Dominica and Grand Turk take first prize amongst Week 1 cruise destinations

Half-way through a two-week Caribbean holiday, the mind turns to fantasy. Relaxed, free of work stresses, at peace with the world, you start to contemplate: If I liquidated all my assets, would I have enough to buy that beach bar? Perhaps I could be the owner and captain of a little snorkelling excursion boat? Just how much money would you really need to spend the rest of your life hanging out on a beach, listening to Bob Marley and Jimmy Buffett, watching sunsets and coral reefs for entertainment?

More cash than you’d think, no doubt. Especially when hurricanes rip through the islands or no tourists show up at your bar. But it’s a pleasant little fantasy in which to indulge as you hang suspended in turquoise waters, letting the sun dapple your back as a neon contingent of fish darts in and out of the reef below.

We are cruising, a circle tour of the Caribbean from Barbados on the Sea Princess. Destinations thus far: Dominica, Antigua, the British Virgin Islands, St. Thomas, Grand Turk and Jamaica. Cruising is, of course, an odd way to see a place. You’re in port for six or eight hours, generally allowing a choice of one excursion. What you choose to do colours your whole perception of the place, whether or not it’s actually representative. That said, favourites so far have been Dominica and Grand Turk.

Dominica
Dominica is a wild, mountainous place, still covered with rain forest and dotted with active volcanoes. It’s no wonder Disney set much of the second Pirates of the Caribbean film here; the whole place is an adventure movie set. In the morning I set off with a group in a mini-bus into the mountains, a nail-biting slalom up and down badly paved roads with hairpin turns, little passing room and precipitous drops. About 40-minutes from port we arrived at a little parking spot above a small hydro-electric power station and set off on foot. The rocky path cut up through a jungle of banana and coconut palm, wild fig and climbers, following the big wooden pipe that was channelling water down to the station. Over a river, up a further hill, and we’d arrived at our destination: Ti Tou Gorge. Steps lead down to a clear, triangular pool with a rocky bottom, formed by a restraining wall that’s holding back the river. Over the wall is a valley, and a facing wall of jungle across it. The other two sides of the pool are hemmed in by cliff faces, rising and pushing closer together at the far end. At the back, an opening about 10 feet wide leads back into a passage between cliff walls perhaps 30 feet high.

I was furious at myself for not bringing the waterproof camera, as this was one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. (Thanks to Dominica's web site for the picture.) The water remained crystal clear, but grew much deeper. The cliff walls waved in and out, sometimes forming peaceful little alcoves. About 20 yards in the current picked up, we came around a bend, and found a waterfall crashing down the ravine that formed the back of the gorge. We swam left, approaching the waterfall to the side of the powerful current it created, then were handed from guide to guide across the foaming white cauldron at the fall’s base. To the right of the falls was an alcove with a ledge; guides helped us to scramble up here, from where we could dive into the base of the falls. Still crystal clear, but now 20 feet deep from the force of the pounding water. After the dive, you could just relax and let the current sweep you back toward the starting pool.

After the gorge, we zigged and zagged around more mountains to get to a hot spring, where steaming, sulphurous water pours from the volcanic strata below. Cooled to tolerable temperatures by other springs, channelled into smooth sided pools, it was a heavenly place to relax. I felt my muscles unwinding in the moist heat as I looked up into the rain forest canopy, contemplating a few wild cocoa pods and a hummingbird hanging above my head. It was hard to imagine how my holiday could get any better than its first morning.

And that wasn’t even all Dominica had to offer. Later that afternoon Mom joined me (the early tour would have been a bit too active for her) and we boarded a boat for a spot of whale watching. After two hours of fruitless but picturesque searching, we finally found a pod of three sperm whales relaxing on the waves. We saw two more groups before heading back to shore.

Grand Turk
The largest island in the Turks and Caicos, couldn’t have been more different. Where Dominica is towering volcanic mountains clothed in rain forest, the Grand Turk cruise ship terminal area is a flat, scrubby sand spit barely higher than the tourmaline waters surrounding it. A classic coral reef island, the waters are shockingly vivid, clear and various in their colour. Until, not too far off shore, the shallows abruptly fall over a 7,000 foot cliff into inky, blue-black depths. (I need to fact check the locals’ depth claim, as it seems extraordinary, but there’s no doubt the water is very deep.) The port here is a couple of years old, at most, and purpose-built for the cruise ships. The buildings are festive, brightly coloured and filled with the usual dazzling array of duty free luxuries. Unusually, however, exquisite white beaches stretch along just a stone’s throw from the port, with a resort style pool and a gathering of bars behind them. This is one of the few destinations in the Caribbean where you can walk off your ship and into the water.

We, however, had decided to go snorkelling, and so boarded a waiting boat to head towards some reefs slightly off shore. Like the buildings at the cruise terminal, the boat was new and sparkling with lavish maintenance. The crew was exceptionally attentive, keeping a close eye on Mom and helping her to paddle around more distant parts of the reef. At our second stop, we encountered one of the rays that are so abundant in these waters. The guide was able to bring her up with a handful of squid, then keep her near the surface while we stroked her. Down below, a rather frightening but benign barracuda, at least four feet long, circled, followed by a whole gang of colourful, smaller fish.

The extreme helpfulness and good nature of the snorkel boat crew was matched by every individual we encountered in Grand Turk. Almost everyone you meet in the Caribbean is cheerful, helpful and attentive to tourists, but on Grand Turk this good nature reached a universality and an extreme beyond the other islands. There seemed to be an honest pride in their island and a delight in the enjoyment of visitors. It reminded me a bit of the people of Botswana, who seemed that little bit more welcoming and enthusiastic than those of the other countries we visited in Africa. Services were abundant, including wheelchairs to ferry tired tourists out the long dock to the ships, and a prohibition against receiving tips.

 All part of the Grand Turk experience. And all, clearly, about encouraging visitors to come to this lesser known Caribbean destination. I’d suspect their plan will bear fruit, as long as hurricanes refrain from knocking this exquisite destination from its perilously flat, yet beautiful, location.