The Pirate's Bight

Legend plays a large part in the history of Norman Island' with tales of pirates and treasure caves, though the role of the island as the model for the epic “Treasure Island” by Robert Louis Stevenson is perhaps the most famous legend of all. While the island is now uninhabited, farmers have in the past reared cattle there and today the Caves are one of the most popular tourist attractions in the islands. However, Norman Island also has a rich documented history of acting as a hiding spot for Pirate booty.

Documented history for the island dates back to the early 18th century when a Spanish galleon called Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe buried 55 chests of silver coins after the crew mutinied aboard the ship. Although most of the treasure has been discovered by Tortolian residents and later by Lieutenant-General of the Leeward Islands, Gilbert Fleming, more pirate treasure is rumored to exist today on Norman Island. All I know is they gots lobsta, mon!






Noticing a feature here that is very similar to Foxy's, I chose to sit a bit further back in the dinghy when we went to shore.




Pirate Booty!

The first thing that the women head for when we go ashore (since there is a head onboard) are the gift shops. Because of all the pirate lore (Blackbeard was supposedly a resident of these parts) there is pirate brick-a-brack galore throughout the islands. Especially here. There is a popular line of clothing "Pirate Girl" that lines the shelves. Hats, shirts, scaarrrves, etc. I thought I would try to find a pair of Pirate Girl panties ( having gone commando the whole trip) that said "Buried Treasure", but it appears there is no such thing! I think I may have found my niche. How bad would it suck to be a panty manufacturer in the BVI?

After finally having found Cap'n Tobb's $100 lobster we settled in for the long haul:


We eventually staked our claim to a table for dinner that offered a great view of all the "marine life" wandering through, and ordered up. I don't recommend the ribs. In fact, now that I think about it, the only shore food that I would recommend is the deep fried conch and chips at the Saba Rock bar. Unfortunately I ended up down wind from the lobster...smelled like low tide. I was quite impressed with the treatment of the sea-cockroach as far as splitting it goes. They must actually use something like a band saw because it is cut length-wise so perfectly that there is one creepy little feeler/antenna on each side. Something that sucks about Caribbean lobster is that they have no claws. Them claws is gooood eatin'. If you're not into the girlie no-claw lobsters, my brother in law tells me that on St. Thomas at a bar called "Duffy's Love Shack" they fly in real lobsters from Maine every Tuesday.

During dinner they started up the "music" and they had dancin'. I don't think there was a single person "rippin' it up" on the dance floor under 40. Anyways, I needed to find the Little matey's room so headed on down the path. Just ahead of me there was a pair of crusty barnacles heading into the "ladies" room. The two rooms were separated by a wall that, sadly, did not go all the way to the roof. I could hear the touching story of how "I just don't know how to make him like me". "Well you're gonna have to tell him to sh__ or get off the pot!" "Hey, he needs to know you're not going to be on the market forever". I imagined it must be like an episode of "Real Housewives of New Jersey". Ok, so now it's like trying to drive past a bad accident without looking. I had to see this Don Juan. I have to assume it was the guy she drunkenly draped herself across when she returned from dry dock. Cowboy hat, tribal armband tattoo and a home-made wife-beater with the arm holes cut open nearly to the waist. I'm thinkin' "match made in heaven".

Ditch, it's the cops!
Another interesting thing that happened is a big nasty Police boat pulled in and tied up out at the end of the dock. About 4 or 5 cops came wandering in, and after no doubt being "comped" a couple drinks, started casting their eyes about the room. These cops aren't like our cops. They wear combat boots with bloused fatigues, kevlar vest and black beret. It looked like they were settling in for the night so out of curiosity I went up to one of the waitresses and asked about them. "They no usually com here mon".

Willy T's
Another Bight icon is Willy T's. Willie "T", is a floating restaurant and bar. The naming of the Willie T has a bit of unique history about it.

The Willie T is short for William Thornton who was born in 1759, on Jost Van Dyke, just to the South of Tortola. Though schooled in Scotland as a physician, he rarely practiced. His love was architecture, which was self-taught. Dr. Thornton entered and won a competition to design the Capitol building in Washington D.C., with the approval from George Washington. For his services, Dr. Thornton was awarded $500 and a lot in the Capitol City.

The history of the floating restaurant and bar started in 1989 when the Willie T made its way to Norman Island and set anchor. That was the beginning of a tradition in the British Virgin Islands.

Around 1999, the Willie T was having a few structural problems; namely it was just plain going to sink in the near future! The decision was made to strip all its machinery - everything and anything that could pose an environmental problem to the sea, towed off its anchored space and scuttled in about two hundred feet of water, to make an artificial reef. The new Willie T is much larger than the original but still has that definitive pirate ship look to it.

There are a few ways to get to it, but Steve and I saw probably the best:

Now back to our story. After sitting around a while we decided that we would motor over and visit this world famous establishment. But then there's the cops. They seemed to be eying us a bit. I'm thinking: 7 drunks in a dinghy with no lights or flotation devices. We're thinking maybe they're just waiting for us to head out so they can slap us with a hefty fine. But we proceed.

It's hard to tell in the dark, but it could have been 3/4 of a mile to get to the WT in the pitch dark, weaving our way through a sea of moored boats. Fortunately the WT was lit up like a Republican's house. While we are weaving our way along, Steve is diligently shining his little finger light into every boat window we pass until we get hit with a big spot.

When we get to the WT we tie up Piglet and head in. Now, since it was after dark when we were around, I had to cheat and get images online. What I found was the majority of the pictures involved heavy boobage and few clothes.


Now personally, I didn't observe that data point. What I saw was a lot of old people like us sitting around drinking beer, a few sitting around the diner bar, and....a big Police boat. The boat nudges up long enough to regurgitate an officer then backs off a few yards and hovers.

Apparently the cops had been waiting and followed us over. I suspect that the brief spot light illumination had been them. Sort of like a sonar ping. "One ping only". Ok, now its pretty tough to relax. I'm kind of nonchalantly wandering around when I come around a corner and there's mister beret. I stop. He looks me dead in the eye and says "Having a good time?". I say "So far". He says"Good" and walks away. So we just do the "whistling past the graveyard" bit. We pretend to be interested in the place. Kelly actually wants a drink. But we just milled around until the Po'lice finally decided to move off stealthily into the dark. When they were out of sight we high-tailed it for One Love. I just realized while writing this that the police interest probably came from me asking the waitress about them. She probably told them there was "a bunch o' whitey axin' about them".