Everyone at Tiptoe’s Beach Bar in Charlotte Amaille
harbor knew about Herman Wouk’s book Don’t
Stop the Carnival. “It’s one of the
most famous things ever to happen to St. Thomas,” said Charlotte, a middle-aged
woman working as a morning waitress and barmaid at Tiptoes.
Don’t Stop the
Carnival tells the fictional story of Norman Paperman, a middle-aged press
agent in New York City who one day suffers a mild heart attack. While recovering and contemplating his future
Norman reads an advertisement in the New
Yorker about a hotel for sale on the island of Amerigo. The island was called King George when it was
under British rule but over time native islanders bastardized King George into
Kinja. With snow pilling up and his time
clock running down, Norman makes a hurried trip to Kinja and after some
dealings with a shifty associate purchases the Gull Reef Club and the result is
a tropical disaster.
Wouk’s book was published in 1965 and twenty years later I
discovered it in the bookstore of the Nassau, Bahamas airport. It was at a time when I was traveling
extensively and almost continuously in the West Indies and Wouk’s escapism theme
struck a chord with me. I read the book
eagerly and fantasized about doing what Paperman had done. By the book’s conclusion, it was clear that
the heaven Paperman sought turned into “hell with palm trees.” It was a
bittersweet lesson for him to learn and one that made me rethink my desire to
hideout on a Caribbean island.
Several years after I last read the book my idol, Jimmy
Buffett, purchased the rights to it from Herman Wouk and together they produced
a musical by the same name. It never
opened on Broadway but it was popular in Nassau but not so in Miami’s Coconut
Grove where a theater critic for the Orlando
Sentinel said unabashedly, “The musical by Jimmy Buffett and Herman Wouk suffers
from flat characters and weak songwriting.”
However the enthusiastic response to the musical caused the original end
date to be extended several times to accommodate the audiences. Obviously the Sentinel theater critic was not a Parrothead. That same year Buffett produced the
soundtrack as an album with the same title as the musical and it peaked at 15th
on Billboard Magazine’s Top 200 album chart.
I’m not a music expert but 15th out of 200 suggests solid music to me.
The cover of Jimmy Buffett's CD/Album "Dont Stop the Carnival"
Wouk based Kinja on both Water Island and Hassel Island
in Charlotte Amaille harbor in the US Virgin Islands. One source said it was based on his
experiences managing the Royal Mail Inn on Hassel Island. Others have said it was based on his
fictional experiences while he was merely a resident of the Virgin Islands,
having moved there with his wife and two sons to escape the distractions of New
York City. Whatever the truth, I wanted to discover more about where the book
originated but each time I have traveled to the Virgin Islands I had other,
higher priority, activities on my agenda.
When the Norwegian Star tied up at the cruise terminal on its way from
Copenhagen to Miami, however, I had nothing else on my agenda but that island.
A local taxi starter at the cruise terminal told me the
cost for a taxi ride to the ferry launch at Tiptoes Beach Bar was $100. I told him he was crazy and took off on
foot. As I passed through downtown
Charlotte Amaille during rush hour I felt like I was in Nassau or maybe
Kingston, certainly not on a serene laid-back Caribbean island and certainly
not one that could have remotely influenced Wouk’s writing about Kinja.
Kinja (Water Island) from the dock at Tiptoe's Beach Bar in Charlotte Amaille harbor
Ed, a local tourism tycoon on Water Island, knew
everything there was to know about Herman Wouk and Don’t Stop the Carnival. “I’ve
lived on Water Island for 30 years,” he said, “and just like Norman Paperman I’m
from New York. The only difference is
Norman went back and I never will.”
Seeking directions on this tiny island Ed told me to
simply walk up the hill from the ferry dock.
“Turn right at the four-way intersection and you go to our beach. Keep straight ahead and in a couple hundred
yards you come to a field where the hotel used to stand.” “The Hotel” was the example Wouk used for the
Gull Reef Club. It long ago outlived its
usefulness and a combination of sun and time and hurricanes obliterated
everything. Unlike most of the rest of
the West Indies, it was not replaced or rebuilt.
“There’s not a thing about the book I don’t know,” Ed
boasted. “If you have any questions come
find me and I will fill you in.” I asked
him for clarification about whether the book is based on Water Island or Hassel
Island. “Remember how Hippolyte paddled
between islands? He was paddling from
Water Island where the Gull Reef Club was over to Hassel Island. Clearly the Gull Reef was on Water Island.” Hippolyte Lamantine was the fictional
gondolier at the Gull Reef Club. It was
only appropriate that he paddled between islands.
Ed wished me a successful journey and left me saying, “I’ve
heard so much about Don’t Stop the
Carnival I think I’m going to write my own book and call it, “Stop the
Carnival, I Want Off.”
I spent several hours on Water Island however in the
absence of any actual remnants of the Gull Reef Club or where Wouk may have
lived I sought out a beach where I spent part of the afternoon. Megan, a local barmaid and self-proclaimed
authority on virtually everything, gave me a ride back to the ferry dock after
my time at the beach. “Did you come over
for a day trip at the beach,” she asked.
Telling her of my interest in Wouk and the book, she
declared with considerable certainty that Wouk may have occasionally visited
Water Island but he certainly didn’t live there. “If you ask me, that book is based on a hotel
on St. Croix. It has nothing to do with
Water Island.”
Explaining further and mentioning my interest in the book
because of the connection to Jimmy Buffett and his musical, Megan launched into
a diatribe about Buffett. “You know he’s
opening a Margaritaville on St. Thomas, don’t you.” Saying that I did she said, “It’s not going
to be a Margaritaville, it’s going to be a Marijuanaville.”
Megan explained how the US Virgin Islands had recently
approved the use of medical marijuana. “Buffett
came down here a couple of years ago looking for a place for a new
restaurant. He searched three islands
and chose St. Thomas because of the marijuana.”
Megan, of course, had no direct knowledge of this; it was all
speculation.
As we arrived at the ferry dock she ended her diatribe
saying “Buffett is the angriest little man I’ve ever met. He sat in a bar here one day drinking $700
shots of tequila and leaving $100 tips. He did it all just to impress people.” Apparently it impressed Megan because she
remains livid that it wasn’t her receiving those large tips.
Unfortunately I didn’t have time to tell Megan about the
night I sat backstage with him before a concert in Fort Lauderdale drinking
beer (Jimmy opened mine for me) and talking about travel and fishing and
conservation in the Caribbean. He was one
of the most down-to-earth people I’d ever met.
Escaping from Megan’s golf cart just as the ferry was
arriving at the dock her parting comment to me was “You seem to have a passion
for the book and the story. Why don’t
you move down here and write the true story about Wouk, Buffett, and this whole
Carnival thing?”
Wouldn’t Megan be
surprised if I showed up on Water Island one day intending to do exactly what
she suggested.
2016-06-21keyun
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