As three teenage girls growing up on the small island of St. John you get noticed. Especially when you are homeschooled and hitchhike everywhere with your surf boards at all hours of the day.
Truck Bay St John
Our trio had quite a few nicknames for this reason. The Girls, The Surfer Girls, Dropouts, and the Tripod. Our house was nicknamed the sorority house for the constant flow of 4-6 girls in and out at all hours of the day. Doors where never locked, and a sea of beds was strewn across the floor. We easily slept 6 deep in our room, cloths were everywhere and we slept in our bathing suits and rash guards. We had surf movies on at all times; played music loud and danced and skateboarded around the house pretending to get barreled with sheets strung across the kitchen counters and the fun never ended. Often times there was a giant pot of homemade soup in the fridge we survived on. All was good at the sorority house but getting to the surf at the other side of the island was another adventure.
Francis Drake channel, the gateway to the BVI
We hitchhiked everywhere. On a small island 7 miles long, that was the way to get around. But we had surfboards and out precious gallons of water and bread with us. We traveled as always as the trio so the only real chance of getting a ride was a truck. Sometimes it would take us 3 or 4 different hitching rides to make it to our destination. In the Virgin Islands when you hitch hike instead of sticking out your thumb there you point in the direction you are going. To this day when we are Island we still are referred to as the surfer girls. We were kind of the first girls to start surfing. There was a whole crew of us, but our trio was defiantly the die Hards, and we still are, it took us a few decades to figure it all out, but Sister Surf was the answer to make our lifestyle a reality.
Apple Bay Tortola
ROADSIDE SHROOMS
This one I defiantly remember because it happened to me. Probably one of the funniest nights I can remember ever. It all started with a guided trip to Zion hill with a good friend of ours on Tortola. We were given our first lesson at mushroom hunting. Zion hill is one of the highest points on Tortola where the cow pastures were abundant with magic mushrooms. A quick lecture in what to look for and we had a full basket. We decide the mushrooms would the most palatable on a pizza. We promptly baked one, got dressed and ready for our big “trip” out and ate. Around the time the mushrooms began to kick in our dear friend’s dad came home. He was very eager to cook us his specialty “spaghetti”. We all hid in the room laughing about some stuffed animals’ puppet show Marjie was putting on for us. Somehow, we managed to sit through dinner with her dad while our spaghettis began to swim around our plates and we were out the door fast. We stumbled down the hill to hitch a ride to the party. We must have been quite high on the shrooms by now and we caught a ride quickly. While everyone piled in the right side of the car I made my way around to the driver’s side door, I guess I must have gotten distracted because before I had a chance to open the door the car took off and left me behind. We are still laughing about this one! I think I chased them down the road and then eventually they realized I was left behind.
Frida Zamba
STAR STRUCK
There was barley any female surfers in the Islands, so when Frida Zamba, 3x women’s world champion, showed up in Tortola, we were star struck. She surfed—and still does—in a radical, powerful, and graceful way that stands out upon men and women. Her and her husband stopped to pick us up and we couldn’t believe our luck. I remember their car was jam packed with boards already and barely space for us, but we all fit somehow. We were so excited I am not sure if we spoke or what we said. After that she was not only our mentor but also our friend. We would buy her old boards and if she commented on our surfing, you would not hear the end of it.
Next up…
A BOAT WITH NO LIGHTS - maybe some stories should not be told…. Crossing international waters in the without running lights
LEFT BEHIND IN PUERTO RICO - our first surf trip to Puerto Rico and we got left there
LAUDRY MONEY -hitchhiking down under. Dead broke but can’t pass up a good party.