WOMAN-EATING IGUANAS (Confessions of a Photographer's Wife)

St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands was our latest destination, and I’m such a dutiful tripod-carrier that I actually brought my RED jacket to this island of 100% humidity and 80+° heat.  St. Thomas and St. John are two beautiful islands with amazingly warm water and inspiring snorkeling and sailing so I’m excited to explore.

Even before we settle into our hotel room, my darling husband, Jim, is off like a flash to scope out the potential sites for shots at sunrise, sunset, and all hours in between.  This resort sits above Charlotte Amalie harbor on one side, and overlooking the Caribbean Sea on the other, so he has no shortage of potential.

On our first adventure, we walk down a path toward the dock, which involves many, many steps, descending to the water.  Naturally it’s all downhill, but as we go down, it occurs to me that we will probably be returning during the heat of the day, with all that humidity, and all uphill and me with the infernal tripod over my shoulder.  I’m an Alaska/Northwest girl, and I don’t do humidity! Or at least I try not to do it.   But each time I step from the air conditioning of our hotel room, I feel a wall of misty hot air,.  I hate that feeling of damp skin all the time, like you could never take enough cool showers.  But I digress.

With dripping skin, we set up the tripod for some shots of the harbor, the huge cruise ship slipping quietly by, and the gently waving palm trees. It really is a pretty spot, and I don’t mind the heat so much when I realize that we’ll be snorkeling pretty soon, and the water looks very inviting.  That’s the one compensation for all this weather – the water is warm.

When we make our way up the steps, I’m actually doing OK until I look down as I rest on a small landing to find a very horny, threatening, fearsome, horrifying iguana just ready to slither across my right foot.  No one told me that there were iguanas on this island, and as I hurtle backward, my eyes light upon a herd of the creatures, eager to attack.  Jim points out to me that the sign says that iguanas are herbivores, but that if you stick your finger in front of their mouth, they might bite.  That’s good enough for me, and I instantly curl my fingers into a ball, which makes carrying the tripod a bit of a challenge.  Maybe I could use it for a bat, only in the event of an attack – no, probably the conservationists at the resort would frown on that. 

Jim, ever the gentleman, steps around the little guy, and leads me up the stultifyingly hot climb to the breezy patio where a rum punch is definitely in order.  While we sit drinking, or guzzling in my case, a nice man at a neighboring table tells us of a cascading waterfall on the other side of the hotel, down a long flight of stairs.

Enough!  I retreat to our room for a nice, cool shower, and a long nap.  After all, we did just fly for 9 hours and experience a 3-hour time change.  But up-and-at-‘em spouse awakes to the perfect sunset which turns out not so bad, since the site he’s picked is above the infinity pool.  Not a four-legged creature in sight so I willingly accompany him, toting not only tripod but camera bag full of lenses and filters.

Morning two begins with a nice breakfast, then the lure of the waterfall is too much and we get directions and begin our downward trek.  Not terribly hot and humid this early, so I dread the return trip a little less.  When we get to the bottom, we do find a lovely waterfall which contains water that has been taken from the sea, used in the air conditioning system, run through reverse osmosis, and is cascading seaward.  Seems pretty ingenious of these hoteliers, and I approve. 

Jim spends about an hour, checking sites, settings, cleaning lenses and filters, and setting up the tripod.  By now the temperature and humidity have climbed to the “hot but not scorching” range.  But then the big question from my dear Jim.  “Honey, would you mind walking up to the top of the waterfall, standing by the edge, and posing for a picture… and oh by the way, how about putting on the red jacket?”   

Ever the dutiful wife I say OK but in the back of my mind is the question of how I will peel off the jacket after it’s become glued to my arms by pure, unadulterated sweat.  I trudge to the top of the waterfall, slip into the jacket, and move to the edge, all the while focusing on Jim to see where he wants me to stand. 

Remember how I mentioned those woman-eating iguanas from yesterday?   In my heat-addled condition, is hasn’t occurred to me that the creatures might actually inhabit this side of the resort as well.  It turns out that posing for a picture with four iguanas circling around your feet isn’t all that easy.  When I return to my pose (after leaping four feet into the air), Jim is calling out for me to remember that they’re herbivores.  Easy for him to say – he’s not the one in life-threatening danger.  In the end, the shot is worth the danger, my limits are being stretched, and I agree that I’ll carry on with the tripod as long as we can add in a little time for jewelry shopping in duty-free St. Thomas.