Cabrits, Dominica
The wettest island in the Caribbean, Dominica, is consequently a naturalist's paradise, with a riot of lush vegetation and a rich diversity of bird life. Unexceptional beaches and a lack of direct flights from either Europe or the U.S. have spared this island paradise – some 290 sq. miles in extent – the ravages of mass tourism. Some 160 species of bird have been recorded on the island including two rare endemic parrots, known locally as the jacquot and the sisserou. The group that went with Lindblad naturalist Berit Solstad on the morning walk through the rainforest was privileged to see the former; the latter is prominently displayed on the Dominican flag. The nature walk took place at the RARE Center that has been supported by Lindblad Expeditions over a number of years. It works both in Dominica and other Caribbean islands to raise environmental awareness in the younger generation of islanders, some of whom have been our very impressive guides over recent days.
Our mooring was beneath one of the most impressive eighteenth-century forts in the Caribbean, Fort Shirley, named after a one-time British Governor of the island who also gave his name to Shirley Heights in Antigua. Those on the historical option walked up to the fort from the ship in the company of Dr Lennox Honeychurch, longtime friend of Lindblad Expeditions and the leading authority on the history of Dominica, his island home. He gave us a thorough overview of the fort and enthralled us with tales of historic visitors to Prince Rupert Bay that it overlooks. He also intrigued us with his "what if?" approach to the great naval encounter between France and Britain in 1782, the Battle of the Saints. If the wind had not suddenly changed direction beyond the bay, then the English might not have won the battle. If the French had won instead, they might have retained control of enough Caribbean islands to stave off the financial crisis that led to the French Revolution and subsequently to the need to dispose of Louisiana. Napoleon might never have left the shores of Corsica and North America, and hence large parts of the rest of the world, might today be speaking French rather than English. But, as we reflected during our superlative deck lunch as the wind picked up on our way out of the harbor, "the wind bloweth where it listeth". We had a fine afternoon under sail in prospect.
The wettest island in the Caribbean, Dominica, is consequently a naturalist's paradise, with a riot of lush vegetation and a rich diversity of bird life. Unexceptional beaches and a lack of direct flights from either Europe or the U.S. have spared this island paradise – some 290 sq. miles in extent – the ravages of mass tourism. Some 160 species of bird have been recorded on the island including two rare endemic parrots, known locally as the jacquot and the sisserou. The group that went with Lindblad naturalist Berit Solstad on the morning walk through the rainforest was privileged to see the former; the latter is prominently displayed on the Dominican flag. The nature walk took place at the RARE Center that has been supported by Lindblad Expeditions over a number of years. It works both in Dominica and other Caribbean islands to raise environmental awareness in the younger generation of islanders, some of whom have been our very impressive guides over recent days.
Our mooring was beneath one of the most impressive eighteenth-century forts in the Caribbean, Fort Shirley, named after a one-time British Governor of the island who also gave his name to Shirley Heights in Antigua. Those on the historical option walked up to the fort from the ship in the company of Dr Lennox Honeychurch, longtime friend of Lindblad Expeditions and the leading authority on the history of Dominica, his island home. He gave us a thorough overview of the fort and enthralled us with tales of historic visitors to Prince Rupert Bay that it overlooks. He also intrigued us with his "what if?" approach to the great naval encounter between France and Britain in 1782, the Battle of the Saints. If the wind had not suddenly changed direction beyond the bay, then the English might not have won the battle. If the French had won instead, they might have retained control of enough Caribbean islands to stave off the financial crisis that led to the French Revolution and subsequently to the need to dispose of Louisiana. Napoleon might never have left the shores of Corsica and North America, and hence large parts of the rest of the world, might today be speaking French rather than English. But, as we reflected during our superlative deck lunch as the wind picked up on our way out of the harbor, "the wind bloweth where it listeth". We had a fine afternoon under sail in prospect.
