Situated in the Windward Islands of the West Indies in the Lesser Antilles, Saint Lucia is an island country with a unique history and culture, beautiful nature and endemic species both above and below the waves. Pierre Constant tells us about his adventure there.
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The first time I heard about Saint Lucia was 45 years ago when I was a naturalist guide in the Galapagos Islands. Back then, we were told that the ancestor of the famous Darwin’s finches was a little finch from Saint Lucia that had been blown by the northeast trade winds to a remote archipelago in the eastern Pacific. The Saint Lucia black finch (Melanospiza richardsoni) gave rise to a remarkable speciation of the 14 Darwin’s finches, which led the 19th-century English naturalist Charles Darwin to elaborate his mind-blowing Theory of Evolution. Little did I know that the winds of destiny would one day blow me from France across the Atlantic to this speck of volcanic land in the Caribbean.
Located at 13°53’00” N latitude and 60°58’00 W longitude, Saint Lucia has a land area of 617km2 with a maximum elevation of 950m (3,120ft) at Mount Gimie. It is part of the Windward Islands of the West Indies in the Lesser Antilles, lying south of the French island of Martinique and north of St Vincent and the Grenadines.
Geology
Although the oldest rocks of northern Saint Lucia are of Miocene age, between 16 and 18 million years old, the more recent volcanic activity is that of the Soufrière volcano. The Soufrière Volcanic Centre in Saint Lucia’s Qualibou caldera (3.5km to 5km wide) was formed between 32,000 and 39,000 years ago. The last eruption was in 1766. Since then, only sulphur and hot springs have remained. Two volcanic plugs, the landmarks of Petit Piton and Gros Piton, formed from silica-rich lava (dacite), would be 200,000 to 300,000 years old.
The Lesser Antilles are found on the eastern side of the Caribbean Plate, which is in subduction under the South American Continental Plate. From east to northeast, the Atlantic Oceanic Plate is, in turn, subducted under the Caribbean Plate at a rate of 19mm per year. It is responsible for the creation of the Lesser Antilles volcanic arc, which manifests itself as a line of active volcanic islands, including Saint Lucia. Further north, the North American Plate is in subduction under the Caribbean Plate and the Greater Antilles, from Puerto Rico to Haiti and Cuba.
The whole region is, therefore, subject to intense seismic activity. The islands are a continuous arc chain of calc-alkaline composition, i.e., rich in potassium and sodium oxides, with a high proportion of silica (SiO2). This explains the andesite and dacite rocks of the volcanic arcs. The Lesser Antilles represent a volcanic event that began in the Oligocene. The basaltic oceanic plateau, which forms most of the Caribbean Plate, is dated to be about 90 million years old. In summary, the Lesser Antilles Arc comprises 17 active volcanoes of calc-alkaline composition, aligned west of the Lesser Antilles Trench, caused by the subduction of the Atlantic Oceanic Plate under the Caribbean Plate.
History
The first humans migrated to South America 30,000 years ago, crossing through the Bering Strait from Asia. Around 5000 BC, Amerindians made their way from Amazonia to the Lesser Antilles. The first inhabitants of the island of SaintLucia were the Arawaks around AD 200-400, and their pottery has been found. The Kalinago, also known as the Island Caribs, conquered the Arawaks around AD 800, displacing or killing them and taking their women.
Whether the 15th-century Italian explorer Christopher Columbus sighted the island on his fourth voyage in 1502 is not proven, but Juan de la Cosa’s map mentions it in 1500. Known as “Jambe de Bois” (Wooden Leg), the French pirate François le Clerc, in the late 1550s, set up camp on Pigeon Island, from where he attacked passing Spanish ships.
Blown off course in 1605, the English ship Oliphe Blossome landed with 67 colonists who settled on the island. Repeated attacks by hostile Caribs forced them to flee. In 1650, after a successful treaty with the Caribs, the French claimed the island. Saint Lucia became an official French crown colony in 1674, a dependency of Martinique. The island remained French until well into the 18th century. But for 160 years, the English continued a territorial dispute with their rival over the island, and Saint Lucia changed hands many times.
Slavery was abolished by the French in 1794. However, the British regained control of the island in 1803 and continued slavery until the slave trade was abolished in 1807. “L’Armée française dans les bois” (the French army in the woods) fled into the rainforest, where they established maroon communities. Full freedom for slaves, after a period of apprenticeship, was granted by the British in 1838. People of African descent eventually outnumbered those of Carib descent.
Many Saint Lucians served in WWII. During the Battle of the Caribbean, a German U-boat sank two British ships in Castries Harbour in March 1942. The United States used the island as a military base, with a naval base at Gros Islet and an air base at Vieux Fort in the south of the island. Under Sir John Compton of the United Workers Party, independence was peacefully gained in 1979. The island remained a member of the British Commonwealth, with Queen Elizabeth II as monarch.
Getting there
Searching for a new dive destination outside the norm, I had no clue at first where to look. Apart from Cuba, I had never been to the Caribbean, much of which I felt was overly influenced by American tourism. But remembering Darwin’s historic finches, I thought, Saint Lucia, why not?
Flights from France to Saint Lucia were very expensive since they transited systematically through the United States. After checking the map of the region, I realised that my destination was just south of Martinique, a territory of France. Flights to Fort de France were half-price. Then, it was a short ferry crossing to Castries, the capital of Saint Lucia.
I had two days to explore Fort de France and nearby St Pierre, at the foot of Montagne Pelée, the site of a memorable volcanic eruption that destroyed the town in 1902. Strolling along the waterfront one morning, I was struck by the sight of a 3,500-passenger German cruise liner docked at the wharf. The next morning, it was replaced by another from a Norwegian cruise line. This was mass tourism heaven, alright.
With an evening departure, the French-run ferry, L’Express des Îles, was fast and efficient. It arrived in Castries after 9 p.m. I was picked up at the terminal by a woman from the guesthouse. We drove up the hill through a maze of small, steep and narrow lanes that overlooked the town. The next day, I walked downhill to the town to get my bearings, change some money and pick up a rental car from Pointe Seraphine, a good 1.25-hour walk. The only hiccup was that I needed a medical certificate to drive! I had to find a doctor in town.
Driving up the hill in the labyrinth of narrow streets, I got lost and ended up at a dead end close to the forest. Surprised, the friendly Rasta locals helped guide me down the hill and up to where I needed to go. I made it to Rodney Bay that afternoon.
This would be my first week, and I had a dive plan in mind. From my apartment, a healthy stroll took me down to the Rodney Bay Marina. Despite an erratic loop, I found the dive centre at the end of a narrow lane at the back of a fancy resort. It was 4 p.m., and the door was closed. Bummer!
So, I showed up at 7 a.m. the next morning to be sure I would not miss out on a dive day. The speedboat, which did not depart until 9 a.m., had five divers on board, three of them British. Due to the prevailing northeast trade winds, we were off to the Soufrière area further south on the west coast. During the bumpy 45-minute ride, I noticed the hilly landscape covered in lush green jungle. The volcanic cliffs, with layers of black rock embedded in white ash deposits, were a sign of acidic and explosive eruptions. Black and brown sandy beaches nestled in secluded coves were the location of an exclusive resort.
Diving
Pinnacles, south of Anse Chastanet, was our first dive. It was rather dark underwater, with plenty of barrel sponges, algae, small, purplish-blue gorgonians and some sculpted yellow and white sea fans.
There was fish life, mostly small reef fish, but no schools of fish. Among others, there was the foureye butterflyfish (Chaetodon capistratus), Atlantic bigeye (Priacanthus arenatus), the longspine squirrelfish (Holocentrus rufus), a small school of French grunts (Haemulon flavolineatum), the redband parrotfish (Sparisoma aurofrenatum) and the stoplight parrotfish (Sparisoma viride). An inquisitive spotted moray (Gymnothorax moringa), which had black specks on a white body, followed me happily for a while, expecting a white egg—a feeding custom of the past. A delightful smooth trunkfish (Lactophrys triqueter) fluttered about, wondering what I was up to.
Turtle Reef had pretty much the same scenery—a barrel sponge heaven. Here, I met the colourful yellow and purple Spanish hogfish (Bodianus rufus), a peacock flounder (Bothus lunatus) and the doctorfish (Acanthurus chirurgus) with dark bars on the sides. Oblivious of my approach, a cool hawksbill sea turtle resting on the bottom raised an eye to acknowledge my presence. Little schools of smallmouth grunts (Haemulon chrysargyreum) with golden stripes and yellow fins added a touch of colour to the dull landscape. Other species encountered included schools of mahogany snapper (Lutjanus mahogoni) and lane snapper (Lutjanus synagris).
The next day, it was back to the Soufrière area across a choppy sea. We stopped behind Petit Piton, Saint Lucia’s postcard-perfect conical peak, an extrusion of dacite lava rising upwards like a flame to 749m.
Piton Wall. New fish sightings included the small barred hamlet (Hypoplectrus puella), a Caribbean endemic, and a couple of attractive whitespotted filefish (Cantherhines macrocerus) with orange bellies. I marvelled at the painted hues of sponges in distinct colours, with an arrowhead crab as a host. The highlight was a school of large Atlantic spadefish (Chaetodipterus faber) that suddenly zoomed towards me for a closer look. The water temperature was a steady 28°C.
Fantasia. There were lots of particles underwater, which affected the visibility. Small schools of creole wrasse (Clepticus parrae) in dark blue, black and orange wandered about swiftly. Rope sponges were a purplish red. The ocean surgeonfish (Acanthurus bahianus) was one of a kind, and little schools of striped grunts (Haemulon striatum) added to the picture.
Superman’s Flight, northwest of Petit Piton, was by far my favourite site. Rounding the point towards the south, the dive had a noticeable current, triggering active marine life. It was an enchantment of sponges, with several species of blue, purple, yellow, red and pink. The usual barrel sponges sometimes came in clusters of three to five sponges joined together. White whip corals seemed to flow in the current like strands of hair.
I spotted a rather shy rock beauty angelfish (Holacanthus tricolor), which was a jewel of golden yellow and dark blue. A longspine porcupinefish, also known as a balloonfish (Diodon holocanthus), hovered stoically next to purple rope sponges. Azure vase sponges were a highlight. A banded Western Atlantic trumpetfish (Aulostomus maculatus), widespread in tropical waters from Florida to Brazil, was curious about my presence.
Coral Gardens, near Gros Piton (798m), was the southernmost dive site I experienced. A great barracuda (Sphyraena barracuda) cruised over a bed of seagrass. There were lots of yellowtail snappers (Ocyurus chrysurus), which were white with yellow stripes and had forked yellow tails. A pretty yellowhead wrasse (Halichoeres garnoti) had a green body, black dorsal spine and black bar. The golden hamlet (Hypoplectrus gummigutta) of the seabass family was another Caribbean endemic at this site.
Armed with a trident harpoon and a translucent plastic tube, the dive guide was on the hunt for lionfish, a pest in these waters, “but also good eating!” he beamed with a smile.
Wrecks. The wreck sites of MV Vicky B and the Lesleen M are found south of Anse La Raye near Anse Cochon. The first is a 47.1m-long Guyanese coaster (built in Germany in 1960) that was purposely scuttled in May 2018 for smuggling an illegal cargo of 46kg of marijuana, 3kg of cocaine, weapons, ammunition and grenades. It sits upright on the sandy bottom at a depth of 20m.
Diving around the stern of the Vicky B, I saw that the propeller was still in place, with yellow snappers swimming around it. An inquisitive French angelfish (Pomacanthus paru) checked me out up close. A spotted scorpionfish (Scorpaena plumieri) was snoozing on a ledge. Inside the hold sat a forklift with a swivel chair in front of it.
A fin kick away, resting on its starboard side, was the 51m (165ft) freighter Lesleen M, an older wreck sunk by the Department of Fisheries in 1986 to create an artificial reef. The average depth of the wreck was 15m (45ft), with a maximum depth of 20m (65ft). The stern was home to soldierfish and a little school of striped grunts. Penetration was possible, with lots of ravishing yellow tube sponges seen on the railings. The bow was half collapsed on the starboard side.
Anse Cochon was a shallow dive site on a sandy bottom with lots of barrel sponges. Here, I encountered a red hind (Epinephelus guttatus) with red spots. I also saw an amazing species in the grouper family—the tobaccofish (Serranus tabacarius). It was orange-banded with a white belly and specks of white and black on its back. It is found in the western Atlantic, from Georgia to Brazil, and the Caribbean.
Fairyland, located at the point of Anse Chastanet, is a plateau that slopes down from 13m to 65m. It is often subject to strong currents, which keep the corals and sponges hyper-clean and vibrantly coloured. Friendly sea turtles are usually seen at this site.
Topside excursions
After five days of diving and 10 dives, I was off on a road trip around Saint Lucia.
Pigeon Island. Now a national park, the historic site of Pigeon Island was a short drive north of Rodney Bay. Perched on two hilltops overlooking the sea, Fort Rodney was built by the 18th-century British Admiral George Rodney to monitor possible attacks by the French from Martinique, 40km away.
Apart from a pleasant hiking trail that loops around the site, not much remained of Fort Rodney (built in 1779-1782) besides a few brass cannons. However, the views from the top were well worth the effort. Foreign visitors were required to pay an entrance fee of US$10.
Millet Bird Sanctuary Trail. My purpose was to experience the nature and wildlife of Saint Lucia close to Mount Gimie (950m), in the heart of the island. The Millet Bird Sanctuary Trail offered the promise of five endemic birds. A national pride, the most iconic one was the Saint Lucia parrot (Amazona versicolor), which was blue, green, yellow and red, depending on the individual. It lived at a relatively high altitude in the forest canopy, where it fed on fruits and nuts.
Following a not-so-obvious narrow road with lots of twists and turns, I reached the reserve and came to a dead end. Wearing high rubber boots, a compulsory local guide led me up a muddy trail with many steps. Through the wet jungle, we accessed a few viewpoints overlooking the coffee-coloured John Compton Dam below.
As it had been raining, the trail was slippery. Not a single bird was in sight for the next 2.5 hours! We did, however, spot a few yellow forest crabs with their claws open in a menacing display. An endemic Saint Lucia anole lizard (Anolis luciae) posed gracefully for a photo. Many red and yellow flowers of the blue mahoe (Hibiscus elatus) littered the ground.
After a number of ups and downs, we reached the end of the trail’s loop. Admittedly, I was a bit disappointed when suddenly, my guide exclaimed, “Look down there!” Under a large rock was a Saint Lucia boa constrictor (Boa orophias)! Perfectly coiled with its head resting on its body, the snake flicked its forked blue tongue a couple of times to sniff at me as I crouched down for a close-up shot. No harm done on either side.
Anse La Raye, a fishing village, had a very laid-back local feel. Strolling through the tiny main square, I met an old Rastaman peacefully rolling his joint while we had a chat. A stone’s throw away, I met another man outside the wooden Claudia Bar, enjoying his rum and coke and more than happy to speak French with me. Despite the British takeover, the old 19th-century French culture had not completely disappeared. Most of the place names in SaintLucia, including bays and rivers, were all French. Two fourth-generation Indian Rastas with dreadlocks, who had never been to India, were relaxing in their homemade chairs on the sidewalk. There was a very cool vibe in Anse La Raye.
Botanical Gardens. Soufrière was my next stop. The historic Diamond Falls Botanical Gardens were developed by a descendant of the Devaux family on a plantation granted to the family by King Louis XIV of France in 1713. Besides the beautiful flowers and plants, the waterfalls, sulphur springs and mineral baths were quite a sight to behold in their setting of lush vegetation and hanging vines.
Volcano and sulphur springs. The nearby “drive-in volcano” and sulphur springs were what I call a perfect “booby trap” for tourists. One paid a US$10 entrance fee to join a group of 25 visitors. A talkative guide led us to a viewpoint overlooking the desolate volcanic landscape with active fumaroles and gurgling metallic grey mud springs. We took our photographs and just walked back downhill. No mention was made of the interpretation centre up the road, open to visitors, with a short, interesting video. The town of Soufrière takes its name from the phenomenon of sulphur naturally produced by the volcano.
The Têt Paul Nature Trail, to the south of the town, was an attraction that let you do the walking loop on your own. From a viewpoint, one could see Petit Piton and Gros Piton, Saint Lucia’s famous volcanic conical peaks, in the morning light. If you start early, birds will be present along the trail. I was fortunate to see three endemic species—the Saint Lucia warbler (Setophaga delicata), the Saint Lucia or Lesser Antillean pewee (Contopus latirostris) and the Saint Lucia thrasher (Ramphocinclus sanctaeluciae).
Saltibus Waterfall. A meandering road skirted the west coast to the towns of Choiseul and Laborie on the south coast. From there, it was a drive north into the hills to the remote location of Saltibus. The Saltibus Waterfall trail was difficult to find in the jungle. As it started to rain a bit, a local offered to help.
I had decided not to take my camera and camera bag with me—a pity indeed, as I had missed the opportunity to photograph the falls or any potential birds. It was a good premonition after all, for I was soaked to the bone by the pouring rain on the 1.25-hour, steep, up-and-down trek back! Tree ferns everywhere made me feel like I was in Jurassic Park.
When evening came, I had dinner at Mama Tilly’s, a local legend and institution in Laborie, found in a typical worn wooden house. I enjoyed the cheapest tuna meal in Saint Lucia, including a Piton beer, for EC$40 (US$15).
Vieux Fort, at the very south of the island, is where the international airport is located. The town and harbour do not offer much interest. But a side road takes you further to the peninsula and up to the so-called Moule-à-Chique lighthouse on a ridge overlooking the Caribbean Sea on one side and the Atlantic Ocean on the other.
The old lighthouse and radar station towered above the panoramic view. A trail cut through a grassy patch to the southernmost point of Saint Lucia. The wind blew fiercely, hard enough to send a person flying off the island. Here, a stunning, sheer basalt cliff plummeting 223m into the raging waters commanded respect. This was the stimulating playground of acrobatic seabirds, such as the red-billed tropicbird (Phaethon aethereus), which joyfully swooped back and forth along the cliffside.
La Tille Falls. Heading up to Micoud on the east coast, I stopped at La Tille Falls, which was uphill into the jungle. Wearing a knitted cap, an old, bearded Rastaman greeted me. “This is my place,” he said. “There is an entry fee. I have to make a living.”
Only five minutes away, down a flight of steps, the falls were nestled in green vegetation, with a pool of creamy coffee-coloured water cascading down. The real attraction was a patch of plants and flowers near the house, a magnet for several species of birds. I crouched down patiently and managed to get some shots of a breathtaking Antillean crested hummingbird (Orthorhyncus cristatus), emerald green with a black and turquoise crest of feathers on top of its head; an endemic bananaquit (Coereba flaveola), which was yellow with a black head and a white stripe across its eye; and a Lesser Antillean bullfinch (Loxigilla noctis), black with a red throat, plucking yellow flowers.
Final thoughts
Despite a conspicuous American influence, there was a sharp contrast between the greedy tourist traps and the cool vibe of the Rastas, with their rap, reggae music and rejection of the system. Saint Lucia has an undeniable charm that lies deep within nature and its unique wildlife. ■
References: diamondstlucia.com, stlucia.org, wikipedia.org
