’d watched fascinated as a group of men fished for sardines with a net cast right off the dock. They used a light to attract the fish and herded them into it with a small boat. Sardines were jumping everywhere and, we guess, one must have been attracted to the cabin light and jumped through our neighbour’s open window. It’s things like these you remember, and they help explain why we like travelling with Intrepid. Expect the unexpected, deal with the problem and just move on…

We made the best of a rainy afternoon in Foinikas and spent part of it in a lovely bakery/café. I keep wondering why the bakery/café model isn’t more popular where we come from. Supermarkets here don’t even try to compete with local bakeries because folks insist on fresh and a nice place to have a coffee or tea. People here know something we don’t. And to top it off, coffee and tea cost $4.50 in Foinikas, less than a third the Mykonos price. That evening, we had a local family prepare a delicious dinner for us and left there with full bellies. Greek food has been amazing!

We took full advantage of our day on Syros, taking the bus into the main town, Ermoupoli, in the morning. Along the way, we saw olive orchards, vineyards and greenhouses, this island being far greener than others we’ve seen thus far. It started raining not long after we arrived, so we had to find something to do indoors. After hanging out in a local café for awhile, we visited the Greek Orthodox Church of Saint Nicholas and the nearby Apollo Theatre. The Theatre, built in the 1860s, operated until the end of World War II when it closed and was later declared unsafe. Restoration began in the 90s and was completed in 2000. We watched from the upper balcony as three musicians (piano, flute and violin) rehearsed for a music festival taking place there this week. We spent a relaxing hour or so there, just listening to the beautiful music and taking in the classic surroundings.

Next on my list was a climb up to the Catholic Cathedral of Saint George, perched on the highest point of land in Ermoupoli. It was still raining when we started the hike up. At the top, the humidity was oppressive, but the climb was worth it, as they always are. The Cathedral is built atop smaller chapels and churches, the first one dating from the Byzantine era in the eighth or ninth century. Ermoupoli, population 15,000, is the administrative capital of the Cyclades and boasts a sizable shipyard. It is a very busy place, even in this, the low tourist season. The wet marble alleyways sparkled, making for a pleasant wander around the old part of town before we rode the bus back to our marina.

The sun was strong and the sea calm as we left Foinikas headed for Paros. After a swim stop, we docked at the main town called Parikia, which has a charming harbour framed by two very nice beaches. We strolled through the typical labyrinth of narrow streets framed with orange and pomegranate trees and made our way to the town’s main attraction, the Panagia Ekatontapiliani, or “church of one hundred doors”. It is said that its oldest features date back to the fourth century AD. We came back after sunset to see the oldest part of the existing structure under the lights. Before that, we watched the sun set over a traditional Cycladian windmill. Not a bad way to end our day.

Jiorgos told us to expect bad weather between Paros and Ios, but even he had no idea what lay in store on our second-last day aboard Serendipity. What started out as gentle rain got progressively worse as we spotted the black skies on the horizon. The wind freshened and we heard a few claps of distant thunder. Just as we thought we were through the worst of it, the shit hit the fan.

Four of us, including Elva and I, stayed in the cockpit to watch the spectacle unfold. Lightning bolts hit very close to us and were followed almost instantaneously by loud claps of thunder. The boat rocked and heaved and the awning over our heads began to leak under the force of the wind and rain. My earworm through the whole ordeal was the theme from Gilligan’s Island; it kept playing in my head over and over again. As the storm peaked, Jiorgos ordered the four of us belowdecks as he tried to keep the boat going in a straight line. The first video was taken by Claire before we were sent belowdecks.

The peak gust hit 66 knots, equal to 122 km/hr, Beaufort 12, a wind speed that would result in a hurricane warning. The short video below was taken by our skipper.

Upon reaching Ios, I got down on my knees and symbolically kissed the dock. To be honest, I loved the feeling of being in such a violent storm. It made me feel alive! To get our land legs back, Elva and I hiked the 3-kilometer trail out to the lighthouse that guards the entrance to the main harbour on Ios. It was a great way to finish another exciting day. Along the way, we got a good look at the private island being developed into a Greek billionaire's estate.

We left Ios early on the morning of our last day, headed back to the island of Santorini where we docked at Oia, said goodbye to our companions, took a taxi to Firostefani, and walked to our nearby hotel, the Ellinon Thea. Both of us welcomed a real bed and our first real shower in ten days. It being my 72^nd birthday, we had a nice meal at a nearby restaurant, where we shared a table with a nice couple from Red Deer, Beth and Joe Benoit.

The Cyclades make for a wonderful trip but one that’s not simple to organize. Those calling at one of the islands on a cruise ship, especially a busy one like Santorini, have to plan their day carefully and in advance. The two other options are to island-hop by ferry or to do it like we did on a small boat with a knowledgeable skipper. We considered the first but decided against it simply because of the logistics: ferry schedules, transport from port to hotel and back, and packing and unpacking. This way, we saw just enough of each island to give us a taste and, with Jiorgos’ help, experienced the best each had to offer. Elva might have been a might cold on a few of the rainier days, but she dressed for the weather, stopped taking Gravol after the first two days, and didn’t get seasick!

 

GREEK ISLANDS – PART 1

It took 22 hours door-to-door to reach our hotel in Firostefani on the island of Santorini where we were welcomed at our small hotel, Remvi Suites, by a smiling hostess who went out of her way to help us get orientated. The hotel hangs on the cliff edge, overlooks the caldera and offers spectacular views of the sunset as it falls over the nearby island of Thirasia. Just outside our door is the “Caldera Trail”, a bucket-list hike that runs from the main center, Fira, to Oia, the island’s northernmost town. A “caldera” is a large volcanic crater, especially one formed by a major eruption leading to the collapse of the mouth of the volcano. Although this is the shoulder season, the Trail was wall-to-wall people on the Sunday afternoon of our arrival.

In land area, Santorini is about the same size as Charlottetown and Stratford combined, not that big really, with a permanent population of about 15,000. It is visited by 2 million tourists annually, compared to the 1.7 million who visit our province. Santorini is one of the chain of islands called the Cyclades, over 2,000 in total, 33 of them inhabited. The eruption that formed the caldera and all but destroyed Santorini occurred about 3,600 years ago and is thought to have been the second-largest eruption on earth in the last 10,000 years.

On our first full day, we hiked the Caldera Trail from our hotel to Oia, a 10-kilometer stretch along the cliff edge featuring jaw-dropping views of the sea far below. Much of the Trail is lined with hotels and restaurants though some sections are barren and rocky. We passed several blue-domed white Orthodox churches on our way. The volcanic landscape reminded me of other islands we’ve visited, Iceland, the Galapagos, Cabo Verde, Dominica, and the Canaries, for example. The countryside is barren and dry, not much to look at really, and I wouldn’t want to try growing anything here. Arriving in Oia, we were surrounded by passengers from the four cruise ships in port that day, many with stickers on their shirts, dutifully following tour guides they probably couldn’t hear. After a refreshment stop at a nice outdoor café, we took the local bus back to Fira. My Garmin showed almost 20,000 steps and over 100 stories, not bad for Day 2!

On Day 3, we walked from our hotel to the bus station in nearby Fira and rode to Akrotiri. Local buses are cheap and reliable, but don’t expect drivers or the fare collectors to be friendly or helpful. They aren’t! Akrotiri has been inhabited for at least 6,000 years and was a major fishing and trading center in its heyday, featuring paved streets and an extensive drainage system. It all came to a sudden end with the eruption of the volcano, burying the city under many meters of ash and volcanic debris. As with Pompeii and Herculaneum in Italy, much of Akrotiri was preserved, and extensive archaeological digs have been underway since the site was discovered in 1867.

The modern excavation of Akrotiri began in 1967. Frescoes, pottery and a few golden objects have been recovered and preserved. A roofed structure covering three acres protects the excavated ruins and allows visitors like us to see and imagine what life must have been like in this surprisingly advanced society. The bigger houses were a full two storeys with an open rooftop area and had their own indoor “bécosse”, a lavatory that drained into a piped sewer system.

We walked from the site to nearby Red Beach, so-named for the ochre-coloured rocks which make up the nearby cliffs. “Beach” is a relative term I suppose since, in this case, what they call sand is just gravel to us. Still, the water looked very inviting and the place was packed.

Santorini is a busy place, too busy really, and we were there in the low season! It reminded me a bit of Bali and some places in the Caribbean: nice but overcrowded to the point where the attraction becomes secondary. And very expensive! Staff in the higher-end tourist establishments are well-trained and friendly but get away from the Caldera and you find the locals to be impatient at best and very rude at worst. I hope our island never gets to be that way.

We took the bus on the morning of Day 4 to the port of Athinios where we met our Intrepid tour guide and the skipper of our sailing vessel, Jiorgos, a handsome 30-something from the Greek island of Chios. We took a ferry to the nearby island of Ios and arrived there late afternoon, got settled in our tiny cabin, and went for dinner with our fellow passengers. There are ten of us in all, squeezed into very tight quarters: 3 are from the UK, 2 are from New Zealand, and 3 are from Australia. Most are experienced travellers and have been on adventure trips like these before.

We didn’t have much time on Ios, just enough to have dinner together at a nice restaurant. After a fitful night getting used to our 56-foot home for the next nine days, we sailed out of the harbour headed for Amorgos, a four-hour sail away. We stopped for an hour for a swim break and I took full advantage of the crystal-clear water that must have been about 22C, warm by my standards. The last leg of our journey was quite rough and a few of us were looking green about the gills by the time we motored into the harbour at Katapola, a village of some 500 souls.

Jiorgos told us that a visit to the Holy Monastery of the Virgin Mary was a must, so eight of us piled into a taxi and drove to the other side of the island. The pure white structure clings precariously to a cliff some 300 meters above the sea. We climbed the 300 steps to the building, entered through a low, narrow door and began our exploration of the interior. Though all of it is not open to the public, one gets a taste of how it must be to live there, a spartan existence, totally removed from society. Only two monks remain, both in their 80s, and one of them proudly showed us the icon brought from a monastery in Palestine not long after it was built in the ninth century. In the August high season, as many as 1,000 visitors per day make the climb. It is one of those places where time seems to stand still.

Next morning, we sailed out of Katapola harbour and headed toward a chain of islands called the lesser Cyclades. Our target for the day was the small island of Koufounisia. It being a very calm day, the skipper didn’t bother to hoist the sails. After the mandatory swim stop, we motored into the small harbour and moored the Serendipity before heading off for a walk along the coast. We walked past multi-coloured limestone cliffs carved into interesting shapes by the force of the ocean.

That evening, we dined al fresco at a local restaurant and I had my first feed of grilled squid on this trip; the biggest I'd ever eaten and it was amazing! The small town of the same name is quite beautiful and many locals were out and about as we walked back through the narrow streets on our way back to the dock.

We sailed past more interesting rock formations on the way to our next port of call, the town of Chora on the island of Naxos, largest of the Cyclades with a population of 20,000 or so and an area about one-fifth the size of Prince County. Chora is the largest town we’ve visited since leaving Santorini and is a much more laid-back and easy-going place. We took a walk through the lower town and located the place where we’ll stay for three weeks after finishing our Intrepid adventure. We took Jiorgos’ advice and dined at a quaint restaurant in the Old Market that reminded us of Le vieux Québec. It was a pleasant evening for a walk along the waterfront and, although the peak season is over, there were many people around.

 

AN ALIEN VISITING THE USA

I watched an interview on an American TV network with Tom Clark, Canadian Consul-General of New York, a few days after Mark Carney became our new Prime Minister. He was asked how Canadians are feeling about the US. His answer: “We’ve been punched in the nose by our best friend, and we’re trying to figure out why!”

We’ve been in Florida since the beginning of March and are observing this dispute between neighbours with great interest. We’ve been spending time here since 2016, and I can’t remember reading or seeing much about Canada in US media outlets. This year is very different.

I made a New Years resolution for 2025: try to understand why a majority of Americans voted for such a major change. I’ve heard the reason why described in very simple terms as “Too much woke, and too many broke”, and I think that covers it for many people. I’m purposely ignoring the character flaws of the man a majority of Americans chose as their President and am instead focusing on the changes he has promised to bring forward.

President Trump has many balls in the air in this country: federal government downsizing, spending reductions, energy self-sufficiency (in his words “Drill baby drill!”), border control, the war on drugs, deporting illegal immigrants, and the list grows every day. He has also disrupted the world order by intervening in very unexpected ways in the Russia-Ukraine war, the Israeli-Hamas conflict, in the NATO alliance, in US-European relations, and even toward the United Nations.

I don’t disagree with everything he’s done and proposes to do. The US shouldn’t be expected to be the peacemaker and rescuer of every ally that gets into trouble as well as the prime defender of Western-style democracy. Americans have decided that their focus must turn inward, for a time at least. And so, geopolitically, this is the most interesting period I can remember, and I fully intend to learn from it and keep an open mind.

When President Trump says he wants Canada to become the 51^st state, what does he really mean? What is his end game, and what does he really want if we resist these overtures, as I know we will?

Our two countries are so different that Elva and I have purposely avoided discussing four potentially contentious subjects here: politics, religion, health care, and gun control. Say the wrong thing to the wrong person and you might lose an acquaintance or, more importantly, a cycling buddy. This year, for the first time, we’re being asked by people what we think of what’s going on. My answer goes something like this: “I’ve made an effort to understand why a majority voted for such a major change and so strongly rejected the old order, I’m following things very closely, and I’m keeping an open mind.” To my surprise, this has prompted some very interesting exchanges, none of them thus far unpleasant.

So, where do we go from here? With Canada being essentially leaderless since Justin Trudeau announced he was stepping down, an unlikely ambassador entered the arena in the PM’s stead, Ontario Premier Doug Ford. He’s the Don Cherry of Canadian politics: direct, plain-spoken, and pugnacious. And we’ve seen the emergence of Dominic LeBlanc and Canada’s Ambassador to the US, Kirsten Hillman, both of whom have proven very effective in conveying our message to Washington officials. Now it’s up to Mark Carney to play the cards he’s been dealt, and that won’t be easy to do during an election campaign that will see him fight to not be the shortest-serving Prime Minister in Canadian history.

I’m not an economist and I don’t know what impact President Trump’s tariffs will have on our standard of living in the short term or the longer term. Most economists say they don’t know either and those who say they do are lying. But here’s an example I know something about.

Our family travelled to Arvida in the summer of 1989 while I attended Université Laval in Québec City. We were there to visit former neighbours of Elva’s who’d moved from Prince Edward Island to the Lac-Saint-Jean region many years before to find work. We spent time with an elderly gentleman who had worked in the aluminum plant, and he gave us the grand tour, explaining all aspects of the production process. 

The name Arvida is derived from the name of its founder, Arthur Vining Davis, president of Alcoa Corporation, an American company headquartered in Pittsburgh. Arvida was founded as an industrial city by Alcoa in 1927, when the first aluminum smelter was constructed. It was known as "The City Built in 135 Days" and described by The New York Times as a "model town for working families" on "a North Canada steppe". The smelter complex at Arvida was the biggest aluminum plant in the world from 1943 to 1975 and they produced two-thirds of the aluminum used by all the World War II Allied forces. I remember that from Grade 5 Canadian Geography!

The Alcoa story helps me understand the whole tariff question and how it will affect Canada and the US. Free trade is a recognition between two countries that each has its advantages and can use these to produce a good cheaper than the other. Sometimes that advantage is cheaper labour, other times it’s cheaper raw material. In the case of what were to become Arvida and the Alcoa aluminum smelter, the local advantage was cheap power derived from damming nearby rivers that flow into Lac-Saint-Jean.

Over 40% of the aluminum Alcoa produces comes from Arvida and, before the 25% tariff, all of that was sold in the US. Now, Alcoa, an American company, must find other markets since the aluminum produced in Arvida will be too expensive for its US customers. How does that make sense?

And with President Trump changing his mind on tariffs more often that he changes his ties, American companies like Alcoa can’t plan. Without stability, they can’t make the investments he expects them to make to bring production home and “Make America Great Again.” President Trump is a very intelligent man, a great dealmaker, and a master of using the media to his advantage but, thus far, I can’t see how his tariff war is going to make things better for the average American. He talks about a period of “transition” before things get better, but I believe he’s playing with fire. The stock market is the best barometer of corporate confidence and it’s not looking so hot these days.

Canada’s response to the threat of tariffs has been the strongest of any of the G7 countries, and the man responsible has done us a great service by uniting us against a common threat like never in my lifetime. Even Québec is feeling more Canadian these days, realizing that the provinces, the territories, and the federal government will be stronger if they work together. Although we know an extended tariff war will hurt us more than it will our American neighbours, Canada is ready for the battle ahead. As Mark Carney has said: “In trade as in hockey, Canada will win!”

Some Canadians believe we should boycott American products and avoid travel to the US as a way of retaliating against an unfriendly neighbour. Has anyone considered what would happen if our public pension plans followed the same approach and stopped investing in American firms? If so, I haven’t heard or read about it.

Both the Canada and Québec pension plans invest almost half their assets in American stocks and real estate. I’m sure the same is true of public service and teachers pension plans across Canada. Look at your own RRSP investments and see what percentage of the mutual funds you hold in them include investments in American companies. Boycotting American products and travel to the US may provide temporary satisfaction but the strategy quickly falls apart when you consider all the consequences of a complete withdrawal.

As for Canada becoming the 51^st state, this can only be a typo…

Elva and I first spent time here in 2016 to get away from the more miserable months of our long Prince Edward Island winter. We’re guests of a foreign country and we accept that. I’m a member of the Canadian Snowbird Association. Two weeks ago, I received an urgent message from them directing me to a new rule issued by US Customs and Border Protection, one that requires all Canadian visitors to apply for or retrieve a form called “I-94”. The order spread panic among Canadians already in the US or planning to come here. The media went crazy, implying that we’d have to be registered and get fingerprinted, or face a fine of $5,000 or six months in jail.

It turned out to be a red herring. The President’s executive order is part of his strategy to control the border and make it easier to deport illegal immigrants. It made us feel like “aliens” for a few days, but the feeling quickly passed. I put it down to the error of using a cleaver when a scalpel would have been better. I pity the poor bureaucrats who must operationalize the President’s many confusing and poorly-thought-out decisions. This was one of them.

Many friends and relatives have asked us why we’ve decided to spend time in a country that has no respect for ours. It’s simple. We worked hard all our lives and saved for a comfortable retirement, one that included travel to foreign countries and spending time in warmer climes. We discovered a lovely community in Ft. Myers and acquaintances who make us feel at home while we’re here. Yes, it may be seem selfish to spend money in a country led by a man that has no respect for us, but that’s not how Americans make us feel; those that voted for President Trump and those who didn’t. We only have so many good years left and to waste four while waiting for things to change would be foolish.

On March 9, we watched the Liberal leadership convention. Jean Chrétien, 91 years old and sharp as a tack, gave a political stump speech more in character with that of a campaigning politician than the elder statesman he is. It was Chrétien at his best, in complete control of his message and of his audience. My father-in-law, Jos Denis, would have risen from his chair several times at the punch lines and pumped his fist. His best line was directed at President Trump: “From one old guy to another old guy, stop this nonsense!”

 

FAMILY CRUISE WITH SYLVIE & CO.

While they were home at Christmas, Sylvie and Ghislain told us about a cruise they were planning to take over March break. The dates fit perfectly with our planned Florida sojourn so, with a few taps on the mouse pad, we were booked to go with them for a seven-day cruise out of Port Canaveral on the MS Norwegian Epic.

After a short drive from Charlottetown and overnight stay in Saint John, we hit the road, hoping to make it to Saint Augustine, FL, in two days. On our first day going south, we try to make it to Harrisburg, PA, around suppertime. Traffic was light the whole way, and we got there with no issues. The next day should have taken us 13 hours, but we suffered through two major traffic jams, and it ended up taking us 16.5 hours; we arrived exhausted at the Southern Oaks Inn at 10:00.

I’d been wanting to visit Saint Augustine for some time but seemed always in too big a rush to do so. I would have liked to visit the World Golf Hall of Fame there, but it moved to North Carolina a few years ago. The historic significance of the place was a draw as well, since the city was the first to be established in what is today the United States of America. The Spanish settled there in 1565 and built Fort San Carlos. While many Florida cities claim to have a historic district, none is as impressive as Saint Augustine’s.

We took the hotel shuttle into the historic district and spent the better part of the day there, just wandering around and taking in the sights. The place is every bit as interesting as Charleston, South Carolina, and Savannah, Georgia. The pedestrian street, Saint George, is filled with quality boutiques and nice places to eat, and the seawall near the fort makes for a very interesting stroll. We visited many of the historic buildings, including the beautiful Cathedral, lavishly decorated in Spanish colours and themes. Late that afternoon, we drove across the Lion Bridge to Anastasia Island and walked the extensive beach there.

We met up with Sylvie, Ghislain, Samuel, Natalie, and Avery at the Port Canaveral Cruise Terminal and boarded the ship just before noon. It was fun wandering around the 4,500-passenger ship and taking in the festive atmosphere. Caribbean cruises are very different from the laid-back ones we’ve done with Holland America. Guests are here for a very different reason, mostly to drink, gamble, eat their faces off, and just have fun! The vibe takes some getting used to, but spending time with family made it very special indeed.

Norwegian is the fifth line we’ve cruised with. In addition to Holland America, we’ve been on Princess, AMA. and Hurtigruten (now called HX). It’s hard to compare the five because we were travelling for different reasons. Holland appeals to an older crowd interested in learning and visiting, Princess offers a similar experience and appeals to a similar demographic, while HX is all about expeditions and nature experiences. Our AMA experience was a river cruise. On Norwegian, we found our inside cabin to be quite small compared to what we’ve had on other lines, but the food was good, and there’s lots for young and old alike to do on board.

After a day at sea, the ship docked at Taino Bay, Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic; it was our first visit to the country known mostly to Canadians as an all-inclusive vacation destination. The DR shares the island of Hispaniola with Haiti, a “basket case” country ruled by ruthless gangs, with no functioning government, where people continue to barely survive in crushing poverty. The shops near the cruise dock appeal to the traveller who wants to spend a bit of money and relax. Elva and I ran the gauntlet of boutiques and attractions and made our way to the center of the city of 25,000 or so residents. While the DR is a poor country, what we saw did not make it seem that way. People were friendly, the place was clean, and the main square was lovely. As always, we were glad not to have taken a guided tour. On the way back to the ship, we ran across the rest of our party, enjoying themselves on the Lazy River attraction.

The next morning, we docked in Saint Thomas, US Virgin Islands. We’d been to nearby Saint John a few years back on a Holland America trans-Atlantic cruise; Saint Thomas is a bigger island that has more to offer. Residents of this US territory are mostly descended from freed slaves who worked the plantations during the colonial period. People who live here are US citizens, are represented in Congress, but they don’t have the right to vote for the President and are not represented in the Senate.

We walked from the dock to the main town, Charlotte Amalie, along a beautiful belvedere which gave us a view across the harbour of the two ships in port that day. The young crowd did a SCUBA excursion that afternoon and came back to the ship with harrowing tales of their underwater adventures. I’m not sure they’ll be trying the sport again anytime soon. And we learned a new word from Natalie: “swass”, an apt conjunction that refers to excessive perspiration in the nether regions, a phenomenon I was to experience every day in the hot and humid Caribbean climate.

After a short sail, we docked early the next morning in Road Town, capital of Tortola, the largest of the British Virgin Islands. After picking up a map of the town, we strolled along the waterfront promenade and followed Main Street in the direction of the botanical gardens. Along the way, we stopped at the pretty Anglican Church to see what it looked like inside. An Ash Wednesday service was taking place, and the lady at the door invited us in. The church was packed to the rafters with elementary school children, all of them in uniform, waiting their turn to have ashes placed on their foreheads. The organ played lively gospel tunes, and the place was abuzz. We were probably the only two passengers of the 9,000 or so in port that day who had the privilege of witnessing such a rich local event.

The botanical gardens certainly weren’t the most impressive we’ve seen but they did provide a quiet respite in a busy town. We had a nice chat with three people from the P&O ship in port that day. The older gentleman had been to Prince Edward Island and was quite knowledgeable about the history of Island shipbuilding. He was from County Devon in southwest England, near the port of Appledore, where many men left in the nineteenth century to work in shipyards on our Island. The first two paragraphs of my book, It Happened in Green Valley, talk about two men who met on the Appledore dock, both of them reading a notice inviting people to emigrate and work in James Yeo’s shipyard in Port Hill. Small world!

After a last day at sea, we dropped anchor off Great Stirrup Cay, a private island in the Bahamas owned and operated by Norwegian. The theme for the day was sun, swim, and lie on the beach. It was a nice way to finish our seven-day family cruise, an experience we hope to repeat some day before we get too old and decrepit and the grandkids get sick of hanging around with us. We said our goodbyes at the Port Canaveral cruise terminal. Sylvie and family drove to Orlando to spend the day at Disneyworld while awaiting their flight to Toronto while we headed to Siesta Key to spend a few hours with friends, Sandy and Bob Mayer, before driving south to Ft. Myers.