It's not even 9 this Wednesday morning in Charlotte Amalie and already, as I descend Government Hill into the heart of town, I can see masses of tank-topped and T-shirt-bedecked tourists. As on every other day here in St. Thomas, the most-visited cruise port in the Caribbean, streets and beaches are inundated with port-a-day passengers. These day-trippers are just off ships--that would be five today, with an estimated 7,000 a day crowding an island of just 32 square miles and 50,000 residents. You find them concentrated mainly in downtown Charlotte Amalie, horseshoe-shaped Magens Bay, touristy Mountain Top (the island's only indoor shopping center) and Havensight Mall, an outdoor shopping area at the pier that was created for the convenience of cruisers.
More than anything--more than the occasionally packed planes bearing snowbirds from the continental United States or the arrival of natives of other Caribbean islands drawn here by the potentially lucrative tourist trade--cruise ships have changed the tenor of this island, and have been doing so since the 1960s. Locals are still talking about the harbor gridlock caused by 16 (!) ships in port at the same time a couple of years ago. A regular day features three to five ships.
Sans crowds, Charlotte Amalie is actually an interesting town. Extending from the waterfront to the base of the hills that surround the city on one side (the harbor rings the opposite), the shops are mostly of the duty-free variety. Though the discounts aren't as deep as they used to be, the best buys are on liquor (particularly rum), jewelry and imported cosmetics. Shops are located off narrow mews and streets, in buildings that date to the early 19th century (but not earlier because of fires, in 1802 and 1804, that wiped out the business district).
But the daily crowds make it hard to admire Charlotte Amalie's ambiance. On-island vacationers are affected by the daily deluge. Just try to shop in Charlotte Amalie at noon, when crowds are so thick on the sidewalks that you have to walk in the street. Dare to show up at Coral World--a fascinating attraction in Coki Beach, where you descend 15 feet below the surface of Coki Bay and watch marine life swim past postage-stamp-size windows--when cruise ship tours stop off en masse. You'll be fighting for a glimpse.
If you're spending time on-island because you want to escape, rather than court, crowds, it helps to be flexible. Some vacationers isolate themselves on campus at one of the island's numerous beach resorts. Otherwise, the mantra here, for locals and visitors alike, is "early and late." This applies particularly to renowned Magens Bay, a gorgeous beach that's packed at midday but almost ethereal in its emptiness in early evening.
After spending my first couple of days on the island struggling to see the sights sans cruise ship passengers, I figured out that the coolest spots--literally and figuratively--were the ones that all but the most intrepid cruise explorers generally miss. Like Frenchtown, a five-minute walk from downtown Charlotte Amalie. Settled in the 18th century by French Huguenots from St. Bart's and now a neighborhood of fishermen, it is still home to some original descendants and you can occasionally hear locals conversing in French. It's also the locale of some of the island's best restaurants.
On the east end is Red Hook, principally known as the jumping-off point for the ferry ride to St. John. It consists of a couple of busy marinas and a mostly uninspiring cluster of strip shopping centers whose dowdy appearance belies a few treasures. In the middle of a parking lot is Duffy's Love Shack, a casual bar/restaurant that's on almost every islanders' list of truly quintessential St. Thomas experiences. Duffy's abuts busy Route 39, the two-lane main drag, and you may find yourself inhaling the exhaust of a dump truck just as you're biting into that exceedingly salty burger. A sip of the 64-ounce Shark Tank, consisting of five rums and three tropical liqueurs and served in a fish bowl, washes away any residual oddness. During the day, Duffy's is a relatively peaceful place to sip a beer, or one of the deadly-looking creative drinks that you order from a menu on a bamboo stick. By night, crowds take over the parking lot in a scene reminiscent of a Redskins tailgate party on a sunny day.
There are intriguing alternatives to shopping the main drags. Fifteen minutes east of Charlotte Amalie, a store called Mango Tango, tucked away in a strip mall beside two-lane Highway 32, is an exotic world bazaar selling locally made mahogany four-poster beds ("cheaper than in the U.S. and shipping's free"), stained-glass art, Haitian tin masks, mud cloths from Mali and LaDira cognac-dipped cigars, straight from the in-house humidor. Closer to Red Hook (and near the turnoff for Coki Beach and Coral World) is Kilnworks Pottery, where ceramic artist Peggy Seiwert creates iguana-themed pots and bird-of-paradise-inspired vases on site.
Cruise crowds or no, Magens Bay, the gentle, oval-shaped inlet on the island's north side (and site of Bill and Hillary Clinton's well-publicized dance while on vacation in St. Thomas), is worth seeking out. The sands are white, the water clear and the snorkeling not bad. And there's a must-stop on the way there: St. Thomas Dairies, about five minutes up the road toward Charlotte Amalie. Out of a shack come the most exotic, and freshest, adult milkshakes you'll ever taste. Try Rumrunner, with rum raisin ice cream and creme de menthe, or Jacoco, with chocolate and coconut ice cream and Kahlua, or--if you can stand more--Udder Delite, which is almond crunch and amaretto.
Back in Charlotte Amalie, it's 4 p.m., and though I can still see the cruise ships parked stern-to-bow at Havensight Pier across the harbor, the downtown streets are quiet. Some shops are closing their wooden doors. You can walk whole blocks without veering off the curb into one of the narrow "gades" or streets. Later, at dusk, I and several other guests at my hillside hotel sip wine as the 109,000-ton Grand Princess begins to sidle out of port. Strangely possessive, we feel relieved to have "our" Charlotte Amalie back--even if it is, without those cruise ships, a ghost town.
