SURVIVING CAMP LIFE
Photograph by Bob Shinners (Low Key)
"It shouldn't be this way." That is to say that my campsite at Cinnamon Bay did not live up to the idyllic image that had attracted me to the United States Virgin Islands. The image made me think of a white sandy beach washed by waves where a gentle wind cooled my face as I dozed in a hammock. Instead, this image ignored campsites like mine that were hidden within enclosures of tall bushes and trees not far from the beach.
Even at noontime the enclosures had little daylight. The bushes and trees both dimmed the light and blocked the sea breezes. The enclosures were therefore very humid. After erecting my tent in one of them, I lay down quite sweaty. When no breezes came to evaporate and cool me, I wondered how I would fare at night, anticipating visits by mosquito. Indeed, these unwelcome guests visited me later on my first night.
I immediately reproached myself for selecting the campsite. It had probably been a mistake to let frugality dictate my travel plans. After obtaining a free airplane ticket with my "frequent flyer mileage" points to reach the main port of entry at St. Thomas Island, I reduced lodging and other expenses by reserving a campsite where it would be possible to prepare one's own meals. Every guidebook had reassured me with photographs that I would be on a beautiful white sandy beach rated at the top of any scale.
St. Thomas along with St. John and St. Croix are the three main islands making up the American-held territory of Virgin Islands. The territory also encompasses about fifty other smaller islands, though most people live on the three main islands. In 1493 Christopher Columbus discovered the islands on his second voyage to the New World. Denmark governed the islands until 1917 when the United States acquired them for 25 million dollars to use as a strategic base protecting the Panama Canal. Today luxury cruise ships take visitors particularly to the tax-free shops of the capitol city of Charlotte Amalie on St. Thomas. Visitors also sightsee at the smallest of the three main islands＾St. John＾where slave labor grew and processed sugar on the Annaberg family plantation.
Unlike the other two main islands, St. John makes up much of the national park. Two-thirds of it lies within park boundaries. Offshore its sandy beach is an underwater paradise of coral reef where colorful tropical fish swim. Every night choruses of tree frogs sing in the island forest, while ocean waves make competing musical sounds.
This is the island where I was camping on national park ground for four days. Each afternoon a thunderstorm passed through the area. Everything except the inside of my tent was wet. Mosquito came despite the smoke emitted by "coils" that I put on the ground under trees. The smoke reminded me of the incense burnt by monks in the monasteries of Japan. After my first encounter with the insects, I smiled wryly and prepared for what might be regarded as the TV "survival game."
After my first restless night plagued by mosquito, I was gently awakened by the chirping of birds. I got up and made coffee before making my way out of the bushes to discover the sandy beach. No one was there as I drank my coffee. I returned to my camp as the sun struggled to shine through the branches on which I hung damp clothes and bedding to dry.
Later I gathered wood for a fire with which to prepare an early dinner, and selected a piece of meat from my icebox. While waiting for my steak to grill, I sipped some of the islands・famous rum liquor. The rum relaxed me, and I was unaware of a mongoose peering at me from the bushes. He quickly stole my steak and made me feel stupid. This was truly a game of survival.
I interrupted my camping routine to go scuba diving. At the island's main pier I arranged to take a two-hour boat trip for scuba divers. This was the first time in twenty years that I had gone diving. On descending deeper into the water, I had a pleasant feeling of weightlessness that released my body's tensions. I could see the beautiful coral reef and tropical fish as I clicked the the shutter of my Nikon's camera.
After four nights on the island, I left and registered at a hotel in Charlotte Amelie and . immediately rushed to take a shower. Even though my body was covered with mosquito bites, I was happy in my heart with the camp life. Camp life had reminded me how easy it was to adjust to the comforts of civilization and forget the struggles with nature that had confronted our forebears. This camping experience was also a bittersweet reminder of my youthful years when I traveled as frugally as possible.