St. Vincent and the Grenadines
Seven Versions of Paradise
By Margaret Swaine
Seven gorgeous Caribbean islands in seven days. Normally that’s an experience only cruise ship passengers can enjoy. Yet in St. Vincent and the Grenadines, it was so easy for me to do by local boats and planes that pampering and adventure rolled together into days of seamless pleasure. All of the seven islands and one set of cays that I visited were unique, different from the others though as connected as sand and sea. Each had its own distinctive version of paradise.
I had heard little of this string of over 30 islands of the Lesser Antilles in the south Caribbean before I travelled there. In the past, I had vacationed on St. Lucia, Barbados and Grenada that bracket the nation on the north, east and south respectively. However, St. Vincent and the Grenadines or SVG, to use their local acronym, were undiscovered jewels of the Caribbean barely on my radar. I had read only of Mustique, their pearl of an island that attracts British Royals and the uber famous in music and film. The other islands on the string that forms the last hundred miles of the Windwards were a mystery.
These were the last stronghold of the Carib Nation, thus the last to be settled by Europeans and the last assimilated into the plantation system. Today they are the last stretch of Caribbean islands to embrace tourism. St. Vincent, the largest island and the seat of government, had bananas, arrowroot and other crops to fuel the economy. However, in recent years, the agriculture business has declined and tourism has moved to the forefront. Foreign owned corporations have built upscale luxury resorts on some of the islands while family run inns have been expanded on others. There is still no international airport, though the current government has hopes to build one on St. Vincent.
The Grenadines lie on a volcanic ridge yet have few mountains tall enough to trap cloud cover and produce rainfall. Hence, they are generally dry with drought resistant vegetation. St. Vincent on the other hand is a mountainous 18 miles long by 11 miles wide with a still active volcano, La Soufrière. Lush and green, it gets regular doses of rain and has a wet season from May through October. Exotic plants thrive here and local markets are teaming with breadfruit, cassava, christophine, paw paw, sorrel, yams, nutmeg, bananas, soursop and dasheen.
St. Vincent
I arrived in St. Vincent, the first island on my trip on the local SVG Air flying out of Barbados to Kingstown, the capital. The town sits in the southwest on a natural deepwater harbour. Houses dot the hillsides in a ragged semi-circle around its bay. My hotel for the first two nights, The Villa Lodge, was just 15 minutes drive past downtown on a hill about a five-minute walk to the sea at Indian Bay. Kingstown is a bustling, active city however so the rattle of traffic was fairly constant outside my window which faced the road.
The Villa was nonetheless a convenience spot for island trekking. That night Clint and Millie Hazell of Hazeco Tours picked me up for dinner at Roy’s Inn, a former French governor’s house build in the 1700’s. These two dynamos were to be my guides to St. Vincent for the next two days. Over Roy’s Inn punch, made with local Sunset strong rum, we chatted about the island’s highlights. The Hazells are both Vincentians who spent over 25 years in Canada before returning to their native land. They had so many visitors from North America in their first years back that they decided to set up a tour company.
“We’ll arrange anything you want,” Clint offered. One of his cherished client gigs was taking a British fellow around retracing all the battles that the regiment he belonged to had fought in the Second Carib War (or Brigands’ War), in the 1790s. This Brit had had his own battles getting to St. Vincent as he was mugged of his wallet in St. Lucia. The Hazells helped him get a new passport and lent him money until he was able to arrange new credit cards. St. Vincent is that kind of island where human compassion still reigns over thirst for tourist dollars. It’s also the kind of place where an LA costume designer working on the film Pirates of the Caribbean could spot the Hazell’s son out jogging in the Prospect area, get her taxi driver to track him down and arrange a date. The couple are now married and living in California.
Others in the merry band of pirates – Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom and Keira Knightley to name a few – returned to SVG and other Caribbean islands to shoot Pirates’ sequels. Meanwhile the Disney set at Wallilabou Bay, which stood in for Port Royal, has been left for tourists to view. One can visit it by powerboat excursion with Fantasea Tours along the western coast of St. Vincent and also take in Petit Byahaut, which was made into the treasure cave in the movie.
My choice though for the next morning was to visit Kingstown’s market. It was a Saturday and the height of shopping action for the over 109,000 island residents. The main streets were clogged with cars, dollar buses, porters pushing wooded wheelbarrows, many Vincentians and vendors of all sorts, their goods spilled onto the sidewalks. Produce was fresh, cheap and geared for locals. Yet it was sold to me with a smile along with an explanation on how to cook or eat it. I sampled a plum rose, juicy with a slight rose petal flavour, fragrant local tangerines and a tangy delicious fruit called a golden apple.
Then Clint drove me to view two historic churches. His family traces back to the 1800’s on the island and at St. George’s Anglican an ancestor is featured on a wall memorial. St. Mary’s Catholic across the street is a riot of architecture with Gothic elements, Romanesque arches and a fantasyland look. From here we went to the Botanical Gardens, the oldest in the Americas with 20 acres of splendid trees, bushes and blooms. Captain Bligh’s breadfruit tree from an original cutting in 1793 is a feature as is the small aviary, which houses several endangered blue-brown St. Vincent parrots, said to be one of the world’s rarest birds.
It was time for lunch at Basil’s in the Cobblestone Inn, a former sugar warehouse in the thick of the action on Kingstown’s waterfront. The building dates to 1814 and extensive restoration has exposed the Georgian architecture, cobblestone walkways and arches. Abby, a bartender there, made me a drink from fresh local fruits while I waited for Glen Beache, the new Minister of Tourism, Youth and Sports to join me. When he didn’t show, she called his cell phone to help me rearrange our meeting. Everyone knows everyone in SVG.
St. Vincent is an island with wondrous sites to explore. One of the most magical is Montreal Gardens about a 45-minute drive through the fertile Mesopotamia Valley to an elevated 1,500-foot high bowl that spills out from a backdrop of mountains. The gardens grow the showy tropical plant anthurium commercially and rows of these flourish beneath tree ferns. It’s the artful blend of sunny, formal and rainforest gardens however that take the breath away. Throughout over seven acres, Welsh landscape architect Timothy Vaughan has created a masterpiece of flowing abundance of blooms, foliage and fruits intertwined with pathways and walls of volcanic stone. “As I’m a landscape architect, I try to create senses for people,” Timothy told me with classic understatement.
The ride back was wild along narrow roads with potholes that could swallow a tire, passing dollar buses with names such as “Slim Shady” and likely slipping by some marijuana fields of the Rasta community who grow organic produce of all sorts. We were heading for the wind swept Atlantic side with its monster waves, salt-water spray and future airport site.
The next day I visited bright, colourful inns including the particularly notable Beachcomber. Nearby was the funky, colourful in another way, local hangout called Lime N’ Pub. Even more unusual than menu items such as pigeon and rabbit, was the small room off to one side. It contained panties, bras, men’s briefs and other items tacked on the walls along with signatures and stories of how they got there. Xcape situated next door is notable for its steel band that starts around midnight on Fridays and ends when the neighbours’ complaints escalate enough. Maybe.
Nearby are Earl and Kim Halbich’s Fantasea boats available for cruises. Earl’s fanciest big white catamaran he told me is on the 5/5/5 plan. He designed it in 1995, started building in 2000, finished in 2005 and will have it paid off in 2010. Maybe. Now on a Sunday it was time for some liming, Vincy talk for just hanging out and partying. Earl prepped the big boat and a varied group of friends, family and tourists all waded aboard for a coastline cruise to a white sand beach.
My last night on St. Vincent, I spent in the historic Grand View Beach Hotel. That night at their grill hut by the sea, I had my dinner with Minister Beache. (His father Sir Vincent Beache whom I bumped into at the airport had joked to me “there are many Beaches on St. Vincent.”) I learned he’s pro international airport “it will happen baring a hurricane or other natural disaster” and particularly keen on a hospitality school to teach the ways of the world to Vincy’s who still operate on ‘Caribbean’ time. There are also plans for a national stadium, the revival of historic Georgetown and road improvements.
Grand View is located on eight acres of tropical gardens overlooking the Caribbean Sea. Originally a 19th century cotton drying house, the Sardine family lovingly converted it into a hotel in 1962 and have been adding upgrades ever since. While I was there Tony Sardine was working slowly on refurbishing the downstairs rooms. Wind swept, blissfully quiet with beautiful views; it was a gem of a spot. After a dip in the pool the next day, I settled in their open-air breakfast room with its scenic views. I passed on the traditional English breakfast and the Caribbean ‘boul jus’, for the sardines. An appropriate tribute I felt.
Canouan
I left St. Vincent for Canouan on a small SVG Air Twin Otter, flying time a mere 13 minutes. At the teensiest strip of an airport, the Raffles hotel staff greeted me with cool jasmine scented towels and a fancy Suzuki to drive the 15 minutes to the resort. I was welcomed to another world. The landscape was distinctly drier, with cactus and other succulents dotted among the green. The sun was blazing and the sandy shores dazzling white. Canouan is Carib for turtle island, an apt name as I saw many red-footed tortoises along the road. My destination was one of the best, most luxurious resorts in the Caribbean.
Canouan is a mere three-square miles of green hills and secluded beaches sheltered by one of the worlds’ largest coral reefs. This is an intimate isle of just 700 residents. Raffles Resort Canouan on the western side is in a protected bay that forms a natural amphitheatre of 300 acres stretching up the mountainside. The focal point is a 17th century church shipped from England and reconstructed in the 19th century, now the only remnant of a village that was destroyed by a 1921 hurricane. That’s the old. The new is an impressive Jim Fazio designed 18 hole championship golf course, an Amrita Spa with individual treatment villas built on the hillsides (with two literally over the water) and The Trump Club gaming pavilion. Guest rooms have a minimum of 560 square feet, all with private patios or terraces. Luxury knows no boundaries here.
I headed to Godahl’s Beach Bar on my own personal golf cart, provided to me as to all guests, for tooting around the property. So many Caribbean resorts rely on sand, sea and setting, failing to impress with their meals. Not so at this Raffles Resort. My wrap of succulent Caribbean lobster, tangy feta and tomato, served with a frisée, radicchio and endive salad was a perfect lunch. It turned out every meal I had was exquisite with La Varenne Restaurant the pinnacle. The higher up the mountain ones goes in this resort, the more haute the cuisine.
La Varenne is Raffles’ fine dining retreat up the mountainside. Its walls open to the sea breezes and to spectacular views of the island. On my evening there sax player “Jab” Duplessis filled the room with mellow music as he has for eight years now. It felt like a scene out of the Great Gatsby. Chef de Cuisine Eoghain O’Neill of Trinidadian and Irish descent delivered a tasting menu up to the standards of the Michelin Star Paris and London restaurants he has worked in. Tuna trilogy, seared Scottish salmon with a fresh fava bean risotto and a mille feuille of foie gras were part of the meal extravaganza. Each dish was expertly matched with fine French wines.
Next morning I teed up with assistant golf pro Wayne Greer on the links at the Trump International Golf Club. This course was the site of Trump’s Million Dollar Challenge last May. The condition of the greens and fairways were fabulous and the front nine was playing friendly enough. The back nine, high up on Mount Royal, was where the challenge really kicked in. Along with varying elevations and narrow fairways were punishing winds. If I didn’t factor in the wind I could kiss my balls good-bye. Both Wayne and I lost a few. The views however were stunning. When I stood on the tee box on hole 12 the Atlantic Ocean was viewable on my left and the Caribbean Sea on the right.
Also on Canouan Island is the Tamarind Beach Hotel, a low-rise sister to Raffles Canouan at much more affordable prices. Raffles offers Tamarind guests the opportunity to dine at Raffle’s Jambu poolside restaurant, play the Trump golf course and gamble in the Club Privée. Jambu’s is renown for its $300 martinis that have 24 carat gold swizzle sticks shaped into replicas of famous swords spiked through the garnishes. I hopped the hotel shuttle the other way and went for a drink at Tamarind’s Pirate’s Cove. The restaurant is renown among yachters for its pizza and there were plenty of tanned boaters lazing about.
The Tobago Cays
To get to Palm Island, the next overnight, I had the resort charter me a boat. I wanted to tour through the Tobago Cays on the way, about an hour by water. The Cays are four islets guarded by the amazing Horseshoe Reef and one islet, Petit Tabac, just outside of it. The St. Vincent government purchased these tiny islands in the late 1990’s after fifteen years of negotiations with private owners from United States. They designated the area a National Marine Park and pledged to bar commercial activity. You can moor in the Cays but there are no tourist facilities.
The smallest and southernmost cay, Jamesby, has one of the best white sand beaches of the group. Petit Tabac where Johnny Depp was marooned as Sparrow in Pirates of the Caribbean, is the most inaccessible. I could easily see that the waters with their abundant marine life, were gorgeous for snorkelling and scuba. The colour of the sea was vibrant shades of blue against a white sand bottom, the hue changing with the depth. If I had wished to make a day of it, I should have brought a picnic. As it was, I just enjoyed the cruise about these pristine waters. We wove in-between many other boats of all sizes and types. This place is a well-loved sailing destination and much controversy has arisen on how to preserve its pure nature. For the moment at least, it’s busy but unspoilt.
Palm Island
It was an easy 40-minute cruise from there to Palm Island. One charming resort dominates this private island. Typically a couples place, its 37 rooms, most thatch and stone cottages, dot the beach facing the sea. Viewable in the distance is Union Island. Palm boasts 135-acres of sand, two miles of shoreline, four little hills and over 1,850 palm trees. When I was dropped off on the island’s wharf and saw the boat pull away I felt like Robinson Crusoe washed ashore.
Palm wasn’t always the quintessential ‘Swept Away’ island paradise. Originally called Prune Island, its forest were destroyed in the 18th century to clear the area for lime making for the construction business. In the next century, Prune was used for sea salt production. It’s said it was also at one time a leper colony. Eventually all activity was abandoned and the island was left to become an almost impenetrable swamp. American yachtsman John Caldwell however saw its potential and leased the land from the SVG government in 1966 for a dollar a year on a 99-year lease.
Caldwell planted hundreds of coconut palms, re-christened the island Palm and gradually established a small hotel. “Johnny Coconut” as he was nicknamed even built an airstrip, which now serves as the island’s short, shaggy grassed (rather unplayable) nine hole ‘golf course’. American entrepreneur Rob Barrett and English partner James Lane bought the resort in 1998 when Caldwell died and brought it up to modern high-quality standards.
Palm Island is an “all-inclusive” style resort with the vast majority of its guests British. They were a friendly lot. The isolation and intimacy of the island meant most people were happy to introduce themselves and get involved in whatever conversation was going. I made a number of instant connections and got into several animated discussions about politics, life and even philosophy. “There are still pirates in the Caribbean and lots of dreams that have failed,” began one dinner companion.
I took a golf cart around the island by the 14 private homes, the iguana nature trail, the point look out trail, a turtle sanctuary and the interior lagoon. Even with stops to walk around and take photos, the drive took under an hour. But this was no excuse for island fever. The resort offered a good selection of day trips to other Grenadine islands as well as sunset cruises and fishing trips.
Activities on the island centre on swimming, sunbathing, eating, reading and talking. The meals while decent were not a highlight. One draw back of splendid isolation is the island’s dependency on boats to bring in produce that shows up on Caribbean time. In the end the absolute charm of the place to me was the friendliness of both staff and guests. There was a feeling of warmth and camaraderie with each interaction, which reached its zenith during the evening cocktail hour fuelled by all-inclusive drinks.
Union Island
Grackles, sandpipers, doves and bananaquits joined me for breakfast the next day, flitting about looking for crumbs in the open-air Royal Palm restaurant. Then I was off on the regular morning boat to Union, a mere ten-minute ride away. Once again the experience was a unlike all the others from the moment I stepped on land. Union was like an unpolished gem, scruffy even, but vibrant with life. Most of the workers from Palm Island live here and so do their goats, chickens and donkeys which wander about the roads. Population is about 3,500 and one of Union’s most prominent features is Mount Toboi, the highest point in the Grenadines at 1000-feet.
This island has had a checkered past. Slavery, sharecropping, failed ventures and hurricanes made for tumultuous times. Eventually the land was sold to the locals in two and four-acre parcels. Modernization has come slowly. The island’s first car arrived in 1956 and there are still few vehicles on the island. I was picked up at the dock at Clifton Harbour by Freddy Naert, owner of Bigsand, my hotel for the night. As we bounced along in his dusty old clunker, I grew concerned about my room. I needn’t have worried. Bigsand’s 12 rooms were large and clean with great balconies facing the ocean. Some of the movie stars from Pirates slept in these beds. Freddy, a farmer whose family raised horses in Belgium, built the hotel with his brother Johan.
It was on a beautifully secluded sliver of sandy land that jutted into the ocean. While there was air-conditioning, I preferred to leave the windows open to catch the sound of the waves. The sea breeze was constant and strong enough to cool the room. Along with free transport from the airport or seaport, Freddy offered an island tour so I took him up on it. To see most of the 13.7 square mile island took barely more than an hour including dodging the animals and offering lifts to locals.
Aside from pretty vistas, Clifton Harbour held the most appeal. Colourful stalls sold fresh produce in Hugh Mulzac square and restaurants lined the main street. Freddy’s last stop on his tour is always the Castello across from the post office. It was a jumble of open-air commerce with the tiniest bars, cafés and shops all linked together by wandering paths that were overgrown with foliage and flowers. Conchs, mosaics, old colourful fabrics and various bric-a-brac decorated the place. Shop assistant Susie Alexander made us a gingery delicious banana and fruit rum punch, which we sipped in their Pelican bar overlooking the harbour.
Meals at Bigsands, in their one small restaurant overlooking the beach, were a delight. Service was predictably slow but everything was cooked fresh – fish and callaloo soups, marinated conch, Caribbean lobster, salads – all memorably tasty and inexpensive. This was a low key, almost primitive old style Caribbean island but very cool in its own way.
Mustique
There can’t be two islands more different from each other than Union and Mustique. I boated with Fantasea to Mustique and as we drew near Earl pointed out Tommy Hilfiger’s villa, then Mick Jagger’s on the corner and one that Bryan Adams purchased. One of the most exclusive private island’s in the world, the Mustique Company which operates the place, has shareholders and villa owners from 20 countries. Many are famous, some are royalty, most are decidedly rich. About 60 of the villas are available for rent to those with deep enough pockets. The least expensive villa is about $4,000 US a week in low season, the most pricy well over $40,000.
Every year for the last ten years, from late January to early February Basil’s Bar in Mustique holds a blues festival and I happened along at that time. There was no space at the only two hotels on the island: the Cotton House and The Firefly. However I did have lunch at Basil’s by the ocean and enjoyed the laid-back scene there. Then Carlton Child, a Vincy who’s nicknamed “Carib” because of his origins, showed me inside a few villas. Oh to be that rich.
We also took a spin through the Cotton House property, where Jagger’s dog, Star, followed us around. “Star does that all the time,” observed Carib. Then it was off to the Firefly to have a drink at their bar, famous for its famous customers.
The Firefly has both a Champagne Club and a Martini Club. Members get recognized with a special t-shirt once they’ve consumed every version of champagne cocktail or martini on the menu. There are 14 martinis and guests have been known to earn their t-shirt after one long liquid lunch. Owner Liz Clayton told me Pierce Brosnan, who comes to Mustique a lot, wanted to get a club t-shirt but unlike his 007 counterpart, he doesn’t drink martinis. It was up to Brosnan’s son to try for the shirt. As for me, I had a champagne cocktail, one of seven I really must consume to get my Club prize.
Bequia
Back on board Fantasea’s catamaran, we cruised to Bequia, the largest of the Grenadine islands, a compact nine square miles, just nine miles south of St. Vincent. The island’s commerce has come from the sea for a long time. Its age-old traditions of boat-building, fishing and whaling are still evident – there’s even a joint or two that uses whale bones to decorate the bar. According to aboriginal whaling rights, Bequian whalers are allowed to harpoon up to two whales a year. If a whale is caught, the entire island comes out to get their portion of the catch.
Bequia has a superb natural harbour, Admiralty Bay, that attracts modern day recreational sailors of all sorts. When I landed at the wharf at Port Elizabeth an open-backed taxi instantly pulled up to offer a tour. These taxis are widely used and can be found “under the almond tree” in the port. I decided to walk instead along the waterfront boardwalk and check out the bars, pizza parlours, hotels and restaurants strung out along it. Tantalizing aromas of curry and fish fry wafted out of the Salty Dog. Over at Frangipani Hotel the action in their bar peaked my curiosity. I asked for a tour of the property and found out that a former SVG prime minister, Sir James Mitchell was born upstairs in the main building. Further along I walked into the Gingerbread Hotel also on Admiralty Bay. The traditional hand-cut fretwork that gives the hotel its name was remarkable especially around the restaurant.
The island had a laid back, low-key atmosphere but I could tell from the watering holes already busy in mid-afternoon this place can rock. For me however it was back to the boat for a final cruise to my seventh paradise.
Young Island
Young Island Resort is a rock skip or two from St. Vincent. Getting there is a simple three-minute ferry ride across 200 yards of water, from the Villa beach area. It’s such a small (just 35 acres) place it’s possible to rent the entire island and all its 29 double cottages for a wedding celebration. You can see St. Vincent across the water and you can often hear it.
I got lucky and scored a luxury suite with a plunge pool, my own private gazebo and a hammock by the ocean. There was no air conditioning so I opened up the louvered windows to the crashing surf and constant wind. The place felt so far away, yet it was so close to the action.
Dinner outdoors by the water’s edge held a fun surprise for me. The menu was prepared by Jay Scaife, a chef whom I’d know through Taboo Golf Resort in Muskoka, Canada. I’d written about and admired his work at that resort and here he was trading snow and turf for sand and surf. He told me since winter is Taboo’s low season, he came to SVG to fill that employment gap and work alongside the resort’s kitchen staff until April. One of Jay’s signature tasting menus was delivered with aplomb.
My SVG Air flight to Barbados to catch the international flight home served well as a last salute to all the islands I’d visited. We took off from St. Vincent, landed in Canouan, then Union, followed by Bequia and finally Mustique, flying over Palm Island and Tobago Cays on the way. It was the only time I have had a five-stop flight I’ve enjoyed. What a glorious good-by and one I hoped was not forever. The islands and its people had snuck into my soul and charmed it.
If You Go
Getting Around:
Hazeco Tours: (Clint and Millie Hazell) www.hazecotours.com
Fantasea Tours: (Earl and Kim Halbich) www.fantaseatours.com
SVG Air: www.svgair.com
Hotels:
St. Vincent
Villa Lodge: www.villalodge.com
The Cobblestone Inn: www.thecobblestoneinn.com
Grand View Beach Hotel: www.grandviewhotel.com
Canouan
Raffles Resort: https://canouan-estate.lesserantilleshotels.com/en/
Tamarind Beach Hotel and Yacht Club: www.tamarindbeachhotel.com
Palm
Palm Island Resort: www.eliteislandresorts.com
Union
Bigsand Hotel: www.bigsandhotel.com
Mustique
The Mustique Company (villa rentals): www.mustique-island.com
The Firefly Mustique: www.kiwicollection.com
The Cotton House: www.cottonhouse.net
Bequia
The Frangipani: www.frangipanibequia.com
Gingerbread Hotel: www.gingerbreadhotel.com
Young Island
Young Island Resort: www.youngisland.com