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An USAmerican in Paradise
Part One
Martha K. Harrison
The 9 square mile Island of St. Barthelemy was discovered by Christopher
Columbus in 1493 and was named after his brother Bartholomeo. It was
inhabited by the Carib Indians. St-Barth was passed between Sweden and
France until 1878 when Sweden signed a treaty with France. The French flag
would fly once again on the Island, with the stipulation that it would always
remain a free port.
I discovered St-Barth in the Fall of 1996 and have named it Paradise. It
is inhabited by the Swedes, French, US citizens, and the locals who speak Creole
and French. St-Barth, lovingly nicknamed by its people, never had a large slave
trade so most of the locals are descendants from the Normans and Swedish.
The ground is not conducive to growing crops; however, I have seen 6' high
cotton plants scattered over the Island! The Island is a result of a
deceased volcano.
When we came here last Fall, we were touched by this Island, it felt like home.
It is full of Herstory and its stories are passed from one generation to the
next. Many of the locals believe that those of us who are drawn here are
reincarnated inhabitants of the Lost Continent of Atlantis and that St-Barth was
part of that Continent.
During the 16th century there was a Spanish Buccaneer known as Montbar the
Exterminator. The Gascon pirate was the captain of his own ship crewed by
Indians., they were pirates on the high sea. Montbar was relentless in his
attacks against the Spaniards punishing them for what they had done to the
Indians in the new world. Legend has it he killed as many Spaniards as he
could and drank their blood while it was still warm. The elders tell stories of
lore of these tumultuous times. The one that everyone asks to hear
again and again is the tale Montbars and his pirates coming to St-Barth between
attacks to bury a colossal treasure - 'enough to fill a launch'. All of us
who have heard this story, walk with our heads held high and our eyes scanning
the earth like an eagle.
In the Spring of this year, I was happily planting my garden in New Jersey,
enjoying flowers replacing snow in my yard. I am a computer nut and do
most of my newspaper reading while online. One fortuitous night, I was
scanning the NYTimes for properties in the Caribbean and there was a listing for
a house in St-Barth! I had no choice but to fax the owner for more
information.....my letter was short and mentioned I had spent a week on the
Island and how much I loved it. I received a 6 page letter from Mr.
Jonsson describing his home, the view, the decision to build where he did....and
his wondering why he wanted to tell me so much about his home and life.
Within a couple of days, the decision was made to leave our home in NJ for 5
months and move to St-Barth. There were less than two weeks to prepare.
Making the initial decision was easy. What a great opportunity! Who
in their right mind would pass this up? Following a dream filled
night of excitement and anticipation, I woke to make my list of the things I had
to do before I left. What? This can't be!!! I wrote lists in
my car, in the supermarket, while talking of the phone, and in line at the bank.
I made sub-lists to my lists, I had a Master List listing my lists. There
was no way I could do this. What was I thinking? Who in their right
mind would do such a thing? My partner left the decision up to me.
Oh good. Now what was I to do? I fell back to the resource I have
always used to make all major decisions in my life....I got on the phone.
Mama's initial response was not very positive, surprising since she loves to
travel. I thought I could count on her to tell me 'Great honey GO!'
My family wasn't surprised to learn of this adventure. I left Sylvester,
GA as soon as I graduated in 1972 only returning to visit my parents and
my two sisters who live in nearby Albany. There was not a big adjustment
for us since we don't see each other often anyway. My friends were
50/50. Most of my friends are steady, hard working, one vacation a year type
people..... what I was about to do was not in their realm of thinking. I
listened to those who told me what I wanted to hear. I am like that.
I took a day to myself to decide where I stood on that thin line between being
adventurous and free spirited and being irresponsible. My final decision
came when I concluded that if my bills were paid, my obligations met, and I was
hurting no one I was being adventuresome....something I have always promised
myself I would not lose.
Perhaps this story should actually be given its name from a line in a Randy
Travis song "Trying to explain why I'm insane is the hardest thing
that I ever had to do". But, I think insanity is in the eyes of the
beholder.
The decision was made - we were going to St-Barth for five months! Finding
someone to live in our house in NJ turned out to be easy, and we knew her so
that made it comfortable. I turned over my finances to my best friend
Marla, who still isn't speaking to me because we usually bowl every Saturday
night and now she has no one to bowl with. I changed all my household utilities
to actual usage from the averaged bill I pay/month. We sent out change of
address cards, contacted insurance companies, made the airline reservations -
including tickets for my two cats, packed, visited the vet, went to the dentist,
doctor, bank vault, and hairdresser. I called and suspended 25
publications that I get for 5 months. I never knew I read so much....well,
I am learning things about myself! Every where I went I spewed the news of
our pending trip.
I sat at my desk with my mile high to-do pile that I had been saving for a rainy
day and did-it. Oh, and Marla had bought a new condo with a view of NYC
from the GWBridge to the Empire State Building and we were hosting a surprise home warming
party for her! Sleep was not on my to-do list for those two weeks.
The party was a huge success and everything was done with three hours to
spare...which I spent pacing in the driveway looking for the limo that arrived
on time at 5 a.m. I take after my father M. C.
Rhett Butler and Ashley Wilkes - my two Abyssinians - had never flown before.
They have been all over the USA in a car and were very apprehensive.
Anything that requires a trip to the vet does not sit well with them. They
were great in the jet that took us from JFK to St. Maarten, sitting quietly in
their travel bags under the seats in front of us. Traveling from St.
Maarten to St-Barth is like no other flight in the world. You settle in
for a beautiful 12 minute flight over the clear waters of the Caribbean Sea,
watch schools of fish in the water beneath you, see the rebuilding of the
devastation Hurricane Luis left in 1995.
This was the second time I would fly into St-Barth and I was nervous about the
trip. That is until we got into the air and Rhett and Ashley started
growling and levitating in their carriers which we had on our laps. There
is no air in the plane to speak of....and it is hot. I still have no idea
if the foam that was coming from their mouths was from the heat and thirst or if
they were momentarily possessed by demonic forces. I don't want to know.
I should have had the other people pay me for the flight. No one was
scared....Rhett and Ashley provided entertainment for the entire cabin and crew.
And to think I was worried about the pregnant lady on the plane.
The planes that land on St-Barth seat 10 people - including the pilot.
When you are approaching the Island all you see is the green of the mountain in
front of you, if you could reach through the bottom of the plane you could touch
the trees. You dive straight down onto a runway which is 780 meters long
the second shortest in the Caribbean beaten only by the Island of Saba.
Inexperienced pilots or those enjoying the view have been known not to stop in
time and drive their vessels into the sea. The first plane landed
here in 1945, the first commercial airline came in the 1960s and the grass runway
was paved in the 70s. 1984 brought the first control tower....which had
been in a car up until that point. There are scheduled flights now, but
one must always remember we are on West Indies Time....the plane gets here when
the planes gets here.
This is why Jo Felix's bar has been a permanent feature at the airport and
probably has made the owner a very wealthy person
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