Discover Dominica
Still relatively unspoiled by modern civilization, this Caribbean isle offers forested mountains, boiling lakes and a resident pod of sperm whales
By Debi Lander - February 1, 2009
An abrupt turn of the steering wheel maneuvered the Jeep off the narrow rutted road. The driver jumped out, grabbed his machete, ran to the nearby trees and hacked down a few mangos. The man sliced through golden skin, revealing fiery orange flesh, so juicy it oozed down his sinewy arms. “Fruit of the island,” he said, offering the pieces to his passengers.
Clearly, you don’t have to make a trip to the market to enjoy a quick snack on Dominica (pronounced dom-in-EE-ka), a relatively unknown Caribbean island that has changed little since British novelist Alec Waugh called it “green, all green” in 1948. Wrote Waugh: “I cannot believe that in terms of grandeur and majesty there can be found anything in the world to rival Dominica’s succession of forest-covered mountains.”
Life here is elementary: rain pours, sun shines. The cloud-shrouded rainforest drizzles over 300 inches of precipitation each year, filling Dominica’s 365 rivers. Mountains soar toward 5,000 feet, and the ground is so emerald it might be mistaken for Ireland.
A view from the air confirms the island’s sparsely populated and unspoiled state. You have to look closely to glimpse small towns edging the coast. On Dominica, you step back in time, slipping off worries like a snake shedding skin. Then you bask in the sun with the skittering geckos.
“The Nature Island” of the Caribbean (not to be confused with the similarly named Dominican Republic) lies tucked into the Windwards, a dollop of paradise between Martinique and French Guadeloupe. Dominica’s inhabitants proudly self-govern their 290-square-mile commonwealth, which celebrated its 30th anniversary last year.
Its land, sea and people are gorgeous. No wonder producers chose the site for scenes in Pirates of the Caribbean II and III. The panoramic backdrop of Morne Trois Pitons National Park, which is protected as a World Heritage Site, covers 17,000 primeval acres–two thirds of the country.
Yet Dominica remains hidden from mass tourism, perhaps partly because white sandy beaches are rare; most are rocky and narrow. Fewer than 85,000 visitors spend at least a night here each year. That means you needn’t worry about running into partying conventioneers–and that you’ll find not a single high-rise, chain store or name-brand hotel on the island. There are no traffic jams, late-night casinos, designer boutiques or plush resorts–just kind people, pure water and spectacular views. And no one wears a watch. On Dominica, island time prevails.
So slow down. This place is oblivious to 21st century worries and demands; waterfalls gush, whales breed, lakes boil and tribes still exist. And adventure awaits you at every turn.
Tribal Beginnings
First came the Arawaks, then the Kalinago Indians settled. In the 1500s, pirates and explorers like Sir Francis Drake and Sir John Hawkins started arriving. Most mispronounced the tribal name, making the word “Kalinago” sound similar to “cannibal.” Over many years, the slur grew into myth and the Caribbean natives became “Caribs”–thought to be man-eaters.
Share This Article With Others