“Red nuts and gin.”

Within this phrase somewhere was great wisdom, the secret to enlightenment, or so Seddy at the corner of the bar instructed us.

This was the venerable A&B Bar, a Jost Van Dyke institution older than anyone can remember, named for husband and wife owners Alan and Beryl, the kind of pure, honest bar that is the fulcrum of West Indian hospitality.

Of course, we’d have never stopped here if not for an instant torrent of rain on the road in Great Harbour, which brought our group under the nearest roof where we were soon taking Brugal Rum, neat, despite the warnings of the crowd.

But without the downpour, we’d have never met people like Seddy or Albert or the bartender Stephanie, who opened the door to the real Jost van Dyke and let us peer inside.

Bartender Stephanie Irish.

This is the friendliest bar in Jost van Dyke, a place known for its bars.

“Red nuts and gin,” or, unscrambled: understanding, the kind of thing you find in bars like the A&B.

— CJ