Island hopping

When you're island hopping, getting there really is half the fun.

This morning I wandered around the historic town of Christiansted in St. Croix, then hopped a seaplane to St. Thomas. This isn't a puddle jumper; the seaplane holds 16 passengers plus luggage. It also affords spectacular views as turquoise water turns to deep blue, sailboat masts give way to mountains of St. Thomas. And while taking a ferry is fine, this is quicker, more convenient and costs about the same.

In St. Thomas, I hopped a ferry for the comfy Westin on St. John. This is the sailor's view, rather than the bird's outlook. Eddie, a boating bellman, pointed out the sites: Water Island, home to about 150 residents; Dog Island (no residents) and a funny little rock of any island called Frenchman's Cap that does, indeed, look like a pointy hat.

The breeze blew in as we flitted across the sea, past katches and beachside resorts and the landfill. Even in paradise, you've got to have a place to put your refuse.

Tonight and tomorrow: St. Johns and Virgin Island National Park. Gotta run; it's almost time for the daily iguana feeding.