There must be other places as beautiful as St. John, USVI. And if there are, I sure hope to see them before my travels cease. Meanwhile, leaving is not easy. The packing and practicalities stink, naturally—but moreso because here is that rare place that makes it easy to relax, let go, and lose track of time.

Trunk Bay. On just about every "Top 10" beach list.

Where have these 18 days gone? And how could our BreakAway be 1/4 over? Despite a gradual descent into Island Time, hours race by like the swift little bananaquits that flit about crazily every morning.

The days have flown by like 3 little bananaquits.

Maybe the next island on our itinerary won’t be in such a hurry to teach that you can’t slow down time, even while you can slow down yourself. Hope so. But I’m in no rush to find out.

I AM always in a hurry to get long travel days over, though. That’s St. John to St. Vincent. A hellish day of travel that, with any luck, will be a “good” adventure—never mind that Liat Airlines (an island hopper down here) has already sent out emails warning of impending delays, cancellations, and worse.

Some sort of air traffic controller’s strike. Or something. “Plan” on it.

So what does this travel day look like?

• Pile the luggage in the Jeep.
• Drive across St. John to Cruz Bay to board a boat.
• Ride that ferry to port Charlotte Amalie (on St. Thomas).
• Catch a cab to the airport.
• Do security, customs, luggage, and wait, wait, wait.
• Walk on a runway to board a little plane.
• Fly to one island, but stay on the plane. Wait.
• Fly to another island; transfer planes (after a 3+ hour wait).
• If possible, leave the airport to have dinner and see something.
• Arrive on St. Vincent, late.
• Cab to our hotel.
• Find something to eat. Swim in the pool? Move in and C-R-A-S-H.

We’ll be in St. Vincent for 3 short days, before moving on again.

It's hard to leave St. John, where beauty abounds.

Moving on to see “more” seems silly at the moment. Perhaps no island could be better than St. John. But I’ve been here many times, even lived here for a half-year.

But back in Minnesota, in the throes of winter, in fits of courage and excitement and seductive web-travel-planning, we set out to see the Caribbean. Get lost, but NOT in America.

Pack those bags. Fasten your seat belts. Spread those wings. Let’s fly.