Mostly Ritzy St. Thomas

By George Davis - Upon “deplaning” at the Cyril E. King International Airport in St. Thomas, I savored the warm, humid embrace, familiar to anyone who has abandoned the dry chill of winter for the tropics. I shrugged off my blazer as we walked across the pavement to the terminal. Good bye, New York. Hello, St. Thomas.

Backstory

We were six adults and two children. Eight enthusiastic Caribbean worshippers already daydreaming about how to spend the next ten days of leisure. The golfers fantasized about sub-par-ing dramatic ocean front holes. The four and six year olds asked for the umpteenth time about the pools, the kiddy program, the submarine ride. Our minds drifted to effervescent music, exotic meals and pampering massages. And I, invariably drawn to water like a moth to light, previewed my swimming and boating options…

Our reveries dwindled as we were swept up in the current of bodies being disgorged from the airplanes into a sort of hanger that serves as the baggage claim area. It was a little surprising to arrive in a relatively small airport, mid-afternoon on a Thursday, and yet be overwhelmed by the throngs of people. Too many bodies to navigate easily or to locate our greeter and driver from the Ritz Carlton, so we divided.

Everyone else arranged themselves along the luggage conveyor, and I set out to find someone from the resort. I revisited the half dozen or so greeters with placards standing along the stream of tourists flowing from the airplanes. No Ritz Carlton. I asked a couple of greeters it they had seen anyone from the Ritz, but they shrugged. No, nobody had seen anyone from the resort.

I headed out to the parking lot. At last I found a blue Excursion with the Lion Crest proudly emblazoned on the door, but the vehicle was unmanned, so I returned to my quest. After about ten minutes of circulating and questioning anyone who looked remotely like a chauffeur or resort representative, I asked at a concession for local tours and the man offered to go look for our greeter. At long last, after we collected all of our luggage and helped a porter load it onto a cart, we located a somewhat distracted young woman in a blue Ritz Carlton uniform who acknowledged that she was our driver, instructed me to follow her and then promptly dashed off into the crowd. We wove through the forest of tourists, our cart loaded high with suitcases, trying to keep up with the representative before she disappeared.

In due course we managed to reconnect with the elusive driver, who, in the meantime, had summoned two more Ritz Carlton vehicles. Amidst a honking backlog of traffic, prompting one of our group to quip that we must still be in New York, our bodies and baggage were divided between the three SUVs and our motorcade pulled away from the airport. I realized that we had been joined by an impeccably dressed young woman who sat in the front passenger seat. Whether Ritz Carlton guest or staff remained unclear, but we honored her reserve as best we could and resisted the temptation to ask explicitly or grumble about the airport reception. Some thirty five or forty minutes later, after winding through a maze of small streets thronged with cars and people, we arrived at The Ritz Carlton.

Story
At first glance The Ritz Carlton seemed to be more Italianate villa than Caribbean resort, but once we checked in and arrived at our accommodations, the more intoxicating reality set in. Our balcony overlooked the turquoise waters of Great Bay, a large harbor on the eastern end of St. Thomas. Beyond the peninsula that encloses the bay, St. John was clearly visible in the distance. White sand beaches, swaying palms and two vast swimming pools beckoned to us.

Although I had brought my tennis racket to St. Thomas with me, I suspected it might never make it out of the closet. I was right. Day after day, I was drawn to the warm, turquoise water. The well-protected bay remains considerably calmer than the ocean, yet a steady breeze provides ample “go juice” for catamaran sailing and windsurfing. I hadn't windsurfed in almost a decade, but after a somewhat klutzy first morning on the board, it came back to me. Before long I was whizzing all over the harbor; I even managed some slow speed jibes. Each day was more exhilarating than the one before, but my curiosity began to wander to the kite surfers.

Kite surfing or "kite boarding" is a hybrid water sport marrying hang gliding with wakeboarding. An enormous wing parachute is attached to the rider’s harness and steered with a large handle not unlike a jumbo waterski handle. The rider uses a slightly oversized wakeboard to surf, cut and jump as he flies the kite high overhead, dancing colorfully in the wind, rising and dipping in search of steady propulsion. Most windy afternoons there were at least two and sometimes as many as five or six kite surfers in the bay. I spoke with several and am really psyched to learn this sport, but in the unanimous opinions of everyone I spoke to, my week and a half in St. Thomas was insufficient to really accomplish much, especially since the wind was unpredictable. But I promised myself to research other ways, times and places for learning this thrilling water sport.

When the wind was light, there were always other watersport alternatives. In addition to windsurfers, paddle boats and kayaks, there was a fleet of Hobie Waves. One afternoon, gliding back and forth across the bay in a light breeze, we even sailed our Hobie beyond the mouth of the bay toward St. John prompting one of the waterfront attendants to zoom out in a Zodiac inflatable to remind us of the boundaries. Ooops…

Another afternoon we spent parasailing behind a thirty foot long, deep sea v-hull, hundreds of feet above the rolling ocean far beyond our serene bay. We toured the surrounding islands with a bird's eye view of secluded beaches, world-class anchorages and magnificent villas. Feel cramped at the Ritz Carlton in St. Thomas? From my “eye in the sky” point of view, 72-acre Little St. James Island may be the vacation rental to book for your next Caribbean holiday. Our parasailing captain informed us that this villa and totally private island (private except for an army of servants tending to guests’ every whim) off the shores of St. Thomas and St. John could be ours for a mere $3,000 to $6,000 per day. Maybe next time.

Day after day I was drawn to the beach, but when I felt that the Aquatic Center staff needed a break, I wandered off to float in the infinity-edge pool or soak in the Jacuzzis. One evening we enjoyed a spectacular sunset cruise on the Ritz Carlton’s 53-foot catamaran, the Lady Lynsey, while sipping island punch and indulging ourselves on a seafood hors d'oeuvres buffet. On two lazy afternoons we snorkeled around the harbor, exploring the reefs for colorful fish, corral and plants. Dazzling marine life in every color of the rainbow was present a mere stone’s through from the beach, but several encounters stand out in my memory: a sting ray roughly the size of a large suitcase, a slightly smaller greenish-blue spotted sea tortoise, a barracuda the length of my leg and a school of phosphorescent squid.

By the end of the first week, I decided that it was high time for a massage to alleviate the strains of island living. So I headed off to the Ritz’s new boutique spa for a therapeutic massage. This recently opened facility includes a fitness center with cardio and weight training equipment, an outdoor “relaxation terrace” overlooking the beach and bay, and comfortable massage treatment and changing rooms.

I lolled around in my bathrobe on the relaxation terrace while waiting to be called for my massage. Before long a diminutive Swedish woman gathered me up and lead me off to a small massage room with subdued lighting and a hint of aromatic massage oil. Initially chatty, she intuitively quieted down as she began to work on my legs and back. I slipped into a languid reflection on the benefits of frequent massage and lamented the irregularity with which I’ve been able to achieve these benefits. My mind wandered to a Persian story of a powerful man totally dependent upon his personal masseuse, his rise and fall inextricably tied to the power of the masseuse.

She interrupted my meditation gently and infrequently to ensure that I was comfortable, that she was applying appropriate pressure or asking me to roll over. An hour and a half later I emerged relaxed and happy, even a bit dopey, to get ready for dinner.

Although our group was scattered throughout the day – perfecting the challenging Mahogany Run 18 hole championship golf course, boating, swimming, fishing, shopping, and generally lazing about – each evening we came together for dinner. The size of our group and two young children marginally limited available venues, yet we enjoyed many memorable dining experiences, several definitely worth recommending.

The Ritz Carlton offers several options including Iguana's, casual beachfront dining with simple Caribbean and Continental fare, and the similar Coconut Cove Beach Bar & Grill. We ate lunch in one or the other every day, and, generally were quite pleased with our meals. Of note: Iguana’s daily fish special is a seared piece of fresh fish served over a bed of hearty greens. Delicious.

We ate dinner twice at the Palm Garden Café which is ostensibly a step up from the other two, but likewise offers casual outdoor dining. The menu is considerably larger and there’s a Mediterranean influence including an antipasta buffet. Although we had been discouraged from eating dinner at the Great Bay Grill, The Ritz Carlton’s high end restaurant, I ate Sunday brunch here on my final morning, and it was a memorable experience. Served as a buffet, it would have been challenging to dream up a dish that was not available. Every type and preparation of fish and seafood, lamb, beef, chicken and pasta as well every conceivable breakfast possibility. And the desserts… I finished off with a prepared-to-order crepe with sliced pears, drizzled with melted chocolate.

Venturing beyond the Ritz Carlton gates, culinary highlights were bountiful. For Caribbean fare, Agave Terrace and Off the Hook offered up the best eats. Suspended somewhat precariously from a cliff overlooking the ocean, the Agave Terrace is widely known as one of the best seafood restaurants on the island. Despite our waiter’s dismal service, the chef’s creative twists on classic Caribbean preparations – refreshing after the “same old, same old” conch fritters and spicy jerk dishes ubiquitous with island dining – resulted in a delicious meal.

Off the Hook, located near the American Yacht Harbor, offers up delicious fresh fish and seafood fusing Caribbean and Asian preparations in a funky (read exceedingly casual) open-air restaurant. Keep it simple. Order the specials and catch of the day. Totally unpretentious cooking in a friendly, comfortable environment.

After several days of Caribbean food, the palate yearns for a change. In fact, two of the best meals we enjoyed in St. Thomas were not at Caribbean restaurants. Tucked into a narrow back street in Charlotte Amalie, Virgilio’s delivers traditional northern Italian cuisine with an emphasis on seafood. We arrived amidst the din and clamor of Fat Tuesday festivities, yet the intimate dining room’s lofty ceilings, stained glass and Neo-Baroque atmosphere quickly transported us far away. I ordered a pasta and seafood special in a sublime cream sauce that already inspires nostalgia.

On my last night in St. Thomas we ate at Hervé. Fuse classic French dishes and preparations, with the levity of contemporary Continental cuisine and the fresh products of the Caribbean, and you will begin to approach the sensational formula that Hervé P. Chassin has dreamed up. In Hervé’s casual dining room with a panoramic view of Charlotte Amalie and an attentive, knowledgeable waiter I enjoyed the single best seafood bouillabaisse I’ve ever eaten. Period. Add an impressive wine list, a menu that spans lobster to venison, and desserts that transport you off to Paris, and you may well have one of the best restaurants in the Virgin Islands.

Afterward
I conclude my story on a high note, as well I should, and feel compelled to explain the less than upbeat introduction. When I first began composing this story, I opened, “This story was not supposed to happen. Not this way, at least.” I was still in St. Thomas, sitting in the Club room after eating breakfast, and at the time, it was the incongruities that chaffed. The pampering I was receiving from our Club concierge who bent over backwards to make reservations and arrange activities for us throughout our stay contrasted with the reception we received at the airport, for example.

Perhaps my story should begin with our arrival at the Ritz Carlton. Indeed, by the time I left, my perfectly splendid vacation had tempered any criticism I intended to voice. But with time comes balance, and I’ve tried to offer a frank and honest report. At The Ritz Carlton, St. Thomas, incongruities remain. Some are amusing, others disturbing. For example, if it weren’t for the view beyond your windows, guests’ accommodations could be in Boston, New York or London. The conventional Ritz Carlton heavy drapes and formal décor feels grossly out of place on this airy, lighthearted island. And disturbing? I spoke with three different couples (one with little children) who had arrived from the airport only to be told upon check-in that The Ritz Carlton had overbooked and their rooms were no longer available. In all three cases the guests were eventually accommodated, but only after an unpleasant and lengthy process.

Despite the rather acerbic prologue, the false start to our Caribbean escape, I'm missing St. Thomas just typing these words. So, in the end, my story is sunny, and my trip was wonderful. For the grumbles there are just as many delightful points I’ve neglected to mention like the immaculate white sand beaches (one of which is frequented by packs of friendly iguanas) and the fact that all guestrooms and suites have private balconies or terraces overlooking the bay. There is much to praise about this resort. The vast estate. The brand, spanking new spa with at least one noteworthy masseuse. And an endless store of boats and conscientious, eager aquatic staff to assist and instruct you.

So, all told, there’s room for improvement, but we had a splendid vacation, and I would return in a heartbeat.

The Ritz-Carlton, St. Thomas
6900 Great Bay
St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands 00802
Telephone: (340) 775-3333
Facsimile: (340) 775-4444