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ST. THOMAS: mass appeal

BY CRAIG STOLTZ | THE WASHINGTON POST

November 13, 2005

Thirty feet below the surface, the color red disappears. Your lips look gray; peel them back, and your gums are blue.

As you descend farther, you lose orange, then yellow, green and so on through the spectrum, until presumably even the deep violets look black.

But we are not going that deep today. We'll bottom out in Snapper Valley, 80 feet below the surface, where a green sea turtle lumbering behind a giant tureen of coral appears painted in delicate sepia against a pale aqua backdrop.

Please do not be fooled: I am no undersea jock. I'm sitting dry in an air-conditioned, 48-passenger Atlantis submarine, peering into the water through a porthole the size of a trash can lid. This is underwater exploration for the Discovery Channel set, reef diving performed from a butt-form plastic seat. Our dive takes place about five miles offshore from St. Thomas, in the U.S. Virgin Islands. As one of the most visited cruise ship ports in the Caribbean, the island is full of fun, if not quite authentic, attractions like the Atlantis submarine. Any water activity that might appeal to a tenderful of cruise ship evacuees - fishing, jet-skiing, sailboarding, water skiing, snorkeling and scuba diving - is available.

You're not alone

I don't mean to sound like one of those snobs who looks down on islands with ATMs and fluoridated drinking water. You can find some remote pockets in St. Thomas - the proverbial deserted crescents of white sand.

But mostly you'll find decent resorts and condos on handsome beaches, along with a bewildering number of jewelry and liquor stores, a tiny coterie of Danish colonial buildings, a small theme park, an upmarket golf course and development that ranges from Euro-chic to still-not-rebuilt-from-the-last-hurricane cinder block.

You'll also find a tram leading to a mountaintop view of Charlotte Amalie. From the bar and restaurant at the top, you enjoy an expansive vista of the coast, the city and the harbor.

A big port for cruise ships

Don't even think of going to St. Thomas if you don't like the idea of sharing space with - or navigating your way around - the thousands of people who visit the island via the cruise lines. In 2003, 817 cruise ships brought more than 1.6 million people to the island. When the ships drop their human loads, the tiny city of Charlotte Amalie clogs with shoppers, polite cabbies form a gauntlet by the pier, and buses full of visitors scatter among the historic sites, beaches and natural features. But there are days when no ships are in port and (if the attractions are not closed as a result) you have the run of the place.

Even on days when the ships cast their shadows on the capital, you can do some work-arounds. The legendarily beauteous Magens Bay beach is deserted every morning until about 10. The Mahogany Run Golf Course, a Fazio design with a cluster of cliffside holes called the Devil's Triangle, has wide-open tee times most late afternoons.

Because of the "U.S." part of the U.S. Virgin Islands, the island has a familiar feel. Everyone speaks English, traffic is messy, parking can be a chore, and Burger Kings and KFCs are always within reach. There are several unsettling billboards warning locals about big fines for owning handguns, and street crime is a well-

reported problem. But there's still plenty to recommend St. Thomas, including the Atlantis sub, where my two boys and I and about 30 others enjoyed a fine performance by a swarm of yellowtail snapper, a small band of indifferent Caribbean reef sharks, two sea turtles, a flutter of stingrays, and waggly schools of blue chromis, French grunts, striped damselfish, beaky parrotfish and groupers the size of kindergartners.

A view from the water

Like so many travelers, my family and I like to investigate our vacation destinations beneath the surface. We explored the waters around St. Thomas from, first, the surface itself (via kayak). Then we checked things out from just below (snorkeling), and from about 25 feet down (more about that later) and finally from the Atlantis sub.

We started our island exploration at the Mangrove Lagoon, one of the most ecologically important features on St. Thomas. Guided by the sort of cheerfully earnest folks who spend their days doing what others pay for, about a dozen of us paddled flat-bottom kayaks around the sanctuary.

We learned that the mangrove trees sip seawater and convert it, via osmosis, into fresh water they can drink; that they form a natural barrier from the pounding waves of the Caribbean and a filter between the developed island and natural coast; and that, most significantly, they offer shelter to juvenile fish until they can fend off predators.

We got to fend off some creatures ourselves when we beached our craft and put on snorkeling gear. People will tell you that St. John, the more rustic Virgin Island neighbor of St. Thomas, is the place to go for snorkeling.

They are right. Still, we liked the snorkeling on St. Thomas just fine. In fact, we chose our hotel - the mid-priced, decently appointed Sapphire Beach Resort - for its location. In addition to two pools, three restaurants and a full water sports concession, the place has several good coral reefs right offshore.

Undersea stroll