A new friend
A Beaconite recently spotted a Virgin Islands tree boa perched on a porch chair, coiling its speckled brown body between the wooden backing. The snake, whose scientific name is Chilabothrus granti, did not alarm the reporter because she knows it is harmless to humans. When the snake noticed her, it barely paid any attention to her. It just lifted its head up slightly and flicked its tongue a few times to sense its surroundings. Then when it apparently gauged that the reporter was no threat, it gently put its head back down and continued to rest. As a native of the Arizona desert where venomous rattlesnakes are common, the reporter is no stranger to dangerous snakes. But in her experience, even those that are venomous typically will not bother people unless they feel threatened. So she hopes that if anyone sees a boa in the territory (or any other snake, for that matter, since all VI snakes are harmless), they will leave it be. The VI tree boa is native to the VI, the United States VI and Puerto Rico, according to the US Fish and Wildlife Service. It is also classified as an endangered species under the International Union for Conservation of Nature Red List. The threats to the snake include human development and predation from introduced mammals such as feral cats, goats and pigs, according to the IUCN.
Gunfire, gossip and the governor
So the governor insists everything is “under control.” It’s a comforting phrase — the kind politicians and diplomats tend to use when everything obviously isn’t. Robberies up more than 50 percent, gunfire echoing in the hills, escaped inmates still enjoying the view. But not to worry: London is sending a “strategic security adviser” (because advice, not arrests, is what’s needed), and soon the territory will even have radar — which, presumably, will detect both boats and public unease. Shortly after the governor outlined these reforms in his most reassuring tone, another story was slipping through the territory faster than WhatsApp voice notes in a power outage: reports that acting Police Commissioner Jacqueline Vanterpool would be demoted back to deputy — against the advice of the Police Service Commission. And thus, the Virgin Islands entered its favourite sport: speculation. Depending on which chat you joined (and who you most dislike), the move was either (a) a necessary correction, (b) a sexist outrage, (c) proof of colonial arrogance, or (d) all of the above. Calls for protest appeared, of course. They were followed quickly by reminders that protests are rare here — until an actual protest took place Monday in front of the Governor’s Office, drawing most of the elected House of Assembly members. The irony, a Beaconite notes, is exquisite. On one hand, residents are told not to panic about rising crime. On the other hand, people are calling for marches over who gets to run the police. It seems the territory can’t decide whether it wants order restored or control returned. Both sound reassuring until you remember they aren’t the same thing. This all unfolds, naturally, during a delicate dance with the Crown over “greater self-determination.” The VI is preparing to prove it’s ready for more autonomy — while the governor quietly reminds everyone who actually signs the appointment letters. To a Beaconite, the situation seems rather like applying for autonomy in your rental property while still asking your landlord for permission to change the curtains. Still, he can’t help but admire the choreography. Crime statistics, colonial subtext and community outrage all spinning together in perfect synchrony — a national ballet performed to the soundtrack of gunfire and gossip. The governor says everyone should stay calm. The people — at least a few of them — say everyone should stand up. For now, VI residents will likely do what they usually do: debate who’s in charge, maybe protest a little, and chat about independence and taking control — all while the Crown remains the Crown.
