Mosquitos in the Virgin Islands
I moved to the Virgin Islands on Sept 08, 1991. After a single night at Magen's Point Resort on St. Thomas, just above Magens Bay, I jumped on the ferry to St. John, large backpack weighing me down.
The intent was to stay at Cinnamon Bay Campgrounds until I found a job and a place to live. I expected this to be a challenge, but was totally up for it. Hell, if I survived four years of college in Boulder, Colorado, AND GRADUATED, then I knew I could survive anything. And I truly believed that. Until....
I met the Cinnamon Bay mosquito population during a rainy September on St. John. Wow. These things were everywhere. And what I didn't understand at that time was, I swelled up and itched like crazy with every last bite. They were ruthless. I burned a copy of DRACULA as an attempted sign of respect / begging for leniency. But they bit on. I wore long pants and sleeves, as that seemed easier than fighting the heat. But it was too late, they found every last bit of skin that showed during a day, and attacked it with the vengeance of a beaten dog turned rabid. It was horrible.
So I turned within myself, searching for a hidden meaning in this form of life. What was my purpose here? To support an overabundant population of bloodsuckers? That wasn't it, I saw plenty of tourists that looked much tastier to a bloodsucker than my alcohol soaked self. Then I figured it out. I was put on this earth to kill all of the mosquitos. All of them.
Fortunately for the mosquitos, I was mistaken. I found I was much better at pouring drinks and sailing boats. But my drive to kill them all also dissipated, as I learned that once you live down here for some time, you get used to the venom. The mosquitos are still bothersome, but you don't swell up, and you don't itch. The mosquitos leave that to unsuspecting tourists.
So, if you are thinking like I did, and want to kill all the mosquitos in the world, then maybe you want to reconsider. Just move down here instead, it is MUCH easier.