Breakfast at Bunker Hill was prepared to order in another open-air area on a higher level by yet another small pool. Instant coffee (apparently the norm here), fried eggs or pancakes with toast, choice of meat, and fresh juice. We strolled down two blocks tot the open air market beside the harbor where Robin and I bought larimar (a blue stone from the Dominican Republic) and turquoise jewelry. The main drag on the harbor was quiet (no cruise boats in port that day although they sometimes have as many as four or five). We took a taxi down to the ferry terminal ($4 per person and $4 per bag) where we bought round-trip tickets to Tortola ($80 each) and watched sea planes land and take off as we waited for the ferry.The trip over was a wild west ride as we bounced over the chop, arriving in Tortola about a half hour later, where we went through customs (they had no problem with the food I’d brought in for the trip—a couple box wines, canned chicken and salmon, and cheeses. We rented a car from Enterprise and drove the coast road, Francis Drake Highway around the southwest coast, stopping at a roadside grocery store to provision ourselves with cold beers and cocktail fixings, arriving at to the second ferry terminal, West End, also the end of the road, where we realized we’d missed the road over the mountain, a vertical ascent and descent that rivals a roller-coaster with hairpin turns on the downslope that make you pray for good brakes.
Our hotel, Sebastian’s on the Sea was at he bottom of the descent and we checked into our rooms facing out onto a tropical courtyard, changed into suits, and hit the beach with gin and tonics and snorkel gear. The water was deliciously warm, no need for wetsuits here, but other than a school of yellow striped fish , there were not many fish. Lolling in the tropical water with cocktails in hand with the sharp peaks of mountain islands on the horizon was lovely. We wandered down the beach to the Bamba Shack, a structure that resembles a kids’ fort cobbled together from driftwood and scraps of plywood and built on rickety pilings over the sand. Every surface is covered with graffiti and women’s underwear, but they boast a hell of a full moon party, which unfortunately we are going to miss on Saturday night.
We had dinner in Sebastian’s open-air restaurant overlooking the water and the Joss Van Dyke in the distance. Lobster mac and cheese was large enough for several people and the best any of us had ever tasted. The fresh red snapper and conch stew were also delicious (prices from $16-28). The tropical breezes and moonlight over the ocean made the meal unforgettable.