Taking It Slow, From Eco to Luxe
St. John's Concordia Eco Tents are solar- and wind-powered.
(Maho Bay Camps)
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Sunday, October 23, 2005
Here's the thing about St. John. When your ferry docks in the capital of Cruz Bay -- there's no airport -- the town seems deliciously quiet and slow-paced, a refuge for urban escapees. But spend some time in the island's interior and you'll discover the real meaning of slow: feral burros and goats wandering the roads, sugar-shack bars, eco camps with rainwater showers. Turns out that Cruz Bay, with its hip boutiques and seriously upscale resorts, is actually quite the hotspot.
Arriving without a plan, my traveling companion and I surveyed the scene. Which St. John was it to be? Peaceful, environmentally correct campsite, or luxury villa by the sea?
Both, of course.
The Concordia Eco Tents compound, about an hour from Cruz Bay on St. John's remote southeast coast, is legendary among the backpack set. In the mid-1970s, New York developer Stanley Selengut started his eco-empire with 11 self-sustaining units at Maho Bay. Concordia soon followed, using solar and wind power for electricity, roofing materials that reflect heat and a sensitive design that minimizes the developments' impact on the land. They're still popular, and not just because they're PC: At $75 to $95 a night, they're a fraction of the cost of chi-chi resorts.
Our "tent" was actually a wood-framed, canvas-sided structure with windows, a screen door and a balcony, tucked away on the mountainside and reachable via a series of wooden decks and 104 (!) steps. We couldn't see our neighbors, although we did hear guitar licks wafting out from one of the other cabins as the light began to fade.
When the sun sets in the Caribbean, it sets fast . It was too dark and scary to drive back across the island in search of supper, so we dined that night on a battered pear and part of a sandwich left over from lunch. We ate it on our balcony overlooking Salt Pond Bay, staring up at the stars and wondering what that dark shape was that kept creeping up to our cottage.
In the morning we had a better look around our mountain aerie. The cottages are ingeniously designed, with wide deck flooring, space-agey white roofs, large screened windows and those balconies with killer views. The kitchen area comes complete with running water (cold only) and a battery-powered eco-fridge that never got the Cokes above tepid. Not surprisingly, there are no TVs, phones or air conditioners in the rooms, but each bed sports a solar-powered mini-fan and reading light. An ominous-looking battery thing constantly warned that we were in danger of losing power during our two days there (we never did).
In the bathroom, a solar-heated, glass-topped shower drew rainwater from a plastic barrel on the roof. "Pump yourself a warm, refreshing, no-cost shower!" exhorted a nearby sign. "In the morning: Gently pump rain water from your cistern into the black barrel located on the roof of your shower. Count 20 strokes per person . . . Conserve water by not leaving the water running. Wet down, soap up, rinse off. A natural shower from the sun and the rain!"
I ventured in and started pumping. Yow! Why was the water so cold?! It finally dawned on me (literally) that if you get up early and it's been dark for the previous 12 hours, the water isn't going to be hot. Note to self: Take shower at night.
* * *
Visitors to Caribbean islands invariably get tangled up in synonyms for blue when trying to describe the water. In St. John, that honor goes to green. The foliage-draped mountains, in varying shades of emerald, moss, lichen, kelly, loden and chartreuse, command your attention before you even notice the clear blue sea. Fully two-thirds of the island is national parkland, crisscrossed by more than 20 miles of trails.
Driving is the best way to take the measure of this lush and mountainous island, the smallest of the U.S. Virgins at nine miles long and five miles wide, and with a year-round population of 4,000. Jeep rentals are widely available, distances are short if circuitous, and many of the more than three dozen beaches and coves are reachable only by car. But if you take to the roads, keep a few things in mind:



