From a distance, Sint Eustatius looks like two islands: an obvious volcano rising vertiginously from the sea ("The Quill"), and a series of low hills a few miles northwest. Connecting these two points is the lowland that contains the small island's only town, Oranjestad, and a whole lot of rich history.
Statia (as the island is universally known to locals and tourists alike) is currently a special municipality of the Netherlands, just like its sister Saba twenty miles to the northwest, but has changed hands no fewer than 21 times during its eventful history. In 1636 it was colonized by the Dutch West India Company and for over a hundred years was a relatively quiet backwater where slaves grew sugarcane and tobacco on a patchwork of small plantations. In the mid-1700s, though, it was made a free port and quickly became one of the great trading centers of the Caribbean, supporting a wealthy and cosmopolitan merchant class (including a strong Jewish community). For a time it was known as "The Golden Rock."
Statia has a bit of a special relationship with the US as its government was the very first to recognize the nascent United States of America, albeit in a somewhat off-the-cuff way that eventually proved to be its undoing. In 1776 you could buy damn near anything on Statia, including military arms, which is why the American brig Andrew Doria showed up in Orangestad harbor on November 16, 1776. They fired a 13-gun salute for the garrison of Fort Oranje. Governor Johannes de Graff ordered that an 11-gun salute be made in reply (which per established protocol was recognition of a sovereign flag), and the arms trading was on. Eventually the colonies obtained fully half of their supplies through the island, and it was also a critical transit point for communications with our French allies. Britain took a very dim view of this which was one of the reasons they declared war on the Netherlands in 1780 and sacked Statia in 1781. The French and then the Dutch recaptured it within a few years but the damage was done; trade moved on to other islands and Statia became a backwater once more. From an 18th century peak of 10,000 souls, the population fell to under 1000; now it's almost 4000.
None of this history is readily apparent when you sail into Oranjestad's open, rolly roadstead harbor, but it quickly becomes clearer upon inspection. Fort Oranje has been beautifully restored and dominates the harbor from atop a 120 foot cliff, its cannons trained out to sea. Many original buildings and streets surround it for several blocks, and even the modern town is pockmarked by quite a few ruins. A cobbled slave road leads down the cliffs to the waterfront, where the majority of the warehouses originally stood. Only a few survive; the shoreline itself (which the Dutch, rather typically, expanded outwards a couple hundred feet to accommodate more warehouses) has been reclaimed by the sea over a couple centuries of hurricanes. Two warehouses have been restored, several partial ruins are still standing, and there are a great many foundations, cisterns, and building blocks visible at the shoreline and under the water just offshore. In fact, snorkeling the Orangestad coastline is like going on an archeological expedition. There are quite a few cannons, old anchors, ancient iron ship ribs, and other reminders of Statia's nautical past along with the remains of her once-famed warehouses.
We found Statia to be a very quiet, friendly and unpretentious island. It lacks the rugged splendor of Saba, and has even less tourism. We arrived on a Saturday and found that almost everything is closed on weekends. Like Saba, there's little crime; most everyone leaves cars, homes, and dinghies unlocked. There is wonderful hiking up, around, and into the crater of The Quill. The water is clear and the diving reportedly good.
The friendly customs and immigration ladies were open later than advertised on Saturday and actually reopened their office to get us checked in. The forms and procedures were basically identical to Saba, except that there is a $35 port authority fee (which I paid on Monday as the office is closed weekends). In addition, the National Parks office charges $10/day or $30/week to anchor. This theoretically includes wifi and a mooring ball, but neither actually exists. Hiking on The Quill adds $10/person for an annual permit. So our quick 3-night visit costed $85. At least the wind was moderate and well out of the northeast so we had good sleep; when it pipes up from straight E or goes SE, the anchorage is known to get horrifically rolly.
After checking in on Saturday, we walked down the waterfront road and found a cool little waterfront shop and snack bar in a restored warehouse; we bought some Dutch cheese and crackers and La Trappe beers and enjoyed the sunny afternoon on their deck with Piper. That's where we met Judith, a Dutch girl who is living on Statia for a year working in special education. We got to talking & found that Judith has traveled quite a lot and lived in some really interesting places; we invited her out to the boat for sundowners and fish tacos. The next day, we all went hiking up The Quill and down into the crater, which houses a fantastic little micro-rainforest. Judith worked on Monday but that evening we got together at the excellent Boardwalk Cafe, which is closed weekends but is conveniently located right at the dinghy dock. The delicious specialty: very local goat burgers, made from the same sure-footed trash-eaters that have taken over the hillside.
Other than our time with Judith, we walked around the old town, explored the well-restored Fort Oranje, perused the excellent little history museum (housed in a handsome 18th-century dwelling), took shelter from an afternoon deluge in a friendly snack bar, snorkeled the waterfront, and did some basic provisioning. It was a pretty chill visit; we were glad we came. Still, a big north swell coming in Wednesday was looking like it could make the anchorage miserable, so I cleared us out with customs on Monday afternoon and we picked up anchor for the sail back to Sint Maarten early Tuesday morning.
Statia (as the island is universally known to locals and tourists alike) is currently a special municipality of the Netherlands, just like its sister Saba twenty miles to the northwest, but has changed hands no fewer than 21 times during its eventful history. In 1636 it was colonized by the Dutch West India Company and for over a hundred years was a relatively quiet backwater where slaves grew sugarcane and tobacco on a patchwork of small plantations. In the mid-1700s, though, it was made a free port and quickly became one of the great trading centers of the Caribbean, supporting a wealthy and cosmopolitan merchant class (including a strong Jewish community). For a time it was known as "The Golden Rock."
Statia has a bit of a special relationship with the US as its government was the very first to recognize the nascent United States of America, albeit in a somewhat off-the-cuff way that eventually proved to be its undoing. In 1776 you could buy damn near anything on Statia, including military arms, which is why the American brig Andrew Doria showed up in Orangestad harbor on November 16, 1776. They fired a 13-gun salute for the garrison of Fort Oranje. Governor Johannes de Graff ordered that an 11-gun salute be made in reply (which per established protocol was recognition of a sovereign flag), and the arms trading was on. Eventually the colonies obtained fully half of their supplies through the island, and it was also a critical transit point for communications with our French allies. Britain took a very dim view of this which was one of the reasons they declared war on the Netherlands in 1780 and sacked Statia in 1781. The French and then the Dutch recaptured it within a few years but the damage was done; trade moved on to other islands and Statia became a backwater once more. From an 18th century peak of 10,000 souls, the population fell to under 1000; now it's almost 4000.
None of this history is readily apparent when you sail into Oranjestad's open, rolly roadstead harbor, but it quickly becomes clearer upon inspection. Fort Oranje has been beautifully restored and dominates the harbor from atop a 120 foot cliff, its cannons trained out to sea. Many original buildings and streets surround it for several blocks, and even the modern town is pockmarked by quite a few ruins. A cobbled slave road leads down the cliffs to the waterfront, where the majority of the warehouses originally stood. Only a few survive; the shoreline itself (which the Dutch, rather typically, expanded outwards a couple hundred feet to accommodate more warehouses) has been reclaimed by the sea over a couple centuries of hurricanes. Two warehouses have been restored, several partial ruins are still standing, and there are a great many foundations, cisterns, and building blocks visible at the shoreline and under the water just offshore. In fact, snorkeling the Orangestad coastline is like going on an archeological expedition. There are quite a few cannons, old anchors, ancient iron ship ribs, and other reminders of Statia's nautical past along with the remains of her once-famed warehouses.
We found Statia to be a very quiet, friendly and unpretentious island. It lacks the rugged splendor of Saba, and has even less tourism. We arrived on a Saturday and found that almost everything is closed on weekends. Like Saba, there's little crime; most everyone leaves cars, homes, and dinghies unlocked. There is wonderful hiking up, around, and into the crater of The Quill. The water is clear and the diving reportedly good.
The friendly customs and immigration ladies were open later than advertised on Saturday and actually reopened their office to get us checked in. The forms and procedures were basically identical to Saba, except that there is a $35 port authority fee (which I paid on Monday as the office is closed weekends). In addition, the National Parks office charges $10/day or $30/week to anchor. This theoretically includes wifi and a mooring ball, but neither actually exists. Hiking on The Quill adds $10/person for an annual permit. So our quick 3-night visit costed $85. At least the wind was moderate and well out of the northeast so we had good sleep; when it pipes up from straight E or goes SE, the anchorage is known to get horrifically rolly.
After checking in on Saturday, we walked down the waterfront road and found a cool little waterfront shop and snack bar in a restored warehouse; we bought some Dutch cheese and crackers and La Trappe beers and enjoyed the sunny afternoon on their deck with Piper. That's where we met Judith, a Dutch girl who is living on Statia for a year working in special education. We got to talking & found that Judith has traveled quite a lot and lived in some really interesting places; we invited her out to the boat for sundowners and fish tacos. The next day, we all went hiking up The Quill and down into the crater, which houses a fantastic little micro-rainforest. Judith worked on Monday but that evening we got together at the excellent Boardwalk Cafe, which is closed weekends but is conveniently located right at the dinghy dock. The delicious specialty: very local goat burgers, made from the same sure-footed trash-eaters that have taken over the hillside.
Other than our time with Judith, we walked around the old town, explored the well-restored Fort Oranje, perused the excellent little history museum (housed in a handsome 18th-century dwelling), took shelter from an afternoon deluge in a friendly snack bar, snorkeled the waterfront, and did some basic provisioning. It was a pretty chill visit; we were glad we came. Still, a big north swell coming in Wednesday was looking like it could make the anchorage miserable, so I cleared us out with customs on Monday afternoon and we picked up anchor for the sail back to Sint Maarten early Tuesday morning.
