Save the best ‘till last - always a good idea when eating, and, it turns out, when cruising. Especially with the news we got later in the day but we’ll ignore that and hope it goes away.
Our last day is another tender port, this time we’re at Jost van Dyke, which despite the rather Dutch sounding name, is actually a British Protectorate and one of the many islands in the chain we know as the British Virgin Islands, although apparently their proper name is just “Virgin Islands” but that could get confusing with the US Virgin Islands. JVD is only three square miles, which sounds tiny but we didn’t think that at the end of our walk.
We land at Great Harbour which is a ridiculously picturesque little bay and the focal point of the island for most visitors, it’s where two of the island’s three jetties are, and it’s where the majority of the bars, houses and inhabitants can be found. Not that there’s many, 298 at the last census, and they are Britons.
Although it’s tiny it’s a famous place and quite a party scene - America is just across the straights in the form of St Thomas one of the USVI and very many wealthy yatchers sail over to revel at the beach bars here. We’re not here to party however so we hit the road (there just one, and we later discover its probably about three miles of concrete, the rest is just a rough track) and we’re heading west towards White Bay, which is where Odyssey is parked, alongside Seadream II, a very small ship of 112 passengers.
We wander the length of the beach, and then head up into the hill aiming for the most westerly point on the island. The best laid plans are soon thwarted though because this path is so overgrown, and a treacherous scree slope, our progress is extremely slow, and eating into our allotted time-frame. So after half a mile we abort, but not before we secure a fabulous shot of the ship from above.
Returning to the “road” we head upwards and follow it round as it winds it’s way along the backbone of the island. Every turn brings a new view of wonderful coastline and in the distance other Virgin Islands and the USVIs. Our path climbs and climbs, only to the drop hundreds of feet before turning and then climbing again, it’s the soundtrack of the entire Caribbean - being only 5 million years old there’s no rolling hills here, only rugged and dramatic extreme topology. At one point we pass some huge boulders of volcanic rock, hurled onto the hillside during some previous upheaval like giant cannon balls.
Our next climb is possibly the hardest of the entire two week holiday. No longer a dirt road this is just a goat-track, impassible by any kind of vehicle. We decide that elevenses will be served at the top, a kind of carrot and stick situation. By 12:15 we’re enjoying our elevenses with the most amazing view back to Great Harbour some 270 meters below us - just incredible.
Walking this path is a nature-lover’s delight, we have butterflies by the thousand, dozens of goats, the occasional stoat or weasel (not sure how to tell) and countless crickets which seam fearless - one poses for photos, but mostly they just launch themselves at us, it’s quite a surprise at first! Nature has more to say as I accidentally brush past a plant I can only describe as Razor Wire Plant - it lacerates my legs, and then leaves it’s seeds firmly stuck in me, extracting each one draws more blood! Happily I’m a good clotter and no lasting damage is done.
On the subject of damages, this island was very badly hit by storm Irma in late 2017, it took the UK over a week to respond, meanwhile its citizens were suffering badly with almost no resources at all. The remains of the devastation is still evident from the roofless police station and church, to beached boats and rebuilding generally.
Plodding on slowly, the route starts to descend steadily to the east of the island, with views this time to the smaller Little Jost van Dyke which is cut off from the main island by a small, strip of water. At the end of our path we see our first humans in over three hours. We follow the coastal road back round to Great Harbour, having covered over nine miles in the scorching sunshine, and are relieved that a tender is just entering the bay as we arrive, within minutes we’re heading home for the last time.
A well earned lunch and we’re down to five aft again, there’s photos and a bit of work to do, but the most important job is firstly to get in the pool for a while, and secondly to watch the marina in action from above. Regular readers will know this is a bit of metal that lowers down to form an activity centre - kayaks, pedaloes, banana, sofas (donuts in English) and other water sports are run from here once per cruise. By the time we arrive the paying customers are gone, but it’s time now to let the staff play, and the officers take great pleasure in terrorising the crew just like they did me several years ago when I went on a donut - a great experience!
Later all is winched in and packed away, and we’re revving up to leave the BVI and head back to our starting destination, Sint Maarten, from where we fly home, via JFK. Here’s the bit we’re not pleased to know - a weather warning for NYC and the surrounding area could mean our flight is cancelled. Our chronies Patricia and Steve have already booked a couple of nights on the island and postponed their flight back home to NY, NY - it’s easy for them, time means nothing, whereas we really don’t want to get delayed thank you.
Another Epicurean event tonight is followed by the staff parade around deck nine, shame it’s pretty dark for this, it’s much better when the nights are lighter. Then we start packing our bags in anticipation of saying goodbyes, with a G&T to aid the packing of course. Our last dinner in MDR is lovely, we both have tenderloins (or fillet) one each of pork and beef, and make our goodbyes to a few staff we’ve got to know over the years.
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