Utopia Threatened

The bright sunshine woke me up early this morning promising another glorious day in paradise, or so I chose to believe. Mervin was coming by to pick us up so go into town to get our food supplies. A light quick rain soon followed. Rain MUST always be welcome when you are living off the land and need water to drink. We need to now make sure we store the water in the reservoir properly this time.

The mosquitoes were the last straw for Eddie. He is not happy living here. I came to the conclusion today that to avoid disappointment, I need to not hold too tightly onto plans. Promises are a difficult thing to keep and my disillusionment in promises reached epic proportions today. Eddie’s desire to move has been growing. He would rather live at Brewer’s Bay, the campsite that we started out living in. He doesn’t want to rough it anymore.

After a painful boat trip to Brewer’s Bay, the owner of the campsite, Styles, greeted us. He informed us that where we were living, Rogue’s Bay was illegal and not only did he know about our residence there, but so did fishermen.  He added that before we got any deeper and were deported by the tourist bureau, we should get a place to camp with him. It seemed like a sales pitch to me, but Eddie was taking it as ‘friendly advice’. My reaction was to head back to our bay and stop talking to him. He knows too much about us and his motives aren’t friendly. Everyone else told us it was legal because the British Crown believed that no one can “own” the beach. Even Mervin, who works for conservation for Tortola said it was ok. Mervin told us about the bay when we were looking for a destination. I trust Mervin.

Eddie wanted to move and I was beginning to feel that Tortola was the wrong destination for my dream of living like an Indian.  I blamed Eddie for bringing me to this island, since I originally had reservations about the surfing here and he had talked me into it. He said the most important thing was we were together, but I wanted my dream. Fiercely. Kim (the girlfriend of Dillinger) was moving and selling her car. Eddie wanted to buy the car and sell our boat and move into Brewer’s Bay. My dream was falling apart before my eyes.

Paul, a man who had been living on the campsite for 2 years, who I had met briefly a few days earlier, came to chat with us as we tried to call the boat shop to inform them the motor wasn’t working properly.  When we found out the boat shop was closed for the pending hurricane that was coming down from Texas, Paul invited us to his campsite. I was rattled by all the troubles that were bombarding us. Eddie and I chose to interpret everything the opposite, though I do admit, he was trying to rescue and protect us. We were not getting along. Something ominous did seem to be happening and I didn’t feel like being social.

But arriving at his campsite was what I needed to experience. Paul’s ‘campsite’ was magical. It was unexpected and unlike anything I had ever seen! The long path to his site was lined with conch shells and cultivated shrubbery that looked wild and tropical. He had three tents, one for the master bedroom, one living room and a guest bedroom! Each pathway to each tent had a manicured pathway. The master bedroom had a king size bed with satin sheets. He didn’t actually have a toilet per se, but a bathroom to put our shower to shame. He had an incredible garden in which he grew string beans, tomatoes, spinach, succulents and many exotic flowers that eventually made it into the pathways. It looked like a jungle, but felt like a peaceful zen garden. There was a wicker couch in the living room. The kitchen couldn’t be more deluxe: a dining table with homemade candelabra, a tree that had every imaginable utensil dangling from it and a refrigerator! He had tapped into electricity and had lights, which had lampshades made from gourds/calbasa fruits that were hand painted with hibiscus flowers by his wife. He even had a radio and cable tv! Even though they were modern conveniences, which I have chosen to abandon, what he had created out of normally discarded items was amazing to behold!

Paul is such a crazy dude! He informed me when we first met, that he was a ‘nudist’ too. Did I mention he is about 60 years old? He lived on an island in Clearlake, California for 20 years and had to move to a warm climate for health reasons.  He told us that “just because you don’t want to live in what other people call so-called reality, doesn’t mean you have to live without the comforts of life.”  These words rang in my ears like a sign of some sort. He also told us that Dillinger was a thief (no surprise) crack addict(big surprise)! Paul said he moved all the way to this island to get away from that same problem of a drug-addict neighbor, only to find it next door again!

It was a treat to visit his campsite and gave me a needed break from my drama and an emotional lift. I said to Eddie that it should be in an issue of “Better Homes and Gardens” and he replied, “Better Campsites and Treehouses”.

We got a ride into town to get our supplies and got into a horrible fight. The worst fight we ever had and I decided our relationship was over! How could this be happening? Tears and pushing, hitting and chasing followed! It seemed something terrible was evoked and we were headed to total separation. It was over the concept of living off the land. We wanted different experiences and neither of us wanted to budge or compromise. I also think we adore each other and don’t want to have opposing desires. How tragic!

We hitched a ride back to Brewer’s Bay. (did I ever tell you this was a dirt road?) and we shoved close together by the jostling of the steep and narrow hills on the only road to this side of the island. When we returned, Eddie and I began tot madly kiss each other as it evolved into passionately aggressive sex. Post-coital, we began to talk about our near future. I wanted to return to Rogue’s Bay and he wanted to stay at Brewers. It was a gigantic dilemma and at our climax, the hurricane hit. The rain was unlike anything I had ever seen! I cried in the rain, while Eddie found shelter in a tent.

I felt so lost, not knowing whose voice to trust. I wanted to live off the land. I believe no one can own the land, it being Mother Earth and she is a living entity. If it was illegal to live in Rogue’s Bay, then was willing to practice the Thoreau’s philosophy of Civil Disobedience and accept the consequences?  Was willing to make a political point? Should I live out this journey alone? The journey of completely abandoning society and all that I believe hurts the earth? This is the single most difficult moral predicament I have ever faced. I cried and begged for Heaven’s mercy. Eddie came out of the tent to bring me in with him. We made the most tender love all afternoon. At this crazy moment, we decided to get married! The rain kept us in the tent and we cuddled close. It was extremely romantic and I decided tonight to give my exhausted heart and soul a rest before I decided which direction I would follow. Or should I say, lead?

Mosquitoes

Apparently I haven’t read every survival book, or at least properly. We should have covered the water reservoir because we apparently created the perfect storm of mosquitoes. They have appeared at an alarming rate. They devoured both Eddie and my feet the first few nights in Brewer’s Bay, but we eventually stopped scratching. They didn’t exist on Rogue’s bay until we unknowingly left our water out to create the perfect habitat for them.

This prohibits us from doing anything outside of the ocean or secure tent. They have become an enemy army. First they attack with their whiny little buzz in your ear. Then, I search for them flailing my arms everywhere. I usually end up hitting myself really hard without harming these evil creatures from hell.

Earlier, I tried a different approach that proved catastrophic. I decided to try mind control, using the mind body connection. So many people claim that these beasts do not bite them. It worked very well in the sense that I am now the most bitten person I have ever seen.

The day was spent running from them and the night is spent trying not to grab a fork and beginning scratching with this utensil. The worst part is: I don’t know how to end the agony. I do not want to compromise and use chemicals. Substances like OFF damage the oceans, rivers, forests and our bodies. I wont use it.

These chemicals are against all that I believe in and use of them supports my theories of how people became separated from nature. I understand its all for some comfort. We search to soothe the mosquito bite now and use some chemicals that damage the earth in their making and are carcinogenic to us. We sacrifice nature for our comfort. But if I compromise my philosophy now, then the line will continue to move until I don’t have anything that I believe in or stand for.

There must be some natural substance that can heal these bug bites. There is always a plant for everything.  I wish there was a medicine man on the top of the hill that had all the knowledge of his previous generations to impart all the plant remedies that they had come to know. I would like to compile a book of all these remedies. I wish I knew the lesson to learn from this. Who could have imagined that mosquitoes would be our fiercest enemies? 

Building a Fire from Scratch

I am a disaster in the kitchen! Any kitchen. In the past, I have survived on restaurants and I am ashamed to say, take-out food. I am feeling guilty because take-out food is responsible for so much waste. If I ever return to urban life, I will either dine at the restaurant or carry my own container for take-out. 

Living this lifestyle, I have come to realize eating is one of the most important things we do in our lives. For Eddie and I, the act of eating consumes most of our days: gathering and preparing our meals and properly disposing of our waste.  Of course, in the urban life, we rush around eating “bars” and in our cars. Eating is a nuisance in our minds. In reality, what we take into our bodies is the most sacred thing we can do. We are what we eat, what else could we be?

This may not sound like the biggest deal, and it isn’t compared to the other fears I will face, but I decided to take it on. I panic at the thought of cooking. I do, however, like the idea of preparing food to nourish my loved ones and me. I really don’t know the source of this fear or what cooking represents to me, but I fright at the thought of me at a stove. Eddie always cooks. Always. He is a delicious cook and

When I met Eddie, he didn’t mind my lack of talent as a cook and shared his gifts of gourmet-natural cooking.  Mostly he teases me or encourages me to learn to cook. I am thrilled with his delicious talents and could live happily eating his cooking and no other for the rest of my life. However, I would like to experience the spiritual element of nourishing myself. I already have grown psychologically from the act of gathering my own food. Today, I decided to face all these fears and learn to cook. I am afraid.

This morning I gathered many branches of different sizes and I built a structure that became my fire.  It is astonishing that this fire is the sun’s energy that was stored in a tree, now released. I put a pot of oats with water from our water supply and made a cereal that fed both Eddie and I. It was unremarkable in everyway, except that I had made it. In fact, it is what we have eaten most mornings, with fruit that we gather.

Eddie doesn’t like all the work involved in building the fire, nor the smoke it produces and often longs for a camping stove, but I find it a significant part of our lives down here.  I like the idea of all the time and work it requires. It feels healthy and natural, as I watch animals around us do the same thing. I watch the pelicans soar over the water, following a fish until it dives down into the water. It bobs up to float on top of the water without a fish. He immediately flaps his wings to take off in flight to try again. It is perfect.

Building a Shower

The sun came out and we had survived our first storm. The rain finally stopped sometime during the night. We slept a few hours and woke to find our little campsite trashed. All of our belongings were scattered all over the beach. There were a few pots floating in the ocean.

The good news is the reservoir was full and still intact and we now had plenty of water. We also don’t have that many things, so we were able to clean up in less than an hour  (though I was not looking at a watch).

Eddie began to build a sheltered area next to our tent.

The storm awakened an opposite side to my personality. Just because I wanted to leave society and be submerged in nature doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy luxury. It is true that because of my bohemian childhood, I am comfortable sleeping on the ground. I also have traveled throughout the Middle East, performing for very wealthy Arabs that exposed me to comforts that were lavish beyond imagination.  Having a taste of this decadent life left a significant impression on me that it’s essential to have a bit of indulgence in my life.

I am in the ocean almost all day long. Being in salt water and so near the beach, nothing is ever truly dry, including my hair.  The salt water dries out my skin and having a freshwater shower from standing out in the rain yesterday felt so refreshing.  It made me crave to go to a spa. Sometimes you necessity is the mother of invention and you have to get creative with the materials you have. I have plenty of water, so I decided to make a shower with warm fresh water. 

I didn’t want to interrupt what Eddie was working on, so I set out to create a spa day on my own, not realizing what I was getting myself into. He just laughed at me as I went off with pots and pans.

My first idea was to scoop the water directly from the reservoir, thinking that is would be warmed by the sun, but it was tepid. Then, I boiled some water on the stove and carried it up to the little area I made for the shower. This didn’t work because it was very hot and came out too quickly.

My next idea was great, but would require some specific equipment that might ruin some of our food supply. My plan was to poke holes in some cans, then heat water in a pot to a nice warm temperature over the fire. Then pour the water into the cans hung them from a rope suspended from a tree and the water would come out more slowly and warmly.

Just as I was about to empty all our bean, tomato and veggie cans, Eddie came by to ask what mischief I was up to. I enthusiastically shared my grand spa idea. He agreed that it would work, but said that he would help me do it once our cans were empty from eating them. My glorious shower would have to wait. ?At this point, I had to do a beauty treatment, so I deep conditioned my hair and gave myself a facial with some of avocadoes.  

Rain

I am humbled by nature and feel vulnerable by its splendor.  We are having at the moment our first heavy rain that lasted more than a few minutes in length.  I was excited to see the clouds getting darker and growing closer together. I welcomed the rain to fill our newly built reservoir. I just didn’t expect what was to follow.

When the rain first began, I stayed out in the open and danced in it. I celebrated and loved feeling the freshwater on my body.  I filled up all our jugs with water very quickly from our water collection tarp. I crawled into our tent and snuggled up to Eddie. It was romantic and felt like a Sunday afternoon. But the rain kept up and we had nowhere else to go. After what seemed like an eternity, we wondered if it would ever stop.

We were getting hungry and didn’t plan for cooking during the rain. We knew our natural cooking area with chimney wouldn’t light during this heavy rain, but perhaps the stove with a lighter would. We had planned to create a sheltered area beside our tent, but hadn’t created it yet. Whenever we wanted shade, we sat under a palm tree, but that is not protection from the rain.

We decided to build a sheltered area now. The wind was picking up and starting to howl. We had the waterproof tarp to use from our water collection, but the sticks used to prop it up were very low to the ground. We wanted to be protected from the wind, but the wind seemed to change direction all the time.  We were in the middle of a tropical storm.

We decided to go back into the tent. It appeared to be dry and sturdy in the ground, but there was no way to escape the blowing winds. We feel so vulnerable. How different our entire campsite seemed from just this morning in the sunshine. We were not in control, that much was clear.

It is impossible to sleep during the storm. Your body goes into to survival mode and the adrenaline is pumping. I am still awake.

Surfing in the Caribbean

Sometimes a girl just wants to have some fun. I wanted to surf today, but I couldn’t have planned today anymore perfectly. After yesterday’s conversation, both Eddie and I needed today. We have been going non-stop since we arrived in the BVI. In the beginning I was pushing so hard to find this beach (which was worth it!)  Then all the hard work we have been doing building our shelter, building water contraptions and all that is required to living off the land. Of course, I am living the life I wanted, but Eddie was starting to get worn down. I was hoping to surf today, but ever since we arrived, all I have heard is there is no surf in the Caribbean.

I awoke at dawn to see magically, there were textbook perfect breaking waves. They were small, but nicely shaped and just right for me. Eddie awoke and grabbed his board to join me. Each set had nine waves and 3 that broke so that if you didn’t catch them, they would catch you! I have always enjoyed getting wiped out and tossed around by a wave. The power of the ocean puts you right in your place, and if you surrender, it’s a fun ride!

I know the general stereotypical image of a surfer is a sun bleached, burn-out type whose reality is partying, babes and waves. There is nothing wrong with this described lifestyle, but I have come find more to surfing. My experience with surfing has led me to believe it is one of the most spiritual activities I have ever done. It is a sacrament to harmony.

The experience in itself is divine. As a sport, it is challenging to learn and has a longer learning curve than the average exercise. It takes strength, balance, flexibility and ease in the water to be a surfer. But these physical attributes alone do not constitute the ability to be a good surfer. There is a state of mind and awareness that is necessary to surf.

The term “catch a wave” is very common and perfectly describes what you must do. The wave has its own powerful energy and if you don’t “catch it”, it will go on without you. In order to catch the wave, you must be in the right position in the ocean, and then you must paddle at the right speed. In a spiritual sense, you must meet its energy and that is when you can soar! This is true harmony with nature and because of this, surfing has changed my life!

I must say that surfing naked feels really good!  We laughed with complete joy at how delicious our lives were at that moment. We were surfing on our own private cove, naked on choice waves with no competition from any other surfer! The colors were so vibrant. The water was a clear blue, the sand was powdery white and the sun warm gold. When I see Eddie surfing, it is almost unbearable how enamored I am of him. To see his bum, held tight on top of the board, as he paddles is a sight that floods my senses with a heat.

We paddled over to Trunk Bay, the neighboring bay and caught surf over there. The coconut trees are so low there that you can pull the ripe coconuts off yourself ( not common!) Ripe coconuts have the sweet milk, or coconut water as some people call it. This beach is completely unspoiled as Rogue’s Bay. We were blessed with a piece of driftwood with a nail on it, which was perfect to open our coconuts. They were the sweetest milk ever – since they were ripened in the sun with the mother tree’s love. We were deliriously happy.

 

Surfing

Whoever said that there was no surfing in the Caribbean was seriously mistaken. Sure, it’s not as consistent or frequently good as Hawaii, California or even Florida, but here are the pictures to prove that it does exist. The water is so clear blue and being able to see to the bottom brings good feelings of safety for those afraid of the unknown. 

Passport Part Deux

Great news! My passport nightmare is nearly over. As a matter of fact, I think I made a big deal over nothing.

I went to the US Embassy dressed in my finest sarong shaking in my flip-flops.  I was petrified they would deport me immediately or worse! I envisioned them calling all my friends in NYC and my family in San Francisco to tell them what a failure I was. I thought they would tell me I would have to hire a lawyer at $500 an hour.

Turns out, I will be able to get a new passport relatively easily and quickly. I do need proof of identity, but Mervin coming into their office and giving them an affidavit is enough verification. They will also call the Passport Office in the US next week to validate that I had a previous passport through the Department Name Check System. Since I don’t have the number and they want to prevent fraudulent use of the identification, they will report my passport lost. They will not need to fill out a police report. They were so helpful.

My situation kept improving.  My new passport fee is waived since they consider me a victim of disaster because of my boating accident. The kind people in the office were the messengers of only great information and seemed genuinely fascinated with my dolphin rescue.  They told me that they have heard about dolphins saving other people. They recommended that I go to the marine history museum of Tortola.

Then the other shoe dropped. They gave me a routine series of questions and requirements in order for me to receive a new passport.   This list included that in no circumstances was I to be gainfully employed. This included the farmer’s market that I had planned to work that weekend. They also assumed that my boating accident happened more recently. They thought that I would call home immediately for someone to wire me money to stay in a proper hotel in Road Town.

I decided to face the inevitable now and tell them the truth. I told them the boating accident happened about 1 and ½ months ago. Their attitude began to change towards me as they asked me abruptly with a tone, “Where can we contact you? What hotel are you staying?” I got scared that everything would fall apart if I told them where I was staying. I couldn’t think of the one I stayed at, so I asked, “which one do you recommend?” I added sheepishly, “I was staying at another bay - in Brandy Wine Bay.”

They gave me a name of a hotel in Road Town and offered to call them for me to make a reservation. I hemmed and hawed. I would have to suck it up and call someone to ask for money.  I thought of Isaiah’s slavery speech of freedom and my new inspiration to be a better person. Why is it always easier to talk about doing the right thing then to do it? 

They were offering their phone and I got swept up in their helpfulness and called Eddie.  I was very brief and told him that I would tell him the full story later, but that basically all my money was gone through no fault of my own and that I needed him to pay for a hotel.  He asked me what I was doing in Road Town, was I ok and when I would be able to tell him the full story. I said I was ok, but had been through an ordeal and that I would tell him later that night when I was settled in.

You would think after nearly drowning, I would be fearless. Unfortunately, I still have my insecurities. Dealing with my passport was not as bad as I thought. The thought of calling Eddie later was more painful.

Collecting Water Part deux

Today we continued with our water collection by creating a reservoir. We dug, well, ok, Eddie dug a hole. What can I say, he is stronger than me. He dug on the part of the beach where the sand ends and it becomes dirt. It is a circular hole in which we placed a waterproof tarp that is held down on top by rocks.

This project took us all day. I sewed a bellydance costume with shells I found on the beach while he dug the hole. We always have something to talk about and we talked the entire time we worked together side by side. I shared with him how happy I was to be living my dream. As always, he was happy for me, but told me that he would not be doing this for an entire year, as I wanted to.

It was a pleasure to be together so intimately and he found our adventures memorable, but he simply couldn’t give up a whole year. He has so many projects that he began months ago and I should be prepared for one of them to get the green light and take him back to NYC or Japan.

I don’t think I really took him seriously because I wasn’t hurt. It was like a pleasurable conversation over a glass of wine at an outdoor café. I asked him what he missed most about NYC, what project he was most excited about, what he disliked most about our island adventure. We chatted all day long.

He was filthy after we finished making the reservoir. I had made real progress with my shell costume. We took our daily sunset swim and laughed and giggled as if we did just have a glass of wine.

I didn’t like what he was saying today at all. But I don’t believe its true. I think he needs a little more time here on Rogue’s Bay and perhaps some genuine fun. We have been working so hard. I thought some surfing would do the trick, so I did what surfers have done the world over: I prayed for surf.

Collecting Water

I will admit that maybe I read too many survival books. In my desire to be prepared, I have a serious amount of useless information for here in paradise. This became apparent when I offered suggestions for water collection today and Eddie said, “We do not need to know how to signal to aircraft with our bodies or make an Australian poncho raft or have the need to use the word survival as mnemonic device”.

We came to Rogue’s Bay with a few gallons of drinking water, so we had time to create our water collection system. We can also fill up our jugs back at Brewer’s Bay, if necessary. I wanted to do several different types of water collecting because in addition to drinking water, I wanted to create a freshwater shower.

We are fortunate that it does rain often here, so the freshwater should be plentiful. The first water collection we made was for our drinking water with a tarp and four large sticks. All the sticks are even and it looks like a table top until we put several rocks on it to create a channel for the rainwater to run off into buckets and jugs. This system means that you should be present when it rains, to change the buckets. We have both learned how to predict rain by the type of clouds. They are very dark grey and can be high or low in the sky, but they are gathered very close together.

Once the water is collected, it needs to be filtered and purified. First we filter it several times to get the debris out. Then it purifies the water by boiling it for at least 10 minutes. This is time consuming to do and is difficult because you cannot put the boiling water into a plastic jug. We chose the alternative, which is a purifying treatment machine, which we brought with us. The purifier adds three ingredients necessary in all civilized purifying processes: iodine, chlorine and potassium permanganate.

We keep this water in the shade, since we don’t have a refrigerator or ice cubes.

Powder Room

I will keep this description brief so I will not be vulgar,. We created our bathroom today. We wanted it to be far enough away from our tent and cooking, water collection, but not so far away that it is inconvenient.  We had a challenge to not build it down wind. It was basically across the island. We dug a deep hole and then put rocks around it and some wood on top of it to make it more comfortable. I read that you do NOT use disinfectant because that kills the useful bacteria that you need to keep it from smelling. After each use, you throw some earth and water in it to create natural bacteria that it needs.

Campsite part deux

We spent the past 4 days creating our campsite. We planned everything meticulously. Even though our decisions were made methodically, there were a few conditions that we weren’t aware of until we found ourselves in the middle of them.

We carefully planned to pitch our tent in the most perfect place, away from rising ocean water. We made sure it was not facing the rising sun, so it wouldn’t be to hot first thing in the morning. We also made sure that our location wasn’t in an indentation, so our tent wouldn’t collect water. We even took care to brush away all sticks and rocks and lie down a blanket underneath our tent. What we didn’t notice is that we were not protected from the occasional gusty winds, until the wind was blowing so hard, we nearly took off in flight like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. We had to abandon our home and break tent in the middle of the night.

Come morning, we had such a laugh at how we were both trying to be so cool last night and ignore that the winds were unbearable.  We wondered what surprises that would come with where we chose to build the restroom.  

Building our campsite

I have spent most of my life dreaming, longing and wanting for something or someone or to be somewhere. To be here and see my dreams come true is not easy. To manifest what I have wanted for so long is difficult because I have spent so much time in the state of desire that now I am accustomed to it. It’s odd and awkward because I don’t know what do with myself. I squandered so much time wishing that now trying to enjoy it is utterly foreign to me.

I was so excited that I had to resist not waking up Eddie before the sun rose (our rule). I took a walk and tried to let it settle in that I had not imagined it: this is the perfect beach. I had arrived. All the preparation was completed and here I was staring at my dreams. Now what?

The truth is there was so much to do, it made my head spin. We had to create our entire campsite. I had read nearly every camping and survival book written.  I might have been overly educated, according to Eddie. I always quoted books I had read, while he used instinct for most decisions.  I knew that setting up a campsite for an extended period of time, much preparation to planning was necessary. When you are planning to live somewhere for extended period of time, it is different than if you were setting up a campsite for a weekend. Things cannot be set up haphazardly. The placements of our shelter, water collection, fire and latrines have to be well thought out.

Most survival books I read were about cases of extreme basic existence. In these situations, shelter should be the first thing addressed. In the dawn’s early light, I re-read The US Army Survival Book. It says that shelter protects you from insects, weather and enemy observation. (No worries here) They went on to say that shelter gives you a sense of well-being and can help your will to survive.  

I thought about this concept for a while. Shelter is one of our basic necessities. Most of our lives are spent searching for, building, cleaning, furnishing and working for our homes. This preoccupies our time whether we are rich or poor. One must lie their head down to rest each night and desires protection from the elements and or his predators. It’s an inescapable part of life. Where we sleep is important to everyone, whether you are a transient or the type who like to grow roots like a tree or someone who travels the world or has never left his hometown. I giggle as I glimpse the lizards that make their home in a rotted coconut shell. I think to myself, dreams do come true and I can manifest anything I want. However, longing for my dreams is part of the fun – so enjoy the process along the way.

 

We did it!

We told Mervin first thing in the morning that we want him to take us to one of those bays he told us about. A place that was isolated and you could not reach by land. A place we could live off the land. As soon as we could, all of our belonging was packed in his boat that he uses for conservation.

Before we left, Eddie pulled me aside and confessed that he has a fear of the ocean. I know he grew up a surfer-dude in California, how could he be afraid of the ocean? I couldn’t help but be shocked.  We discussed these fears, since I don’t have a fear of the ocean. I know that I do have fears, but I certainly do not allow fears from preventing me from doing anything that I desire. His fears were not going to keep him from going on this ultimate journey, but he wanted me to know.  Despite the fears, the differences in our desires, we headed out into the wild blue yonder.

We were on the boat for about 30 minutes, when Mervin said, there it is.  Before my eyes was the most beautiful vision: a golden sandy beach with waves of aqua blue.  Our boat landed and no sooner than it did, I ripped my clothes off and ran naked as fast as I could down the beach. There were no footprints whatsoever on this unspoiled beach and its beauty was endless!

We explored our beach, our NEW HOME! It was a sight beyond definition. There was a cove made of volcanic rock and years of water sculpted structure. It completely formed a circle that created a protected cove with smaller waves, protect by an extended rock, gently brushing the outer line of the circle. It was all naturally made to be a perfect place to live. Hyatt hotels couldn’t make such a pleasure palace so beautiful and perfect to camp in – complete with an area where water flows into so we could wash dishes and take baths. Our new “hotel” had a sculpted fireplace complete with a chimney! We could not believe our eyes!

Just when we were completely perplexed by our good fortune, a barracuda washed up into the cove. It seemed to be stunned or caught in a wave. Eddie ran to get his machete, but by the time he arrived back from the boat, the barracuda had swum away. Completely out of breath, Eddie looked behind him and saw a huge stick and berated himself for not using nature’s technology. We found two coconut trees that were low enough for us to pick them off the tree.  We listened to hundreds of birds in the mountains and followed our way to the other side of the cove. Without any discussion, we would move our meager belongings to this idealistic place.

We unloaded the boat and Mervin stayed with us all day. He laughs all the time and seems utterly amused by everything I say. He has been most generous with us, but it appears to go beyond island hospitality. He seems to have a personal investment in us and wants us to succeed. He shares with us everything he knows and is always willing to help. He thinks we are magical. Tonight, as the sun set, glowing effervescent rocks/underwater tiny fish the size of a firefly floated up to our new home. We couldn’t believe our eyes. We have found a home beyond perfection.

We set up the most basic of campsites, cooked a meal and fell asleep under the sparking sky.

I am ready for my Walden

I am having trouble dealing with other people. I am itching to move to a secluded beach.  I just want to be in nature with no one, but my love and live off the land.  Brewer’s Bay is gorgeous, but I had always intended this rustic campsite to be a nice transition from NYC to living off the land.

Today we hitched a ride on the only dirt road to the other side of the island into Road Town. Hitchhiking is a beautiful gesture and this side of the island is remote and hitchhiking is common.  A girl named Kim and her Rasta boyfriend, Dillinger, picked us up. He didn’t say anything as he finished a spleef and toked up another as we drove into the main town of Road Town. Kim was generous enough to drive us and wait for us as we bought our supplies of grains, beans and spices. However, the tension that pervaded the ride would have made a taxi fare worthwhile. Eddie called him a fashion-Rasta. 

When we returned to Brewer’s Bay, I went for a walk along the beach and cried. I attempted to explain my emotions to Eddie, but I couldn’t explain them to myself precisely. All I know is that I don’t want to be around people, or to justify myself to anyone. I am unprepared to deal with other people’s emotions – its too complex and confusing. I grew emotional in my vulnerable state and concluded that Eddie and I wanted different experiences here on this island.

This is not a vacation for me; this is a spiritual journey of self-discovery. I am lost in many ways.  I need to explore myself without burdens and pressures that I put on myself when I in am a social situation. When I am around other people I want to be understood and interesting. I can end up feeling insecure and self-conscious. I feel like this gets in the way of getting to the core of who I am. At this time in my life, being around other people is too much work and a major distraction. I need to get a foundation of who I am that comes from being ok with being by myself.

Eddie is very social and really doesn’t feel the same way I do about being together with no one else, but has been supportive of my urgent desires to leave Brewer’s Bay right away to find our own beach to begin our new life. We decided to leave the following day. I know I am ready. I hope Eddie is.

Thoreau

Nature is mythical and mystical always, and works with the license and extravagance of genius.                                        -Thoreau

Nothing is more divine than nature. Any building that Man creates, no matter how many years it took to build or how elaborate it is can compare with the view out of its window. The human population is growing expeditiously and most of the world’s residents live in a concrete environment. Nature has become sectioned off, as an attraction of sorts – a place to visit, not home. Humans have become so far removed from the source, the elements we need for survival as a species.  How separate and disconnected most people have become from nature.  Without living amongst water, forest and wildlife, it is no wonder that people have the ability to destroy the planet in the way they have been doing.  They no longer feel the bond, so how could they be aware of the importance?

The devastation to the planet is so disturbing to me that I have come here to find answers of what I should do about it. I do not want to be part of the problem; I want to be part of the solution. Since I am without proper answers of how to save the planet or stop others from doing so, I have removed myself from urban life. This is why I am living so close to the very things that sustain our lives, without any walls dividing nature and me.

I NEED to be alone in nature. I need to go further into nature and have solitude from human interaction.  I need to live more ecological, in complete harmony with nature.  I need a foundation of truth that only comes from when you face nature with just your heart and hands. I want to test myself and find out what I am made of. I need to just do and to be. I need in the simplest of circumstances – just nature and me. I believe I will get these answers to these questions that are so urgent in my heart. I am prepared for that journey. This is a journey into my soul. 

What we brought with us

The pile had been growing for months in my NYC brownstone of camping equipment, books and cute outfits I imagined myself wearing on my adventure. I had accumulated over 10 hats!  You would be surprised at how quickly this mound dwindled when it was time to pack it and put it on our backs. Decisions were made quickly.

The heaviest of all items were books and there were plenty of them! I wanted to be prepared and decided that they were the only irreplaceable item. I imagined it would be easier to find a fishing hook on Tortola than a book by Plato. I wanted to be equipped to live off the land and had practical paperbacks such the US Army Survival Manual, American Red Cross Lifeguarding and several on the subject of sustainable living. I also wanted to read religious, philosophical, nature books. I yearned to be exposed to all thinkers and believers. I did not desire to read any non-fiction (except for Kerouac), as I wanted to write my own story.

Although I intend to build my own fire and shelter, we packed every piece of camping equipment conceivable. It was a random sort. We brought the latest high-tech tent, an old lantern that Eddie got from his grandpa and a stove we bought at a flea market. We brought several tarps and tools: machete, knives and Swiss army knives. For the past six months, we practiced camping in Upstate New York to determine what we needed.

We brought organic and natural toiletries such as sunscreen, toothpaste, shampoo, q-tips (addicted!) and “all-purpose Badger ointment”. For clothes, I brought 3 bathing suits, 3 sarongs, 4 tee shirts, 2dresses, one jacket and ONE hat!

We brought a plastic bag that I used the entire trip. One bag, one year.

There were many things we brought that I didn’t photograph including a first aid kit, saxaphone, sewing kit, spear fishing gun and surfboards. We eventually packed everything into two large backpacks and two large duffle bags (minus the surfboards).  

Who lives on the Island?

This morning I was trying to open one of the 12 coconuts I sweated so hard to carry back to our campsite. I didn’t bring anything to carry them in, so I put them in the sarong I was wearing around my waist. I must have looked pathetic carrying all of them, but I was too eager to restrain myself. I had taken a delicious swim first thing this morning. While taking a walk afterwards, I got so hot and bothered when I saw all the coconuts that had fallen under the tree that outlined the bay. The atmosphere was enchanting to me, so jungle-like and I was finally living this lifestyle I had been only dreaming about for months. I wanted to gather my own food and didn’t know coconuts are plentiful, so I grabbed everyone I saw.

I tried to hack it open with the machete and then Eddie gave it a go, when Mervin, the young local who runs the campground came to chat with us.  He had a laugh at our expense and then showed us that coconuts have an outside layer. First you need to give it a good wack to crack this outside layer, and then peal the husk off. After that you can open it by piercing one of the three eyes with a machete or knife to drink the sweet milk. The greener the coconut’s outside layer, the less sweet the milk is. The riper the coconut, the sweeter the milk. Turns out that there is an art to calculating how sweet the milk is and finding the small soft spot that you need to open to drink the nectar. 

Mervin also works for conservation and is tracking endangered leatherback turtles that birth on Tortola.  He promised to take me out on his boat with him later that day. (I really want my own boat!). Mervin is warm and generous with his knowledge and his heart. He stayed for hours and taught us many things. He gave us the 411 on everything Tortola. It was part gossipy and part educational and all fascinating.

Mervin belongs to the Rymer family that owns Brewer’s Bay and the land surrounding it.  When I say family, I mean hundreds of relatives dating all the way back to their slavery ancestors. The slaves were set free in their Emancipation proclamation of 1834 here in Tortola. The struggles and the lack of the true freedom of the blacks continued after this date and the land they were promised to receive was not immediately or in some cases, never bestowed. About 10 major families own most of the land on the island of Tortola. Apparently there are many boundary disputes as these families often grew out of joining families through marriage.  At the moment, there is a quiet, hostile revolution brewing among the younger generation.

The older generation here has enjoyed a life with all the richness as their forefathers. They lived here long before the introduction of tourism to the economy, so most of them enjoyed living off the land. They have only recently begun selling land. Their children are making decisions to hold dear to their rituals and traditions or discard them for the modern and often greedy ways.  The older generation didn’t need much interaction from the outside world and were able to suffice all their needs by their families’ deeds. They are a warm, happy, positive, peaceful people living with a close and big family structure.

I am filled with good vibes just by being in their presence. Quito Rymer performs at his bar that claims his namesake. Nicole Rymer owns a bar at the other side of Quitos on Brewer’s Bay. His happiness shines so bright, it is impossible to be sorrowful in his company. And I tried!  He runs his business very different than any bar in NYC. If money is important to him, he hides it well.  Nicole is rarely there tending his bar, though sometimes one of his many girlfriends is there helping out. Most of the time, I help myself to a drink, place the money on the top of the bar. His only concern is that we are happy. His father just came by and chatted with us. He only has a few teeth and wore a feather in his cap. He just said, “no chance” that he would ever visit NYC. Why would he?

There is a fisherman here named Ernest, though we thought his name was, “Honest”. Both are suitable names. Through marriage, he is also a Rymer. He is a carpenter and fishes daily to feed all the families in the Rymer family. His children and grandchildren come out to gather the nets, the youngest is 3 years old.

Eddie and I went out on Mervin’s boat at the end of our day and I was opened for the first time to the watery world of this island. Mervin told us about many uninhabited bays that we could live on! (I am itching to explore!) Ernest gave us some fish to cook for one dinner.  It was such a beautiful gift.  It felt like our Thanksgiving dinner as we ate our meal cooked with coconut water.  Our hearts are open and dreams have become our reality.

As much as I understand the natural growth of “progress”, many of the locals here live what I consider an enchanting life, complete with all of nature’s beauty and rich with their ancestor’s wisdom.  If I had my choice: I would to hold onto their traditions and lifestyles as I attempt to create my own, enamored and influenced by theirs.

Who I am here with?

I am sharing all these new experiences here with my boyfriend. We met one day in Soho while celebrating a mutual friend of ours gallery opening.  I was smitten immediately. We were both in other relationships, but nobody decides when to fall in love. Yes, he is gorgeous, successful and funny, but it was our chemistry that made him irresistible to me. I wanted to devour him that very night, but our significant others made their appearances.

I thought about him all the time. I couldn’t help it. I thought of asking the acquaintance we had in common about him, but concluded that was tacky. I do admit that I kept in touch with our shared pal more often! Finally one hot summer night, we were invited to the same party and I was tawdry enough to not bring a date!  To my good fortune, he was alone that night, too. We danced together that night to every song the DJ played, from salsa to AC/DC. We talked in the kitchen late into the night, until our host basically told us to leave. He walked me from the East Side through Central Park all the way down to Chelsea. It was somewhere in the 40’s that we started to make out and decided we needed to be together.

It was an enchanting night, but it always seems that way whenever we are together. We always find ourselves in the most amazing circumstances. Once, we were mistaken for royalty at Algonquin Hotel bar and were escorted to their “living quarters”. Bizarre things happen, too like when we have the same exact dream.  He makes me laugh all the time, mostly at myself. He thinks that everything I do is and say is hilarious and ridiculous.

We are so intoxicated with each other. And we both can be happy in a museum, poetry reading in the village, a banker’s luncheon or anywhere as long as we are together.  We are extremely affectionate, always touching, always with the legs intertwined under the dinner table. We flirt all the time and the “chemistry” has only become stronger and more creative. 

He is the most amusing person and I feel that if I was here alone, I wouldn’t have met nearly the amount of people we meet daily due to his personality. He is so open and giving, everyone loves him. He has the ability to disarm anyone of their anger, like this creep we met in town the other day who threatened me.

Now I’ve gone and done it and made him sound perfect, but these are just the good things because I am madly in love. He has his flaws. He is neurotic and forgetful. He doesn’t tolerate my messiness or my secrets. He gambles. A lot. 

These are all tolerable; my only real problem with Eddie is that he doesn’t want the same adventure here in Tortola as I do. He wants to have some rest from the hectic pace of NYC, to have a magnificent vacation with the girl he loves and to make me happy. He does not want to “rough it” like I do and he doesn’t want to be here an entire year. There in lies the rub.