Abtnoski Adventure in the BVI: Day 7

Saba Rock, Virgin Gorda to George Dog to Marina Cay

Another day, another early departure. The day dawned overcast and hazy. According to the NWS forecast I had read at Saba Rock, the haze and overcast, as well as the wind yesterday, were due to the passing of a tropical wave. The haze was called “Saharan conditions” and apparently consists of dust from the Sahara Desert that had blown across the Atlantic with the tropical wave. See pictures of the dust here: http://earthobservatory.nasa.gov/NaturalHazards/view.php?id=39210&src=nha and http://www.usatoday.com/weather/walm3.htm
http://earthobservatory.nasa.gov/Features/Dust/

While it was unfortunate that we had limited visibility, the clouds helped keep the temperature down, and we all needed a little break from sun exposure. (see picture)

Following our usual routine, we motored over to our snorkeling spot, charging the refrigerator holding plates while we traveled. Breakfast and coffee, then snorkeling. This time, we were at George Dog, a small uninhabited island between Virgin Gorda and Tortola. The seas were pretty high, as was the wind, and it was almost too much to land the dinghy. After much slipping and sliding and walking over shells and rocks, we managed to tie the dinghy up to some exposed rocks.

We snorkeled a bit, and beachcombed a bit, but it was really just too windy, so we headed back to the big boat and took off sailing to our next destination. We were now on the backside of Tortola, ½ way through our charter, and at last going downwind. And while this made the sailing more comfortable, it also made the sailing hotter which made us even gladder to have the ‘saharan dust’.

Marina Cay is a very small island, which has an interesting story, and is pretty enough. It is owned by the Pussers Rum Company, but I think it looks a lot prettier in the aerial photos than it does from the water or from the land.

Robb and Rodie White purchased Marina Cay for $60 in 1937, and built a house on the small uninhabited island as newlyweds. Their lives were hard as there was no water or electricity on the island, and even getting supplies seemed difficult. There is a photo of the alcohol powered refrigerator that must have seemed magical to them. In 1940, Robb was called to serve in the US Navy. On his return from the war, however, Robb and Rodie separated, and neither ever returned to their island. Robb wrote the book “Our Virgin Island”, which was later made into a movie called “Tale of Two Isles”.

The island IS beautiful, with lush (irrigated) landscaping, and a comfortable beach bar. There is also a bar at the top of the island, and we walked up the pathway for the view. (see picture) When we arrived, there was a woman sweeping, but no one else present. Only a few tables, and oddly, fewer chairs were scattered over the patio. Clearly, the bar was closed.

“When do you open?” Lydia, the only real conversant member of our group, asked the woman. She kept sweeping up the tiny leaves that littered the porch.

“December 31st”.

We took a few pictures and headed back to the beach bar, unwilling to wait 6 months even for a dark’n stormy.

As our supply of Dark’n Stormy supplies on the boat had dwindled, we stopped in at the Pussers Rum store to buy ‘provisions’. As we were checking out, a wise ass informed us that Dark’n Stormy’s really needed to be made only with Goslings Black Seal Rum and Barritts Ginger Beer (both Bermudian). As we were in the PUSSERS rum store, I thought this was a little insensitive. (The only place in the islands we saw Dark’n Stormys made with Goslings and Barritts was at the Soggy Dollar Bar in White Bay, Jost Van Dyke. Oddly, the only place we couldn’t get a Dark’n Stormy at all was at the Moorings Base Pool Bar).

I don’t mean to imply that dark’n stormy’s were the only rum drink we tried. We tested them all, mango-rum drinks, ice-cream rum drinks, rum and coke, and the local favorites the Painkilller and the Bushwacker. But most of these required more than just rum and a mixer, so these were our bar drinks, and we stuck to local beer and dark’n stormy’s on board.

Adjacent to the Pussers Store was a red, old-style British phone booth. Pictures are taken every 30 seconds. To see our group you can go to www.pussers.com and find the red box at Marina Cay. We’re in the hall of fame, or you can find us on Sunday July 5 at 105pm.

As this was one of our scheduled night’s out, we ate at the Marina Cay bar and restaurant (the open one). Our other options were to head to Donovan’s Reef on Scrub Island or take the ferry over to Trellis Bay on Tortola. As it was windy and rough, we chose the short dinghy ride over the longer (and undoubtedly wetter) trips to neighboring islands.

After 3 miserable nights with little sleep, I decided to try the cockpit. It was much cooler, even if, as Ed has previously said, sometimes it would be so windy it would blow your eyelids right open. It was a somewhat rolly night, and, yes, it was hot.

Abtnoski Adventure in the BVI: Day 6

Manchioneel Bay, Cooper Island to the Baths, Virgin Gorda to Saba Rock, Virgin Gorda

Up early and motoring again (into the wind and charging the holding plates in the refrigerator), this time headed to the Baths on the southwest side of Virgin Gorda. A boat high and dry on a reef reminded us to pay attention to where we were going.

We picked up one of about 20 red mooring balls, not too far from another boat. This was the first time Ed and I screwed up the mooring. Our procedure was to rig a line from one bow cleat across the bow (under the anchors) and pick up the mooring pick-up buoy on the other side. We’d string the line through the eye and tie off to the other bow cleat. Where I screwed up was getting the bridle on the wrong side of the genoa furling line and in trying to get it straight, I just made a bigger mess. We ended up using another line to take the load off the bridle until I could re-reave the line correctly.

Then it was breakfast and coffee and getting ready for shore and snorkeling. The crew from the other boat were on shore, but we still couldn’t figure out just where the Baths were or how to get to them. Bob, Kevin and Ed headed off on reconnaissance only to find that, once again, there were dinghy mooring areas, as well as signs leading us to the trail to Devils Bay. Things had changed since the guidebooks were written, apparently.

I think we were the first to take the trail that morning, and we were certainly the only group in Devils Bay. The Baths are piles of large round rocks creating small pools and steep climbs, with walkways and staircases to help the walkers get around and over the rocks. The other end of the trail was a perfect Caribbean beach. Unfortunately, we had left our snorkeling gear in the dinghy at the other end of the trail. We could have just walked back along the ½ mile trail, but nooooo. Ed and I decided on the adventure of swimming back, and I realized that I was more afraid of bottom than I was of the water. Once again, we had the ‘getting-in-the-dinghy-from-the-water’ problem. Ed got in first, and I was, once again, unceremoniously heaved into the bottom of the dinghy. How humiliating. (see picture)

The snorkeling to the south of Devils Bay was wonderful (see picture). We snorkeled over deep crevasses and through narrow spaces between the rocks. Lots of fish and coral and colors and sunlight thru the water making shifting patterns on everything underwater. Soon, the ferries began arriving dropping off hordes of day visitors, and we decided it was time to go. 10 am, right on schedule.

It was a challenging day of sailing, with both sails reefed and the tiltometer going off regularly. Again, we were sailing upwind, tacking into 20-25 kts of wind and 5-7 foot seas. The entrance to Gorda Sound, or Virgin Sound or North Sound is around the north side of Virgin Gorda—a narrow channel between two reefs (Mosquito Island and Prickly Pear Island). Bob and I had words about sailing too close and making the mark, but we got past it pretty quick.

The BVI did not look nearly as tropical as I expected. The islands looked more like they were in the Gulf of California—with cactus and grey, dry looking shrubs. There were few trees, or even tall shrubs, and the palms looked planted, as they were only at the resorts.

My mental picture of the BVI was also skewed regarding the resorts. I think the Pirates Cove and Coopers Island resorts were sort of like I had imagined, but I had envisioned North Sound as a developed and settled area with resorts lining the shoreline and people and sailboats and delivery boats and garbage boats scurrying everywhere. In truth, there were two teeny settlements and an even teenier rock. We moored at Saba Rock, but could also have picked up a mooring at the Bitter End Yacht Club or at Leverick Bay.

Saba Rock is small island with reefs to either side, but otherwise open to the sea and…Portugal?? These reefs extend to the main island of Virgin Gorda and the smaller Prickly Pear Island. The owner of the SR resort is into old outboards and has a small museum in the gift store. (see picture)

It was hot.

There was considerably more development at the Bitter End, (see picture) but even though the islands are small, the resorts felt smaller. There was a bar, a fuel dock, the hotel, a small conference facility, two curio/gift/grocery stores and the yacht shots store. The previous day we had been photographed by YachtShotsBVI—the pictures can be found at http:// for the next 2 months or so. It was hard to get really excited about the BEYC, although it was beautiful.

Dinner on board, and a good windy night. It was still hot though. As usual.

Abtnoski Adventure in the BVI: Day 5

The Bight, Norman Island to the Indians to Manchioneel Bay, Cooper Island

Our first morning on the boat set the pattern for the rest of the trip. Ed and Bob were up by 6am, and we left the mooring to motor over to the Indians and Pelican Island. These are reputed to be wonderful snorkeling, but the moorings were completely filled when we came by on Thursday. We were the second boat there, and we had the morning refrigerator hour done by 7am.



Coffee, bacon and eggs for breakfast, then into snorkeling gear. Lydia stayed behind, helping us meet the National Parks Trust requirements to always have someone on board. Abby and Allison chickened out, but Bob, Ed, Kevin and I snorkeled through some wonderful areas, including millions of minnows, and coral gardens and walls. After we got back I took the two girls back using a float because I thought it was worth it dragging them along.

Back in the boat, after showers and dry clothes, we then we headed off to Manchioneel Bay, Coopers Island, which was dead downwind. It was only 10am. The trades were blowing strongly from the east, right where we were headed, so we tacked through 15-20 knots and 4-6 foot seas. Lydia and Kevin both got seasick, and while I gave them meds, it was a little late. After that, Lydia took charge of the meds and we didn’t have any trouble for the rest of the trip.

By the time we got to the Cooper Island Beach Club, it was past lunch. As always, the anchorage was hotter than the open water so we didn’t want to cook. Unforutnately, again as always, shore was miserably hot, but the food was quite good. We made plans to come back there for one of our scheduled dinners out.

Abby and Allison wanted to snorkel at the reef to the east of the mooring field, so Ed took them over. We saw the blue mooring balls indicating a dinghy mooring line, so off they went. Again, a barracuda scared the girls right out of the water.

Bob took me, Lydia and the girls over early to shop in the little store where Abby actually found crocs in her size and favorite color and a necklace she wanted. I think both Lydia and Allison bought gifts as well. We headed to the bar and our dark’n stormy’s, joined by the boys in time to make our reservation.

The mooring fields were not packed, but neither were they empty, yet the resorts felt almost deserted. We stuck to making reservations for the rest of the trip, but it didn’t feel like we needed to. It was hard to imagine just how these places will feel during the season—would there be lines at the bar? Reservations needed? Boats anchored beyond the mooring field? Hopefully it wouldn’t be so hot.

Ed has found a cooler spot in the cockpit, but again it was a miserable, rolly, hot night for the rest of us. Kevin retreated to the cockpit as well when he couldn’t sleep.

Things I like about our 505 so far include the twin wheels, the normal sized berths, the narrow hallway outside our head (a great place to change clothes while underway), that it’s fairly dry in a seaway, that the genoa winches not in the seating area. Things I don’t like are the lack of a bimini over the helm, the peculiar dodger, the stinky heads. I love my composting toilet! Mostly, it is a lot like our boat only newer, while at the same time crudier and more worn out (it’s a charter boat, after all).

Abtnoski Adventure in the BVI: Day 4

Road Town, Tortola to Water Point, Norman Island to The Bight, Norman Island

After a sweltering night, the grouchy captain and crew had cereal and coffee. This was our first encounter with our temperamental stove, which would frustrate us (just slightly) throughout the entire trip. We finished preparations by getting our floaties, picking out our snorkeling stuff, dinghying over to the bank to try to get the card (no luck yet), and repacking the refrigerator (note to self—pack all the meat in zip lock bags so that when they defrost all the meat juice doesn’t leak all over everything else in the top-loading refrigerator.)

At about 10am we were ready, and 2 Footloose staff came over to get us out of the slip (thank goodness for that). One woman drove us out of the slip then stepped off our boat as we passed close to the boat tied up at the fuel dock. An efficient and, hopefully, less damaging way of leaving the overcrowded marina.

And at last we were off.

It was still hot.

One early mistake was leaving up the peculiar dodger on our Beneteau 505. It had a tiny window in front that you could see out of only if you were sitting at the wheel. The tiny window had an even tinier opening window. And the dodger extended all the way to the bimini, so there was no way to be at the winches and have any idea what was going on with the sails. After we arrived at our first anchorage, we took the dodger down, and put it up only when we needed protection from the wind, such as when trying to eat in the cockpit while on a mooring.

I also had not studied the harbour plans sufficiently and we were a little intimidated by not having the usual chartplotter. We made it out of Road Harbour with no trouble, and maybe by the end of the week the lack of a chartplotter would feel less like trying to drive without a steering wheel.

We set sails as soon as we were out of the harbour, and Lydia was ready with the tilt-o-meter. Because Lydia is the least comfortable on the water, we are letting her decide when we need to flatten out the boat. This trip was a short (less than 1.5 hour) sail, so no one got seasick, and the tilt-o-meter only went off a few times and it was easy to fix (let the sails out some).

Our first stop was at the moorings under Water Point, just outside the Bight on Norman Island. The story is that Norman is the Treasure Island of Robert Louis Stevensons novel, and the Bight was the pirates cove. We picked up the mooring on the first pass and quickly jumped in to snorkel around the boat. It was great.

Lunch, then into the dinghy to check out Pirates Cove and the snorkeling at the west end of the bight. It was our first experience going from the water to land, and it made us very glad we were sailing instead of camping. We got drinks at the Cove while the kids prepared to snorkel. When they didn’t get in, and didn’t get in and didn’t get in, I walked down to hear them bleating about barracudas! I waded right in and swam off, thinking to show the kids that I wasn’t afraid. I saw him. I swam. I saw him behind me. I swam. I saw him AGAIN, about 5 feet behind me, stopping when I stopped, swimming when I swam. By then I was a little freaked out, so I just swam a wide circle around him back to the beach and climbed right on out and sat down in the shade and finished my dark n
‘n stormy.

When drinks were done we piled back into the dinghy, headed for the treasure caves around the point. We tied up to the dinghy mooring line (two small blue mooring balls linked by a line), jumped overboard with the float and split up into two groups. Ed had the kids and they saw a sea turtle. Lydia and Bob and I saw the caves up close and lots of fish and coral. It was fantastic.

But then we had to get back INTO the dinghy from the water. It wasn’t pretty. We all squirmed and kicked and got pulled and dropped into the bottom of the dinghy.

It was still hot.

Back at the boat, we found that a swarm of honeybees had moved on board. After a half hour of trying to scare them off, we gave up and moved our boat to a mooring in the windiest part of the bight’s mooring field. This worked great to keep the cabins ventilated and the bees away, but made it really hard to light the charcoal. We eventually gave up and cooked the shishkebobs in the skillet. It was hot, sweaty work.

When the sun shone in below the bimini, we hung our extra sheets up to provide a NC style shade for the boat. And when the sun went down, the sheets came in, not that it was ever cool enough to need a sheet or a blanket. It was another hot night, even with all of the fans blazing and the wind scoops set.

Abtnoski Adventure in the BVI: Day 3

Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas to Wickhams Cay II, Road Town, Tortola

As Ed, Bob and Lydia are all early risers, we were up early. We sent the boys out to rustle up some breakfast and Lydia called her Norwood friend to give us a ride to Coki Beach and back. After going down and up the steps and around a few blocks, Ed and Bob found the convenience store—which had a great selection of fresh juices, some bananas, and a few nutter butter bars and a piece of carrot cake. Enough to keep us from starving.

At 9am we were on the beach headed into the warm Caribbean waters. We rented snorkels and masks and they gave us ‘fish food’ (we here on the mainland call these things ‘dog biscuits’, but whatever). Apparently the fish are well used to the sight of humans bearing bone-shaped brown things as they swarmed us when we were about knee deep in the water. It was a little unnerving so I headed out to deeper water where the fish weren’t chasing me.

Lydia and Allison and Abby, after much screaming, sought refuge in the really shallow water. Those fish were really persistent, though and somehow got the idea that Lydia was the food source. They followed her everywhere. If they could have grown legs, I swear they would have walked right up to the bar with her. Which is where she headed as soon as it opened, needing something soothing after having to deal with those ravenous fish!

As it was only 1030, there was no food available, so we bought out the bars stash of potato chips and cheetos. Too bad we’d fed all the dog biscuits to the fish, or we might have eaten those as well. Then Lydia put her shopping skills to good use—she bartered for a handbag for me. It’s a Dolce and Gabanna. Or so it says. Bob thinks it’s a fake! I don’t see why designer bags wouldn’t be for sale for ¼ the retail price under a blue tarp on a tacky beach on a small island in the Caribbean? I’m not being unreasonable, am I?

A quick cab ride to the hotel to pick up our bags and rinse off our feet then down to the ferry terminal, where we had hoped to catch the 1200 ferry to Tortola. Good thing we were early, as the ferry was leaving at 1145 instead. Island time really seems to mean, whenever we feel like it, which might be early, or might be late.

Even on the ferry it was hot, though the wind-blown spray from the power cat cooled us off a bit. The girls stayed inside with the AC down below and watched Beverly Hills Chihuahua. Weird. It was very rough at first until we turned the corner around St John and we were shielded from the seas by the islands.


Customs in the BVI is like anywhere else, low level officials trying to act important and necessary to national security. I never joke with these people—I don’t think they’d get it anyway.

Another cab from the Ferry to the Moorings Base. It was not just hot here. It was REALLY hot. Somehow the winds didn’t make it back in to Wickhams Cay II and the air was motionless and stifling. Luckily the Footloose office was airconditioned so we all spent way more time that we needed to looking at the 2 charts on the walls and browsing through the small book exchange.

We had originally asked to charter the Footloose/Moorings 403, but it was not available to we chartered the 433, which had 3 full cabins, and a wall that could make the owners cabin into a double plus 2 bunks, which we thought we’d use for the girls. We were all a little worried that it might be too small.

Two weeks before our charter, we got a call from Footloose saying the 433 had mechanical problems and they ‘had’ to upgrade us to a 505! This boat has 4 equal cabins with 4 equal heads, and a Bunkie crew cabin and head up front. Twin wheels and a big cockpit should be enough for the seven of us.

Because we were doing the sleepaboard, we were told we had a ‘chart briefing’ at the Moorings Briefing Room at 1600, and could board our yacht by 1800. We had a late lunch at the open air restaurant, then drinks and swimming at the pool.

Then, Bob went to get some cash from the ATM on the dock and watched in disbelief as the machine spit out his card, then quickly sucked it back in, never to release it! While everyone had a different idea, it turns out the bank had closed at 3pm (it was nearly 4pm) and there was just nothing we could do.

We went to the briefing, got on the boat and chose cabins. Girls were starboard forward, Kevin was port forward, Ed and Lydia had port aft and Bob and I had starboard aft. All of the cabins were hot (big surprise there) and all the heads stank (big surprise there, too!). We decided to use the crew cabin for garbage and storage.

Dinner was at the Moorings restaurant where they tried to make us feel small and insignificant because we didn’t have a reservation even though the restaurant was never more than ½ filled. Again, it was open air, and it was hot. Good food, though and good service as well.

Back to the boat to wait for Bobby’s to deliver the provisions. Allison asked why we didn’t just call them groceries, as that is what they are. Boaters just want to sound special, so we call things provisions (groceries), heads (toilets), galleys (kitchens), etc. Lydia and I packed away the food while the kids showered. We discovered the AC ‘spa showers’, and then headed back to the boat to try to sleep.

It was hot.

We tried putting up the ‘wind scoops’ but, as the name implies, there must be wind TO scoop before these would be of any use. The Footloose Dock is closest to the road at the end of Road Harbour and has the least wind. It might be worth paying for a Moorings boat just to get some wind that first night. I’m not sure I’d do the sleepaboard and actually try to SLEEP aboard in the summer. Next time, if there is a next time, I’d lean toward arranging the provisioning and paying for the sleepaboard and then getting a room at the Mariners Inn anyway. That way you get to leave early, though I guess you could just pay for a whole additional day…

Abtnoski Adventure in the BVI: Day 2

Cottonville, NC to Charlotte Amalie, Thomas, USVI

One of our rules for this trip was that in order to keep anxiety to a minimum we had to cater the worries of everyone. That meant we needed to be at the airport 2 full hours before the flight as SOMEONE was worried about it. Since our flight was at 715 am, and it would take us an hour and a half, we really did leave the farm at 345am. I thought this was remarkable, as we got up at only 330 am and everyone was ready.

We met Bob at the Delta counter (he had driven up from Anniston the night before—Delta wanted to charge him $1000 to change his ticket so he could catch the SAME FLIGHT in Atlanta rather than having to start the trip in CLT. Delta would even have sold another ticket to Atlanta for Monday morning. As it was they lost that sale and Bob took Airtran down. Their loss.) The flights were uneventful, which is the best that can be said about air travel.

We arrived in St Thomas to sunny skies, and sweltering heat. We had a long wait for the luggage and a longer wait for the toilet. Some young women had decided they needed to change IMMEDIATELY into their sundresses, which for some reason took them each about 15 minutes (whatever could they have been doing in there??). They did look nice when they came out, but when there is only one toilet and a long line, I personally didn’t think it was worth it!

Travel around St. Thomas is just like everything else there—expensive. There is no public transportation. Walking is dangerous and hot. You can either rent a left-hand (US style) drive car and drive on the left side of the road (UK style), or, you can hire a cab. These are also left-hand drive, but the cabs seem less restrained by the rules--they tend to drive on whatever side of the road makes them happy. And at great speeds, too. Cabs charge per person by distance and I think over the course of our 4 days in Charlotte Amalie, we paid the mortgage on at least one cab drivers house.

The Green Iguana, our hotel for our first and last nights on St. Thomas, is a funky hotel about 1/3 of the way up the hill behind Charlotte Amalie. The rates were reasonable, the rooms clean, and we were allowed to add airbeds to the rooms so the kids could share with the parents. Small kitchenettes in the rooms; a nice patio outside with a little breeze; a partial view of the harbour; and a hallway behind a locked gate where we were allowed to leave our luggage after checkout.

Having missed lunch, we headed downtown, which was literally DOWN, to find something to eat. We walked down the 99 steps, which really number 102, and which are then followed by another 46 steps that are apparently not important enough to rate an entry in the tourist guide books (the “99 steps” sounds memorable—the “148 steps” just sounds like a darn long hike up a very steep hill.)

We passed a small park, brightly colored old buildings in the island style, lots of long-legged chickens strutting about and a classic Caribbean style US Post Office. Down a long street full of jewelry shops and watch shops (do people fly down here just to buy Rolex’s? WHY??). But it was too hot and we were too hungry, so we headed to the Green House Restaurant on the waterfront for drinks and snacks.

The St. Thomas waterfront is beautiful, but could use some urban revitalization. The waterfront itself appears to be public space, but there is a busy, crazy highway between the business district and the somewhat unimproved waterfront. The GreenHouse was set back a bit further behind the taxi stand.

The GreenHouse was open air, but at least it had a roof to keep the sun off and some ceiling fans spinning uselessly up near the ceiling. It was hot. Cold drinks helped and everyone had something to eat. The kids had ice cream while the cabbies tried to talk us into taking their cab…somewhere.

One driver asked Lydia where we were from.

“North Carolina”.

“I used to live in NC. Stanly County” he said.

Merles’ farm is in Stanly County. Lydia graduated from Stanly County High School. Her jaw dropped.

“Where?” she said.

“Norwood”

“No way”. And off they went talking about the pizza place and the stores in town and trying to figure out if they knew anyone in common. It was surreal. Stanly County only has 60,000 people.

Ready once again to tackle the shopping district, we headed back downtown. Unfortunately, it was 5pm and the sidewalks roll up at 5pm, or more precisely, as soon after 430 as they can get away with—probably the only time Islanders are EARLY for anything. The black coral jewelry store was the only store that seemed happy to have us in at 450 so we spent a half hour there.

We headed to the tourist market at the park just as they, too, were closing up. Lydia bought Ed a wedding ring (it was about time—they’d been married for at least 18 years!). Actually, Ed’s old ring was…damaged, to put it nicely, and the new one has a cool spinner part that allows for infinite fidgeting.

We then headed back down the waterfront to a restaurant we had seen with tables on the second level. But the outside tables had seating for only 4 (we were afraid 7 of us might bring the whole balcony down) and the inside was way too hot, so we adjourned to the Green House once again. Following our meal, we headed back up the 148 steps to our hotel.

It was hot.

Abtnoski Adventure in the BVI: Day 1

Holly Springs, NC to Cottonville, NC

The first real day of our vacation was a little different than usual. Bob had flown to Alabama to see his mom (she was in the hospital with breathing difficulties), and we were set to drive to Lydia’s mom’s house in Cottonville, NC. Cottonville is a crossroads a little SE of Norwood and about 1.5 hours from the Charlotte airport.

Thinking to save a little money (when traveling with 7 people a few hundred dollars a ticket adds up), we had bought tickets from Charlotte to St Thomas, USVI. So Monday night was a visit to Merle Boone’s farmhouse.

The farm is in rolling foothills of abandoned and working farms where change comes slowly, if at all. We passed through Carthage and Troy on our way there, and Lydia asked me if I’d ever been to Mar Mountain. I replied that I had not, somewhat surprised that I had never even heard of it. I asked if the mountain was named after Albemarle, a nearby town, and Lydia looked at me like I’d lost my mind. I clarified by saying, slowly, “Is Mar Mountain really spelled Marle Mountain?” Lydia replied just as slowly, as though I were the one who didn’t understand English, “No, it’s M-O-R-R-O-W”. “I’ve been there!” I replied, happy that I could now place this state park on my mental NC map.

We visited with Lydia’s sister; the kids drove the golfcart wildly and ran races over the hay bales; we had pizza for dinner. I slept in Lydia’s old room with her Peter Frampton Albums and HS Diploma. It was a wonderful and relaxing way to start a vacation.

There were two possibilities for naming this trip, combinations of the last names of the two families--I settled on Abtnoski over Stepnabtski.