Montserrat
Montserrat’s first European settlers were Irish who arrived from St. Kitts in 1630 after experiencing problems with the Kittitian Protestants. A second wave of Irish settlers arrived in 1649, after Cromwell conquered Ireland. They began as small farmers growing mixed crops, but the island’s economy slowly changed. Sugar became the dominant crop, and with it came the forced labor of enslaved Africans; a transformation that reshaped the island’s demographics, economy, and culture entirely. As plantations consolidated, smaller Irish farms became uneconomical, and many settlers returned home. The Irish settler presence left a visible mark on Montserrat in surnames like O’Brien, Ryan, and Dublin, and in the island’s nickname, the Emerald Isle. But Montserrat’s culture is predominantly shaped by the African and African-descended majority whose ancestors were enslaved here, and whose traditions, music, and foodways, including the beloved goat water stew, define the island today.
In 1995, the population was around 11,000 people, who farmed, fished, and worked in the tourism industry. The island also attracted a number of North American retirees and second-home owners. Then, unexpectedly, the Soufrière Hills volcano erupted in 1995, and major eruptions in 1997 led to the evacuation and eventual destruction of the capital, Plymouth. Living and business conditions became very harsh, with volcanic dust polluting the air nearly every day. There followed an exodus of nearly two-thirds of the population, and those without homes in the north had to resettle in the safe zone. The current population is around 5,000.
In the summer of 2003, the huge volcanic dome collapsed, and the volcano showed every sign of going to sleep. This led to the reopening of many areas. The government removed the ash, some of it several feet thick, from many roads. People started repairing their damaged houses. You could go very close to Plymouth and up the hills behind it for dramatic views of the path of destruction and the ruined town. Then, early in 2006, there was another spurt of dome growth, lots of activity, and several major eruptions, including one of the biggest ever on February 11, 2010. The exclusion zone was moved back up from Bransby Point to Old Road Bluff. The Vue Pointe Hotel, having been completely renovated and booked solid for the season, was evacuated. It is not easy living with a volcano. The volcano is still smoking after all these years, but it has been quieter, and you can now get quite close for an excellent view of the buried city.
Today, as you sail past Montserrat, it is like two different lands. The southern half is starkly beautiful, a harsh terrain dominated by the awesome Soufrière Hills volcano, barren and smoking against the skyline. The remains of the ruined capital, Plymouth, are a humbling reminder of nature’s power over years of human endeavor. On the southeastern coast, you can see historic windmill towers and buildings buried to their roofs in volcanic ash and mud. Boulders the size of large houses spewed out by the volcano lay miles below the summit. By contrast, the island’s north is lush and green, with verdant mountains and handsome modern houses perched on the hills.
What you cannot gauge from the sea is the extent and beauty of the northern part of Montserrat. Most of the habitations follow the road that runs from Little Bay in the north, along the west coast to Salem in the south. This area is protected from the volcano by the Center Hills mountain range, and what you see is an island of almost picture-book perfection. On one side, lush dark green mountains are steep and convoluted. On the other, the land falls away to the coast, offering a perfect panorama of the Caribbean Sea, with views of the islands of Redonda and Nevis to the west. At nearly every turn, coconut palms or brightly colored flowers provide the perfect frame for a photograph. Houses are typically modern-day Caribbean, which means they can be small, brightly painted wooden houses, shaded by dark green breadfruit trees, whitewashed bungalows, or fancy modern mansions.
The island’s tone is quiet and rural. There are hills with cows and goats, and few enough cars that you don’t feel threatened as you walk along the roads. Despite the upheaval of recent decades, the community remains resilient. Those who have stayed or returned are deeply committed to rebuilding, and there is a palpable sense of optimism. The outlook is to the future: to bring in more tourists, to bring back Montserratians who fled, and to create more jobs.
Just as the volcano in the south testifies to the power of nature, the northern end testifies to humans’ ability to adapt and thrive in the face of adversity.
