The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - Travel
Island-hopping the affordable way
James Litston reveals how to visit seven Caribbean isles without resorting to costly flights or private yachts
Jetlagged, early morning starts are the downside of Caribbean holidays, but being the first down to breakfast has its advantages. From the restaurant’s beachfront terrace here at the Park Hyatt St Kitts, I’m looking across the Narrows strait towards sister island Nevis, whose mountain peak is hidden behind clouds.
It was such a scene that reminded Christopher Columbus of the nieves (snow) atop the Spanish sierras, prompting him to hand the island its name. Soon the sun will burn away these morning clouds and other guests will arrive to plunder the buffet, but for now, bar the occasional pelican,
I’ve got this peaceful, palm-fringed paradise to myself.
On the lonely but lovely Southeast Peninsula, the hotel is designed for do-nothing escapes, but to glue myself to the poolside would represent a missed opportunity given the recent advent of ferry links with St Martin and the lesser-known Dutch Caribbean isles of Saba and Sint Eustatius (also known as Statia). They’ve given me the chance to turn my St Kitts fly and flop into an island-hopping adventure.
It’s certainly a compelling prospect. Caribbean ferry connectivity is surprisingly poor, pushing travellers without their own private yacht onto inter-island flights. But with a round-trip from St Kitts to St Martin costing $190 (about £150, or less than half the price of a oneway flight), Makana Ferry’s new links offer an affordable way to see several islands, including a couple that are largely overlooked by tourists.
Adding Nevis to the mix is even simpler. From the Park Hyatt, it’s a two-minute hop to the water taxi terminus, from where it’s a six-minute dash across The Narrows. My next base, the Mount Nevis Hotel, is a lovely, family-owned resort that sprawls across a sea-facing plot and whose view is a mirror image of the one I enjoyed earlier, only this time I can see the Park Hyatt, with Mount Liamuiga as its backdrop.
Nevis has stacks of fly-and-flop appeal, but I’ve come seeking something more challenging. A pre-breakfast pickup the next day allows me to beat the heat for a guided hike up jungle-clad Nevis Peak, which turns out to be more of a scramble, only made possible thanks to a series of ropes.
The tough going calls for frequent pauses, giving us time to appreciate how the clouds envelop the peak as we climb, making the forest feel ever more ethereal. By the time we get back down, my legs are quivering with fatigue, but the mountain has a final treat in store down at its base, where natural hot springs soak away any aches.
When it’s time to move on, I take the regular ferry back to St Kitts and connect with Makana’s catamarans. Of their trio of destinations, one, St Martin, is a popular cruise port, but the other two have far lower profiles. It would be wonderful to spend a few weeks exploring them slowly, and one can even catch public ferries from St Martin to Anguilla or St Barths, adding a sixth and seventh island to the mix. Faced with limited time, however, I’ve chosen to spend a weekend in Sint Eustatius then fly back to London from St Martin, via St Kitts.
Check-in is long-winded but, once complete, we set off at speed, throwing up waves of spray. We power through a cobalt sea along St Kitts’ west coast and across to Sint Eustatius, a journey of just over an hour. Upon arrival, the island’s unhurried, rough-and-ready ambiance is immediately evident. I check into the Old Gin House, 100 yards down the waterfront. “Statia is like the Caribbean of 40 or 50 years ago,” says the receptionist as she shows me my room. “We have no shopping malls or giant hotels, and only the boutique cruise lines call in, so it’s very relaxed and authentic – the sort of place where we all know each other and everything takes its own time.”
Mass tourism may have passed it by, but Sint Eustatius isn’t short of appeal. It’s hard to imagine today, but 250 years ago the island’s port, Oranjestad, was among the world’s busiest, thanks to its geographic location in the middle of British, French and Spanish territories, large harbourage, and status as a free port with no customs duties. Edmund Burke called it “an emporium for all the world”, and hundreds of tall ships would have been anchored offshore at any given time. That was until a series of invasions from the 1780s saw it fall into decline.
Compounded by hurricanes and earthquakes, all that remains of this commercial Golden Age are wavewashed ruins littering the shoreline, plus rusty anchors and coral-encrusted cannons on the seabed. It certainly makes for fantastic snorkelling, as do the turtles and tropical fish that thrive here in the island’s marine park.
The other big draw is its dormant volcano, The Quill. I spend my final morning here hiking to its forest-filled crater. It’s less challenging than Nevis Peak and, without the ever-present clouds, offers phenomenal views across to St Barths and St Martin.
Back on the ferry for my final crossing, I find the leg to St Martin less enjoyable as, with this being open sea, there’s considerable swell. By the time we arrive two hours later, I’m ready to lay out in the sunshine; so it’s just as well that Secrets St Martin is so relaxing. Located on Anse Marcel, up on the French side of the island, it’s an all-inclusive resort with first-rate food, a decent spa and a sandy beach.
Settling onto a lounger, I sit back and admire the view across the bay to Anguilla. Had I more time to spare, it might be the next stop on my island-hopping adventure, but for now I’m completely content to surrender to fly-and-flop mode.