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Just five square miles in size, Saba is refreshingly distinct from other islands in the West Indies. There are no permanent beaches, only a wandering one of black sand that exists, if at all, for a few winter months at Wells Bay. The island is basically one big mountain with roads and villages clinging to its sides. Mount Scenery is the highest point, 2,885 feet above sea level and usually in the clouds. There are four villages - Hell's Gate, Windwardside, St. John's, and The Bottom (the capital) - that are home to Saba's 1,574 residents. The five-mile-long road that connects the villages has been in existence only since 1943, built by hand over a period of eighteen years. When Dutch engineers declared the steep and mountainous terrain unfit for construction, a local man designed and built the roads with knowledge culled from a correspondence course. It sounds pretty bleak, but the island is surprisingly green and beautiful. The climate is ideal - the elevation of the villages keeps it comfortably cool and breezy in the evening, just right for sleeping. The days are warm but not hot; the temperature of both air and water is around 80 F. all year round. The vegetation is tropical and verdant - this is not a dry island. And the villages have the charm and appeal of small towns in coastal Maine (minus the clapboard). By tradition, most of the tidy houses are white with green trim and red roofs. It's very picturesque. It's also probably one of the cleanest islands in the Caribbean. If it had a beach and a decent harbor, Saba would quickly become the next St. Barts. Thank God it doesn't! There are three reasons to come to Saba. The first is for solitude and quiet: the deadline for your latest novel or screenplay is swiftly approaching and you need a place with few distractions and no one to call. The second is that you hate beaches, are scared of the sun, or just want a pleasant climate without boatloads of tourists and the hassle of Third World politics - it's a vacation away from the Caribbean conventional. The last is by far the best reason to come here: the diving. It is one of the last "virgin" dive locales and has probably some of the finest sites you'll find in the Lesser Antilles (that is, Puerto Rico all the way down to Trinidad). |
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Statia is a place for those who want to explore life well off the beaten track. You won't find nightlife, shopping, or resorts, and the most attractive beaches (on the east coast) are too rough for swimming. But the absence of traffic jams, discos, and strip malls is a nice antidote for anyone overdosed on civilization. The arid island has a nicely sculpted landscape, dominated in the south by The Quill, a graceful extinct volcano that rises to 1,968 feet. Moderate trails lead up the gentle slopes, and a rain forest is found in the deep crater bowl. Though not on a par with Saba's, there is good diving and decent snorkeling. The historical museum is worth an hour, and you can tour most of Fort Oranje and Oranjestad, the capital, in another hour or two. Most people will find enough to explore for two or three days, but beyond that, you'll need to have a real taste for Statia's uniquely quirky and quiet lifestyle. One big plus: this island is fairly inexpensive by Caribbean standards. |
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aba and Statia are like stepsisters. Located just south of St. Maarten/St. Martin, they are two of the Caribbean's smallest and least known inhabited islands. Both are both politically connected to the Netherlands, and they share a similarly concise population count and an eccentric local scene that is minimally impacted by tourism. They can be reached only by small plane or ferry from St. Maarten. A scenic volcano provides a visual anchor for each island, but from the visitor's standpoint, that is where the resemblance ends. These two outposts have vastly different appeal. To us, Saba is like a charming and lush alpine village that somehow got airlifted and plopped into the Caribbean, where it is surrounded by spectacular diving. Statia has its fans, but it's quite the backwater and lacks Saba's charm and appeal (the homely, unpopular stepsister with little hope of a Cinderella turnaround). To some, however, this "unappeal," by keeping the tourists away, provides its own kind of attraction.
ust twelve square miles in size, this odd little outpost was once the most important trading center and slave depot in the West Indies. Merchandise from Europe and raw goods from the Americas made their way to St. Eustatius' port, and the island itself was fiercely traded - twenty-two times - among the Dutch, English, Spanish, and French. As the riches poured in, the island became known as The Golden Rock. But you're excused if the name St. Eustatius (which refers to an obscure second-century martyr) isn't on your radar. Affectionately called Statia today, the island is one of the Caribbean's least known tourism frontiers - a dry plain weighted on either end by extinct volcanoes. There is a tiny town, Oranjestad, and the ruins of a fort and other historical sites are found in Lower Bay, on the water. With just 2,100 residents, the island is one of the three Dutch Windwards (along with Saba and St. Maarten), and English is commonly spoken (though you'll also hear Dutch and possibly Spanish). Still, tourism is a pretty low-key affair. Since there's little in the way of conventional Caribbean attributes, who is this island for?