12/20
After breakfast I took a swim off the beach in Rodney Bay. Living in the Caribbean is extremely luxurious if you’re living on a sailboat. Yes, it is salty and crusty, but even now in the dead of winter you can swim in the crystal clear tropical water all around you, then bathe in the warm sun. My friends and I in the international crew took off sailing today, headed back to the Piton volcanoes and the town of Soufriere. It’s so amazing to be back here with them after twelve days away on Dominica. I love these people and that’s why I want to be here, but still, at 30 dollars per day, this is just too expensive for me to stay. Whatever, I can at least do a few more days and get to know the new crew better. I met all these people in Martinique, for a few days 14 people lived on these boats and all ate together onboard Shalom. (I was cooking hectically for them all.) Then the old crew left, those beautiful souls. One went to Paris, one went to Sweden, one went to Antigua, one went to Colorado… Of the new crew one is from my home of Boston, two are from British Colombia, Canada, one from California and one from France. It’s amazing, except for the captains: Chico, Silvia, Claes…. And except for me, the crew is all new people onboard. Still the vibe from the group is the same, and it’s beautiful, a feeling of love. So it’s worth my money for a few more days.
Happier than ever, I hoisted the sails with them onto the sparkling sea, the weather finer than I could ask for, and the wind blew us south alongside our fleet down the coast of St. Lucia. Other sailboats were running with the wind near us, and soon the immense volcanoes came into view. The Pitons, it was fantastic to be back.
It was a good night there, and in the morning we went to climb the Piton. We needed no guide this time because now I knew where the secret trail was. However, the locals still pestered us telling us we ‘need’ to hire a guide. I know that is not the law, but as we hiked the trail a man chased us down it hollering at us. He said it was private property, his father’s land, and that we need to pay him a ‘small fee.’ He was very convincing and persistent but we didn’t fall for it. It was in fact a lie. Unfortunately many people on St. Lucia are hungry for money, and they’ve told us a lot of “bullshit” in order to get our money. It’s sad and strange that I’ve experienced this more on St. Lucia by far than anywhere else. Seems to be a sort of misguided island, pursuing material possessions and craving development more than Dominica which is otherwise a very similar island nation. I would think it’s hard though, to be an independent country like St. Lucia that is so tiny. They cannot travel far without a passport, and a passport is hard to obtain. They only have St. Lucia, and there is a lot of poverty. They do have what they need though, mangoes in plenty, coconuts, plantains, and breadfruit. They have food, they have the warm clean ocean, the sun soaked paradise, and are healthy. So are they really poor? To some the island is Zion, to some it is prison.
“This is not private land, this is a public trail!” cried the Canadian Park ranger Ann Sophie as we ascended the trail away from the harassing islander. The trail soon becomes ridiculously steep, he stopped following us by then, and the fun filled group of 7 of us climbed the mountain. We eventually all made the top, unlike last time with our bad guide who prevented much of the group from getting there. It’s a very awesome hike, the last part of it you must climb the rock on ropes and I stayed behind with Lou who was less sure of herself.
The view from the top was fantastic as ever, the group excitement was the best part though. Climbing down was harder of course, and Lou had a small panic attack but she overcame it and made her way down. It’s the steepest mountain she’s ever hiked, and probably the steepest I’ve hiked as well. Upon reaching the bottom, we were already making plans to go up it again the next day. The rest of the afternoon was spent in town, eating an incredible huge meal for 13$EC (5$US) at our favorite restaurant Déjà vu in Soufriere. “Why are your prices so low?” we asked. “It’s based on how many customers we get,” said my friend Spice, the guy working behind the counter. The restaurant is so busy because the food is good so they keep the prices low. You’d never see a restaurant like that in the States, I love it! The rest of the evening was a party as always on Shalom.
12/22
In the morning I went with Dylan and the two of us swam completely around the Petit Piton. The massive volcano ends in dramatic cliffs where it meets the sea. The water there, and all around Sourfriere is magical. It’s deep, and glassy clear. The color is mesmerizing azure. To swim in it you feel like you are floating in a huge room. Alongside the mountain, the reef was fertile with tropical fish, and the 40 foot seafloor dropped off steeply to a shelf and into a dark blue abyss. You swim in the shadow the mountain casts on the water, it’s an eerie and hauntingly beautiful place.
Upon swimming over to the open ocean, a powerful current ripped us around the outside of the mountain, but only in one spot where vicious rock jutted out like fins from the water. Other than that there was no current. Still a boat pulled alongside us and the local water taxi driver told us, “What you’re doing is very risky, you’re going to need to take a water taxi back!”
“We’re trying to swim around the Piton to the beach and hike the roads back” we told him.
“There are no roads over at that beach!” he said. Oh, I didn’t even think about that, I just assumed we’d find a road. I kept talking back and forth with him for a minute before Dylan said to me, “Wait that’s bullshit, there totally is road over there I saw it from ontop of the mountain yesterday.” I immediately realized he was right and stopped talking to the taxi driver. I would later learn a sad lesson about St. Lucia, once you hear the word “taxi” spoken, immediately disregard the person and any of their “advice.” We swam the rest of the way around the Piton, nothing risky about it but certainly an epic swim. We got out at a resort on the beach and hiked back on the mountain roads. A car picked us up at some point and drove us back to where Shalom was anchored.
Now it was time to get to work and make some plans. I thought I’d spend a few more days with the international crew and go to Bequia for Christmas with them. After that I’d fly to St. Thomas maybe, because my dad offered to buy me a plane ticket there. He grew up in St. Thomas and my family lives there, so spend the rest of the holidays with them. Then return to St. Lucia to join Jorgen, hopefully, or join a different ARC boat, or possibly find a boat in St. Thomas, anything is possible! However, Claes was in a bad mood in the morning and said we’re not going to Bequia. Okay, well then I probably should leave now, maybe spend a few more days on St. Lucia out of my backpack. However, my mother was taking this camping vacation to Key West… she and my brother were escaping for Christmas. She offered to buy me a plane ticket to come with them. Very kind gestures from both my parents to pay for me to visit them. So after talking to my mother on the phone outside Deja- vu, I went and sat by myself in the dark dungeon-like restaurant for hours making plans. Jorgen’s wife Louise had emailed me back saying they were considering me to join. That’s good enough for me then to take off from St. Lucia, with the hope of returning to an awaiting boat ride in a couple weeks.
I worked on my resume and sat talking with Spice about his career goals. He has crawled out of a life of poverty on St. Lucia, alone as an orphan and living on the streets since the age of nine. Now, he’s trying to work in a resort and thinking about immigrating to Grenada to find a better life. Hearing about his struggles made me realize the privileges I have just from being from America, and it’s not fair. The wealth in this world is so skewed for some places to be in such poverty while others enjoy such opulence. There really is no difference between Spice and me except for a little culture, but we’re all dealt our cards in life to work with. I do personally believe in destiny though. I gave him what advice I could about how to make your dreams become reality. We have a lot of control of our destiny, no matter what cards we’re dealt.
Feeling slightly like a spoiled brat, I purchased a plane ticket one way to Miami from St. Lucia (where I’d meet my mother) then a one way from Fort Lauderdale to St. Thomas. I knew my parents would transfer me back the money. However, all this plane ticket buying and I got myself extremely stressed out when I realized it was 500+ dollars for the one way from St. Thomas back to St. Lucia. My dad’s not a rich man, how could I ask him to pay for this? It all came down on me that I worked so hard to get to St. Lucia, what am I doing flying away from here! This isn’t an easy place to get to. After talking to my mom a bit more, I decided to buy the ticket. It sold out on me! That got me nervous because the price quickly escalated on tickets from 600 to 1200, in which case I’d never get back. So I bought a 600$ ticket and felt lousy about it. It also was about the worst flight possible, LIAT and Windward airways… St. Thomas to St. Martin, layover, St. Martin to St. Kitts, half hour layover, St. Kitts to Antigua, overnight layover, Antigua to St. Lucia at 5:30AM. So I’d tour the Caribbean by air. Great. But I do get to travel all around and spend Christmas with my wonderful family!
That night on Shalom I said my goodbyes to my new family, and to Silvia. They had convinced Claes and were going to Bequia after all. I felt bad to miss that, too late now, and I was going to Florida almost as spontaneously as I had left it one month and a half ago. New crew joined that night, a tall, blonde man named Johan from Sweden, and Spice came onboard to party with us. Then a friend showed up on the beach. They had met him earlier and invited him, his name was Marcel from Chile. He had crossed the Atlantic on a sailboat. I got into a passionate conversation with him about the world and things, and we were friends immediately. It wasn’t long before he asked to join the crew! It was a wonderful night with everyone together.
Always a party
12/23
Today was my free day, tomorrow I’d fly. I relaxed finally. I started this whole go with the flow journey that I’m still on today as I write this in the St. Kitts airport. I swam that morning. I helped cook breakfast and made the classic potatoes. Eventually we went to hang out and use the wifi at Deja-vu. I saw Spice again, but I was sick of using the internet. I felt like moving, doing something. So did Marcel, the two of us saw eye to eye. No one else felt like coming, so we left together and walked into the rain out of town. The mountains so big and cloaked in luxurious rainforests, we walked towards them talking that kind of passionate talk again about nature and the world. We were about the same age, height and build, and both planning to travel extensively hitchhiking and hitchhiking on sailboats or however. He planned to hitchhike from here to Venezuela now that he had crossed the Atlantic, then from Venezuela to Chile to see his family, then to Canada and fly to Switzerland or somewhere from there. I told him my plan to hitchhike from here across the Pacific, then hitch from the east coast of Australia to Perth, then eventually fly to New Zealand or something. Funny that our paths should cross here on St. Lucia, but just for one fleeting day. I found Marcel to be an inspiring person, an his journey plan to hitchhike down South America and then to Canada sounded awesome to me.
So we hitchhiked together, a couple rides in random directions with the goal to hike up into the rainforest somewhere. We asked a guy for directions and he said something about it being dangerous, pointed us one way and mentioned something about a taxi ride…. we took the opposite way! Soon we were up on a trail in the rainforest. It was beautiful but I didn’t have my camera, backpack or anything, just a spontaneous journey. We talked a lot, drank from a crystal clear stream, and bathed in the down-pouring rain showers through the feathery tree ferns.
Hitching rides down we met one guy who asked us for money for the ride.
“How about 10EC,” I said.
“Not enough,” he said.
“Okay, ten from each?” we asked.
“Okay,” as though he was selling a taxi ride…
“Wait, nevermind actually,” I realized the bus only costs 6EC.
“Okay, just get in for free,” he said.
“So this is a free ride?” I confirmed, getting into the back of the truck.
“Yes.” Halfway down the mountain he was asking for money again and when we refused he pulled over and let us out. Yelling angrily and screeching the wheels as he peeled off. Jeez, only in St. Lucia, and I realized it was the only time I’d ever been asked for money before when hitchhiking. We hiked down the mountain with a crazy guy who was ranting and raving about his fear of terrorism on St. Lucia.
“You, from Boston… You, from Chile… how did you both meet?” he asked.
“Good question!” I said. “He showed up on the beach.”
“Well, what are the differences between the two of you?” We looked at eachother…
“He’s from Chile and I’m from Boston and that’s about it!” I said, realizing how awesome that was and what a great world we’re living in.
“One Love!” the man exclaimed.
That evening darkness came right as we arrived in town, after one ridiculous hitchhike in the back of a truck flying 60mph down the mountain with a kid standing in the back dodging the low hanging tree branches. When we got back to meet Silvia at Deja-vu the town was lit up with Christmas lights strung across the alleyway streets. An Italian guy named Antonio was waiting with Silvia outside Deja-vu, and he was joining the crew. He had just arrived from Vancouver, BC, and he brought the rain with him, so we stood and waited it out watching the glow of the Christmas lights in the wet streets. Eventually we made our way home to dinner, partying together, and finally to bed.
12/24
Today I said goodbye to everyone. Goodbye to my new beautiful friend Marcel. Goodbye to Lou, oh Lou I love you! Goodbye to them all, you’ve all lifted me up, hope to see you all again. Finally at customs, Claes checked me off the crew list yet again and I gave him a hug and a very genuine goodbye. Lastly was goodbye to Silvia, a little awkward, sad, touching. Then I went to Deja-vu to say goodbye to Spice. Tom was with me, no goodbye to him yet. His vacation in the Caribbean was over and he was flying back to Boston, so today we’d be airport buddies. The bus driver was another hustler and tried to rip us off, but we wouldn’t be having it, we caught the next one for a normal price.
From left to right starting on the bottom row: Johan, me, Leti, Tom, Lou, Antonio, Silvia, Marcel, Chico, Claes, Dylan, Ann Sophie
Spice and the other girl working at Deja Vu
Tom and I talked about everything as the bus took us far across the island. Out the window I saw hillside farms. I saw sweeping views to the turquoise ocean. I saw spacious vacant beaches and windswept palm trees… lonely desert islands decorating the coast line. Wow, this is a beautiful place, I thought. Soon we were in the airport in the town of Vieux Fort. Now the next adventure begins, a happy one. Tom and I sat on the ground together and relaxed. We waited. We went into the airport and ate some pizza and ice cream. Tom’s flight was delayed and mine was ‘early.’ “Will passenger Michael Swanbeck please come to the gate.” …Huh? That’s me. Uh okay, bye Tom! A good hug from Tom and I asked the lady at the counter why am I so special? Never quite figured it out…
I got on the plane and it took me, of course, to Port of Spain, Trinidad for a 15 hour layover! When I originally flew from Miami to Grenada, after spontaneously leaving the first boat I was sailing on, I had a ten hour layover in Trinidad. To be back here now after so much had happened just seemed crazy and hilarious to me. To think now I had a plane ticket to Miami of all places, this was absurd. I knew exactly the spot I’d spend the night, by the same electrical outlet I haunted last time. On my bench in this grungy airport, in this slummy town. In this country which felt so foreign to me last time I was here… and now… it seemed normal. It just seemed like the Caribbean and no longer felt foreign!
What an interesting trip to bring me back to Trinidad, I took a stroll down the highway for a while, then I sat back down to peacefully do my writing and wait. A crazy homeless type man came and sat down with me to disrupt my peace of course! As usual. He explained that he was here trying to catch the local flight to Tobago to see his children for Christmas, however, he had no money and needed to find someone he could borrow 150$TT from. That’s about 20$US. I sized him up to see if he was a hustler or not, or lying to me… he had his huge suitcase of luggage. I figured he was really going to Tobago. He hadn’t actually asked to borrow the money from ME, so I decided what the hell, and went to the ATM to get money. It was Christmas eve night after all, and here my parents were paying so I could have a plane ticket, might as well spread the love. “God is good,” he said, and I sat with him the rest of the night in that lonely Caribbean airport, as we listened to the Christmas carols playing quietly in the background.
I got some sleep once past the checkpoint in the same spot I had last time I was here. Then I hopped on the flight. Soon I was in Miami, going through customs for the USA. It felt good to be home in my own country. I was in fact very excited when I walked out of the airport into the psycho traffic of the highways here, and I walked along the shoulder of the road and away, crossing under the overpasses, cutting some corners and doing a little hiking! I was to meet my mom and brother and decided to make it easier for them by leaving the airport and meeting them somewhere better. It was HOT outside, Miami is an awful place, why, I wondered, why am I back here? Of all places, why here!? But I was a little giddy to be travelling so spontaneously, to be walking around somewhere different, and so strange that these streets I knew! Today was Christmas day but on November 10th I had ridden a bicycle down this street I was walking on. That was the day I ditched the first boat I was sailing on.
I thought about America, the USA… This hard unfeeling concrete world, this city so loud and brutal, this traffic roaring by that doesn’t give a shit about you. In St. Lucia at the airport you have many people approaching you, they ask if you need a taxi ride, or need an apartment rental, or need some weed or something. You have arrived in their country and truly they are proud to own that land and call it home. This place, Miami, is my country but I’d never know it. The USA is nobody’s country, it’s a free for all. It’s for whoever wants to fight to make a living here. When you step off the plane here all that greets you is the dirty uncaring city and the roaring traffic letting you know you’re on your own. Honestly though it suits me, I thought, as with my backpack I slipped between the traffic to find the alley and the train tracks. I walked beneath a concrete jungle until I was finally spewed out onto a normal city street. I eventually saw my brother as I was running talking to him on the phone. He was running too, and we ran up to each other and hugged outside the Hialeah bus station. What a wonderful meeting and I was so happy to see my mom as well.
From there I drove with them in a rental car. This was their vacation, they were driving to Key West and I was so pleased they were taking me with them. I was also feeling guilty for taking a vacation from my vacation… It was just a coincidence they chose to go here and I had been here one month before. We drove the overseas highway, the same highway I had ridden on my bicycle and I told them all about it. We setup our camp in a crowded campground on Stock Island and we swam in the pool. In the coming days I would eat lots of fabulous ice cream and key lime pie and a few nice lunches/dinners. We took a bike ride on rental bikes and my brother and I biked north, retracing the route of my epic ride. I never imagined I’d be back here biking again so soon… The three of us hiked through the shallow water, to a secret island I had discovered with my brother when we road tripped here together with Amy 5 years ago. We showed our island to mom.
It was only three days and I was saying sad goodbyes to them at the Fort Lauderdale airport. It was a bit of a stressful American airport. Sitting down past the checkpoint I realized at some point along the line I had lost control of my finances. My savings were getting lower steadily and it made me sad. This is too long to not be working, I wish I could just go home to my truck and find a job somewhere. I decided if I have to buy one more plane ticket it will be to Australia where I can try to find work. I saw jobs on the internet with housing working in the Outback… I won’t let myself give up yet, and I won’t let myself go home even though I want to. Talking to my dad on the phone, I found out my book had been rejected by the first publisher I’d tried. I know I’ll have to be rejected 100 times. I was hungry, but too cheap to buy anything, and someone eavesdropped the whole conversation with my dad. They walked up and gave me their sandwich, praising me for keeping up the traveler’s spirit. It was too much, overwhelmed with emotions I broke down in tears. They left, I said goodbye to dad, and laid down to be sad for a while. But I was now going to St. Thomas where I’d be happy to see dad.
In the Trinidad airport and in Miami, I was so full of joy. What was getting me down now was mostly my lack of money. I asked to God, please restore that joy, because I don’t want to arrive in St. Thomas sad. Sure enough, by the time I was walking around my layover in San Juan, Puerto Rico I was joyful as ever. It was dark as the small plane landed at the Cyril E. King airport in Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas. Then I relived a memory walking off the plane onto that perfect tropical island, into the humid night air with the city lights twinkling on the hillsides. I’ve come here a few times in my life before to visit my family that lives here. My grandmother’s been here for 40 years and my aunt and uncle raised their family here. I would find it so interesting in St. Thomas, seeing it from a new perspective now that I had gotten to know other parts of the Caribbean, but also reliving this place I remember and finding I actually know all these streets pretty well. I saw dad at the airport parking lot and was so happy to see him and to be there. We drove to a parking lot overlooking Sapphire Beach and had some time to catch up.
The following days on St. Thomas were a lot of fun. My cousins were home for the holidays so I got to see them and spend New Years with them on the small island of Jost Van Dyke. My uncle took us out in his boat most days I was there and showed us a good time. And of course Dad and I had fun every day, snorkling on incredible coral reefs, sitting in jacuzzis at island resorts, and hiking all over St. John together. A better vacation I could never ask for, really, I definitely don’t deserve all this special treatment! I feel like a spoiled brat to be having such a good time like this. But oh well, God is good, I’m sure life will get hard again soon. The trip in the Virgin Islands went by so fast, before I knew it I was saying goodbye to all my wonderful family. Dad and Meme drove me to the airport and I was off on my own again.
My family :)
I had this one way ticket to St. Lucia, and I sat in the St. Thomas airport staying numb to what I was doing. I just tried to ignore emotions, the fact I was plunging off into the unknown. The decisions were already made, I got on the flight. The airline is called LIAT (Leave Island Any Time) and they were two hours late as I guess they always are. The tiny plane took me to St. Maarten. It landed on the velvet green island with jagged mountains I had never seen before. In the airport I got some Dutch currency, got a new stamp in my passport, and just barely made my next flight. This next plane was even smaller than the last, I’ve never flown on a commercial plane so small. It was a quick hop over to the island nation of St. Kitts and Nevis. Sunset came in the sky and as darkness fell I saw St. Kitts out my window. A long chain of mountains and they plane traced just beside the tops of them. The angle of the plane gave me the perfect view to watch the dusky mountains pass, and the sparkling lights of towns and roads at their base. The plane landed in the city of Basse Terre
I waited there for a longer layover, which became even longer because LIAT was 2 hours late again. I made friends with a Hungarian girl headed for Antigua to work on a yacht. We waited together. After another stamp in the passport, another security checkpoint, I boarded another tiny plane and coincidently sat next to my new friend. A 20 minute ride had me finally in the independent country of Antigua and Barbuda. I said goodbye to my friend. I found my way out the checkpoint to where I’d spend the night in the airport. It was silent, spacious, empty and heavily air conditioned. I was feeling drained. A little excited still from travelling so much, but drained. I hadn’t the energy to go outside and explore, I was now going to get only a few hours sleep. I took out my sheet and sweatshirt, I curled up on the frozen marble ground behind a bench, and I went to sleep.
