Tag: travel

The mysterious Virgin Islands

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Here’s a look at my backyard on St. Croix in the USVI. Yep, as you can see, I’m a spoiled brat.

I live part time in a place that most people don’t seem to understand. Take Netflix for example, which denied me the opportunity to watch a new TV series by saying, “This title is currently unavailable for viewing in your country.”

Or Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport where the nice people behind the domestic flight counter shake their heads and say, “You have to get into the international flights line.”

Or my gas company in Arizona that refused to let me pay my bill online. “We cannot accept payment from your current location.”

USVI should not be that difficult to explain. It means the United States Virgin Islands. It’s just like living in Pennsylvania, or Colorado, or Montana, just without the flamboyant sea view.

And now I will put on my history teacher cap and explain. The U.S. Virgin Islands include 50 minor islands and cays, as well as St. Thomas, St. John, and St. Croix, where I get to sit on my patio and stare at the ever-changing colors of the Caribbean Sea whenever I want. Doesn’t that sound nice? These islands were purchased from Denmark—one of seven nations to hold sway here—in 1917 for a cool $25 million dollars in gold. That was the year the U.S. entered World War I and the thinking was it would be detrimental if the Germans got a foothold in the Caribbean, especially in the Virgin Island’s where there are several natural deep-water ports, the perfect place to park some of their warships so they could wreak havoc near American shores. In 1927 the islands were deemed an unincorporated territory and their inhabitants were granted U.S. citizenship.

If like the aforementioned entities you’re still skeptical, note that we even have ZIP codes, which are pretty much nonexistent outside of the U.S. Now, it’s true that Virgin Islanders do not get to vote in presidential elections, but we do have one non-voting representative in Congress. We are just like Puerto Rico, Guam, American Samoa, and the other U.S. Territories. When I set foot on my little island, I am on United States soil.

Here’s the thing. The U.S. Virgin Islands are magnificently beautiful with their tropical climate and the mesmerizing Caribbean Sea that surrounds them. And they have fascinating history. Way back in 1493, a landing party of two dozen men was sent ashore  by Christopher Columbus who was on his second voyage to the New World. They were met by a group natives who were surely astonded by the 17 ships they found in the waters off their shores. When the sailors captured women and children to be slaves, the natives fired arrows at them. One native was decapitated by Columbus’ men. It is the first documented instance of resistance by American indigenous peoples against European colonists. St. Croix alone boasts two forts built almost 300 years ago: Fort Chistiansvaern and Fort Fredrik, constructed to protect the island from other nations and the marauding pirates who periodically showed up waving the skull and cross bones. How cool is that? And let’s not forget young Alexander Hamilton who hip-hopped his way around St. Croix, before skipping over to the mainland to do his Founding Father thing.

But I digress.

I’m not sure what else I can say to convince the naysayers that the lovely island I call home is part of the United States. Maybe you can pass the word.

Your Forgotten Sons

Inspired by a true story

Anne Montgomery

Bud Richardville is inducted into the Army as the United States prepares for the invasion of Europe in 1943. A chance comment has Bud assigned to a Graves Registration Company, where his unit is tasked with locating, identifying, and burying the dead. Bud ships out, leaving behind his new wife, Lorraine, a mysterious woman who has stolen his heart but whose secretive nature and shadowy past leave many unanswered questions. When Bud and his men hit the beach at Normandy, they are immediately thrust into the horrors of what working in a graves unit entails. Bud is beaten down by the gruesome demands of his job and losses in his personal life, but then he meets Eva, an optimistic soul who despite the war can see a positive future. Will Eva’s love be enough to save him?

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Apple Books

Barnes & Nobel

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Bookstores, libraries, and other booksellers can order copies directly from the Ingram Catalog.

Anne Montgomery’s novels can be found wherever books are sold.

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Sea Turtles: Magical ocean ambassadors

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Any scuba diver will tell you that often the highlight of a dive is meeting up with a sea turtle. These almost magical ambassadors of the ocean rarely seem afraid of humans, even though we might appear scary clad in our diving gear, emitting plums of bubbles that make us appear much larger than we actually are. Yet, sea turtles often swim right up to us, staring as we stare back. Then they gently move their flippers and glide away, seeming to fly more than swim.

I mention sea turtles because last week I had the opportunity to head out to Sandy Point Wildlife Refuge, a wild spot of forest and beach on the west end of St. Croix in the U.S. Virgin Islands where I live part of the time. The refuge was designed with sea turtles in mind.

Since I’ve been diving a couple of decades now, I’ve seen a lot of beaches, but when we emerged from the forest I gasped at the color of the water. It was a creamy turquoise caused by a convergence of currents that splash up onto a white sand beach scattered with long tendrils of green vines. Add in the various blues of the Caribbean Sea farther out and the early evening sky, and, as you can imagine, it was magnificent.

But while the view was exceptional, what was below us was of primary importance. Our guides from the St. Croix Sea Turtle Project explained that there were about 1,500 turtle nests beneath our feet, so the area is closed to the public from April through August. Green turtles, hawksbill turtles, and massive leatherbacks that can reach up to two-thousand pounds come to this beach every year to lay their eggs, a journey that takes them thousands of miles to Canada and back.

The volunteers of the St. Croix Sea Turtle Project were kind enough to escort us through the Sandy Point Wildlife Refuge where we learned all about the sea turtles that nest in the Virgin Islands. (Fun Fact: The final scene of the film Shawshank Redemption was filmed on this beach.)

That trip is fraught with danger. Often turtles come ashore with wounds inflicted by tiger sharks and propellers from boats. Fishermen take their share, as turtles are still harvested legally in some places for food. They also get caught in fishing nets and drown. And the land is not much more hospitable. Nests are ravaged by dogs, as well as mongooses and rats, invasive species brought to the islands by European colonists. Humans, too, take a toll. That’s why rules are in place on all Virgin Islands beaches forbidding chairs and tent poles that sink into the sand, as one never knows exactly where a turtle nest might be.

Sea Turtles today are an endangered species, the result of 200 years of over hunting, as they were valued for their meat, eggs, and shells. Climate change and coastal development have also eroded nesting and foraging habitats. Countries worldwide now protect sea turtles and in the U.S. penalties for harming them can including jail time and fines of up to $15,000 for each offense.

I sat in the sand and stared at the sea. Then I placed my palm on the warm sand. Was there a nest below? Would tiny hatchlings eventually emerge and head for the sea where only one in 1,000 would survive to adulthood?

As our guides herded us off the beach, I was glad these dedicated volunteers were there, focusing on sea turtle research and conservation, because a world without sea turtles would be a world with a little less magic.

Your Forgotten Sons

Inspired by a true story

Anne Montgomery

Bud Richardville is inducted into the Army as the United States prepares for the invasion of Europe in 1943. A chance comment has Bud assigned to a Graves Registration Company, where his unit is tasked with locating, identifying, and burying the dead. Bud ships out, leaving behind his new wife, Lorraine, a mysterious woman who has stolen his heart but whose secretive nature and shadowy past leave many unanswered questions. When Bud and his men hit the beach at Normandy, they are immediately thrust into the horrors of what working in a graves unit entails. Bud is beaten down by the gruesome demands of his job and losses in his personal life, but then he meets Eva, an optimistic soul who despite the war can see a positive future. Will Eva’s love be enough to save him?

Release Date: June 6, 2024

Amazon

Apple Books

Barnes & Nobel

Google Books

Kobo

Bookstores, libraries, and other booksellers can order copies directly from the Ingram Catalog.

Anne Montgomery’s novels can be found wherever books are sold.

Goodreads

Amazon

A trip into the Australian Outback and the best bed ever

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Rocks are quite lovely, unless you have to sleep on them.

It’s just about time for those big bed sales, so today we’ll talk about beds. As in the best bed ever! Where I found it just might surprise you.

Here’s my story.

So you know, I’m a life-long rock collector—there are home movies of me in diapers putting rocks in cups—and if you visit my house, the first thing you’ll see is a huge, glass case with about 400 specimens dominating my living room. If I’ve had enough wine, I’ll tell you where each and every one of them came from, whether you want to know or not, so frequent visitors make sure to steer clear of my collection if they want to avoid an earful.

A number of years ago, my sweetie pie and I traveled half way around the world to Perth, Australia, where we participated in the Australian Mineral Symposium. There we met about 40 enthusiasts—geology professors, miners, and hobbyists—who, like me, are fascinated by the rock world.

The Aussie rockers immediately took us under their wings. After a few days of speakers discussing gold—the featured mineral of the year, talks punctuated by periodic tea breaks, which for an avid tea drinker like me seemed almost heavenly—we formed a caravan and set off for the wilds of Western Australia.

Our trek took us through the towns of Coolgardie and Kalgoorlie, both centered in the area where the great gold rush of 1892 began, and another called Widgiemooltha. No, the names don’t roll easily off an American tongue, but they were fascinating places nonetheless.

While we stayed in small hotels early on, eventually we made camp under the stars. Since Ryan and I live in Arizona’s Sonoran Desert, the landscape seemed familiar, though the kangaroos and emus bouncing about made it clear we were far from home. Following dinner, we sat around a beautiful campfire that sent sparkling embers into the star-splashed night sky.

My love of rocks sent me and my sweetie pie half way around the world to Australia.

Later that night, Ryan wrestled my air mattresses from the car, an embarrassing accommodation for me as I’d spent quite a bit of time camping in my youth when sleeping directly on the ground posed no adverse reactions. But—in a concession to age and myriad broken body parts—we had both brought along air mattresses, even though the 90-something man who’d joined us seemed just fine sleeping on the ground.

Finally, we adjusted ourselves in our little tent and snuggled down in our sleeping bags, but a few hours later I awoke. Something wasn’t right. A rock was sticking in my back. My air mattress had failed.

“Ry,” I whispered, even though the other campers were too far away to hear.

He lifted his head, groggy with sleep and blinked. “What?”

“There’s no air in my air mattress.”

He huffed and sat up, then squinted at me. “Okay, take mine.”

Wasn’t that sweet? There was a time in my life when I would have never admitted weakness, but I was cold and tired and didn’t miss a beat. “Thank you!”

I couldn’t bring myself to say that even with the air mattress, I was uncomfortable, especially with Ryan tossing and turning, trying to find some modicum of comfort on the cold, rocky ground.

We emerged from our tent blurry-eyed and cranky the next morning, though all the other members of our group were extraordinarily chipper, so we kept our misery to ourselves. Ryan and I did our best to buck up, and while a visit to a fantastic chrysoprase mine did the trick for a while, by dusk we were exhausted.

“Now, you two be careful,” one of our leaders said as we prepared to hit the road. “The roos are out. Keep a watch.”

We’d seen the iconic Australian animals hopping about in the distance every day, but had viewed none up close.

“You scan the road while I drive,” Ryan said.

We’d been warned that the kangaroos were out, still we couldn’t avoid hitting one with our rental car.

I nodded and focused on the blacktop ahead.

A short time later, a red-eyed head appeared in the roadway. “Kanga…” But it was too late. We slammed into Skippy and the big marsupial went flying off into the brush. Ry got out to inspect the damage and I peered around the roadside, hoping I didn’t see the poor kangaroo lying in anguish, but he’d disappeared.

“Do you think he’s okay?” I asked hopefully.

“Not a chance,” Ry said as he inspected the front end of the rental car.

“Can we drive?” I looked up and down the empty road as dusk settled. Our friends had gone ahead, unaware that we’d had an accident. By this time we were so tired we could barely see. Luckily, the damage appeared to be mostly cosmetic. (Later, when we tried to explain to our insurance agent that we’d hit a kangaroo with a rental car, he didn’t seem to believe us. Go figure.)

When we finally arrived at our destination we were ushered across a small, rickety walkway that boasted numerous holes. The room was constructed of bare boards and held a small bed and not much else. We were to share a bathroom with another couple. The accommodations could be gently described as spartan. And yet, after a communal meal that warmed our bellies and a few rounds of wine and beer, we fell into that unassuming, lumpy-looking bed only to discover that it was the most comfortable bed we’d ever been in.

How is that possible? I guess we could only compare it to the previous evening when we’d slept on rocks in the cold.

“Ain’t this grand?” I said as I snuggled under the covers.

But Ry was already fast asleep.

Your Forgotten Sons

Inspired by a true story

Anne Montgomery

Bud Richardville is inducted into the Army as the United States prepares for the invasion of Europe in 1943. A chance comment has Bud assigned to a Graves Registration Company, where his unit is tasked with locating, identifying, and burying the dead. Bud ships out, leaving behind his new wife, Lorraine, a mysterious woman who has stolen his heart but whose secretive nature and shadowy past leave many unanswered questions. When Bud and his men hit the beach at Normandy, they are immediately thrust into the horrors of what working in a graves unit entails. Bud is beaten down by the gruesome demands of his job and losses in his personal life, but then he meets Eva, an optimistic soul who despite the war can see a positive future. Will Eva’s love be enough to save him?

Release Date: June 6, 2024

Universal Buy Link

Amazon

Apple Books

Barnes & Nobel

Google Books

Kobo

Bookstores, libraries, and other booksellers can order copies directly from the Ingram Catalog.

Anne Montgomery’s novels can be found wherever books are sold.

Goodreads

Amazon

Summer Camp: Sign your kids up and let them go

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When I was eight years old my mother announced that I would be going to summer camp for two weeks. I don’t recall being asked if I wanted to go to Girl Scout Camp. It was just a pronouncement. A short time later, I was placed on a bus with a bunch of other girls and whisked away.

I mention this because I just watched a network TV anchor interview a child psychologist about sending children off to camp.

“You need to reassure your child that everything will be okay,” the nice psychologist said. “Tell them it’s okay to be nervous. Talk to them about their worries.”

I squinted at the television and tried to remember if my mother addressed any fears my eight-year-old self might have harbored. And, no, she did not.

I decided to look into this preparing-children-for-camp thing, and boy is the process exhausting: Discuss your child’s concerns. Visit camp ahead of time. Talk with camp staff, past campers and parents of past campers. Teach coping skills. Run through the camp’s bedtime routine. Discuss what food will be served and the meal schedule. Look at pictures of the camp. Talk about the various activities available. Consider a pre-camp sleepover with a friend or other family member.

I’ll stop there, but the list goes on. I considered whether my parents ever talked to me and my two siblings about camp, but if they did the conversation eludes me. It was just a family given that every summer the three of us would board busses for various locations and leave home. For eight years I headed off to camp, my tour expanding to a month after that first year.

In case you’re wondering, I loved every moment of it. Camp was the highlight of my year. Then, when I turned 17 and was nearing the age of some of the counselors, it was clear I was getting too old to be a camper. I wept at the thought of never returning to beautiful Eagle Island in Saranac Lake, New York and today, at 70, my time there remains among my most cherished memories.

Here’s the thing. Children need to go off on their own. They need to be in a place without Mommy and Daddy where they can make new friends and try new things. And wouldn’t it be great if they went to a camp where they were asked to put away their phones and tablets? (Yes, I know there are science camps where screens are part of the program, but I think you get my point.)

Going away to camp teaches children lifelong skills. They learn to rely on their own decision making, develop resilience and independence, and hone leadership and social skills, all of which come in handy when they become adults.

So start talking up the merits of summer camp when you’re kids are young. Get them used to the idea early and, of course, do all those other things the psychologist mentioned if it makes you feel better.

Then…let them go.

Your Forgotten Sons

Inspired by a true story

Anne Montgomery

Bud Richardville is inducted into the Army as the United States prepares for the invasion of Europe in 1943. A chance comment has Bud assigned to a Graves Registration Company, where his unit is tasked with locating, identifying, and burying the dead. Bud ships out, leaving behind his new wife, Lorraine, a mysterious woman who has stolen his heart but whose secretive nature and shadowy past leave many unanswered questions. When Bud and his men hit the beach at Normandy, they are immediately thrust into the horrors of what working in a graves unit entails. Bud is beaten down by the gruesome demands of his job and losses in his personal life, but then he meets Eva, an optimistic soul who despite the war can see a positive future. Will Eva’s love be enough to save him?

Release Date: June 6, 2024

Universal Buy Link

Amazon

Apple Books

Barnes & Nobel

Google Books

Kobo

Bookstores, libraries, and other booksellers can order copies directly from the Ingram Catalog.

Anne Montgomery’s novels can be found wherever books are sold.

Goodreads

Amazon

Parents: Please rethink those school-year vacations

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Vacations are fun, but if you’re planning to take your kids out of school for one, you might want to reconsider.

A story on the news the other day had me reaching for heavy objects to throw at the TV. The reporter was interviewing two sets of parents, both of whom thought it was just peachy to remove their kids from school to take family vacations.

I wanted to scream!

Now, before I express my concerns, please note that I understand taking a few days off in the event of a death or family illness, but the idea of dragging the kids to Disney World or Six Flags for some family fun—which is what the parents were suggesting—when the kids should be in school is just plain dumb.

Both mothers explained that since prices at the theme parks drop after summer, taking their offspring out of school should be perfectly fine. One even suggested that keeping children on a school schedule is too difficult, one that leads to their little darlings becoming bored. “Kids just going to school and home and back and forth gets really repetitive.”

So you know where my allegiance lies and in the interest of full disclosure note that I spent 20 years running a classroom. And I sometimes faced students who casually informed  me that they would be gone for a week or two because of a party or wedding. I knew what the extended absence meant for them and me. Said child would fall behind and it would be my job to catch them up.

If the student in question was on top of their studies and they agreed to take work with them on vacation, often the damage would be negligible. But, more often than not, the student would already be behind, mostly because of already missing too many school days, which is the natural outcome when school isn’t considered a priority. When adults make education secondary to vacations, children get the point loud and clear.

When you take your child out of school for a family vacation, it’s the teacher who has to get them caught up on the work they missed.

Here’s where I hear folks saying, “Parents know what’s best for their kids!” But I can’t help but opine that it’s the parents who are bored and are projecting their feelings onto their children.

School is a time to grow and discover what we’re good at, which hopefully leads to a career we enjoy. The daily schedule also prepares young people for life in the business world. Or at least it should. I recall my daughter with a sour look on her face when she discovered that when one has a fulltime job there are generally no summer vacations. Or fall, winter, and spring breaks.

“That’s not fair,” she said with a pout.

Sigh…

The thing is…children see what adults do and copy their behavior. If the parents instill the idea that school is of secondary importance to a fun vacation or family party, the kids will grow up with that attitude.

So, parents, please give that family fling at Disneyland a second thought if it’s during the school year. If not for your child for their teacher. Because, as I mentioned, it’s those of us who helm a classroom who have to scramble to pick up the pieces of your child’s education when you trot them off to ride roller coasters instead of being in school.

Anne Montgomery’s novels can be found wherever books are sold.

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