Adventures in Paradise

Story and Photos by: David Walworth

[David Walworth, St. Croix, US Virgin Islands, came to see that his life in the Virgin Islands was incomplete without a Land Rover. Here’s how he experienced his epiphany. –ed]



Two decades ago my life with a ’63 MG Midget MK I, a ’69 Austin America and a ’51 Singer 9 4A seemed complete. Three events transformed my life. First, I saw the movie “The Gods Must Be Crazy” and decided that, if I ever got a truck, it would be a Land Rover. Second, after a year-long program in boat design at The Landing School of Boatbuilding and Design in Kennebunkport, ME, I started building boats at Goetz Custom Boats in Bristol, RI.

A broken crankshaft in the MG necessitated the search for a new ride. Eventually I found a ‘67 109 diesel SW in my price range. It had everything desired except for RHD. After being shipped up from North Carolina, I discovered it would not start. Hmm, it’s awfully smoky, too. Hmm, it’s on power. Finally, while looking at the engine, the solution dawned on me. The injection pump lines were hooked up 1-4-3-2, not 1-3-4-2. With that fixed all of a sudden I had much more power and nowhere near as smoky a ride.



On visits to New Haven, I met Michelle Peterson, then a grad student at Yale. Along with others she had accepted my offer that anyone who came up to Bristol to help sand and paint my Atalanta 26 sailboat would go sailing that summer. Several people came up, and after sanding, we went out for beer and pizza. Michelle demonstrated her exceptional courage by jumping in the Land Rover with me. Thus began her slippery slope into our life together. She sailed with me that summer and continued her studies as I attended grad school in Naval Architecture at MIT.

I learned that with overdrive, a tailwind and downhill slopes on I-95, a 109” diesel station wagon can actually hit an indicated 70 mph. I lived on the sailboat at a marina in Charlestown, MA, with parking for the 109” right on the pier in the winter. During the summer season, however, the marina provided valet parking at a nearby garage. I taught the valets how to start and turn off a 109” diesel, which is a little different than your average Mercedes or BMW.

Michelle finished her Ph.D. in cell biology and started a post doctoral fellowship at Duke, so the visits now involved AA (American Airlines, not the other). As our wedding in April 1996 approached, she had still never driven the Land Rover – due mainly to her total lack of experience with manual transmissions and an admonition from her mother about the suicidal tendencies of Boston drivers. Still, the groom’s cake at our wedding was a replica of the 109”.



My new post would be at Gold Coast Yachts in St. Croix, US Virgin Islands. To prep the Land Rover for the move, we took it to Vermont and had Brett Cooper complete many drivetrain and brake system repairs on the car. As I had damaged the steering column removing the tranny at one time (Note to self: when using a forklift to lift out the gearbox, pay attention and do not get the tip of the fork under the steering wheel), we decided to go ahead and convert it to RHD (we drive on the left here in St. Croix). So now I had the last option on the Rover list.



Work left me no time to teach Michelle to drive the Land Rover so she learned on her own. Now, this actually worked well as drivers on St. Croix are very polite and very good about letting people out in traffic, to the point where the people on the main road, with right of way, will actually stop. Clearly we’re not in Boston anymore. Soon Michelle can double clutch in and out of second like a pro. She likes the upright sitting position, and even the diesel rumble is kind of fun, plus the steering gives you a workout.

Even on St. Croix a cute blonde driving a ‘67 109 Land Rover provides a unique experience. It is the only 109” wagon on the road down here (although there is a 110 wagon with the TD 5). It’s even part of island lore now. One day Michelle and her mother are doing the tourist thing and step into a store for the first time. The store owner asks if they are interested in signing a petition (something to do with a project at the Hess oil refinery here). The store owner says, “You can both sign if you are related, as long as one of you lives here.” Michelle says “I live here, my husband is the new naval architect at Gold
Coast Yachts.” The store owner looks at her and says, “Oh, you’re the doctor that drives the Land Rover.” Now remember, she has never been in this store before this moment…



James Taylor’s book about Series Land Rovers reported that Land Rovers are stable to 45 degrees of heel; one day, I inadvertently tested this. We live up a dirt road halfway up a mountainside. The Guinea grass here grows fast and tall. There was this place (now called “Michelle’s Overlook”) where the Guinea grass concealed the true edge of the roadway. I pulled over to the left to let our neighbor pass by and felt the wheel fall into a bit of a hole. The car stops. No problem, pull back on the red lever and off I go. The car still does not move. Meanwhile, Brett, the neighbor, has stopped his car, jumped out and run over to us, with a distinctly alarmed expression on his face. I had no idea about the seriousness of our situation until I got out and looked: the left front wheel tilted downward over the edge and the right rear wheel clawed the air. Despite the list, the 109 was still stable. Eventually, with the help of a floor jack and a come along, the 109” was dragged sideways back onto the road. While I missed my dentist appointment, I did gain further confidence in the Rover’s abilities.

Meanwhile, in true Rover addict fashion, I decided I wanted my own 88”. While the 109” is nice, I wanted the shorter wheelbase one for maneuverability. Plus, an 88” looked cute. My requirements: it had to be a ‘67 or earlier (as I prefer the look of the headlights in the breakfast); RHD (as I only shift with my left hand); and a diesel, as with the rains and roads here you can go through big puddles (I liked the concept of no ignitions system to drown out). A galvanized frame would be nice, too. Eventually, on LRX.com we found an 88” that had everything but the diesel. A friend in Boulder, Colorado agreed to look at it for me and gave a good report. After mailing a certified check the “Little Red Rover” arrived on St. Croix.

Meanwhile, our boat sat on her trailer for some work to the keel trunks. We decided to bring her up to our place so it would be easier to work on her and to stop paying rental fees that would make the Mafia jealous at the boatyard. The 109”, being a diesel and equipped with a Salisbury (I swapped one in while at MIT), seemed to be the better choice. We enlisted our landlord, Roy, who is always up for an adventure, to help us. At the bottom of our hill, we made our simple plan. Roy said, “put your foot on the floor, do what I tell you and don’t look back.” There were occasional noises of whoa, look at that, etc., but I remembered my part of the plan and carried on. We made it to our place no problem.

Michelle delights in driving her 88”; students from the University of the Virgin Islands, her employer, wave to her on the roads. Everyone knows “Dr. P’s” car. But one night, she decides not to drive and calls for me to pick her up. It was starting to rain pretty hard when I left to go to the university. There was water everywhere. This gut across the road near the bottom of our hill filled up with roaring water. I put it into low range and tested it. Almost immediately the front wheels started moving sideways. I slammed it into reverse and backed it out. We decided to try a different route. That bridge was also under water. We tried yet another route. This route was along the Scenic Road, a dirt road along the top of a ridge. We reasoned the water accumulates at the bottom of the hill, so stay on the top of the hill. We motor along the road, and suddenly there is this waterfall where the road used to be. We stop and check it out. I open the driver’s door, step out, and realize that the water is starting to run over the edge of the road where we are, I can see the road eroding as I am looking at it. Michelle guides me back to a place where we can turn around. We continue back and go yet one more route.

In the meantime, the rain has abated and the roads seem less flooded. We get to the bottom of our hill and start heading up the hill. Still there’s a hole in the road bigger than the 88”. We back down the road to a safe place to leave the car.



We walk the rest of the way. Our normal 15 minute ride from UVI has now taken at least an hour and a half. Of course, adventures like this are one of the reasons we love living here and driving Land Rovers.

In the morning, we walk down and clear some bush around the hole. Michelle can stand in this hole, which is the width of the road, and the road way is at her shoulder. To get by, you have to drive sort of on the side of the hill. No problem – that’s what the red lever is for. Now we’re in downtown Gallows Bay and there I break a rear axle shaft. I push down the yellow knob and we drive home in front wheel drive. I wonder how the 88” will negotiate past the hole on a slope covered with wet grass, mud and front wheel drive only. It won’t – the front wheels start spinning and sliding toward the hole. Being an engineer is good for something; I back down and turn the car around. Michelle gets out to direct me – plus, there is now someone to run up the hill and call 911. I start reversing up the hill and there is plenty of grip. I get her lined up and nail it. The 88” just cruises right by the giant hole. Michelle jumps in, I stick her into 3rd low range and up we go to our space. Did I forget to mention that it had started to rain again? Another tropical wave was coming through.

We grab a spare set of axle shafts, some gear oil, the drain pan and some tools and drive the 88 down to Roy’s shop. Now the power goes out, but we have changed axle shafts before. Under the car with a flashlight we commence removing axle shafts, draining oil, pulling the differential. We get the broken bits out, new shafts in, new oil and off we go.

In the meantime, the poor 109 had serious frame problems. We purchased a new Marsland frame through Rovers North and had it drop shipped from the UK, which worked fine and was considerably cheaper shipping wise. As the bulkhead was both bent and rusty, we sourced one and began the laborious process of changeover.

For two years, we had a side job taking air samples for the US Geological Survey. The tool used to collect samples is a small vacuum pump pulling air through a filter. The pump runs off an inverter hooked up to the car’s battery. Naturally, the bonnet is up in this operation. Frequently, people would see the bonnet up and ask if we needed help. Then, when we said no, they would see the mechanism and ask what we were doing. It was a fun way to meet people. One day this man and his family stop by; they’re Morgan and Mini owners. We talk for a bit and he takes a picture. A month later, this letter arrives at UVI. The address reads:
University of the Virgins Islands, St. Croix Campus
Lady Professor who drives Land Rover
St. Croix, USVI

It arrived in her box on campus four days after the postmark. In it is a page from the Morgan Car Club newsletter with the picture he took.

We are frequently approached in parking lots and at petrol stations and asked if we are interested in selling our Rovers. Every time we say “no,” and we’re likely to continue that line for a long time.

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