Chartering Aboard Dreamwalker

It's pouring with rain and Jack Feiereisen, a soggy Marlborough between his lips, is standing barefoot at the Force Ten barbeque on the transom rail. He closes the cover as a heavier shower makes the top sizzle. The mango shrimp kebabs are cooking nicely and Jack has to apply the guava-lime glaze. Rona, the cook on this charter boat, stands in the companionway hatch watching to make sure he does the job right. Rain drips down the side of the bimini. It is not supposed to rain in the US Virgin Islands, but a low-pressure system has stalled in the southwestern portion of the north Atlantic and we are the beneficiaries of nature's largess. Jack waits for the rain to ease up before lifting the lid and using his prized badger hair brush to paint the kebabs with the glaze. This man has his priorities right. He uses a badger hair brush to paint the kebabs and a china bristle or foam brush for the varnished taffrails and wooden hatches. The meal that night is fantastic, with home-made Key lime pie for desert.

I flew into St. Thomas for the Virgin Islands Charter League spring show, where a fleet of charter boats are displayed. Brokers come to this show to make the acquaintance of the charter skippers. The idea is to give brokers an insight into a boat's potential. I stayed ashore for the first night at the Windward Passage Holiday Inn which is right on the waterfront and looking out the harbor-front window, I could see the waves breaking over the low breakwall next to the highway. That night we dined at Herve's, a fine French restaurant nestled in the middle of town. The bouillabaisse was exceptional, as was the entire meal. Another night we dined at The Point, another terrific restaurant. There are some really good restaurants in St. Thomas. You simply have to find them.

After the show we went out with Jack aboard his boat Dreamwalker for a cruise. We headed out of the harbor — according to Jack, the wind never blows straight down the harbor — with twenty-five knots on the nose. As we rounded the headland, the wind shifted slightly, giving us a very close fetch toward the cove where we intended mooring for the night. The fetch was so close, that Jack turned on the engine and motorsailed, rather than beating into the heavy wind and sea. I went to the bow to check out the headsail. Standing on the bowsprit was like riding with an insane elevator operator. I was twenty feet in the air for five seconds and then plunged toward the waves, only to stop about a foot above the white caps. This was fun sailing. My shirt was soaked, as was my shorts, but who cared. The temperature as over 80 degrees.

We rounded another headland at the east end of St. Thomas and headed toward Francis Bay. "Watch out for this rock, or that shoal," Jack said as we make our transit between headlands and islands. In Francis Bay we picked up one of the free moorings in the state park and had dinner. The Virgin Islands park system provides moorings, so that cruisers don't have to drop an anchor and ruin coral formations. In my opinion, this is a great idea that other islands should copy.

After dinner is we sat around, working on the twenty-gallon rum tank built into Dreamwalker's capacious hull. Jack told story after story. He's a former philosophy professor at the University of Wisconsin and Fulbright scholar who gave up academia to sail. He has owned Dreamwalker, a 57 foot Herreshoff, for 8 years and has chartered the boat for 6 seasons. His is the constant strain of wondering if he'll get enough charters to continue chartering Dreamwalker next season. if his charter guests are enjoying themselves, if the food will last for the weeklong charter, and of making sure that his charter guests don't pile the boat onto the bricks. His partner, Rona Ramkhelawan, is from Trinidad and specializes in West Indian cooking, although she can make American or European dishes with equal aplomb. She has been a professional chef for fifteen years, but only the last two have been spent aboard Dreamwalker. They both agree that each charter is more a sharing of their home with guests, rather than an enterprise involving strangers who have simply hired the boat for a week or two.

The next morning the sun comes out and we head for the western tip of Jost Van Dyke, one of the British Virgin Islands. Jack points out Foxies bar as we sail past and we head out of the Caribbean Sea into the Atlantic Ocean. We hang a right and sail down the back of the island, its ridgeline blocking the twenty-knot breeze from our sails. For the first time we need sunscreen and sunglasses as we leisurely transit the island. We round the eastern end, leaving Tortola under our lee. The boat responds as I take the helm and sail it hard on the wind. The wind is fifteen to twenty, the sea is flat, and the sail is sparkling fun. I keep the boat in the groove using my foot on the wheel to give me enough room to eyeball the jib. We plough across the channel, curtsying to the swell and gradually getting headed as the wind bends around Tortola. It is time to tack and I put the helm over. I hold it head to wind for a few minutes to give Jack time to get the headsail in. Then we're off again, this time heading for the channel that will take us into Leinster Bay. Again we pick up the mooring and Jack immediately spots a friend. He's off to chat while we swim and work on the rum tank. Within minutes the rain comes down again. It's as if the God of weather said, "Well they've had their fun. Now I'll drench them again." The rain hammers down for most of the night.

The next morning it is overcast — a drear of a day, but still warm with low clouds shrouding the top of Tortola and nearby islands. The forecast is for more of the same, so we decide to call it a day and head back toward St. Thomas. There is no wind. The first time I've been in the Caribbean with no wind. We motor through channels, avoiding ferries, other sailboats and sportfishermen. As we head toward the harbor the wind comes in? from dead ahead! We continue to motor until we reach Jack's own mooring in St. Thomas harbor. I accurately predict that the sun will come out when I board the plane for the return trip. I leave a way of life that few can enjoy for any length of time, thankful that I was invited into the floating home of Jack and Rona, and that they made it fun in spite of the anger of the God of weather.

If you want to charter the islands, check out www.dreamcharters.com or go to www.portyachtcharters.com