On to a municipality of the Netherlands…. 20/04/2022

Left Montserrat on Monday morning, the 17th – bound for the Dutch island of St Eustatius (commonly called Statia – pronounced Stay-sha). It was a fairly long sail, 69 nautical miles, so I left early, at 0630. It was straightforward – I set a course of about 320 degrees, taking us just past the windward side of Redonda (a huge uninhabited rock belonging to Antigua) and then along the windward coasts of Nevis and St Kitts, rounding the latter and heading across the few miles to the leeward coast of Statia. With an easterly wind, and a broadly favourable current, it was a fast trip – we averaged just over 6.6 knots and arrived at 1700. 

Statia is little: about 5 miles by 2 miles and 8 square miles in area. The population is just over 3,000. It has a chequered history: between the 17th and 19th centuries it changed hands 22 times, passing between the Dutch, the French and the British, but ultimately reverting to its original Dutch status. At one time it was very prosperous, with a large merchant community and a sort of free port status, benefiting from British and French restrictions on trading. It is famous for the fact that it was the first country to formally recognise the independent status of the United States of America during the American War of Independence. (This recognition was subsequently punished by the British, who invaded and pillaged the island). 

Much of Statia is a national park, right out to sea to the 30 metre depth contour. The only anchorage is in front of the capital, Oranjestad, where we are anchored about 150 metres off a small black sand beach. There’s a road along the shore with a couple of restaurants, a hotel and the port facilities, but the town is above, sitting on top of a cliff that is about 8 stories high. It’s an attractive town: there’s the remains of an old fort and the original Dutch Reformed Church, and a good number of old colonial houses, very well maintained. It’s pretty quiet – there were 6 other yachts here when I arrived, now down to only 3 – although there are several cargo ships sitting in the outer anchorage.

The outstanding feature of Statia is The Quill, a 2000 foot (600m) dormant volcano, which completely dominates the south of the island. It last erupted 1,500 years ago. This is walkable – I did it today. It’s a great walk, up through forest and as you get higher so the temperature falls – at the highest point it’s 3 degrees cooler. I went right up to the highest point, which at times was a bit of a scramble up huge rocks. At one point there was a rope, allowing you to pull yourself up a 15 foot rock face. So this was quite heavy going, but certainly worth it – the views from the top were fantastic! 

It’s possible to walk down into the caldera of the volcano too. From the lower edge of the crater, about 450 metres up, the path goes down to 283 metres above sea level, and its tropical rainforest in there. I didn’t really have time today (or didn’t have the energy to add another 2 hours to a 5 hour walk!), but I’ll go back in a couple of days’ time and do that part. One piece of luck I had was to see a Red-Bellied Racer snake, which is unique to neighbouring Saba and Statia. Amazing I saw it, because it’s very well camouflaged among dead leaves on the trail. It must have been its movement that caught my eye, and there it was, sort of frozen on the path. I don’t know what you’re supposed to say to a snake, but I said “Hello Snakey, ok, just hang on there Snakey” while I pulled out my phone. And it proved very obliging, so I must have said the right thing! It’s not poisonous, so there was nothing to worry about. 

All-in-all, a great day! A really stunning natural environment, and the national parks office gives out excellent information in return for a $10 hiking permit. I’m really glad I stopped in Statia.
Officially the language of Statia is Dutch, but in practice it’s English. Although kids learn Dutch in school, other subjects are all taught in English. And the currency is the US dollar. Very pragmatic – very Dutch. Information boards on the trail are in English only. It does make things easy.

Typical of a place with a small population, the atmosphere is very friendly. When I checked in yesterday I had a long conversation with the security lady, who is actually from the Dutch island of Aruba. I made myself popular with her and a young Dutch policeman from Holland, because when they briefly said something in Dutch I understood, so butted in in Afrikaans. There was much merriment about this – he immediately said in Dutch “Ah, you’re not really English, you’re a South African!”. As I walked up through the town this morning a police car went past and hooted and waved – my friend!