Our charter details

By Kim Kavin

The jewelry store owners kept pulling out tray after tray of big, fat, head-turning, neck-snapping diamonds. They showed me Bvlgari, David Yerman, all the humdingers that somehow sound like such good deals under St. John’s “no sales tax” policy. No matter which store I was in, I heard the same pitch: “You only get married once, dear.” In my head, I responded, “Yes, and if you had your way, my fiancé would be making a lifetime commitment to MasterCard payments, too.”

I happen to be one of those too-sensible-for-my-own-good gals who said a gleeful yes to the proposal but an emphatic no to the notion of wearing thousands of hard-earned dollars on my finger. I was shopping solely for a wedding band, something simple yet stylish. To me, the most important thing was what the ring represented, not its glitz factor.

Now, at this point, I’d be remiss if I failed to tell you that me and my more-practical-than-thou attitude had arrived at this vacation shopping mecca by way of the 156-foot Feadship D’Natalin II, which, at the time, was for sale at just a few millions more than the U.S. government paid for all of the Virgin Islands themselves. D’Natalin II is certainly a luxury charter yacht by worldwide standards, and I had no problem indulging in the fineries of her first-class chef and top-deck Jacuzzi.

But I have to say I was glad I wasn’t aboard her in St. Tropez or Fiji, in the same way I was glad I shunned those fancy rings. The good ol’ Virgins, even aboard this $150,000-a-week megayacht, have all the qualities that make me happy: They’re comfortable, special, and timeless.

Small cruising sailboats still dominate a good deal of the Virgins, of course, but there’s room for a Feadship to have her fun, too. We had a few gawkers dinghy by our aft deck to take a peek, but for the most part, folks treated us just like all the other boaters—a nice change of pace from winter destinations like St. Barth’s, where the glitz factor is so high it can blind you from the natural beauty of the place.

Our itinerary was like a “greatest hits” collection: We drank painkillers at Pusser’s in Soper’s Hole on Tortola, watched the rays swim by the docks at the nearby Bitter End Yacht Club, and mingled with the masses at The Baths on Virgin Gorda (which, in my opinion, have become too touristy to be worth the stop anymore). We didn’t make it over to visit Foxy’s on Jost Van Dyke, but we did snorkel among the parrotfish and lounge on white-sand beaches in between our dinghy rides to the jewelry shops on St. John and St. Thomas. I swam, napped, and relaxed in between. Simple enough to keep me happy forever.

Yet, I must admit, I enjoyed the high-falutin’ pampering aboard D’Natalin II. The boat itself is unusual, with all four belowdecks cabins set up as twins, a smallish VIP forward, and a large on-deck master. The impressive flybridge is the best part of the boat, sprawling from a forward sunpad and Jacuzzi to an amidships bar and an aft lounging/dining area. One night, the crew turned the whole deck into a private disco, complete with spinning ball, for dancing under the stars.

On the more technical end, the owner recently invested $300,000 in a Quantum stabilizer system, according to the captain. It works phenomenally well at anchor as well as under way. We ate lunch one day while cruising at 13 knots in 15- to 20-knot winds, and not only did my water glass stay put, I could barely detect any movement in the water itself. It’s amazing, I told Chief Engineer Dickie Barrass, given the tall boat’s relatively narrow beam. “We used to be all over the place,” he replied, “like a fat pig on a wet carpet.”

The rest of the crew weren’t quite as colorful in conversation, but all were just as hard-working and fun. The stewardesses were on hand and eager to please, and the deck crew was impressive in watching over all the guests during water sports. I agreed with several of the brokers who felt the captain lacked the polished personality required aboard Feadships (for instance, while ensuring everyone was aboard, he woke me by entering my cabin in the middle of the night instead of calling or knocking first), but he handled the boat capably. Without question, Chef James Postill was the gem among this crew. The Aussie was easily one of the best chefs I’ve met during dozens of charters all over the world.

Postill, now in his mid-30s, started his cooking career at age 14 in a bakery. He worked his way up through dormitories and hospitals to fine restaurants, hotels, and, eventually, Parliament House, which houses Australia’s prime minister. Postill was on par with the U.S. president’s White House chef when he left to go see the world aboard yachts.

He enjoys being a one-man show aboard such a luxurious boat, and he is the kind of chef who adapts his style to the guests’ tastes, as opposed to the all-too-often other way around. “The challenge with charter is getting new people aboard and figuring out what they like,” Postill says. “The comments that come back, what they like and don’t like, that sets the tone for the charter.”

During our trip, he tried out a few new dishes he’s been working on in the Pacific Rim fusion genre, including a tasty ceviche served with whole, thin slices of raw tuna. Very few of the meals he presented were things I would’ve ordered from a menu, and yet I enjoyed every single one. He’s the kind of chef that makes me want to try new things, because I know they’re going to be done well, with my personal tastes in mind.
Which is, after all, what charter at this level is all about, whether it involves snorkeling in crystal-blue waters or shopping for jewelry in boutiques on St. John. I did eventually buy a wedding band, by the way—a Turk’s knot design made of white gold. It shimmers a bit when it catches the sun, but not so much that it’ll blind anyone to the simple, true beauty of its design.  It suits me, and I really can’t imagine having found it anywhere else.

It will be nice to wear it the next time I cruise in the Virgins, no matter how fancy a yacht I’m aboard.