Hurry up and wait

Back in paradise....... I returned from San Fran after staying there from December 20th until January 17th. Why Jan 17th? I had to be back for the excavation that was penciled in to begin on the 20th. Stop laughing, that was the plan as discussed with Edwin, the cat owner and Mike, my cement guy. In true island fashion the work started on February 1st. The usual excuses were offered, lost days because of rain and "I ran into a lot of blue bitch"-- blueish rock that had to be hammered out. Admittedly if there was rock it does slow things down and the cost rise accordingly from the original $150/hr to $250/hr as they now have to hammer the rock. Dynamite is not allowed here.

Jose arrives on the big 'cat'

Anyway, as the delay went on day after day Edwin finally arranged for a another operator with a different company. Jose ended up being a great guy. With his broken english-he's from Santo Domingo-and my broken spanish we got every thing done. It is truly remarkable the deft touch that they operate these large machines with. You have to see it to believe it. More important however is how fast they work. If they are good, and Jose was, they are very fast. I basically told him that he should treat the property as if it were his. Don't do anything I tell you if you wouldn't do it on your own lot. Trust me when I tell you this, when that big cat comes down the cul de sac and starts cutting through the jungle on a downhill slope close to 30% it's showtime. There is no going back now. Every thought, plan etc is second guessed. It's everything you can do to convince yourself that you have thought this through. Any mistakes will leave a scarred mess. Thankfully the fear passes with the snap of the first big tree and reality sets in.

The plan.......Our lot is as close to a rectangle as you can get. 110 ft wide, 200 and change long with a down hill lie. Thank god for the down hill part as I would later find out. After clearing the property lines with a machete twice over the past two years I had the topo memorized. Day after day of walking every square inch of the property, hugging every tree of course, I knew where everything had to go. In fact you start to realize you don't have much choice. I also learned the value of drinking water in copious amounts having nearly killed myself from heat exhaustion the first time I cleared the lot. How close did I come? I ran out of water on the bottom of the lot and kept working for about 30 minutes in thick jungle. Then very quickly, shockingly quick, I had dry mouth and didn't feel too good. The heat became overwhelming. As I struggled up the mountain, slipping and sliding, clinging to stumps I created, I started peeling off my clothes. I barely made it to the top where there is a steady 15 knot trade wind breeze but there was no water in the jeep. I could not see straight. I laid down in the fetal position. Let's just say i woke up naked on the ground in the shadow of the jeep a few hours later. As I was passing out/falling asleep I didn't know if I was having a heart attack. At that time there was no cell phone coverage up on Bordeaux. I could not believe I was going to O.D after only a couple of hours of work. Now I travel with several gallons of water in my truck at all times drinking about one quart per hour when I work. I have no idea if I had heat exhaustion but whatever that was I don't need a repeat.

I had Jose plow straight down the hill along the right side along the property line. You can put your driveway along the boundary, only the house has to be set back 15ft by code. About halfway down we put a rounded turn to the left towards other side. Then reaching back and up the hill he excavated the site. I had him take all the trees, including some below the site, and create a downhill berm where he then put all the dirt/rock from the excavation. Basically I created a small front yard--admittedly on top of fill compacted by a 120,000 pound monster --which has proven to be a great staging area for the work going forward. More importantly, a guest using the lower bedroom won't fall to their death as they step off the patio. We have stayed places where that would occur. Yes, I know, ultimately I will have to build a retaining wall to prevent erosion etc. Right now I have the steep slope covered with a 20x80 6 mil tarp to prevent a mudslide/severe errosion-standard San Fran construction. Next week or so I'll plant some bougainvillea at the bottom to get some roots going.

the front yard

Originally I thought I'd have a main driveway to the bottom cottage with another spur higher up for the upper cottage. Cancel that idea. After looking at the 30% degree slope luge run I created to the bottom, I realized I'd probably be the only person that would go down it. After cutting in the spur for the upper cottage I decided to terminate the main driveway just below it by putting in a 12ft retaining wall to create a small level parking area and psychic crash area for the faint of heart. The cleared area below the wall to the bottom could become an instant banana plantation! By driveway standards down here it's not to bad. Why put the driveway on the right? If we get the lot next door I'll use the same driveway with another spur and if we don't get the lot, the new owner for a number of reasons I won't bother you with, will want deeded access to ours. Two things he will have to do. One pay us a small reasonable price and secondly, but more importantly, I get to place his house. Got to protect those views!

this pic doesn't convey the real slope of the driveway. the plywood is for the retaining wall

the upper driveway spur

So the first stage of the excavation is now complete. Cost--19 1/2 hrs-- at $160/hour with a $400 cat delivery charge. Thankfully we encountered no significant rock problems. Jose will have to come back to back fill the cottage and the driveway retaining wall. At that time we will also finish sculpting the driveway so I can pour it. For now everything has to be hand carried down the hill to the site--it's to steep and the soil is to loose, even for a four wheel drive vehicle.

By the end of the first week in February we were done with the excavating. Now the footings. Previously I may have mentioned that I'm storing my rebar and steel etc, all that's not in the two containers, down on the flats by Coral Bay at Elvis's. Well, you guessed it, Elvis had just gone on vacation for 10 days just as I called to arrange for delivery of my rebar. Hurry up and wait! Towards the end of the last week in February, Larry the fireman who owns a dump truck delivered my six bundles of rebar to the top of the cul de sac. With that, Mike and crew showed up to form the footings for the slab. While I may be the owner I get to do all the shit work. As I mentioned, thank god for down hill builds. Three tons of rebar later, Cleon and I started cutting it. Luckily Cleon weighs over 300lbs--you need to be to bend number 5 bar. As the pictures show there was a lot of bending. While they did routine things I put in the waste and vent pipes for the downstairs shower and toilet. Total time for the footings, three days. I then put in the keyways and the waterstop by myself over the next couple of days. The waterstop was a royal pain in the butt. Meanwhile I put in for the inspection so we could pour the concrete. Mike does such precise work the inspector simply stood at the top of the ladder and gave me the permit. Next the concrete.

Hurry up and wait. Get in line. This time I didn't mind the delay. Months before, we planned for Denise to come down in early March for ten days. Talk about getting lucky. The delay started two days before she came and ended a few days after she left.

The boss shows up!



As usual, Fran and Roger were most generous letting us use their beach house.

Losing my St. John virginity.

Here on st john there are two concrete companies, and this is just a guess, serving 50 or more projects at any one time. These would include houses, driveways, retaining walls and road building to name a few as the building boom continues unchecked. Under normal circumstances they put about 8 yards in a truck and having about 10 trucks, you get in line. After paying for the concrete at $213/yard I was told eight days. The pumping truck would be another $1000. It turned out to be nine days. Not bad, a one day delay you might say. Think again. Here's how it works. The cement company doesn't call you and tell you are not getting your concrete on the day planned. You find out late in the day of your supposed delivery date. Guess what--that crew sleeping in the shade for six hours, they get paid. The next day you start the drill over again. In my case I was lucky. I was the first delivery of the day. Five hours later the slab was in and the workers went home. The pumping truck at $1000 turned into $1390 when they saw the downhill slope and distance. "Ya man", as he said, that's a lot of pipe to hump down and up! It was about 200 feet.

All things considered it cost me about $900 more than planned. Here abouts they say I lost my virginity pretty cheap.

the crew

the pour

the wild goats or deer left their initials that night

the final product viewed from the original driveway

Why are delays here endemic? To start with you have only the two cement companies I mentioned. Next you have the roads, then the rain and the mud that follows for a day or so, one inspector and finally the crews. Every day it rains it puts all those projects back one day. With one inspector for the whole island he only gets to so many sites per day. The crews--most try to work two or three jobs at the same time. Why? To stay busy. As each of the stages of the work take place they jump to other sites. While I may be waiting for an inspection they are at another job pouring concrete. The next day they may jump to another to build forms. Each piece can delay the next. The concrete pour is at the top of the food chain. This dance will start Wednesday for me if Mike and crew show up to start framing the walls. Then they leave as I wait for the inspector. Afterwards Mike comes back and closes up the walls. I then schedule for concrete and Mike plans his schedule accordingly. The system works with the local building caveat " twice as long and twice the money".

Another observation. With the bull market in housing and construction the locals, like everywhere else, start to mistake the bull market for brains. Calls are not returned on time, excuses are made--knowing that its virtually impossible to trace, as shown by the process above. These and other small abuses will get corrected when a bear market comes. When they need work they will change their tune and things will seemingly run on time. Until then I enjoy the breaks. It gives me all the time I need to review all the books, dvd's, plans, landscaping ideas etc that I have. I still haven't found a plumber or electrician to pull my permits. I had thought I would be able to do those as an owner builder but there seems to be a difference of opinion on this one. I still have time.

My profile as I wait. At least I'm not taping my fingers yet. I took a header down the property early on consequently the wrist brace.

During the delays I do all the work a crew would do. Over the last two weeks I cleaned out the keyways, disassembled all the temporary rebar, hauled 50 sheets of 3/4 inch plywood down the hill from the containers along with 100 16ft 2x4's. I brought down about 100 sticks of rebar. Also hoped over to St Thomas by auto ferry, $40 roundtrip, to home depot for that 10x20 white canopy in the pics, MSI for 600 10" plastic snap ties, the plant depot to enquire about having plants delivered from florida etc. The point being there is plenty to do at about five hours a day. If I'm lucky I get to the beach once a week--late afternoon.

a local creature

My ebay truck continues to be the tiny engine that could--except once, or so I thought. On the previous entry--my drive to work--I showed the road in pics that I take to Coral Bay. Along the route just past Trunk Bay, the road goes steeply up through a series of 'S' turns. It was here that I had my Forrest Gump truck repair episode. While climbing in the middle 'S' in first gear the truck bucked for a second. I thought perhaps it was the gas I filled up with the day before-- 93 high octane. Usually I use regular but the price for the 93 was 15 cents under regular. What? When I asked the attendant at this newly remodeled independent station how that could be, he said it was still part of the orignal shipment whereas the regular was a new shipment at the new higher market price. Wow. These folks are to good to be true--especially since there are only two gas stations in Cruz Bay. Well anyway when the truck bucked I figure I had been had and I'm burning water! The buck immediately led to a complete loss of power and serious smoke from under the hood--I mean all power, no steering, no brakes, you get the picture. Next thing I know I'm going downhill very rapidly in reverse with a loaded truck taxi waiting at the bottom with some very big eyes looking up at me. How I thought of the emergency brake I'll never know. It worked. Hard over on the wheel, three feet at a time I backed down the hill to a turn out. When I got my heartbeat back I was propped up against a wood guard rail and the truck was filled with smoke. No real damage to the bumper. You have no idea the mental beating I proceded to give myself. " You stupid mother this and mother that. What a-hole buys a truck on ebay. Now look what you have gone and done. The whole construction project will collapse while you try to fix the truck. Where will the parts come from, how much will they cost? You stupid peice of sh*t, all this to save a few thousand." It went on and on. Finally I opened the hood. A park ranger drove by and asked if I wanted him to call a tow truck there being no cell phone coverage where I was. Yes, please do. With me, opening the hood is the same as hitting the side of the tv. When the smoke cleared and the engine cooled I noticed two things on the third go around of blankly staring at the engine. Although I had no power the engine light and and something else were faintly lit on the dash. Being clueless I figured I must have burnt out the electrical system and that's why the guy sold me the truck. You know, he saw it coming! When I disconnected the battery the ligths went out. Rummaging around the engine--because that's what your supposed to do?--I did notice where the smoke had come from. A large copper wire had melted its entire sheathing off which dropped on the engine block causing all the caustic smoke. The wire had also melted through. I knew it, I had somehow fried the entire wiring system and the truck was totally useless. With that I put my head on my arm leaning on the open window frame and proceeded to die. When the crying ended and the self loathing stopped, I opened my eyes while looking down. As god is my witness, there at my feet was a four foot peice of heavy sheathed wire. It was thick copper no less. It had been there for years pressed in old mud. You have to be kidding me! When the laughing stopped I figure what the hell I could at least replace the burnt one and see if the lights on the dash go out. Who cares what made the wire burn out, I haven't clue. Going around the truck I see a small black wire at the battery is also broken, hmmm I never noticed that before. In fact I had replaced the battery months before when the fog lamps under their black covers had been on and killed the battery overnight. Anyway when I attached the battery cable the faint lights on the dash were off. You have to be shitting me! I find a peice of copper wire on the ground and I did something auto related that worked! With that I went all in and turned the key. It started! While jumping up and down alongside the truck the tow truck pulled up and a new friend, Dwight, stepped out. I told him the story and he told me why. That battery I had bought was dimensionally smaller than the original and over time it had slid back and forth in its housing finally snapping the small ground wire off the terminal to the side of the truck. That then put all the ground current on the larger copper wire at the back of the engine which finally melted through. It was the best $40 dollars I ever spent as I paid him for showing up plus I now know a good mechanic! The other good news, St John finally has its own tow truck service. Forrest Gump lives.

She doesn't mind the delays. My girlfriend here on island.


While I wait I sit here.............

Mike showed up today, Wednesday, and we started framing the inside walls. Eight days late but on time relative to the new date he had given me!

My drive to work

It all starts here.

Cruz Bay near sunset.....

These pics were taken from the window of my truck on the drive from Cruz Bay to Coral Bay along the north shore road through the National Park.

Laurence Rockefeller's original property at Canel Bay. From here he propositioned all the residents on St John to buy their land. Most said yes leading to 2/3's of St John now being a National park after he donated all the land.

driving along the north shore towards Peter Bay

a small piece of private land that Laurence couldn't get a hold of.....

the famous Trunk Bay

further along, around a few more bends, boats at anchor with park permission

then the road drops down to sea level and actually touches a beach.

back into the forest/jungle past some old sugar plantation ruins

then back up the mountain to centerline road towards Coral bay and there she is. Our property is basically at the top of the mountain on the right at the ridge line you are looking at just as it slopes to the sea.

after leaving this viewpoint you drive down the mountain to the small town of Coral Bay and then start the drive up the mountain to our lot. This is the view on the way up

higher still

arriving at our remote cul de sac

there's a view in here waiting to come out

some of what is coming

how all cul de sac's should look at the end

starting January 20th with fingers and toes crossed we start excavating the 100 ft long driveway down the slope with the cottage to the left as the driveway turns and crosses the hill. the second cottage will be at the top of the lot also to the left of the main driveway.

Here's where I start the 35 minute drive--Roger and Fran's house in Cruz Bay. Without them this madness is not possible! That's St Thomas off in the distance--the port of entry to the Virgin Islands.

Moving loads ain't what it used to be

Back in freezing San Francisco. I used to think the winter was warm here. After being gone the better part of six months, in Florida and St John, the 40's feel cold. Anyway onto more important things.

Returned to St john in the middle of November to meet my truck at customs on St Thomas. With my friend Roger's help and advice I cleared most of the paperwork, fees, etc on St John. The folks at Tropical shipping, I can't say enough about them, did their part so that everything went smoothly. Rumors that it would take days turned into one day by clearing most every thing on St John, population 3500+ vs St Thomas with 50,000+. No lines vs long lines. Ferried over to St Thomas and cleared the truck and brought it back with California plates. Supposedly I was to change the plates. I couldn't resist riding with the plates for a few days. Total clearing, license, insurance fees etc about $800. So when you work in the tramp steamer you are looking at about $2000.

Boy, this is easy or so I thought. The real fun started a week later. I might have mentioned this earlier but I bought two 20ft containers that I had professionally packed by BI Consolidators, a division of Tropical shipping. Like the folks at Tropical, I can't say enough about these folks. They let me on the dock to direct the packing order. First in last out, a perfectly balanced load--more on this later. Anyway back to the drama. The total freight moved was about 42 tons--I know, that's a lot of sh*t! It worked out to my two containers, a 20 foot open skid and 5 tons in someone else's 40 footer.

Everything arrived safety as scheluded on Nov 30th. I had already arranged trucking as referred by Tropical--everybody knows somebody. Some minor paperwork and things would be cleared. Excise tax board and customs. Bada bing or so I thought. Excise tax board nicked us for about $2400 within two days, now on to customs. Meanwhile I have a plane ticket to bolt on December 15th and it's now Dec 5th--plenty of time to take possession, barge everything over and then have it humped up the mountain--hoping of course it doesn't rain turning this all into some kind of Landrover commercial. You get the plan. Back to customs and my daily call to Tropical and Boynes trucking--they expedited the load--to see if it cleared. Day after day against my Dec 15th departure day. Tic, toc and what's it going to cost us. Truth is I had no idea that customs did anything but look at the load. As for duties I had not seen any printed material that indicated any. Excise tax board yes, customs no. Finally Dec 14th late in the afternoon I was told the cargo had cleared--12 days after the Excise people. The bill, $127 for the new kitchen appliances! You have got to be kidding. 12 days for that? Truth is I thought the bill was going to be about $2000. So, net net I kept my mouth shut.

Now the fun part. While all that was taking place a major problem jumped up out of nowhere. Remember those containers I owned and was going to move up the mountain--well as it turns out no one could move them. The truckers in question thought they were empty. Apparently no one buys their own containers. People ship things, they get delivered to a site on a trailer, they are unloaded and the container and trailer return to the shipper within seven days or you are charged a per diem. The containers never leave the trailer that they are put on at the dock by those very large cranes. There are very few mobile cranes that can lift a 17 ton container and put it on the ground especially in the islands, St John in particular and on top of Mt Bordeaux. Say what? The local laughter was getting to be a bit too much!

So lets see. 42 tons of cargo, spread over 3 1/2 containers sitting on St Thomas needing to be moved pronto. I'm leaving in five days and Tropical needs the dock space for the xmas rush. Originally the cargo was to be transshipped to St John once it cleared. I put a halt to that because I did not have a place to put it and no one could get it off the trailer unless each container was unpacked. Trust me when I tell you this--there was no way they could be unpacked and repacked on top of the mountain. Those fork lifts or people don't exist. The purpose of buying the containers was storage and more importantly-- as safes. Tropical understood the misunderstanding about empty vs full containers and my dilemma. They did what they could--they refunded me, no questions asked the trans fee of $1700 and gave me some time to contemplate my navel.

Once upon a time on St John, Penn's trucking, which has the contract to pick up and empty 40ft garbage debris boxes, used to deliver full 20ft containers to mountainous jobsites for about $650. They did this until one tumbled down the mountain--the lawsuit is still ongoing. The trucks, the kind I needed, have a sliding bed that tilts up and winches up the container. As it is doing this it levels itself out. To deliver a full container it tilts up and the container slides off as the truck drives away very, very slowly controlling the cargo with a winched chain. I acted like I did not know about the lawsuit when I went to see Penn's. Young Mr Penn seemed nice enough and my offer of $1000 per, plus any papers I needed to sign, appeared to be working until he told me the road I had just been on was not paved so no delivery. No, trust me, it is, I was just there. The road is paved. him. Why am I even talking to you? me. Oh no, this is going badly. Lets just say we are not friends and now I am really desperate. He had the only trucks that could do it on St John.

Plan C. You can't have too many. Enter "Sleepy" and Terrance. Two locals from St Thomas. Boynes trucking, who was going to originally move my "empty" containers, gave me Sleep's number. As luck would have it he was to be on St John the next day. We rallied and drove across the island to Coral bay and up the mountain we went. Four hours later he said no problem if the rain holds off. He has the right trucks. We hit it off pretty good. He runs the same program I do, cash, handshake, no insurance, no papers who's better than "Sleepy".....I am. At least I call people back! Tic, toc my flight has to be canceled until the 20th.

Sleepy, call me back you m'fker. You're killing me! You have to stay in touch. I'm being ridden pretty hard with Sleepy jokes from my new friends on St john. It appears I'm Dopey hiring a guy named Sleepy!

Finally Sleepy.... yah man, tomorrow, I'm waiting on another truck, I want to move both containers at the same time. I don't need to call you, I told you I would do it. How's the road? No problem Sleepy, it's not muddy despite the rains. I've been up and down it everyday, we are down to embedded rock. Should I meet you at the barge or over in Coral bay? He tells me to stay on the mountain in Coral bay.

Next day..... Patrick, we have the containers and we are going to try for the four o'clock barge. It took all day in line at Tropical to get loaded by the big overhead crane. If we don't make the barge I'll come over the next day. I'll keep them at my house. My heart stops beating. Oh this is not good. 80k in construction materials with only a plastic customs lock in the heart of whatever constitutes a ghetto on St Thomas. I'm dying. I console myself by remembering I used to be good at judging people to move loads when a lot more was at stake. I would have trusted Sleepy then so I trust him now. Repeat whenever necessary.

One hour later, this is Sleepy, I'm on the barge, should be in Cruz bay by 4:30. You had better come to the dock. The load is not balanced. My truck is listing pretty bad to one side.... Me. Can't be. I was there when it was packed. I'll drive to the dock. As the trucks roll off the barge I'm parked in a large open area to the right. With arms flailing I get them to pull over. The truck is listing very badly. Why? The back outside rack of tires on the passenger side have been blown out under the weight! Two of the four are riding on the rims. Oh shit. The second of my heart attacks is starting. There is, to my knowledge, no jack, hoist or crane on St John that can lift this load. Not to mention it's going to be dark in two hours and we have to drive across the mountain roads to the eastend and then a 1000ft winding climb on a one lane with a switch back and sections that only a four wheel drive can traverse. I want to throw up. Well at least my load is not in the imaginary ghetto!

Riding on the rims, driven by a 22 year old rasta with his girlfriend(very hot) with another truck behind we set out in what I think is the wrong direction. As it turns out it's to drive by a friend to get a long air hose. With his monster "Freightliner" he cranks air reviving one of the tires and he proceeds to top off the other six. One is dead. I ask about it. "It's your 80k load and my 100k truck--we are in this together lets go". Like I said, my kind of guy all the while shitting my pants as the onlookers say 'no way'!

As this has been happening I realize I have a great photo op. With camera in hand I slide out of the truck to snap a few. Truck listing, people laying on the ground, on lookers, naysayers, traffic backed up and the like and me, the great white hunter. When the "great white hunter" flashed by I put the camera down. That's all I need to be, the litigious ahole bad vibing everything, he's taking pics so he can sue our sorry asses when we kill ourselves trying to get his stupid shit up the mountain....They would have been great pics as everyone attested the next day.

With me leading we set out for Coral bay. As luck would have it the road out leans into the mountain. On St John you drive on the left side, however the trucks/cars are American. So the driver side is always in the gutter. It actually makes for very easy driving on narrow to non existent roads. So, as I said, going out driving on the left side the driver side was leaning into the mountain relieving the pressure on the blown side. Bottom line, I consoled myself that the truck would tip over or crash into the side of the hill rather than plunge down a cliff when the remaining tires blew. It's the little things that count! At last Coral Bay, but it's twilight. Can we get up the mountain in 30 minutes? These trucks are not four wheel drive but the sheer weight of the load should give the rear tires all the traction they need. I mean who needs the front. Duh.

The first half went perfect. The minor problem now was the road sloped the wrong way and the pressure was on the blown tire. Thankfully no cliffs. If she goes over here, she will lie blocking the road. That's a whole lot better than down the mountain. It's dark now. At the bottom of the hill we discussed the strategy for the switchback. Basically full steam ahead straight up hill and then hard left into the bush backing out with the wheels hard over and going the last 1/4 mile up the hill in reverse. In a four wheel drive pickup you would go straight up the hill and then make a 90 degree right hand turn in first gear and then proceed up the next leg of the hill. Big trucks cannot make that turn. Everything goes as planned in the dark as the my rasta turns left, hard into the bush. Remember that rain. Well the road may have been down to rock but the bush was mud and I don't mean normal mud, I mean fine sand type mud, perfect for women's wrestling. The front tires drop about 18 inches and the wrestling starts. The front end won't swing around to get the back of the truck pointed up the next leg. Hour after hour trying to get it right. Backing out onto the inclined hill, twisting the frame of the truck behind the cabin, the uphill tires coming off the road. I'm having heart palpitations, I can't watch. I'm just seeing truck and load tumbling down the hill. With my truck up above we have the entire area lit up with the brights. This apparently provided night time entertainment for the folks down in Coral Bay who watched a bunch of aholes try to do the impossible. All the yelling and cursing gave it color echoing down the valley. I told Sleepy we should bail and try to winch the front end around the next morning. He said it could still be done and he had work to do that night on St Thomas. Tomorrow was out of the question. With that I went up to our property where I had built a plywood road so I wouldn't get stuck and brought it down. We attempted to do the same now with the truck's front end. One and half hours later they swung the front end over that pathetic 18 inches we had been trying for and she came out. I could not f'n believe it. I had assumed, everytime over the proceeding 2 1/2 hours as the truck went off the ground, that all was lost. The only other time in recent memory that my heart and adrenalin were so exploded was when I walked off that four story apartment roof in San Francisco. That's the only thing that compares.

The subsequent placing of the containers in the dark with chains snapping and blocks crashing is not even worth typing about. Let's just say I'm going to have to rethink this next time! The other one and a half containers sit at the bottom of the mountain at Elvis's where he has a fork lift. Hank, who has a brain--he said no thank you to running the containers-- and a truck will hump the steel up the mountain as I need it. How I arranged all this a day before I had to fly out, I have no idea.

What I will say is Marilyn, Tim, Jim and the folks at BI and Tropical are some of the people that I couldn't have done this without in Florida. Roger, Fran, Hank, Elvis, Sleepy et al are the folks that made it happen on St john. Without them this is all bullshit.

the containers bought used and inspected were $1710 each
tramp steamer for cargo $10,700

I get back to St John Jan 17th. We are penciled in to start excavating the driveway and house. While I waited for my cargo I cleared the driveway and general house area so we can have at it with the 'cat' on the 20th. I ran the driveway right along the property's border, as allowed by code, so that if I don't get the lot next door they will want deeded access to use ours. No problem, I just get to tell you where your house goes. Got to protect those sight lines!

One last thing, Sleepy was right. When I opened up the blue container the loading had been changed after I flew down to St John. It was probably unbalanced by 3000 lbs. Now was that enough? Either way he was right. It was unbalanced. Sleepy, you da man! He and crew missed the last barge back to St Thomas....

The place

Setting sail

Two months and thousands of miles of driving have finally led to three containers being packed with an almost complete cottage ready for shipping. The truck is at customs waiting for, first come first serve, space on a tramp steamer to the islands. The containers are to follow one week later. During the transit, I've returned to SF to see my baby for 11 days before returning to meet the truck. Then the next step--finding a way to get the containers up the mountain into the jungle near the site. Followed by excavating and pouring a slab. Afterwards the island will shut down from mid-December to mid January. I'll spend that time back in SF.

At some point pics will be part of the post when I get on site..........