It happens on virtually every visit to St. Vincent and the Grenadines, these sparkling gems in the southeastern Caribbean: I lean back, close my eyes and savor paradise.
That moment came again on my most recent trip as I sat on a catamaran anchored in the popular Tobago Cays, five uninhabited islets near the tail of the Grenadines. My mouth watered as the aromas of curry chicken, fried fish, peas and rice wafted up from the galley.
Around the catamaran, red, blue and yellow fish swam through beautiful coral. On shore, tie-dyed T-shirts pinned to a line anchored by two coconut trees flapped in the cool Atlantic breeze. The T-shirt vendor sat in the shade of one of the trees, downing coconut water.
To me, this is the best of the Caribbean–simple, sweet and unpretentious. And that’s why I have returned to St. Vincent and the Grenadines again and again during the past 30 years.
I have been in love with these islands since, as an impressionable 7-year-old, I spent a year living on St. Vincent with my grandmother. I still remember tagging along on her weekly selling trips to the market or waving at her while swimming in a crystal clear river near her farmhouse.
Granny is long gone now, but I thank her often for introducing me to some of the most charming and mesmerizing islands on earth. I eagerly anticipate each visit–and dread leaving. Every time I come here, I experience something new, reinforcing my belief that these islands are a must-see on any tour of the Caribbean.
St. Vincent is the largest of more than 30 islands that comprise the independent nation, covering roughly 150 square miles. The Grenadines, a few of which are uninhabited, straddle the Atlantic Ocean and Caribbean Sea. St. Vincent is the nation’s economic and political center.
The major islands, north to south, are Young Island, Bequia (pronounced beck-way), Mustique (mus-teek), Canouan (can-no-wan), Mayreau (my-row), Union Island, Palm Island and Petit St. Vincent. Archeologists say St. Vincent was inhabited around 5000 B.C., long before Columbus arrived. A combination of Europeans and freed blacks occupied the islands in the 16th Century. St. Vincent became a British colony in 1871 and an independent nation in 1979.
While St. Vincent is known for its La Soufriere volcano and eco-tourism sites, most visitors use it as a place to switch planes on their way to the Grenadines, where turquoise waters beckon.
I did just that recently, saving St. Vincent for last, after my visit “down the islands.”
From the airport in St. Vincent, I caught an SVG Air island-hopper flight to Union Island, where I hooked up with Captain Yannis tours for my all-too-brief visit to the Tobago Cays.
I could have stayed for days on that catamaran, bobbing in the Atlantic. But after a sumptuous lunch, it was time to push off for Petit St. Vincent, or PSV, the private island-resort listed among the leading hotels of the world. On Union Island, a jumping-off point for several islands in the southern Grenadines, PSV’s 42-foot launch, the Wakiva, was waiting to take me on the 35-minute ride to the island.
Along the way, I passed Palm Island, another private island that is home to the exclusive Palm Island Beach Club. Although many guests at the secluded resort may just want to soak up rays on the beach, others take advantage of offerings such as a nature trail that slices through the mountains and a boat waiting to take guests out to sea.
A few minutes from Palm Island is a small sand spit, or miniature island, known as Petit St. Richardson, named for Haze Richardson, the owner/manager of Petit St. Vincent. The sand spit, no more than 30 feet wide, is great for swimming and boasts a thatched-roof umbrella for shade. PSV guests are often ferried here to spend the day in quiet relaxation, either reading or swimming. But its importance to me is that it signals that PSV is only a few swells away.
As I stepped off the Wakiva, welcomed with a refreshing pina colada, memories of my last visit to PSV flooded back. My wife, Robin, and I had honeymooned at this all-inclusive resort four years earlier, and very little seemed to have changed since.
The island is renowned as a haven for privacy-seekers; most guests take meals in their private cottages, even though there is a private restaurant nearby. Those 22 stone cottages are built with seclusion in mind. Some are located just off private white sandy beaches, while others are tucked along the bluffs.
I got a sense of how much solitude is valued when I trekked to the top of Lookout Hill, the highest point on the island. The view of the ocean below was spectacular, but the view of the cottages was more revealing: Roofs were the only part of the cottages peeking from the surrounding trees. Each of the cottage’s two-room suites is practically hidden by bougainvillea and sea-grape trees.
PSV has become famous for its unique flag system that reinforces the privacy theme. Two flags are pinned to a bamboo pole outside each cottage–one red, the other yellow. If you need room service, just leave the order on the pole and raise the yellow flag. Staffers driving mini-mokes, which resemble golf carts, pass by each cottage every 15 minutes. If you don’t want to be disturbed, raise the red flag. Your privacy will be honored.
Haze told me that he sees some guests just twice–when they arrive and when they depart. For those who don’t want to spend their entire vacation in their cottage, the resort offers hiking trails, snorkeling, fishing, water-skiing and tennis. Haze and his wife, Lynn, host a weekly cocktail party at their home for new guests, plus a beach barbecue every Saturday night.
I headed to the party after a swim in my own–at least for a couple days–piece of the Atlantic. Most guests had already arrived, and a band from nearby Petit Martinique was playing when the mini-moke pulled up. The food did not disappoint–lobster, chicken and beef on the grill. I walked back to my cottage after the party under a beautiful moonlit sky.
I almost couldn’t pull myself from PSV. But Bequia, another of my favorites in the Grenadines, awaited. Bequia is the second-largest island in the chain, located just 9 miles south of the larger St. Vincent. The island was a lucrative whaling station in the mid-1800s, attracting sailors from throughout the world, particularly Scotland and France.
Whaling has since decreased, but the craft of boat building–both large and miniature sizes–continues to flourish. Bob Dylan’s boat, the Water Pearl, was built on Bequia.
I last visited Bequia seven years ago to attend the island’s Easter Regatta, which is gaining a reputation as one of the most exciting regattas in the Caribbean. My only regret on that visit was turning down an invitation to join one of the crews in the race. Maybe I feared that I would meet the same fate as the country’s prime minister, James “Son” Mitchell, whose dinghy overturned during the race. While we chuckled from shore, Mitchell, like any good sailor, just hopped back aboard and finished the race.
After the regatta, I had accepted Mitchell’s invitation to attend the official opening of the James F. Mitchell Airport. Some of the island’s 6,000 residents had opposed the airport, fearing that the small planes would cause noise pollution. Some sentimentalists preferred to see the island’s seclusion retained–previously, the only way to get to Bequia was by private yachts or on one of two ferries from St. Vincent. I can’t say that I disagreed with them.
But seven years later, I couldn’t wait to fly into Bequia. The airport, built on land reclaimed from the sea, was clean, and going through customs was a breeze. The prime minister and airport employees told me that the facility has been good for the local economy.
Outside, I hopped aboard the back of a pickup-turned-taxi for the 20-minute ride to my hotel on Admiralty Bay. It dawned on me along the way why it’s hard to forget this island: Every vista is incredible. The postcard view of the deep blue Caribbean Sea as the pickup climbed one steep hill after another was intoxicating. More than a dozen yachts and a cruise ship were anchored off Admiralty Bay, the short strip where most activity on the island is centered.
One of the two ferries that ply between St. Vincent and Bequia slowly saddled up to the dock at the edge of the bay. I hopped off the pickup at the Frangipani Hotel, located in the center of Admiralty Bay in Port Elizabeth, Bequia’s commercial center.
The “Frangi” is located along the strip. Stores, restaurants and dive shops are a short walk away. And during regatta week, the Frangi and nearby Plantation House Hotel are ground zero for most of the activities. Everyone was buzzing when I checked in about a youth soccer tournament at the nearby stadium, where each village was competing for trophies and bragging rights. On my way to the game, I stopped by St. Mary’s Anglican Church, one of the oldest structures on the island.
St. Mary’s was built from local limestone and imported brick. It was rebuilt in 1829 after the earlier building was destroyed by a hurricane in 1798. After leaving St. Mary’s, I passed vendors selling cold drinks, ice cream, sugar cakes and other local delicacies near the stadium. The stands were packed, but fans were milling about outside the gates and on the side of the field.
The game turned into a social event after the prizes were handed out; dancing started as calypso music blared from large stereos. The festivities were well under way when I left.
On my last trip to Bequia, I had toured the Old Fort Country Inn, a rustic hotel at the top of the island with a great view of the bay. It was at the top of my sites to visit on this trip, as much for the view as for the rum punch the hotel bar serves to visitors and guests–it’s among the best I’ve tasted in the region.
I wasn’t ready to leave Bequia, but some friends had told me about the Arawak Indian petroglyphs on St. Vincent, and I couldn’t wait to see them.
My grandmother had lived in Mesopotamia, the island’s breadbasket. She grew fruits and vegetables, from avocados to nutmegs, and sold them every Saturday at the Kingstown market.
Sometimes, when I was well behaved, she would let me tag along. As she sold the fruits and vegetables, I played with other vendors’ children or sneaked out for a peek at the large ships in the harbor nearby. It was an unforgettable time and I wanted to recapture some of that magic on this trip.
I visited the market with my friend Ann Joshua, owner of Cobblestone Inn in downtown Kingstown. We arrived about 6:30 a.m. It didn’t take long for Ann’s friends to chide her for arriving late; she usually begins her weekly shopping at 5:30 a.m.
The market has moved out of the building that supplied me with those great memories as a youth. Vendors now set up shop on the street, hawking plantains, dasheen (a round starchy root vegetable) and bhaji (pronounced bage-g), a green leafy vegetable. Every few minutes, we had to squeeze onto the side of the street to escape a passing car or truck. Ann said a modern, larger market is being built across from the old one.
The market had a wonderful assortment of meats, fish and tropical fruits and vegetables. From the vegetable stalls, we strolled across the street to the fish section, appropriately situated on the edge of the wharf.
One of my favorite dishes is made from tiny macock fish–about 6 inches in length–called tri tri (pronounced tree-tree). The fish is caught at the mouth of many rivers on the island. Tri tri is best eaten when well-seasoned and fried. Ann bought several pounds for a party she was planning.
A few days later, I stopped by the elementary school in Kingstown where my aunt teaches for a quick visit en route to the petroglyphs. But I should have known better: Aunt Helena is not into speed. She wanted far more than the 10 minutes I had to spare. “Let’s go!” she said, after I told her that I was headed to the quaint fishing village of Layou to see the stone carvings. She wanted to go, too; I had no choice.
A guide drove us northwest, up through the mountains past children playing along the side of the street and women selling sweets and drinks from makeshift stalls.
We arrived in Layou about an hour after we left Kingstown. The carvings were located on private property at the edge of a stream. We paid the owners a small admission fee and walked the quarter-mile along a dirt track to the 20-foot rock on which the carvings were etched.
My plain-talking aunt stopped a few feet short of the large gray boulder, bewildered. “We drove all this way for this?” she asked.
I smiled. I was intrigued as I carefully traced the outline of the carvings with my fingers. It was unimaginable that someone had stood where I was 1,300 years ago.
We returned to Kingstown late, just in time to attend Ann’s party. The tri tri was delicious, even better than I remembered from my childhood. I watched the rolling Caribbean from Ann’s front porch as a singing troupe serenaded guests with a dozen songs. It was another one of those paradise moments.
IF YOU GO
GETTING THERE
You can fly directly to Kingstown, the capital, from Puerto Rico, Barbados, Grenada, Martinique, St. Lucia or Trinidad. Airlines serving the market include American Eagle, BWIA and LIAT.
Several cruise ships serve Kingstown Harbour in St. Vincent, and some, depending on size, also serve the Grenadines. If you’re traveling by yacht, there are ports of entry in St. Vincent, Bequia, Mustique, Union Island and Canouan.
GETTING AROUND
Rental cars are generally available, but you can often get where you’re going by walking. A word of caution: The islands are very mountainous, so pack comfortable shoes. I prefer to walk around Kingstown, where traffic jams have become more of a problem over the years. Remember, if you rent a car, you must purchase a local license at the airport or police station.
On some islands in the Grenadines, such as Petit St. Vincent, your choices are few–either walk or request a ride on one of the mini-mokes used by hotel staff. Public ferries transport passengers between the islands, as do several small airlines, including St. Vincent Grenadines Air and Mustique Airways.
STAYING THERE
The islands are home to a number of hotels that fit any traveler’s budget and taste. Prices change with the seasons, so check with the hotel or tourist office before heading out. A few of my favorites include Cobblestone Inn in St. Vincent (784-456-1937); Mariner’s Hotel in St. Vincent (784-457-5261); Camelot Hotel in St. Vincent (784-456-2100); Young Island Resort, a small island resort off St. Vincent (800-223-11-08); Petit St. Vincent Resort (800-654-9326); Palm Island Beach Club (800-345-0271); The Frangipani in Bequia (784-458-3255); Old Fort Country Inn in Bequia (784-458-3440); and Carenage Bay Beach & Golf Club in Canouan (800-223-6800).
TOURING
Taking tours around the islands can be inexpensive and fun. Captain Yannis’ tour to Tobago Cays was a blast (784-458-8513). Other tour operators include Sam Taxi Tours (784-456-4338), Sea Breeze Nature Tours (784-458-4949), Calypso Tours (784- 456-1746) and HazECO tours (784-457-8634). For information about scuba diving in the area, call 800-729-1726; www.scubasvg.com.
INFORMATION
St. Vincent and the Grenadines Department of Tourism, 800-729-1726.
— J.Y.
