Montserrat is unlike any other port of call in the Lesser Antilles. This 16-kilometre-long British island literally lives cut in two: in the south, the Soufrière Hills volcano and an exclusion zone where Plymouth, the buried former capital, lies; in the north, green hills where life has reclaimed its rights. Ships, generally small, dock at the Little Bay pier or anchor in the bay, on the northwest coast. From the gangway, the contrast is striking: forest-covered hills, a sea fringed with volcanic sand, and in the distance, the silhouette of the massif that changed everything.

Understanding First: The Volcano and Plymouth

In 1995, after four centuries of slumber, the Soufrière Hills volcano woke up. The eruptions that followed, including the one in June 1997, buried Plymouth under ash and mudflows, forcing the evacuation of two-thirds of the island. The capital remains frozen today beneath its grey shell, and its image leaves a lasting mark on those who glimpse it from the authorized lookouts. The volcano observatory, set on a ridge facing the slopes, welcomes visitors: exhibitions, footage of the eruptions and sometimes live monitoring screens let you grasp the scale of the event. Local guides organize tours to the viewpoints, including Garibaldi Hill, from which the view extends over the devastated valley and the rooftops still emerging from the ash. Access varies according to the alert level set by the scientists: your excursion will be adjusted accordingly.

The North, Green and Very Much Alive

It would be unfair to reduce the island to its catastrophe. The north, spared, is covered in dense vegetation that earned it the nickname Emerald Isle, also a nod to its Irish roots: many of the first European settlers came from Ireland, and the island remains the only place in the world, along with the Republic of Ireland, where St. Patrick's Day is a national public holiday. Hiking trails criss-cross the hills. The Oriole Walkway climbs through the rainforest and offers a chance to spot the Montserrat oriole, the national bird, whose call some rangers imitate to draw it within binocular range. Music lovers will remember that producer George Martin set up AIR Studios on these heights, where Dire Straits, The Police and Paul McCartney recorded in the 1980s, before Hurricane Hugo ended the adventure in 1989.

Rendezvous Bay, the Unexpected Beach

All the island's beaches are black sand, except one. Rendezvous Bay, north of the landing, unrolls a crescent of pale sand reached by a trail of about 3 kilometres that crosses a ridge before descending to the sea; allow an hour to an hour and a half of walking, with a steady climb. Less avid hikers can be dropped off by boat from the landing. Swimming and snorkelling are lovely here, in a closed cove with no buildings above it.

Little Bay and the Reconstruction

Around the landing, Little Bay is taking on the look of a capital in the making: the small national museum traces the island's history, from the Arawaks to the eruption, and a few canteens serve grilled chicken, the fish of the day and goat water, the goat stew that serves as the national dish. The residents, about 4,500 today, speak of their island with touching frankness: many lost their homes in the south and chose to stay regardless.

Back on Board

Leaving the anchorage, your gaze inevitably returns to the south and its plume of steam. Few ports of call confront travellers like this with the power of the earth and the tenacity of those who live on it. Montserrat is not told like a Caribbean beach: it is reflected upon, and that is what makes it so hard to forget once the lines are cast off.