Memories of Cruz St. John USV!
We sailed among the Virgin Islands on the Rebel Jogger, a forty-foot ocean sailing yatch. I belonged to the gag that sailed it from Halifax, Nova Scotia, to Tortola. It got on my way to Barbados.
We discovered our path to Cruz, the capital of Saint John, and strolled the streets of the village town. It had its share of aging hippies spending time in the vivid Caribbean bars where food and alcohol flowed easily with gossip and instant fiendship.
We stopped at Woodys Bar and Sea Gill. Woody greeted us with a brave smile and lively attitude. He was a lot like Woody from the TV show Cheers as he tossed his bottles in the air grabbing many on the fly, pouring cocktails and mixes with impressive speed and elegance. A parrot rested on the shoulder of the girl beside me. She acquired it from a tattoo hippy with a cricket face, smoking like a chimney.
"She was Tanned and also wrinkled, we never understood her name, yet white and also tanned and also wrinkled, was looking for a game. We saw her at bench at Woodys as well as offered her a beverage. She small, well-tanned, and also enjoyable. She got to be quite pretty as Woody put his dual rum.
"We left her there that evening, a sad and lonely girl looking a lot older than her troubled thirty listens to. She put on the scars of problem on her face and in her mind, however she was entitled to much better, for she was real and kind."
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