It was the last plane out from San Juan to St. John. I was the only passenger on the tiny, eight-seater plane. The pilot was a local who was going home for the night. When he realized that I was his only passenger, he quickly invited me to sit next to him at the very front of the plane.
As we climbed higher into the night sky, the pilot encouraged me to lean closer to the curved window at the front of the plane. He assured me that this was the best way to view the myriad of stars on display. The glow from the stars was brilliant, and became even more so the farther we got from the lights of San Juan. I had never been so close to twinkling stars, it felt as though I was among them.
As we made the short descent into St. John, I was briefly sad to see the constellations get smaller and smaller. But one first was replaced by another. I had never been the only passenger in a plane, and I had never had the pilot morph into personal taxi driver. It turned out that the pilot lived close to the marina that I was going to. He was concerned about a young girl getting a taxing alone at such a late hour.
After he filled out all the necessary flight paperwork, the pilot and I zipped away in his small car. Following a quick stop to pick up his girlfriend at work, the friendly couple deposited me at the marina entrance. The pilot tipped his hat out the window, waving merrily as he drove away. It was a memorable beginning to what would be a wonderful vacation at sea.
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