GREEN THUMB: Unmasking St. Croix’s ‘Screw Pine’ — The Pineapple Imposter Lurking Near Your Lawn Chair

By JOHN McCARTHY / St. Croix Sun News Reporter

ST. CROIX — If you’ve spent any time driving along our coastal roads or glancing past the edge of a well-kept Crucian yard, you’ve undoubtedly spotted it. Standing resiliently in the sandy soil, often sharing shade with a trusty plastic lawn chair, is a tree that looks like a cross between a palm on a caffeine rush and a rogue pineapple patch.

Local resident Maurice Lester Maduro recently took to the STX Plant Identification group on Facebook to ask the burning question: “Can anyone identify this? Is it a Palm? What is the fruit called?”

The short answer? It’s not a palm, and you definitely don't want to throw that "pineapple" into a blender for a morning smoothie.

ISLAND EXOTIC: The distinctive spiraling fronds and pineapple-like compound fruit of a local Screw Pine (Pandanus) tree. This photograph originally sparked a lively botanical discussion when a query regarding its identity was published this morning to the STX Plant identification group on Facebook. (Photo courtesy of Maurice Lester Maduro)

Meet the Pandanus, more affectionately known throughout the region as the Screw Pine.

While its long, sword-like fronds give off a distinct tropical vibe, a closer look reveals nature's unique architecture. The leaves don't just sprout wildly; they grow out of the branches in a tight, geometric spiral—giving the "Screw" Pine its name. Look further down, and you’ll see a system of sturdy, stilt-like aerial prop roots lifting the trunk off the ground, built specifically to anchor the tree against fierce coastal winds and shifting sands.

But it’s the fruit that always stops amateur horticulturists in their tracks. Hanging heavily from the branches is a massive, textured green compound fruit. It looks exactly like a giant pinecone or an exotic pineapple. As these fruits mature, the individual segments (called keys or phalanges) will loosen, turning vibrant shades of orange and red.

It’s a staple of the unvarnished landscape of St. Croix—resilient, slightly strange, and perfectly at home right next to the spontaneous backdrops of everyday island life. So the next time you see one while out on a Sunday drive, you can tell your passengers with full confidence: That’s a Pandanus, and it’s as Crucian as they come.