As we bounce along through cotton-wool clouds over sparkling blue seas on the new 30-minute prop-plane flight connecting Antigua to the wonderfully named Beef Island Airport in Tortola, I flick through a brochure on these British Virgin Islands. Famed now as a yachting paradise and billionaire’s playground, this jumble of islands poking north from the Caribbean Sea into the Atlantic has a far richer, more compelling history of colonisation, invasion and piracy. Settled by the Amerindians and Arawaks in times BC, it wasn’t until 1493 that Christopher Columbus first sailed over the horizon and brought the BVIs to the attention of Europe, naming them after St Ursula and the 11,000 virgins. There are in fact only 60 islands.
Following centuries saw the British jostle for control with the French, Spanish, Dutch and Danish until we won and established sovereignty in 1672. Pirates hunted the waters and manned island lookouts waiting to pounce on the treasure-laden merchant ships crossing the Sir Francis Drake Channel. It’s here that Robert Louis Stevenson set Treasure Island.
Since then things have understandably changed. Superyachts sail where pirate ships once patrolled. The British influence feels more tame in the face of the BVIs’ own unmistakable culture. And amid the lush tropical islands, perfect hotels and resorts promise luxury and seclusion with a backdrop of spectacular views. I intend to drink it all in.
A ten-minute speedboat ride from Beef Island Airport – ice-cold Carib beer in hand – brings me to Guana Island. Owned by the unfeasibly rich American philanthropist Henry Jarecki (who has his own Bond villain-style lair hidden somewhere on the island), the sprinkling of cottages that make up the Guana resort are unfussy, fresh, white and in perfect keeping with their attractive surroundings. No flatscreen TVs or glossy gymnasiums here – jungle paths guarded by giant iguanas, utopian fruit gardens and bleached white beaches with bath-warm waters are more than enough distraction for guests.
No flatscreen TVs here – jungle paths, fruit gardens and beaches provide distraction
We snorkel near-shore reefs, explore the remote North Beach Villa (a favourite haunt of Daniel Craig and Rachel Weisz apparently) and mix ridiculous cocktails at the self-service honesty bar. The island is all consuming and time becomes completely irrelevant. That is until I find myself stepping back aboard the trusty speedboat for a whistle-stop island tour.
Back on Tortola I meet Aragorn, an eccentric local artist who, from his beach-based workshop, creates huge wonders in metal and fire and curates the famed Full Moon beach parties. His brother Alex wanders in to say hello and I recognise him as editor of the now defunct Surfer’s Path magazine, a fundamental factor in my formative surf years. Now running one of the few surf schools in the BVIs, he’s clearly at home – barefoot, tanned, moving at his own pace. It strikes me that these brothers, who’ve followed different lives yet ended up living yards apart, are a pretty good advert for life in the BVIs.
We of course head towards Branson’s Necker Island, but are waylaid by Painkiller cocktails and a fantastic tropical downpour at the Bitter End yacht club. A sprawling family resort, it’s staffed by enthusiastic youngsters who are very keen to introduce us to their extensive array of watercraft.
Things take a gentler turn as we pootle up to Virgin Gorda – the Fat Lady. Originally named by Columbus after admiring its unmistakable topography, it’s here that I get a taste of real life in the BVIs. Elections are running and the propaganda is everywhere – multi-coloured posters, bills, cars and megaphones tout promises of leadership, community and reliability. Every candidate has a nickname more fantastical than the last.
We stop at Sugar Apple, a tiny primary-coloured kitchen and terrace where Miss Cynthia cooks up the best johnnycakes in the Caribbean, served with spicy chicken wings and tangy mahi mahi and washed down with sugary instant coffee. I stroll around her gardens as she describes how what she grows determines what she cooks. Mouth-watering aromas bubble from multiple pots on the stove. “For later,” says Cynthia.
Fittingly gorged, we cross the island to check in at Rosewood Little Dix Bay. Built exactly 50 years ago by the great conservationist Laurance Rockefeller on an unmatched half-moon beach of pure perfection, you have to look close to see its web of villas and open-air restaurants that blend into the tree-lined shores.
Old school and unpretentious, it’s unmistakably fabulous in a golden era throwback way – afternoon teas on the veranda, pictures of the Queen in the restaurant. I feel like I should be wearing a white tux but make do in boardshorts.
I take a morning stand-up paddle board across the bay and marvel at the resident turtles
The spa here is something to write home about, but it’s the natural wonders that beguile me again. I take an early morning stand-up paddle board across the bay, intermittently diving into the water to cool off and marvel at the resident turtles who are unfazed by my cumbersome presence. I’m swayed back to the safety of my board when a mean looking barracuda takes an interest in me.
Lunch is a high point both literally and gastronomically. Perched on Virgin Gorda Peak with unassailable views over North Sound and Larry Page’s private island, Hog Heaven is an institution frequented by both locals and visitors. Huge slabs of tender pork liberally sauced and accompanied with plantain march off the car-sized barbecue and straight into my mouth. I’m told the views aid digestion and so don’t hold back.
The wonderful eccentricities of BVI life have so far seemed to me to be well removed from a more expected tourist experience. But then we arrive at Valley Trunk.
Built in the 1980s as a private holiday home for the Wildenstein family, its 19 immaculate acres and beach surround a house impeccably maintained and unmolested since construction. Rooms and bathrooms are decked in wild eighties designs. Secret paths disappear into exotic gardens and palm groves that lead to the beach-fronted Bali House, a structure shipped from its home and rebuilt here so guests can dine on Michelin-starred food from the in-house chef. A 17th-century bronze cannon sits menacingly on a promontory to ward off uninvited guests of old.
Our last stop brings us to Peter Island, yet another private paradise. We motor in by yacht after a few days of island hopping and I’m glad of the firm ground and sense of space. Peter Island Resort’s trump cards are its beaches, the mile-long Deadman’s is spectacular and often deserted, or to be sure of complete solitude individual couples can book Honeymoon Beach in its entirety.
No such indulgence for me, though – I have to share my final hours in the BVIs with the turtles, pelicans and hermit crabs. In the distance I even catch a glimpse of another guest. Reality must be beckoning.
Peter Island: Ocean View Rooms are priced from $295, based on double occupancy. peterisland.com
Valley Trunk Estate sleeps up to 24 people (16 adults) priced from £7,431 per night for one to six guests, and £1,004 for each extra guest. valleytrunk.com
The Mooring offers an all-new, three-cabin Moorings 4000 Catamaran for charter from £3,360 for seven nights on the water. moorings.co.uk
Turquoise Holidays offers five nights at Rosewood Little Dix Bay in an Ocean View Room on a B&B basis, followed by five nights at Guana Island in a Seaview Cottage on a full-board basis, from £2,975 per person including flights. turquoiseholidays.co.uk
The new twice-weekly VI Airline flight between Antigua and Beef Island connects with a scheduled BA and Virgin Atlantic flights from London Gatwick and includes a personalised meet and greet. Return flights start from £249pp including taxes. viairlink.com
