A Ferry Tale
This is a ferry tale! Whether I am headed to Martha’s Vineyard, a Greek Island, or to France from England my heart does a little pitter patter anticipating the ferry ride and being ferried to my destination. This little ferry tale is about being ferried to the beautiful island of St. John.
The starting point for my adventure begins at the Red Hook Ferry Terminal. After the airplane delivers me to St. Thomas’ Cyril E. King Airport (STT) and the taxi speedily drives me thru the practically impassable hilly roads of St. Thomas unloading me at the dock.
With the taxi fare paid, I feel the constricting forces of being seat bound, seat belted, and compressed in a confined space for hours slide away. Paying the taxi fare means I have arrived at Red Hook Ferry Terminal; a simple, concrete building. The bar to the right, tickets to the left and an energy of ease and relaxation flowing amongst the inhabitants. As a responsible human, I go left first to get my tickets and then right to get my rum infused drink.
As I sip while boarding the ferry, I get an unobstructed view of the Caribbean’s blue water and scattered islands. I release an exhale as my eyes slowly explore the natural beauty. Whether I sit atop the ferry exposed to the sun and wind or sit inside protected from the elements I continue to feel the expansion of my soul, and relaxation of my body as the constricting forces of plane and car travel diminish. This ferry floats me past islands spotted with houses and islands covered only with trees.
As the ferry workers start their duties, I’m reminded that people live “normal” lives in paradise. My wish for them is that being surrounded by this magical beauty has a soul pleasing effect. As my eyes drift back to the expansive blue, green sea that is dotted with islands as far as I can see, I gently dissolve into complete relaxation.
The 20-minute ferry crossing from Red Hook quickly brings the colorful beach town of Cruz Bay into view. As the ferry drifts closer to the shore I watch people boating in the bay and eating at the string of beachfront restaurants. A relaxed, peaceful pace fills the bay.
As I walk toward the town with my eyes still watching the boating activities and relaxed people eating or having cold drinks, I hear the rum lady invite the newly disembarked over for a free sip of rum. She says to her sippers, “I don’t know how anyone passes up the free sip of rum.” My inner smile grows hearing her disbelief. As I walk by I think I love taking the ferry.