BOMBA’S FAMOUS SURFSIDE SHACK AND ITS HISTORY & SNORKELING AN ENDANGERED ELKHORN CORAL FOREST
It’s important to keep history alive by sharing meaningful moments of your past so they are not lost to the curiosity of future generations.
“It amazes me how mountainous the Caribbean islands are,” I said while in a cab riding through the countryside of Tortola heading for Bomba’s. “When we were on Megan’s Bay, I noticed how dark the water was where steep mountain sides protruded up from beneath the deep blue waters that met their steep shorelines. It’s such a beautiful contrast here between the shallow pale aqua waters near shore above the white sandy flat beaches and the dark blues that run adjacent to each other in all the islands here. The whales help me realize the magnitude of just how deep this water can be.”
“Yes,” Debbie agreed. “Scott Turner, a writer, stated it profoundly, yet simply, in one of his articles. ‘The ‘Caribbean Islands are just mountains up to their necks in water’. Such a creative way to describe what we are not able to see below the mountains. The creation of the Caribbean islands happened over millions of years with a series of tectonic movements and sea level fluctuations. Many tourists come here, in fact, just to hike the mountains. Some mountains in the Caribbean islands reach over 9,000 feet altitude. All hikes are lush and scenic, as you can imagine.”
“I can imagine. What an image, indeed.”
After spotting the whales in the Atlantic off the north end of Tortola, we finally reached the North Bay Road and turned left heading West toward our destination of Bomba’s Surfside Shack. We traveled several miles and I tried to catch views of the Caribbean between the trees, but I wasn’t able to see much due to the lush landscape that surrounded us on the narrow and winding road. I didn’t see any houses or signs of life actually. Because it was a popular destination, I expected at least some traffic, but that didn’t exist either. The landscape was beautiful and untouched, appearing to belong only to nature. And we pretty much had the island at this end to ourselves on this Carnival Day that drew people to St. Thomas.
“This is why we have a taxi,” Debbie interrupted my thoughts. “I’ve gotten lost in Tortola in the past. It’s a rather small island, however, the largest of the British Virgin Isles, and has some very secluded areas in the countryside. I’ve gone off on some back roads and didn’t know exactly where I was until I reached a shoreline, that eventually would lead me to a surfside restaurant or bar. Always a good place to rest your brain and get reoriented. It’s a great place to get lost, however. It’s like driving in your own dream world with no destination in mind except to enjoy the beauty of the lush countryside, the palms and pristine white beaches. What’s nice about islands is that you can drive around their outer perimeters and stay on the beach roads. The head from which you came will take you all the way down to the tail and back to its head again. Ah, home sweet home.”
“My kind of world,” I responded. “After all, that’s why people are here. To vegetate and create their own quiet reality and escape the maddening crowds.”
“Why I love snorkeling,” Deb replied. “I’m the ultimate dip taking a dip.”
“Ah yes,” she went on, “As if this Caribbean world isn’t enough on dry dock, I can even find a new type of colorful world in and on the water. Once I tried snorkeling, I couldn’t get enough of it. It’s so amazingly peaceful. You hear nothing but your own breathing like a soft beat that repels your thoughts quietly through the water in complete buoyancy never fighting gravity. Especially, in the salt water. A cubic foot of salt water has more molecules in it than a cubic foot of fresh water and, therefore, weighs more. In the ocean, water molecules pack themselves tightly around the salt molecules—squeezing closer together than they do when the salt is not present. Saltwater is more buoyant than fresh water. In fact, the difference between saltwater and freshwater has been stated as negative seven pounds per cubic foot of saltwater. That’s why divers have to use weights to help them sink in saltwater.”
“You’re so profound, Debbie. I bet you loved Science in school. This is the best place to learn how to float your own boat,” I surmised. “By the way, I’m convinced Saltwater cleanses and recharges brain cells through osmosis.” I learn through osmosis.
“Won’t be long now, maybe just a couple more miles and we’ll be there,” the Taxi driver assured us.
There was no traffic at all. Amazing. I was grateful I didn’t have to car dodge on this trip. The driver drove down the middle of the unlined narrow roads most of the time. All this beauty and no one here to see it. And there it was, as the taxi driver pulled up to a shack sitting alone…which I would call a lean-to. It was a homemade, ah…. shack building basically covered in boards of all types and sizes, including old surfboards and driftwood that was dependent upon gravity to just stand upright, sort of. The roof was covered with sheets of metal held down by boards and driftwood. It was right on the water, in a beautiful white sand inlet, known as Cappoon’s Bay or Apple Bay. There was writing on everything, which had accumulated over the years as guests came by and left their personal messages.
We exited the taxi, and tipped the cabbie with the assurance we would be able to get a cab back to Road Town later to catch our Ferry to St. Thomas.
“Wow…” was all I could say. It was truly a slightly organized dump. Yet a historical treasure in its own right. We began walking around the shack, which was kept neat, even in its own rogue appearance. I was surprised to see that you could go inside to a dark area that had a few dark clapboard picnic tables squeezed in for seating. Old colorful surf boards were leaning along the walls covered in signatures, graffiti, drawings and writings. We only went inside to use the outhouse….inhouse? I personally expected just a strong wind would blow this place into itself. I must have had ‘that look’ on my face…was it terror or wonder?
“Not to worry, I know it looks rough. But this guy, Bomba, who was a famous surfer on the islands, loved this beach and even though he didn’t have any money, he wanted to share it with surfers and beach lovers. He decided to build his own little shack on the property he leased and opened the area to his friends. The waters here are usually calm this time of year, but in the winter the northern winds blow right into this bay and carry the white capped rolling waves in quickly and with force from the deeper waters in the Atlantic. When you get on the beach you will see the darker deeper waters just up the beach to the west right off the steeper shoreline. That’s where we will snorkel as the elkhorn coral colony is there.”
We walked up to the front of the shack that faced the water. There was a large yellow sign inside behind a plywood counter painted with dark lettering that offered ‘Scrambled Eggs & Mushrooms’, ‘Herbal Tea’ with unknown herbals, and ‘Bomba Punch’ that is claimed to ‘pack a wallop’.
As we stood there, a tall gentleman in a small straw hat walked up to us. “Welcome to Bombas! What can I do for you young ladies on this most beautiful day on Cappoons Bay?’
“Well, we brought a couple of snacks and some water with us. We are just going to go up the beach a ways and snorkel. We may stop back later for some punch,” I replied.
“You must come back for some tea or punch. It is world famous, you know. And I make delicious mushroom scrambled eggs. Because it is a very quiet day, I can mix them up for you anytime. Just let me know.”
“Thank you, Bomba,” Debbie replied. “We will stop by to see you later. Need to snorkel while the winds are still kind to us.”
“Hov’a nice day, Mon!” he said smiling, and disappeared into the darkness inside the shack.
“Trust me,” Debbie said as we walked up the beach toward our snorkel spot, “We won’t be having any scrambled mushroom eggs or drinks here.”
“I wasn’t exactly contemplating it,” I replied. “Guess the board of health doesn’t exist here,” I laughed.
“Jack comes down here and plays with his band sometimes. Not during the Full Moon, but on quieter nights. Bomba is a very nice man. This place is famous for its Full Moon Parties. People come from all over the islands to celebrate here with tourists who stop by for the fun. The punch is flowing, and the eggs will be scrambled in large iron pans. There will be music well into the night, and oftentimes, overnight. There will be a band and people will dance on the beach and a lot of other things we probably would not be interested in seeing. Very popular, indeed. Other food and drinks are available during the full moon parties. The mushrooms are hallucinogenic, as is the punch & herbal tea.”
“Not my cup of tea, for sure,” I admitted. “My son had me smoke pot with him one night when he graduated from high school. ‘com ’on, mom. Give it a try.’ He lit a joint and told me to inhale and hold my breath. I did and it burned my throat with what felt like fire as I coughed the smoke out. He showed me how to not choke on it and I got a little buzzed. My mind was on one side of the couch and my body was on the other. I remember holding onto the pillow for dear life. I didn’t like not being in control. He’d ask me a question and it seemed like minutes later before I could grasp what he said and ask my brain for an answer. I do admit, I laughed quite a bit, but never really liked the stuff or how it tasted or what it did to my few brain cells.”
“Jack and I don’t mess with drugs. They are easy to get here, but some are getting way too dangerous. He’ll smoke a joint with his band buddies once in a while. Just not my thing either. I have enough trouble thinking without that to help me be completely out of it,” Debbie contended. “There aren’t many crimes here, but when there is one, it is always drug related. We don’t allow guns, and we may have one murder here a year and it’s always drug related.”
“Here’s a good spot to go in the water,” she said, as she tossed her gear bag down and sat her small cooler below a palm tree in the shade. “Let’s get our snorkel gear on,” she said.
I slipped off my shorts, shirt, and flip flops. I was glad we had put our bathing suits on at home. There was nowhere at Bomba’s to do that. I slipped on my flippers first, then adjusted my goggles and picked up the snorkel. “I’m ready if you are. Let’s do this,” I said. I couldn’t wait to get the fine sand off my seat and legs after sitting on it to put my flippers on.
“The water will be very shallow for just a few feet and then there will be a pretty quick drop off. Be ready for it. That is where the elkhorn coral colony begins. It’s amazing and, hopefully, you will see some really incredible fish. It’s a nice calm day. Just be aware of where I am as you can follow me and go off on your own a few yards, but not very far. You should always dive with your partner for safety…that goes for snorkeling, also.”
“Got it, coach. You’re talking to the choir.” Water was already up to my knees, then waist and above so I lay on top of the giant waterbed to let the Caribbean Sea lift me. It always feels good to get a load off your feet. The Sea is a beautiful mattress. The waves were rolling in gently in a light sea breeze. Within a minute or so I could no longer see the bottom, and before I knew it there loomed what appeared to be true giant Elkhorns right before my eyes. Oh my God, they were amazing! They grew to a height just within 12 inches under the surface. I looked down to see the base of the mighty coral and only saw a few feet of their fat long trunks that reached upward with arms like saguaro cactus with elkhorn shaped arms and fingers connected to them extended upward and outwards beneath the surface. I couldn’t see the bases as they were in sand that blurred the view as it swirled from the current and from the tidal motion below. I hoped there was nothing looming below me as I really couldn’t see more than 5 feet or so below my goggles.
I looked up and saw Debbie several feet ahead. I moved left into deeper water and saw the elkhorns go on and on both sides of me as if I were literally in a water forest…where I had a birds-eye view. It was unbelievable. I felt frozen in time as I tried to take it all in. Truly, the underwater ocean is an unexplored everchanging living water world all its own, always in motion. I was encapsulated in this breathing, living expansive being.
Elkhorn coral grows 6 feet high and its arms can be as long as 43 inches. It officially grows in ‘colonies’, which in my mind, I refer to them as forests. They are very healthy and can grow 5” a year. It is the fastest growing coral in the world. Sadly, most are lost due to hurricanes and climate change which has caused at least a 5% loss of living coral a year.
I realized I hadn’t seen one fish…perhaps because we were at least in eight feet of water. I couldn’t see any in front of me or below me. I hoped the sand that was moving below had nothing to do with an unseen sea creature I should be leery of. I usually don’t allow these thoughts in the water with me…but unexpected things can happen and I do my best to erase them, even though I am always subconsciously aware that there could be imminent danger nearby.
Then, as I was asking myself, ‘where are the fish?’ a large angel fish swam slowly by on my right, almost at face level. It was huge compared to those I have seen in aquariums…measuring about 12” in length and 6” high. The fish was beautiful and had no fear, but swam parallel 8” past me on my right side as if I were merely a log floating by. It was going very slowly and had the grace of a butterfly. It glowed in the sun rays from above, a beautiful yellow, contrasting with its black vertical stripes. And there, behind this fearless graceful leader came a school of at least ten more, moving as slowly and gracefully, posing as if for a canvas painting in their radiant flat bodies, using their dorsal and tail fins to guide them like sails as their pectoral fins propelled them along in slow undulation with the slight wave motion. It was another out-of-body experience that I was beholding as I lay still in this time lapse atop the water in wonder. Another gallery image that I can still see at this very moment while sitting at a computer thousands of miles, and forty years, away from the tropics on a cold, snowy winter’s eve. I truly believe these types of amazing experiences level the sanity of our minds through life. We are, as humans fluctuating after all in a Pedalium of our perceptions in life. At the high end, the best memories, and at the low end the worst, those memories we’d choose to forget.
When the school had passed, I lifted my face out of the water and saw Debbie several yards ahead and removed my snorkel. “Did you see those angel fish? They were beautiful!” I exclaimed as she turned and swam towards me.
“I did. I was hoping you wouldn’t miss them. Aren’t they amazing?”
“I had no idea they got that big! We had an aquarium when I was a kid and they were about 2” long. These were giants…and so graceful.”
“Yes, they swim very slowly. But they can turn on a dime with their fins if something startles them. I’m so happy they continued back your way. I was being careful not to startle them as they passed me. And, what do you think of the Elkhorn?”
“My goodness, I had no idea they got that tall and were that big. It seems they go on and on. But, I haven’t seen any other fish.”
“They are hard to see in this water. It’s pretty deep for snorkeling and a little cloudy below from the current. It appears the tide is coming in. Either that or the palm tree is creeping gradually closer to the water. I’m guessing there are many more fish down there, we just can’t see them.”
“As long as there is nothing scary down there, I’m okay.”
“No scary fish here, I can assure you. I’ve been snorkeling here for years and have never encountered a shark in these waters. We just don’t hear of them here. Believe it or not, we’ve been out here well over two hours already and my shoulders are feeling a little sunburned. Wanna head in?”
“Sure, I’ve seen enough to make me happy. But time stands still while you’re in the water…and I hate to put my own weight back into the hands of gravity after that relaxing float.”
“I so agree, who needs a spa? There is no coral reef here, unless you want to go to another beach.””
“I’m Okay. I’m a little hungry and thirsty anyway. Let’s go eat those sandwiches we made.”
We headed back to shore and laid out our towels after toweling off and sat on them. We each had a cold bottle of water and our lunch under the shade of the palm tree, enjoying the white sandy beach and just another paradise moment of silence, listening to the waves lap the beach as the gentle incoming waves now brought the pools of moving water near our feet. “Life can be a beautiful place, can’t it?” I said, feeling poetic. “Especially if you can just go with it…and not against it.”
“When I was a young girl and was worried about something, my mother always told me to not fret but ride the waves in and go with them rather than fight them. Eventually they would go back out and take your worries along with them,” I admitted. “That has always stayed with me and helped me get through some tough times, especially in my childhood when I felt there was no one to talk to about my personal problems.”
(I look out the window at the snow here, today…but can still feel the heat coming off the sugary white sand and my toes playing in it under the palms while straining my eyes in wonder at what else is out there in that great cobalt blue water in paradise.)
After catching up with reality, (or wait…this was my reality!) we finally stood up and headed back to Bomba’s. As we arrived there, two men walked out to the beach carrying crates, set them down, opened them and behold!! They took out their shiny steel drums and set them up on tripods next to each other. There was no one else there but Bomba and three young pale skinned tourists, which is why I pegged them as ‘tourists’.
Bomba approached us from the shack while speaking to the musicians. “Looks like the music is here, ladies. It’s not a full moon, but Bomba always has music to entertain you. Did you have a nice float? How bout some of my special punch to sooth your spirits?”
“Ah, no thank you,” I said. “We just had lunch and some water and have been snorkeling. My spirit is just fine. I’m good.”
“Me, too,” agreed Debbie. We both laughed, thinking we could get stoned and maybe never get home. Then we dropped our towels again and sat for a while to listen to some beautiful steel drum beach music. It was awesome and always draws me into some kind of trance…as in where am I?…I must be dreaming. At least an hour had passed before the musicians took a break and walked to the counter and ordered their punch.
“Guess we better find a cab,” Debbie suggested. We waved as we passed Bomba and his two musicians. “Great music!” I told them and handed them each a five. They were pleasantly surprised and gave us big smiles.
We thanked Bomba for sharing his special home with so many others around the world, including us, and I left with a tear in my eye for the man who had nothing, but had everything here in Paradise that filled him with love through sharing. We each placed money in his tip jar that sat on the counter, disguised as an old spittoon….hopefully not being used as one.
“Have a most beautiful tropical evening, ladies. Do come back to see Bomba!”
We nodded and waived as we headed around the back of the shack toward the road while reading some of the graffiti and personal notes that were written on every available space of the shack, inside and out. My favorite sign was one Bomba wrote personally that he had propped on the ocean side of his Shack: “Shack was build (sic) in 1976. Bomba build (sic) his shack to keep his wife at home. She likes to party at that time. So the shack was build (sic) so she can party at home.”
I will entertain you with some of the various chronicles and comments I have found in regards to Bomba’s Famous Surfside Shack over the years.
Who is Wellington Bomba Smith? Apparently a well know surfer in the British Islands. He built (build??) Bomba’s Surfside Shack in 1976 with whatever scraps of woods and materials he could find along the beaches. It is listed to be located on Cane Garden Bay, Apple Bay and Cappoon’s Bay, depending upon which article you read on the internet. Take your pick. You will probably always be right.
Written By: Brittany Meyers who lives aboard her sailboat in Tortola, BVI
Living in the BVI, I am no stranger to our illustrious full-moon parties. (In my experience) Starting in 1989 at the infamous (and now, sadly, destroyed) Bomba Shack, full-moon parties began to celebrate the lunar phase when the moon is completely illuminated and rumored to cause abnormal behavior in humans and animals. The parties offered a chance for tourists to carouse with other travelers as well as local islanders - offering an excuse to “go wild” - and became a monthly event. Since their inception, full moon parties have evolved and spread to other venues here and have since become ubiquitous with British Virgin Island nightlife.
Bomba, an avid surfer and native BVI Islander opened his surf shack in Cappoon’s Bay as a way to cater to the surfers that would frequent this beach. The shack itself was just that: a simple conglomeration of flotsam and jetsam found on the beach but quickly became one of the most popular bars in BVI history. Bomba’s full moon parties were wild and hedonist; locals and tourists flocked to them late at night (they often didn’t get kicking until 10 pm or later), and there they could dance to reggae beats and or/ DJ’s in the moonlight, and even indulge in Bomba’s famous “mushroom tea” which was rumored to be hallucinogenic.
After over 40 years Bomba’s Surfside Shack had become one of the most famous hangouts and party spots in the Caribbean for locals and tourists. Bomba's Shack has seen much success in the past such as E! Channel "Wild on the Caribbean" and the Back drop of "Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue". The biggest parties are on nights when the moon is full, known as Bomba's full moon parties. Because so many people came to the world famous Bomba’s Surfside Shack Full Moon Parties, Bomba expanded the Shack across the road from the original beachside Shack to what Bomba calls the “Back Yard,” which is not much more than a field where cattle graze during the daytime. Bomba has built, once again with whatever comes to him, a large bar and a bandstand where he gets some of the best local bands to rock all night during the Full Moon Party, which of course is held every month and twice a month in a blue moon.
By day, you can see that Bomba's, which is covered with everything from crepe-paper leis to ancient license plates to spicy graffiti, and some undergarments left behind by those who, I believe, vaguely remember having been there.
Visitor comments were good prior to the Hurricane, of course, then went downhill quickly. Bomba was unable to keep the place going…especially when there was no “place” left. Although I did see comments online from visitors dated 2018 that found a new shack being thrown together post hurricane and parties reviving.
It is still listed under Fodor’s.com Travel site on the internet in 2024. However, if you bring up the website in 2024, a note comes up in bright red letters “Permanently Closed”.
Hurricane Irma on September 6, 2017, destroyed Bomba’s and caused widespread destruction across the British Virgin Islands with winds of 185 mph, and gusts up to 215mph, it completely devastated the region, and destroyed Bomba’s.
Bomba’s personal Story in an Article from Ester Durand, BVI News: Headlines “Bomba Shack is coming back.”
With hopes of successful legal proceedings in relation to the location of the acclaimed tourist attraction, owner Wellington ‘Bomba’ Smith is eyeing a 2018 reopening.
“I want to go back in business around July/August after the court case and I want to take my time and build something really shack style. I have a lawyer and she told me not to worry. So, I’m not worrying,” said a bullish Smith, who is currently fighting to remain on the leased land where he has been operating for nearly 50 years.
As Smith prepares for the looming court case scheduled for June, the 75-year-old businessman has also sought to get financial assistance to rebuild the establishment.
A go-fund-me account was set up after the hurricanes to fund the rebuild, and Smith was hoping to garner at least $2,000 in donations to purchase plumbing, electrical, and building materials.
While Smith wants to rebuild an establishment by the seashore further in the future, he hopes to build his new shack opposite the location where the old structure had been erected in Cappoon’s Bay, Tortola.
The new shack would be built in front of a small wooden storeroom which he now calls home.
As Smith spoke with BVI News, he sat on an old office chair by his doorway; wearing his signature hat and time-worn clothes.
The remainder of his wardrobe has been in short supply since Hurricane Irma destroyed his business, made off with his belongings, and left him with an injury.
During the disaster, the building in which he weathered the storm sustained immense damage.
The hurricane ripped the roof from the building; causing Smith to receive a head injury from a flying missile.
“I was out for about 10 minutes. It left my eyes kind of blurry, but my sight is coming back,” he said.
After the hurricane, Smith resided with family and friends for three months before moving into the storeroom that was located opposite his destroyed shack.
The senior citizen said he now relies on others to assist him to get around because of a medical issue with his legs.
But, despite months of hardship, the 75-year-old businessman remains hopeful and in inspiringly good spirits.
According to the current British Virgin Unite Website: Unite BVI worked with donors from all over the world, filling private planes full of essential supplies (medical, food, water filtration systems, mosquito protection) and evacuation helicopters.
Hurricane Irma demonstrated just how vulnerable island nations are to the rapidly changing climate. It also highlighted the importance of having well-trained people within the community who can respond to emerging disaster situations.
On the five-year anniversary of Hurricane Irma, in 2022, and the nearness of tropical storm Earl and hurricane Fiona in 2022 brought more havoc with heavy rains and flooding reminding all those living in the region the dangers they continue to face. ‘Unite BVI’ and the wider Virgin team remain committed to assisting communities and organizations throughout these dangerous times.
So, according to my math, Bomba is 81 years old in 2024. The last I found from a visitor’s comment in 2018 was that sadly, he did not rebuild his Shack, however he lives nearby in a green shipping container. A sad ending to an old historic landmark that became “famous” simply by word of mouth, where people congregated and had fun. It is an amazing story of an old shack that drew people out of love and respect for the ocean, to share in the enjoyment of each other’s company in paradise, and be surrounded in music, sunsets and moonrises.
Sadly, I could find no further information about Bomba via the internet, whether he is living or not.
On yet another sad note in regards to this story, Elkhorn coral is now on the critical endangered list. Apparently, the colony we saw was wiped out by Hurricane Irma along with hundreds of others in the Caribbean. Elkhorn coral is being killed by the climate change, El Nino, hurricanes and has been harvested for use in making jewelry, building materials, and sold for home aquariums. Science Labs are now growing elkhorn coral, and other endangered corals, in the Caribbean and in South Florida. But, because it takes four years before the new baby elkhorn coral can be planted in the sea, it is clearly, an uphill battle. The pictures of this coral in this story are all of young coral as I could not find pictures the size of what we saw in Tortola in the 1980’s
.
(Come on people now, let’s get together….and do what’s right to change this weather!)
In retrospect….Debbie and I walked to the front of the Shack and saw two taxis parked on the side of the road. Of course, we picked the cleanest one and headed back to Road Town to catch a ferry ride back to St. Thomas.
Nothing like reading about tropical living, palm trees and beaches on a bitter cold January day.
Thanks Kate for sharing your warm adventures. 🌴