Imagine a sun-kissed Caribbean isle, where coconut palms sway above white sand beaches, where schools of brightly-colored tropical fish chase each other through coral mazes in crystal-clear water. This is Virgin Gorda, jewel of the British Virgin Islands.

Serendipity led me here. A business trip to St. Thomas afforded me the opportunity to spend a weekend sightseeing. I scanned the Internet for sites of interest in the Virgin Islands. St. Thomas tempted with its beautiful strand of beach at Magens Bay, and St. John tried to lure me with hiking trails through thick jungle. But my love of geology won as I read about the Baths, a picturesque coastline strewn with boulders, and I saw the words "old copper mine." I quickly bought my ferry ticket to Virgin Gorda and set off on an exhilarating thirty-mile ride through Drake’s Passage, past the fabled Treasure Island of Robert Louis Stevenson fame and onward to find some treasures of my own.

THE BATHS

As the ferry pulled away from the shoreline of Tortola, I could see the boulders in the distance. They loomed over the landscape, dwarfing the sailboats at anchor, dominating the shoreline in a playful jumble. An anomaly in the Caribbean, these glistening white granite monuments appeared during an ancient outpouring of volcanic forces into the sea. Sailors come from around the globe to snorkel the crystalline waters and to enjoy secluded beaches at the Baths, a National Park protecting the fragile ecosystems above and below the shoreline.

A short and inexpensive taxi ride took me from the ferry dock to the Baths. Two trails diverged into the National Park; I took the one less traveled, applying bug spray to fend off the mosquitoes before setting off into the thick underbrush. A green valley stretched before me, with the tops of immense boulders peeping out of a confusion of tropical vegetation. Cacti fought for the sunny spots between vivid red flamboyant trees and sea grapes, thick, squat cacti, flowering cacti clinging to rocks, and thin, pipe-stemmed cacti growing in bunches like a pipe organ. The trail, all sand and granite, led down, down, down to a stunning finish at Devil’s Bay. Framed by sea grapes and massive boulders, the deep blue waters shimmered with a play of colors only seen in the Caribbean Sea. Snorkelers and divers frolicked in the gentle waves, searching for their own private views of the coral reefs below.

After drinking in the view, I sought out the trail through the Baths, and was not disappointed. Proper outfitting for this hike included aqua shoes and a bathing suit. A maze between boulders larger than houses, the trail dipped into glittering grottoes awash in blue waters, clambered up and over boulders on narrow boardwalks, squeezed through low passageways, and splashed through long corridors of knee-deep water. Ropes and ladders proved handy aids on some of the climbs. I saw hummingbirds the size of bumblebees dancing in and out of the flowers of the sea grapes, and I followed the tracks of a small sea turtle to its hiding place under a boulder. In the water, crabs scuttled away as I approached. Granite slabs served as homes for brilliant purple and green blooms of algae.

The trail’s far terminus ended at a cove decorated with more boulders and waving coconut palms. A stairway led up through a natural tropical forest, alive with chameleons, iguanas, and geckoes – Virgin Gorda is home to the world’s smallest lizard, a gecko that only grows ¾ of an inch long – and emerged back on the plateau at the top of the Baths. The panorama to the west encompassed the Valley, where homes competed with boulders for size.

My accommodations – discovered and arranged online – turned out to be an unexpected delight. Virgin Gorda is a millionaires’ playground, with exclusive resorts such as Little Dix Bay, Biras Creek, and Bitter End. I chose simpler fare at Fischer’s Cove Beach Resort, an intimate resort with 14 rooms and several cottages, splashed in shades of lilac, pink, and aqua. Hunks of copper-stained quartz lined the walkways; big round granite boulders accented the gardens. Salt-tinged trade winds flowed through the shuttered windows of my airy room. In the open air lobby, I sat in a rocking chair, watching the sunset. A tiny green lizard paused along the railing. Perhaps a miniature gecko? A colorful bannaquit fluttered by, looking for a sugary treat. Waves caressed the coral-strewn shore. A perfect end to the day.

COPPERMINE POINT

The next morning, I set out on a taxi tour to see the rest of the island. My driver, Mr. Huggins, doubled as dinner chef at Fischer’s Cove – I’d enjoyed his excellent conch, plantain, and jonnycakes the night before.

I made it clear to Mr. Huggins that an extended stop at Coppermine Point was my focus for the trip. After the pavement ended and we continued along a rugged dirt track on a plateau well above the ocean waves below, I was glad he was driving a jeep. Splashes of cuprite and bornite stained the dusty roadcuts. A blue speckle of azurite gleamed next to a "flow" of chrysocolla down a wall of quartz.

We stopped in front of an official sign and a ghostly ruin set high above the sea. The Spanish first came to the island during the 1500s, reputedly Christopher Columbus chasing gold in the Arawak legend of "shining rocks" – which turned out to be mica. But their exploration turned up quartz laced with copper veins. From their home base in Puerto Rico they sent miners to excavate and remove the native copper. By 1737, they considered the island tapped out and moved on to richer territories.

Thanks to recent research prompted by yachtsman Philip McColl – a strong supporter of the preservation of this classic mine – and the efforts of researcher Frank Birchall, some of the long-lost history of the mine has come to light in various British publications.

In 1835, the newly formed Virgin Islands Mining Company of Liverpool sent a group of Cornish miners to reopen the mine. They sunk the first mine shaft in 1838, finding a lode averaging two feet wide "with a great deal of strong native copper." Ore, containing on average twenty percent copper, was shipped by sailboat on a six week journey across the Atlantic to the smelters at Swansea, Wales. In 1841, 47 tons of ore made it to the smelters. In 1842, 154 tons were shipped. And in 1843, the company went bankrupt due to the immense cost of operating the venture.

MINING AND ADVENTURE

In March 1859 the "Virgin Gorda Mining Adventure" took up the operation, carrying supplies – including rail for the underground tracks – and men to work the mines. Their goal: to drive a shaft 240 feet deep. Since no remains of rail have been found on the island, it’s assumed they met their goal, and the tracks lie deeply buried beneath the mountain. But the operating costs again proved to be the adventure’s folly; it closed in 1862. From that point on, it passed from hand to hand between mining speculators, all eager to look into reports of molybdenum, gold and silver. But Coppermine Point never reopened as a commercial venture, despite exploratory drilling in the 1970s.

The ruins, which beckoned to McColl and Birchall as they sailed by, comprise the remains of a classic Cornish engine house and crushing plant, constructed of the same granite found at the Baths. Through their efforts, rebuilding has begun. A sign posted by a university group from Cornwall, which has led the archeological investigation of the mine works, states that thirty different minerals have been discovered and identified within the park’s bounds. Unfortunately, they neglect to tell us which ones! But since the property is a National Park, collecting here is explicitly not permitted. Open mine shafts still hide behind boulders and under brambles, so it’s best to stick to the marked trails. But standing on this windswept mountaintop, looking down on a turquoise sea, it’s humbling to consider the obstacles the Spanish and British overcame in their efforts to extract copper from this island.

My taxi tour continued for another two hours. From Gorda Peak (1,331 feet) I could see the entire sweep of the island, back to the Baths. The Baths extended into the sea and re-emerged as Fallen Jerusalem, an island sanctuary inaccessible due to its lack of sandy shoreline. Beyond, a volcanic cone rose out of the sea. From the ferry, that small island’s shape had been indistinct. Perhaps the ultimate source of the granite boulders? On the north side of Gorda Peak, the remainder of the island curved below my feet— the verdant hills of North Sound, and its exclusive resorts.

Only ten miles long, much of the island is lush jungle criss-crossed by hiking trails, and there are plenty of scenic pulloffs along the road. Most tempting are the central beaches, so secluded and pristine, with crystal-clear water. Even more tempting—the glimmer of chrysocolla, cuprite, and bornite (and the tell-tale patterns of dendrites) in the roadcuts near these beaches! Alas, in a taxi, I didn’t have a chance to stop and investigate my hunch that there would be very good collecting indeed on Virgin Gorda.

Lush mountains with hiking trails, intriguing wildlife, beautiful beaches, coral reefs with tropical fish, massive boulders to play under, and colorful copper minerals. Now this is a rockhound’s Caribbean paradise!

VISITING VIRGIN GORDA

Best accessed from the US Virgin Islands, Virgin Gorda can be approached by small plane from St. Thomas, by ferry (with a stopover on Tortola, total travel time 3 hours) from St. Thomas or St. John, or by private boat. Once you arrive, taxi drivers will be happy to cart you and your luggage off to your destination. For a list of lodgings, contact the British Virgin Islands tourist board at 212-696-0400. The islands use U.S. currency. A passport is necessary to visit.

To fully experience the island, rent a car—or better yet, a jeep. Even for a day. Virgin Gorda is small enough that you’ll be able to investigate roadside minerals to your heart’s content, and with the exception of the road out to the end of Coppermine Point, all of the roads are good solid, wide paved roads. Driving, however, is on the left. But with a population of less than 4,000 people, you won’t meet many cars—nor will you find any hardware stores. Bring a small set of tools if you plan to poke around in roadcuts. And be sure to stop at the Mine Shaft Café on Coppermine Road to experience lunch in a replica of a mine head!