Nearly Nonsense: Island Hopping in the Lands of Sea and Sun

I have always had reservations about cruises, because of their environmental impact and the way they enable tourists to take up space without contributing to local economies. Spoiler alert: I just went on a cruise.

A heron in St. Kitts. A local pointed it out
and said with confidence, "That's a pelican."

Because competing with those reservations has always been my love for being on boats and my lifelong desire to visit the Caribbean. Plus, I didn’t want to go by myself. So my parents and I reached a compromise: we would take a cruise, but it would be on a small ship, to minimize the environmental and social impact on the places we visited. So a few weeks ago, we boarded the beautiful Wind Spirit (by Windstar) and set sail—literally!—for the windward islands of the Caribbean.

The Wind Spirit carries fewer than 150 passengers
and uses sails to reduce its fuel use.

The great irony of my obsession with the sea is that I’m not actually much of a beach person. For one thing, I burn like a lobster, even in the shade (which I did on the very first day). Second, I’m not a huge fan of being in the water: the shock of the cold, the push and pull of the surf, the squishy/poky/spiky things you step on. I did go for a swim a couple of times, but for the most part, I wanted to go to the Caribbean for the same reason I want to travel anywhere: to learn about another corner of the world.

So here’s a little of what I learned:

1. I love being on a ship under sail—as long as I have a steady supply of meclizine.

The view from our cabin, just above the water line.
The highest swells we got were about 8 feet, but
on a small ship, even that will toss you around a bit!

2. Nevis is the birthplace of Alexander Hamilton, who was disappointingly very little like the character in the musical.

Our local guide proudly sang us the
St. Kitts and Nevis national anthem at
the foot of this symbol of colonialism.

3. You can, occasionally, find yourself practically alone on a Caribbean white-sand beach.

Pinney Beach on Nevis

Jolly Beach in Antigua. Antigua has 365 beaches,
one for every day of the year, so it's perhaps no
wonder that they're not always packed with people!

4. The 180-degree rainbow does exist.

St. John's, Antigua. Featuring a tugboat.

5. The houses on Terre-de-Haut (Guadeloupe) open right onto the sea.

This adorable little town full of red-roofed houses
and golf carts would be a great place to have
a writer’s retreat.

6. Hummingbirds like the Caribbean as much as tourists do!

Not a very clear picture, you say?
You're welcome to try to do better
with just a cell phone!

7. Dominica is less “white-sand beaches” and more “jungles and waterfalls.” Also, the current president is the first woman and the first Indigenous (Kaligano) person to hold that office.

Trafalgar Falls in Dominica. It's pronounced
"Domin-EE-ca," by the way. Our guide begged
us to stop confusing it with the Dominican Republic.

8. Hot spring changing rooms don’t bother to heat their showers; they figure you can warm up in the springs.

A sign at Tia's Hot Springs in Dominica.

9. The tiny island of Mayreau (St. Vincent and the Grenadines) is still recovering from Hurricane Beryl, which stripped the roofs off the houses and flattened the local church in 2024.

What's left of the Church of the
Immaculate Conception.

9(b). But the local goats aren’t concerned.

Observe the look of bliss on the goat's face!

10. Martinique is the place to go for an honest history of colonization and slavery. La Savane des Esclaves, an open-air museum, is the brainchild of one remarkable man, Gilbert Larose, who decided in 2003 to tell the history of the Black and Indigenous inhabitants of Martinique. Without government funding, he built the museum from proceeds of books he wrote about Martinique history. Naturally, I bought one. You know me and books.

Romain, the enslaved man who spurred
the riots that led to emancipation in 1848.

11. Barbados isn’t actually in the Caribbean. It’s a coral island, not part of the volcanic chain that formed its neighbors, and it’s technically in the Atlantic Ocean.

A Mushroom Rock in Bathsheba, Barbados. The rock
has been carved into that shape by centuries of surf.

12. There is so much life on these islands! Human, plant, and animal—I couldn’t get over the vitality and beauty of these places. I hope to return to each of them someday, to spend more than just a few hours getting to know these remarkable islands and their remarkable people.