We hitchhiked to Cruz Bay but ended up walking all the way up the big hill just down the road from the Westin.
At the top of the hill we stuck out our index fingers, pointing the way we wanted to go, the way the guidebooks say it's done in the islands. A car pulled over and the driver rolled down his window and looked at me. "Cruz Bay," I called to him.
"I don't know," he answered. He didn't realize we were hitchhiking. When we explained we were hitchhiking, he gave us a ride. Tourists!
Liz waits for the bus
In Cruz Bay, we waited next to the ferry dock for the bus that would take us all the way across the island to the other end and down the coast - for $1. It was mid-morning but already hot. Liz waded in the water next to the dock, I waited on the beach in the shade of a palm tree, and Beth waited by the Wharfside building.
The bus ride was supposed to take about an hour but was probably closer to 45 minutes. We went down Centerline Road, over the spine of the mountains. Liz and Beth sat together, and I sat with my camera, snapping away.
A local guy turned to me and said, "There is a nice view coming up on the right." In a moment, a view of the far half of a large bay and valley opened up between the bushes. Houses were sprinkled across the steep expanse. The view appeared and disappeared as breaks in the roadside foliage flew by and the bus wound around curves in the road.
At first I thought it must be Reef Bay, because the driver had just announced the Reef Bay trailhead a little ways back, but then I wondered if the view was of Coral Bay instead. I didn't think that the Reef Bay valley was so developed with houses (no through roads), but maybe it is. And the view was on our right; I expected Coral Bay to be on our left.
Eventually, we descended from the mountains to the coast and passed through the heart of Coral Bay, the little Coccoloba strip of shops and a few other scattered buildings. We had reached the east coast and were now driving south, and it was just a few more miles to the stop we had requested when we got on the bus.
The bus driver hadn't forgotten, and let us off at the driveway to Estate Concordia. At the corner was the Tourist Trap ("best new restaurant on the island"), just a small shack and an outdoor dining area. Liz went up to the shack and spoke to the owner, and I trailed behind. A crown, a plastic shark, and other funky odds and ends decorated the cactuses around the restaurant. He told Liz he was "open until around dark."
Then we walked down the driveway to Estate Concordia. It was sunny and arid and open, unlike the dense, big forest covering Maho and the north shore. Cactuses and sparser vegetation. Tent cottages were spread out on the hillside below the road.
The first great view we got was of Salt Pond Bay, far away down the slope. Then a slice of brown water between the greenery, the inland salt pond, came into view. And as we continued walking down the road, we were looking right along the shoreline of Drunk Bay, stretched out below. And the grand view of the whole peninsula: Drunk Bay on one side and Salt Pond Bay on the opposite side. So we stopped, looked and took pictures.
Drunk Bay (left), the salt pond (brown water),
and Salt Pond Bay (right)
Tent cottages above Drunk Bay
A few Concordia guests were coming and going between the dwellings and a couple cars parked along the road. When we had our fill of the view, we walked back on the road a little way to the wooden stairway leading down, marked "To Registration." Trees shaded the descent.
We asked a lady in the office if we could have a tour of a tent and a studio. She said "sure" and called someone on the phone. Soon a tall, slim, good-looking man with dreadlocks reaching below his waist introduced himself to us as Kent. He had worked on some of the construction of Concordia and specialized in electric power systems.
Kent led us first to a tent cottage. The building was wood-framed, covered with a canvas-like material invented by the developer, Stanley Selengut, and built on a wooden platform above the ground. He pointed out the skylights with the black water barrel inside - solar-heated shower water. Inside, the shower and composting flush toilet were in a separate little wing on the right, the kitchen-living room-bedroom space was on the left, and ahead down the short hall was a door leading to the small deck.
The kitchen was furnished with dishes and utensils, a propane stove, a large cooler, and running water. There was a bed on the main floor and another in a loft, lots of shelves, a ceiling fan, and some mini-fans attached to the walls by the bed and sofa.
Zip-open windows (including one in the loft) and the two doorways at either end of the hall provided good ventilation. In case the windows needed to be shut during rain, screened, downward-facing vents all along the outer walls provided constant ventilation without letting rain in. There was a near-constant breeze from the sea.
The sun heats shower water in the black barrel
under the skylight (right).
Next Kent led us to a studio. Unlike the tents, the studios depend on the public power grid. The one we saw had a long porch along two sides, with a view overlooking Salt Pond. There was a full kitchen, with full-size refrigerator and microwave.
After the tour, Beth, Liz, and I followed the wooden walkway past Registration and around the swimming pool and down a long series of stairs to the Pavilion. We went into the store and looked around. Beth and I bought pita bread for sandwiches.
For lunch, we sat at a table outside, under the shade of the Pavilion. Besides the quiet girl in the store (who looked ill or hungover), we were the only ones around. Peanut butter and banana sandwiches for everyone. Liz made hers on rice cakes. Beth and I used the pita bread. Beth stood up and leaned on her sandwich to press out the banana "wrinkle."
We had a leisurely lunch, with a view over Salt Pond. A friendly cat with black and white patches (like my long-lost Patches) came over for some pets.
Liz was getting a migraine and didn't have her shots with her. She took one of my pills instead - probably less effective or at least slower-acting than she was used to.
I told Beth and Liz to wait there while I scouted to see if there was a trail from Concordia to Drunk Bay. Then we would be able to save a back and forth trip from Salt Pond Bay to Drunk Bay. Instead we could circle around, first to Drunk, then Salt Pond. I took the boardwalk to the Drunk Bay side and went down the stairs to the lowest tent on that side.
I didn't know if it was occupied. I was looking down on the tent and couldn't see the downhill side of it. There was a gate with "Staff Only" access to underneath the tent. But from where I stood, I couldn't see any sign of a path, just steep, brushy hillside. I returned and told Liz and Beth we would need machetes to go that way.
Lunch in the Pavilion
I refilled my water bottle in the washroom. We browsed in the store again, then set out for Salt Pond Bay, about a 25-minute hike downhill. We went down the service road to the trailhead. Liz was dizzy from the migraine and medication and wasn't sure she could negotiate a steep trail. I went down the trail a few steps and pointed out that there were steps made of rocks and we could take our time.
Liz decided the shortest and shadiest way was best (going around by road was longer), so we started down the trail. It was mostly shady, with smaller trees. After walking for about 15 minutes, we came to a branch in the trail and stopped. Then we noticed a sign made of stones on the ground: "Salt Pond" and an arrow pointing left. My first thought was to turn left, but Liz said she thought we should go straight. After a moment I agreed with her. We should passing by the pond somewhere off to our left; the bay is further on. The stones didn't say "Bay."
Soon we came to the familiar wide dirt road that runs from the parking lot to the beach. There was a good number of people on the beach, and not much shade to begin with, so we sought humble shade from the kiosk. (Later we pretended not to notice when a lady shyly came right up to "our" spot and started reading the information on the kiosk. After a minute, she said, "I just wanted to look at this.")
While Liz rested in the shade, Beth and I snorkeled along the right side of the bay. The rock and coral formed meandering grottos underwater that we wove in and out of. Sometimes we could swim over a promontory of coral, and other times the coral grew too close to the surface and we swam around.
When we were pretty far out, we decided to turn back and cut through the center of the bay to see what we might find. But it was barren compared to the edge of the bay.
Liz was still at the kiosk. I asked her and Beth if they would like to walk to Drunk Bay, a one-third-mile trail around the edge of the pond. They agreed, so we picked up our stuff and walked down the beach to the trail.
The pond was wide and calm, with the breeze just ruffling its surface. Liz said, "Feel how warm the water is." Bits of color were sprinkled on the neutral palette of the ground and water: bluish rocks, orangey rocks, scattered purple leaves, red cactus, and patches of green algae along the white foamy shoreline.
The salt pond
Cliffs at Drunk Bay
At Drunk Bay we balanced our way over the carpet of rocks. Everywhere were rocks mixed with coral rubble, and surf crashing against it all. I pointed out to Beth the first stone effigy I saw. We went farther. There were more and more, all over the cliffs. I photographed them, singles, couples, families, animals. We marveled at the personalities portrayed.
We spent 40 minutes at Drunk Bay. We each strolled around the natural gallery on our own, visiting the stone and coral artwork nestled in the cliffs and on boulders. Liz made a human form. Beth made a creature all out of orange and rust colors. "Guess what it is." A turtle. "No." A pelican. "No!" Joe! "Yes!" Her poodle.
Liz was getting really sick from the migraine. So we went back, around the salt pond, along the beach, up the dirt road to the bus stop at the edge of the paved road.
Liz and Beth sat on the bench in the bus stop shelter. On one side of us, a young man had his handmade wares spread out on the ground - I remember birdbaths made of coconut shells. I think they were birdbaths.
On the other side, a man in a parked car was playing a flute. We waited for the bus and stared at the sunny green mountain in front of us on the other side of the road.
The bus took us across the island, back to Cruz Bay. In Cruz Bay we got a taxi to the Westin.
Liz went to bed.
Beth and I went to the deli for dinner - pizza and a sandwich. Walking back down the steps from the lobby, I pointed out a couple of gongolas (I think) to Beth. They were brown centipedes about three inches long. Beth said, before I explained they are poisonous, she was tempted to pick one up.
When we got back to the room, Liz wanted some food and went out. A good sign.
Drunk Bay