Camping at Maho Bay was not the version of camping where you pop-up a dome shaped structure, climb inside and roll out your sleeping bag; It was more like staying in a large screened-in porch.
One experience that drew me back to Maho Bay Camp time after time was the so-called “tent”, tent-cabins”, or “cabins” (for lack of a perfect description) which were more like vacationing in a screened-in porch. There was a roof over your head and strategically placed screens around the tent allowing for cool breezes and beautiful views.I grew up in the South in a house with a screened-in porch and always loved the in-between-ness of that space. As we say in architecture: I am inhabiting a threshold, a place that holds the attributes of what is on either side of it (inside the house & the outdoors), joins the spaces, but is its own defined space. The beaches where everyone spends so much time are similar; they are the thresholds where the earth’s land joins the oceans, and walking along the water’s edge I again inhabit a threshold. So it appears that staying near places defined as thresholds, in-between places, are a popular vacation destination.
The boardwalks were appealing to me as well. They held a space that was defined, outside and yet not walking on the ground. They also served the great benefit of preserving the integrity of the very fragile tropical soil from degradation during construction and habitation, as well as serving as the conduit for the water pipes and electric lines that feed the tents and bathhouses.Walking under a continuous tree canopy, with a turn in the boardwalk to make way for an immovable volcanic boulder or stately tree, I sometimes felt like a kid again in part because I became more aware of nature and my surroundings.As I walked the lizards would quickly scurry out from under my feet, always able to be faster than I would expect for their size. Passing by the numerous screened-in porches that visitors were populating in order to commune with the nature around them, I assume somewhere Althea was picking a spot to keep an eye on the daily activity.
Thanks for the comments and likes! Maho Bay Camp had a tremendous following of people who loved to stay there and a special group who chose to live there! I came across an excerpt from a book that I wanted to share, especially in light of the fact that we are watching the dismantling of the tent-cabins that have come to symbolize our time on St. John and the amazing memories we all have made while visiting. I have one more upcoming post on the current status of the tents, buy for the most part I plan to use this space as a place to remember what was so special about Maho Bay Camp and the times that were spent there.
Franz Kafka, the story goes, encountered a little girl in the park where he went walking daily. She was crying. She had lost her doll and was desolate. Kafka offered to help her look for the doll and arranged to meet her the next day at the same spot. Unable to find the doll he composed a letter from the doll and read it to her when they met.
“Please do not mourn me, I have gone on a trip to see the world. I will write you of my adventures.” This was the beginning of many letters. When he and the little girl met, he read her from these carefully composed letters the imagined adventures of the beloved doll. The little girl was comforted.
When the meetings came to an end Kafka presented her with a doll. She obviously looked different from the original doll. An attached letter explained: “my travels have changed me… “
Many years later, the now grown girl found a letter stuffed into an unnoticed crevice in the cherished replacement doll. In summary it said: “everything that you love, you will eventually lose, but in the end, love will return in a different form.”
For the uninitiated, some basic information on Maho Bay Camp will start to fill in the full picture.
I should say from the start, Maho Bay Camp and living in one of their tent-cabins was not for everyone. My first summer, when working as a 4-hr Volunteer at the Registration Desk, I would greet guests and check them in. After the 10 minute process was complete, I could see the excitement of an adventure light up one person’s face, while their partner’s look seemed to say “I’ll humor you.” In some instances, those guests trudged back up the steps within the hour, luggage in hand and informed me they were going to checkout and head over to the Westin Hotel. This loving or running from a Maho tent-cabin was not a gender issue, but a combination of camper vs. non-camper, and whether it lived up to an anticipated fantasy of staying in a cabin near a Caribbean beach!
The tent-cabins were called such because their structural frame was constructed out of lumber: a 16 foot x 16 foot wooden platform, with 2×4’s making up the columns and beams that supported the roof, the counter space, doors, bed and sofa frames and minimal closet space. It is the enclosure material that made it a tent. All “walls” were either nylon screening or a white sheeting (or Stanley Cloth in honor of owner Stanley Selengut). The roof material was similar, a Superwhite vinyl which withstood the tropical climate and reflected the sunlight, keeping the tents a bit cooler by not absorbing the heat during the day. Originally the tent-cabins were a green canvas, which I associate with the 70’s as being a signature material for tents anywhere! However I imagine the harsh year-round tropical sun combined with long stretches of rain and mildew made that material impractical. The white “Stanley cloth” holds up better on both accounts.
The tent-cabins were subdivided into 4 equal quadrants of 8 feet x 8 feet. One was the outdoor porch, one was the bedroom area with two twin beds, and the last two were essentially combined to contain a sofa, extra cot and counter space with a gas stove, dishes and other essentials. In the photo above, the “soft furnishings” (such as cushions, mattresses and curtains) have already been removed for the closing in May 2013 but it shows the basic structure well. The bedroom is in the back (middle) corner, the porch is on the far right, the sofa in the far left corner, while the kitchen counter space is the closest corner in the photo. You can see the mold that developed on the wood trim outside of the tent-cabin in a few short seasons. Mildew on the PVC was easily cleaned with hydrogen peroxide. But maintenance was ongoing to keep the cabins in shape.
The tent-cabins also had “roll downs”: sheets of the white tent material with a heavier piece of wood attached to the bottom. The wood piece would be secured between wooden pegs on the interior rails in the tents. Every screened section had these roll-downs making it possible to enclose it on all sides. The roll-downs were used for additional privacy on screened-in sections (a bit hot, I preferred sarongs) or to keep the rain out when the wind was blowing it in. Designing a tent-cabin to be open to catch the wind and, at the same time, keep out windblown rain can be tricky. One of the features that I liked best were the various wind-scoops. Some were traditional scoops at the roof line, allowing hot air to escape while capturing the cool trade winds. Others, as you can see along the back wall in the photo above, are simply a canted wall with screening at the base. This provided privacy and kept the rain out while letting the wind come up and through the tent-cabin.
There is very little flat land on St. John and most construction is done on a slope. The soil on the island is at most two feet deep and takes a great deal of time to develop. Removing or damaging existing vegetation causes the unsecured soil to run down into the bays during any heavy rains, damaging the fragile coral reefs and ecosystems. At Maho all the tent-cabins and boardwalks were elevated above the soil for that reason. The intention was to preserve, not disturb, the surrounding natural environment. Often the ground dropped off dramatically from one side of the tent to the other. I sometimes refer to these as tree-houses, but nothing was actually built in the trees. I simply felt like I was up in the tree canopy, with tree frogs serenading me after a rain, a view of the ocean below, the tropical trade winds blowing through my tent-cabin and the sounds of rustling leaves and wind chimes just outside.