Hula Blues Band on the Ultimate Rhythm and Blues Cruise
On the Road, The Hawaiians play it Our way!
We're Jammin'... Taj right, Wayne left,
That's me in the middle...
Well, we're back. We left on January 5th to Florida to hitch a ride on the SS Atlantic to three ports in the
Caribbean... St. Croix in the Virgin Islands, San Juan, Puerto Rico, and Freeport - Grand Bahama,
Bahamas. And what a trip it was.
We were booked as Taj Mahal's Hawaiian Band, a seven piece combo. Here's the lineup. Taj Mahal -
blues and music master on piano, guitar, and slide vocals. Kester Smith, long time drummer and member
of Taj's band. Rudy Costa, saxes (I mean two at once) and woodwinds. He even plays coke bottles. Fred
Lunt - Hawaiian steel guitar, Marc (Pancho) Graham - Upright bass, Wayne Jacintho - Tenor ukulele, and
me - Michael Barretto - Baritone ukulele and slack key guitar. Nobody down there really knew what to
expect, but what a beautiful noise we make. A little bluesey, with the lean toward the Hawaiian sound of
us four players. The crowd was so receptive after the initial shock, we invariably stayed on stage longer
than we were booked for.
Our first stop was at St. Croix. It's a small island, about the size of Kauai, maybe a little smaller, with
55000 people. The first morning as we pulled up to the dock at sunrise, coffee in hand, Wayne
exclaimed..."Wow, just like Kalaheo." And indeed, the rolling hills formed a lush green backdrop for the
"Lahaina-like" town of Fredricksted. Some of the guys beat a path straight to the cabby's and went around
to Christiansted to get in some skin-diving. The rest of us just hung around Fredricksted and checked out
the shops.
At breakfast on board the Atlantic, Taj, Pancho, and me were checking out our reflections in cups of black
coffee when the promoter tapped Taj on the shoulder with a disgustingly chipper "Good morning Taj, I'd
like you to meet Senator David Jones. From St. Croix." His ever-present cellular phone rang and he
stepped off to port. The Senator wasted no time telling Taj how many of his albums he had in his
collection, and how much he appreciated his music, and boy was he ever excited about Taj Mahal coming
to his island for the Virgin Islands' first ever music festival and, what the heck are you guys gonna do with
ukulele's?
We left that last question unanswered and instead compared notes about island culture. When the subject
of food came up (as is inevitable on any island) Dave graciously invited the three of us to lunch at his
"favorite cafe." Now this is why I came. Local Grinds! YES! We agreed to meet in
town at about 12 noon for lunch. "Just walk up about a block, stand near that little building. We'll be
around to pick you up." So, we went ashore. We found a little shop and scored Honduran cigars at $1.25
each instead of the $2.50 we'd have paid in Florida. Oh, and don't forget the Rum! $2.99 a bottle (750) No
Tax, and sample before you buy...thank you very much. No problem. We wandered around the shanty
town, acting like tourists acting local, liming with the boys, and generally carousing. But then it was 12
o'clock.
Not to seem too gauche, I'll just say that we ate some baked grouper, steamed conch in butter, plantain,
sweet potato, on and on. Very like how we eat. They cook in imu, they eat the same food. They got the
same plants - kamani, sea grape, haole koa, ironwood, mahikihiki) The island culture similarities were so
striking that at one point, we even started comparing patoire, that is, pidgin. We had little trouble slipping
right in to the lingo of the boys. Some of the folks in the group marveled at the way they couldn't
understand the rap. I guess the "local" boys were just loose enough.
Politically, these folks are in some trouble too. They have recovered quite nicely from their last hurricane,
but we felt right at home under some of the blue tarps that remain. Their average per-capita income is only
$7500 per annum with an average monthly rent of $500. Needless to say, not everybody has a house. The
Senate is currently fighting over the definition of Native Virgin Islander. It's a huge battle with stark lines
drawn down the middle of the floor. That discussion would take up a whole other page, but suffice to say
that they are using the Hawaiian Act as a model. I warned Senator Jones of our difficulties, and we parted
eventually great friends with many commonalties.
That night, the band played on a roster with nine other bands to a writhing mass of about 2500 or so
screaming, dancing, singing Saint Cruzans. We played last that night, and barely got back to the boat in
time to go on to our next port-o-call...San Juan.
Rum. RUM. Boy do they have a lot of rum there. That and beautiful women. I can't really speak very well
on the state of beauty of the men, but the women! That and the food. Did I mention the food?. Anyway,
we landed at San Juan and stayed for a day. Most of us just milled around town and got souvenirs. I got
up to the old fort, San Cristobal. Whew. Dungeons and the works. The fort surrounds over 200 acres of
land within in which Old San Juan is built. Within those certainly impregnable walls one can find
something like 100 gold shops, restaurants, you name it. Oh, and a Hard Rock Cafe too.
We went aboard and sailed for two days to the Grand Bahama Island port of Freeport. The island is about 94
square miles, and the average elevation is somewhere around oh...four feet. Man. One big wave and...
White beaches, BLUE water. Shells. They use trumpet shells and conchs to pave driveways. It's
incredible. I've never seen so many shells. After a really nice drive around part of the windward side of
Grand Bahama, we had a great dinner at a local restaurant, got aboard and got back into party mode.
This was to be our last night on board. Also our last gig night. We were supposed to go on at 12:30 am,
but Chubby Carrier and the Bayou Swamp Band was really having a good time, so we ended up on at
about 1:15. No problem. We went on late? We'll just have to play longer. And we did. We finally got off
stage at about 3:30...and the crowd called for more.
All in all, it was a great trip. Music, music, music, and more music.
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