We were excited to arrive in St. Kitts, not just because we were returning after 17 years, but also because we were meeting friends there who we had not seen for about 3 years. We met Carol when she we were all living in military quarters in Lincolnshire. Unlike us, she knew the area well, with her parents living not too far away thus being able to avail us of much local information – soon becoming the oracle on our ‘patch’ when it came to Lincolnshire and East Yorkshire life. With children much the same age our friendship and affinity deepened to an extent that, unlike many military kinships, we remained in touch throughout the trials and tribulations of the ensuing years. Indeed, Carol’s daughter Izzy is my God-daughter. Now 22 we were looking forward to meeting and getting to know Izzy the adult. Both Carol and Izzy were leaving behind their hectic lives to snatch some time with us in the Caribbean. We were determined to give them a good holiday but with scant recent knowledge of this pair of islands we just hoped Kitts and Nevis would deliver for us.
St. Kitts is of course officially called St Christopher island – named after the patron saint of that Columbus fellow who found it. Swiftly, British and French colonists arrived, cruelly doing away with the indigenous Arawaks and Caribs. In a rare show of unity in 1629, the French and British then ousted the Spanish. Kitts and Nevis, it had been noted by then, was a prize worth fighting for: with rich fertile soil on the volcanic slopes where anything seemed to thrive. Thus, tobacco, sugar and cotton plantations soon prospered. After many skirmishes and uncertainty, The Treaty of Utrecht in 1713 ceded Nevis and Kitts, by then poetically called ‘the Gibraltar of the West Indies’, to the British, but that of course did not stop another French attack in 1782 when they held the islands for a whole year before being seen off for good. Although becoming independent states of the Commonwealth in 1983, Kitts and Nevis are now very British in character and culture. Despite the huge dark blot of the pivotal part the island played in the slave trade, the inhabitants remain proud of their heritage.
We arrived a day earlier than planned in the capital of St. Kitts – Basseterre. After a long down-wind, big-swelled sail from Antigua we were pleased to get into the shelter behind the island and radio-ed Port Zante marina more in hope than expectation that they would be able to accommodate us a day earlier than we had booked. We were disconcerted when they apologised that they were full and could not take us until the morning as planned. Rather crestfallen we dropped the anchor instead in a bay called White House Bay about an hour south from Basseterre. White House Bay, along with its neighbour Ballast Bay are now home to a new, very plush development. Hidden behind them is a vast lagoon which is taking shape as a marina….not just a marina one should stress but a megayacht marina. Resolute is 41 feet long; this marina, grandly called St Christophe Harbour, accommodates yachts over 100 feet long. With only the bare bones of the development in place we watched, that evening in White House Bay, the enormous gleaming super yachts amassing both outside and in the new harbour. Their chic, bronzed clientele could be seen at a new bar ashore sipping their cocktails whilst their chauffeurs in launches almost as big as Resolute, circled our anchorage in readiment for the call to collect for dinner aboard. We, mere mortals, sipped our G&T and supped our hasty stir fry.
The next morning we were welcomed into the much more down-to-earth Port Zante – a small square marina housing the fishing fleet and the likes of us passing yachties. Going gingerly into our assigned space bow first we had to lasso the two posts to hold off the stern either side. Harbour Master Charlie and his daughter were giving us guidance from the pontoon but could not assist in the lassoing – a skill Gilly-mate, not for the first time, felt she had somehow missed out acquiring as a child. Skipper advises how it should be accomplished – but seems at a loss as to why this seems a difficulty….surely everyone has lassoed stuff….another Men are from Mars moment! Somehow, without too much shouting, it all happens and we are secured in our little slip. No time to tarry, no sooner had the lines been secured we had to quickly give Resolute a wash and brush-up before haring off to the airport to meet them off their flight.
Carol and Izzy have arrived aboard
With our party complete it was time to explore Kitts and Nevis. As Carol and Izzy had limited sailing experience we decided against venturing any further than between the two islands. Consequently, the next day, having re-supplied at the bustling local supermarket, we left the marina (un-lasoing is so much easier!) and set sail for a peaceful anchorage, Ballast Bay, which, being so close to the new Christophe Harbour super-yacht central had Izzy grabbing the binoculars for a better look at the supposed celebs on board. Operation Tan officially commenced: Carol and Izzy had only 10 short days (the sun is only up for 12 hours a day) to acquire an impressive tan before heading back to the Yorkshire gloom. The race was on! Colin and I continued our usual running for the cover of any available shade trick, whilst Carol and Izzy basked and exposed every decent inch to the sun shine. Resolute (and her Skipper!) had never seen the likes of this before…..scantily clad females draping themselves over any available sun spot on the decks at any given moment. Both Carol and Izzy loved swimming off the back of the boat too when they needed to cool off with Izzy immediately taking to snorkelling around the little reefs and rocky outcrops nearby. Their holiday had properly begun.
Nevis kept beckoning to us. It’s silhouette looking for all the world like the quintessential National Geographic volcano picture across the bluey- green seas. Unable to resist, the next day we set sail for Charlestown, the capital of Nevis, finding that they had helpfully put plenty of mooring buoys off the beach for us yachting visitors to use. By now Carol and Izzy had found their sea legs after feeling a tad discombobulated initially. This was a blessing as the mooring buoys off Charlestown proved to be quite rolly as well as being quite a long dinghy ride to the town quay. Embracing the whole boating ethos full on, they were soon clambering in the dinghy ready to explore Charlestown. The town is not only the capital of Nevis…it is actually the only town. It is the classic, pretty West-Indian waterfront town with many old stone buildings still in use as well as the authentic Caribbean ‘gin gerbread’ wooden ones too. It could not have been a better introduction to our guests to genuine Caribbean living. As Nevis itself is quietly understated so is its capital. Over the next few days, we availed ourselves of the supermarkets and had long walks to find its hidden treasures: the Cotton Ginnery ‘mall’ – more like a collection of quaint little shops and an art gallery on the water’s edge; and the hot springs – which had been a draw to those seeking fashionable spa cures. Even though the volcano is now defunct, the water still bubbles and trickles warmly along.
Following the Nevis Trail – with the ubiquitous monkeys.
Carol in the Golden Rock plantation gardens.
The hot springs, Nevis.
Charlestown architecture.
Timing is everything! Colin had just finished reading a very detailed biography of Lord Nelson when we arrived in Kitts and Nevis. In Nevis Nelson is everywhere as it was here that he met and married Fanny Nisbet in the Fig Tree Church in 1787. A visit to the Nelson museum, therefore, was a must. Complete plates from their matrimonial dinner service were exhibited there amongst a plethora of other treasures from the life and times of Fanny and her illustrious husband’s naval endeavours too of course. With nothing much having changed in Charlestown it was easy to imagine how it must have been for them then. After our wanderings in the heat of the bustling town, the beach, right in front of the moorings was a Godsend – not only for swimming and sunbathing but also for the beach-bars and restaurants on offer. As we met up with our South African friends on their catamaran again whilst in the bay there were ample excuses to sample the Sunshine beach bar and their famous Bee Sting cocktails on several nights.
We had been told by a fellow Ocean Cruising Club member that no visit to Nevis would be complete without taking a taxi to an old plantation called Golden Rock. Nicholas, the erstwhile taxi driver who had so far failed to convince us that we needed his services, was glad to take us up there – winding out of Charlestown, into the forests where glimpses of stunning blue sea and tantalisingly, the island of Montserrat appearing through the branches. Occasionally, we could glimpse the disappearing tails of the endemic green back monkeys which, Nicholas explained, though very cute to look at are a real nuisance on the island stealing everything they can lay their little hands on. We continued on up into Gingerland. This was the most prized land on the island in the plantation times – fertile lands in an elevated, cool environment with wonderful views. On both Kitts and Nevis the old plantations have often been turned into Inns and restaurants. Golden Rock has warmed to that theme but taken it one step further with the addition of exquisite botanical gardens, dotted with little guest cottages. Day trippers like us are welcome to walk the grounds, enjoy the spectacular views, eat in the restaurant and swim in the pool. Amazing. We had a fantastic day there doing all of the above. It was a very special place.
The Golden Rock Restaurant.
Once the swell rolled in to our Charlestown anchorage and we at last felt we had done justice to Charlestown we decided to press on up the coast to a small resort which had a more sheltered anchorage. Oualie was the name given to Nevis by the Amerindians who first settled there and the name has survived as that of the resort we arrived at. To our delight, there was a mooring buoy seemingly sitting waiting for us. Once ashore we set off walking along the coast road to find a restaurant recommended in our trusty guide. A pick-up truck stopped when we were a little way along – the driver asking if we needed any help. We asked about the eatery we were heading for and he told us it was now shut but offered to take us further along where there was more choice. We hopped in and chatted to the chap who turned out to be the owner of the Oualie Resort where we had just left the boat. Oh yes, he said we could use the mooring buoy in his bay for as long as we liked – oh, and all the facilities his resort had to offer us too! He drove us along the main coast road explaining about all the recent developments as well as the ancient natural water spring made famous when Nelson’s fleet used it as a watering hole – nosing their enormous vessels into the mangroves in order to get water from the spring. He (John) was a fount of knowledge about Nevis – begging the inevitable question…… how long have you lived here John? Well, he answered, my family left England just after the English civil war. Being supporters of Charles I they thought they ought to make themselves scarce once he was executed and found themselves in Nevis in about 1650! At John’s kind invitation we did indeed enjoy all that the Oualie resort had to offer us over the next few days. What a fortunate encounter it had been.
With much regret, with time running short, we decided we must leave Nevis and turn our attention to St. Kitts. By now the weather was turning the stretch of water between the islands (The Narrows) very choppy and swelly making the anchorages directly across from Oualie untenable. We were left with little option then but to return to White House Bay near the new Super yacht haven of Christophe Harbour. Skipper and Mate were a little disappointed to end up there again but our guests were thrilled to have another opportunity to watch the rich and famous at play. We even ventured ashore to the Salt Plage Beach Bar where we were greeted by a blond beauty in tight top and short shorts who advised us with a smile that the restaurant was hosting a private function that evening but that we were welcome to have a drink at the bar. We had never seen the likes of this beach bar – dockside day beds, hammocks and more variations of champagne on ice than I have ever seen! We were entranced but felt rather out of our comfort zone. After one exquisitely shaken, stirred and very priced cocktail at the stylish bar, despite Izzy’s pleas to stay longer to see who was coming to the private function and from which mega-yacht, we got in our grubby little dinghy and headed back to our very un-super yacht for a mediocre unglamorous supper!
View from Salt Plage Bar
Time to head back to Basseterre which still required, along with the rest of Kitts, some exploration. Having honed our lassoing skills once more to tie up in Port Zante (it turned out Gilly was not the only one to have missed out on that skill!) we went in search of a taxi tour of the island’s highlights. Fortunately we had picked a rare day when there were no cruise ships tied up in the adjacent port. Much of Port Zante ashore is a huge Mall where the cruise shippers peruse endless jewellery outlets and souvenir shops – but this particular day it was like a ghost town and we consequently found a taxi driver with the help of a jewellery shop keeper who was pleased to have some trade on an otherwise quiet day. The shop owner invited us back to see his wares once we had done the tour. As he had been so helpful we innocently felt obliged to do just that. But first we were taken to the fabulous Brimstone Fort. As its name suggests, the massive fortress stood on a 800 foot headland downwind of the St Kitts volcano when it was still belching sulphurously. This massive fortress built and extended from a lookout position and a couple of cannon in 1690 to an entire citadel with barracks accommodation, bakery and hospital by 1790. A full restoration programme of is under way and our taxi was able to take us right up the hill to the magnificent site with breath-taking views saving us an arduous and very hot climb. After a very informative tour and endless photos of the glorious view, we headed back to our taxi to be taken to the Romney Manor plantation – another example of how the former plantation sites in Kitts and Nevis have been put to good use. This one has spectacular gardens too but its raison d’etre is the traditional manufacture of Batik dyed fabrics with beautifully vivid designs – a remnant of the cotton growing on the plantation Of course we could not leave the gift shop without some examples of the stunning workmanship. (Actually ,in this case, workwomanship).
Brimstone Fort, Kitts.
View from Brimstone Fort.
As I said earlier, at the end of our tour we felt obliged to be taken back to the jewellers who had found us our taxi tour guide. What we were not prepared for was the hard sell! Oh my goodness….we were set upon by two of the most charming sales ladies you have ever met, plying us with rum punches and no obligation please-have-a-looks. Unguarded we were such easy targets. In no time at all us three females found ourselves the proud owners of stunning green stone ammolite rings – all being adjusted to measure. What is a girl to do in such circumstances? Skipper was less than impressed, although it must be said that come Gilly’s birthday in May he will be pleased even he succumbed to the sugar sweet sales pitch.
Tanned and laden with wares, it was time for Carol and Izzy to leave us and time to for Skipper and Mate to turn our thoughts very reluctantly to more pressing matters….that of our teeth. Since leaving Norway in May 2013 we had not had need to visit a dentist but now Gilly had chipped a front tooth and more urgently Skipper had cracked a molar, lost the filling and it was beginning to ouch. Whilst Carol and Izzy did a final tour of Basseterre itself Colin found a wonderful dentist who took one look and prescribed him a course of antibiotics which would herald the way to an extraction. Not a nice prospect. Thus, after our sad goodbyes to our friends, we occupied our time in Basseterre exploring the town and finding out more about its chequered history as the epicentre of the slave trade in the Central Caribbean. The shady elegance of the Independence Square park with its central fountain, bamboo shaded stone benches hides its sinister history of slave trading. The stone buildings surrounding the square housed the squalid cellars in which the slaves awaited their fate at auction. The central roundabout in the town with its central statue is called Piccadilly Circus mimicking the original in London as testament to Kitts’ proud British inheritance. As in Charlestown much of the original stone Georgian architecture is still intact alongside the more modest gingerbread wooden homes and businesses.
Former slave ‘keeps’ opposite Independence Square, Basseterre, Kitts.
Basseterre.
Piccadilly Circus, Basseterre, St. Kitts.
independence Square, Basseterre, Kitts.
After having the dreaded tooth forcibly removed (performed almost painlessly by a charming but highly professional dentist of Indian extraction – excuse the pun!)), we sailed across The Narrows once more to take our leave of Charlestown, Nevis. There was one place we had omitted from our tour with Carol and Izzy – that of the house of Alexander Hamilton….the namesake of my cousin Ray’s boat, hailing from Nevis, mentioned in our last blog entry. Any patriotic American would probably not hesitate to tell you that this man was one of America’s Founding Fathers – a signatory to the US constitution, whose likeness adorns the $10 bill. He had been born in Nevis in 1757 and though he stayed there a very short time, much is made of his humble roots there. His abode – Alexander Hamilton House is now home to both the Museum of Nevis History and the Nevis Assembly, the five member Nevisian Parliament that sits four or five times a year.
Alexander Hamilton House, Charlestown, Nevis.
All so interesting and beguiling but it is now time to sail on and bid a fond farewell to Kitts and Nevis.
resolute-en-voyage 