Category: Stories of St. Martin

Landscape and Memory

On the first morning of the Museums Association of the Caribbean conference, John Angus Martin gave a presentation called Exhibiting Slavery in the Caribbean Museum. It is a challenging topic that many museums have avoided in the past. His presentation sparked animated discussion amongst the attendees.

Martin focused specifically on how small museums in the Caribbean can tackle this topic. These museums tend to lack funding, resources and space to address a topic so big and important in the detail it deserves. Making space for people with diverse perspectives and different ways of processing this history is also hard.

Dry stone slave walls are legacy features that crisscross the island.

Despite the challenges, Martin had many suggestions. One key element is focusing on the people themselves. Exhibits that focus on artifacts or data tend to be cold and clinical. Stories should be personal. Humanity can be lost when exhibits focus on the magnitude of the slave trade. It is hard to tell personal stories when most names and lives were not recorded, but some records do exist.

Martin also highlighted the need to honor and memorialize. People should feel empathy and sorrow. There can be space for contemplation, and the hope of working towards a sense of closure. Featuring stories of resistance is part of this, but honoring how people survived is also important.

Martin suggested that the starting point of exhibits about slavery should be here and now. The story should be told starting from the present and working back into the past. It should highlight how this history has influenced life and culture today. The focus should be local, and the local story should not be lost by trying to tell a global history of slavery.

Slavery exhibits should be rooted in the local landscape, which often a key to telling the story. Although many of the signs of slavery on plantations are gone, the land itself remains. The places where enslaved people lived and toiled are still here. The landscape itself was transformed by their labor. Many of the plants were brought with them are still growing here, what does remain from this era was built by their hands.

Sugar mill machinery was operated by enslaved people.

What do you want an exhibit about slavery? What would you like to learn or see? Tell us by writing in to The Daily Herald or to

Plastic Problems

A Killdeer surrounded by plastic.

There’s too much plastic in the world. People have made almost 10 billion tons of plastic, and only 10% is recycled. The rest ends up in landfills, natural spaces and the sea. And there’s plenty of it on St. Martin. Some of the most beautiful places on the island are full of plastic garbage.

Plastic waste is ugly and it can cause problems for people. Mosquitos can breed in plastic containers full of rainwater. Plastic can also break down into tiny particles that are literally everywhere.

For birds, plastic is even worse. Many birds eat plastic. In the water, algae grows on plastic and make it smell like food. Birds eat it and feed it to their babies. Birds starve with stomachs full of plastic instead of food. Plastics also absorb toxic chemicals and poison birds. Sharp plastic objects can cause internal damage as well.

A Snowy Egret looks for food on a plastic bag.

Plastic can also trap birds. Old fishing gear and other plastics in the sea can trap birds. If a bird gets tangled in plastics, it can drown. This is a serious problem for the Magnificent Frigatebird that fishes and forages for food that is on the surface of the sea. Frigates don’t dive into the sea. If they do get caught and pulled into the water they can drown.

Plastic gets in the way. Plastic bags fly in the wind and plastics float across the sea. They clutter up beaches and ponds. These are places where birds hunt for food or make their nests.

A Black-necked Stilt nest beside a plastic bottle.

Plastics are a big problem on St. Martin, but there are many ways that you can help. Buy less plastic. You can connect with St. Martin traditions by using reusable bags, water bottles and food boxes like people did back in the day. You can recycle, and make sure your plastic never gets into wild spaces. Pick up plastic litter when you see it, or join a beach clean-up.

Your individual actions can help, but you can also encourage local government to make changes. Banning plastic bags and other single-use plastics can help everyone use less plastic. With laws to lead the way, people and businesses can find better alternatives for a cleaner and more beautiful St. Martin.

Do you remember the days when St. Martin was trash free? It could be that way again. To learn more about how plastics hurt birds and enjoy lots more fun activities, come to the Migratory Bird Festival from 9am-12pm on Saturday, November 9th at Amuseum Naturalis.

Precious Memories

Written by Mark Yokoyama and César Escalona

Photos are a window into our lives. They show who we are and how we lived. They are a record of heritage, history and culture.

Some histories only record the lives of rich or powerful people. But most families have photos, so photos can tell the story of almost anyone. With photos, we can all be part of history.

Photos capture cultural heritage. You can see how people dressed and the houses they lived in. They show us events and places that were important to people.

Photos reveal culture in clothing and objects.

They show traditions that built up over time that make this island unique. When families took photos at parties, events and jollifications, they were making a historical record—even if they didn’t think of it that way at the time.

These photos show us people’s expressions and what they were doing. They show us how people interacted with each other. They also show material culture. We can see what people were wearing and the objects around them.

Photos taken outdoors show us the cultural landscape. We can see architecture and nature, and how people are interacting with the island. On St. Martin we often see how much the island has changed in a very short period of time.

Photos are a window into the past. We can use them to learn what life was like. But they also show us where our traditions came from. We can see the roots of today’s culture in the photos of yesterday.

Photos are art. The photographer was expressing their vision, and their creative choices are captured in the photo. Family portraits were made with care. Each detail reflects a choice: how the people were grouped, what they wore, where the photo was taken and how they posed. The choices have symbolic meaning we can study, telling us about the family and their culture.

Even a beach day snapshot can tell us many things.

Every picture is important. Old photos and photo albums are precious family memories. But they are also important historical archives. Your photos can be a part of history. When we preserve photos, we build a richer history of the island. We make sure everyone’s story is part of the story of St. Martin.

Do you have old family photos? You can have them scanned at Amuseum Naturalis in French Quarter. You can also learn more about why photos are so important at the heritage preservation station at the Migratory Bird Festival from 9am-12pm on Saturday, November 9th at Amuseum Naturalis.


Pounding arrowroot at the Arrowroot Jollification in Colombier.

In the first National Intangible Cultural Heritage Inventory of St. Maarten, jollification has a modest entry:

A traditional gathering of people to help build a house, well, or fence and at which food is served as compensation.

To most of the world, and even most of the Caribbean, a jollification is a just a party. Parties are great and jollification is a great word for party. But the meaning of the word on St. Martin is more complex. It also tell us a lot about local culture.

On St. Martin, neighbors had to come together to help each other. Some tasks, like fixing a roof or digging a well couldn’t happen any other way. Before the modern era most labor was done by hand. People had to lift and dig and carry together.

St. Martin was a small island and it was a poor island. But the people of the island provided for themselves by combining their talents and labor. There was not just an idea of community. People truly depended on each other.

Working together also makes sense in St. Martin’s climate. Crops had to be planted in time for the wet season. A well can only be dug during the dry season. People used jollification to do things when they needed to be done.

Reaping together at Arrowroot Jollifcation.

It would not be surprising if the roots of jollification stretch back to the time of slavery. Enslaved people were forced to work long hours. They typically worked six days a week. But they were also growing their own food and taking care of their basic needs during the little time they had left. It is hard to imagine how they could have survived without helping each other.

Today, the tradition of jollification is in decline. People are busy with their jobs. There are companies that build houses and replace roofs. Most St. Martiners aren’t digging wells or reaping provision grounds. Thankfully, the tradition is kept alive by events like the Arrowroot Jollification in Columbier.

Generation New Status band at Arrowroot Jollification.

Jollification is a key part of local culture, but it also has a place in today’s society. When people come together to volunteer, the spirit of jollification lives on. Especially when there are food and drinks. After all, volunteering isn’t really a jollification unless you also have a party.

What does jollification mean to you? Tell us by writing in to The Daily Herald or

You can’t have a jollification without food


What is St. Martin culture? It is hard to put a finger on it. Local culture is the way things are said, or a proverb or a story. It is the way a food is cooked and on what occasions it is served. It is stories, crafts, games, songs, dances and much more. It can be hard to point to something and say “That is St. Martin culture.” But at the same time, it is all around us.

Over the last few years, the Sint Maarten National Commission for UNESCO has worked with the Department of Culture to write down the things that make local culture special. They created a survey and collected over 230 responses. The resulting list is the first National Intangible Cultural Heritage Inventory of St. Maarten.

Rice and peas are on the menu at Yvette’s Restaurant and part of local heritage.

The inventory is focused on five areas: oral traditions; performing arts; social practices; rituals and festive events; knowledge and practices concerning nature and the universe; and traditional craftsmanship knowledge and techniques. The list includes over 200 different entries across these categories.

The list is rich. It includes jumbie stories and and songs like Mama Make Yo’ Johnny Cakes Christmas Comin’. It includes carnival, boat racing and dominoes. Foods like locri, conkie and guava cheese are there. Skills like making coconut oil and cooking on a coal pot made the list. You can also find crafts like making a fish pot or dry stone wall.

Traditional boat building and racing are part of the inventory.

The inventory also notes which aspects of local culture are thriving or declining. Bull foot soup isn’t going to die out any time soon, but jollifications and horse races are less common than they were.

The intangible cultural heritage inventory is rich with things that make St. Martin special. There are also many things that still need to be added. The childhood game of rubbing a nickernut on a rock and then pressing the hot seed into a friend’s arm should probably be there. Also, the skill of making a noose from a blade of grass to catch a lizard.

The inventory is both a resource and an inspiration to those who have things to add to it. It is ready for your contributions. There is a copy at Amuseum Naturalis. You can also find it online at

What intangible heritage do you want to add to the inventory? Tell us by writing in to The Daily Herald or

Window on an Island

Every window presents a different view.

Look out any window and you’ll see St. Martin. At least, you’ll see part of it. You might see your neighbors working on their house, cars passing in the street or clouds rolling in. Every window presents a slightly different view of the island.

If you don’t have a good view in the right direction, you might check Google for the weather. Beneath the forecast, you may see a section titled “People also ask.” Below are a series of questions that you can click to reveal the answers:

What is there to do in Saint Martin? What is the water temperature in St Maarten? What is there to do in Saint Martin? Is St Martin safe? Which side of Saint Martin is better? Do they speak English in St Martin? Can I use my credit card in St Maarten?

It is clear that a lot of the people asking questions about St. Martin are choosing their next vacation destination. As one of the world’s largest advertising platforms, Google is happy to help them find a place to spend their money. Hopefully some of it gets spent here.

Google says its mission is “to organize the world’s information and make it universally accessible and useful.” It is a worthy goal. In practice, St. Martiners researching their heritage have a hard time. Authentic voices from and about St. Martin are buried under pages for and by outsiders looking to visit. These travel sites present a limited and often inaccurate view of the island.

This problem is not a surprise. Google is a company, not a library. The infinite potential of the internet promised a place for all voices. In practice, most voices are buried. As algorithms pick out the questions and answers for us, things may get worse. People ask Google, Siri or Alexa for answers, and they are less likely to know where those answers come from.

For the question “What is the crime rate in St Martin?” Google presents a page that generates a “crime rate” based on an internet survey that was filled out by two people. Questions about language, history and geography are answered from travel forums and hotel websites.

What can we do? We can get more St. Martin voices online and searchable. We could bring archives online and digitally republish books and articles. Amazing stuff is being shared on Facebook, and it deserves to be on the web for all to enjoy. Many great resources don’t even have a chance to be in web search results because they aren’t on the web yet.

St. Martin should also curate its own story. Anyone can edit Wikipedia, and information there makes its way all over the web. The island needs more web sites for and by St. Martiners. Libraries, museums and schools need the resources to safeguard and share the stories of St. Martin. The island needs to train its own experts for this crucial role. We can’t change Google, but we can change St. Martin.

How would you make sure St. Martin has a voice in telling its own story? Tell us by writing in to The Daily Herald or

Four Quarters

In 1772, Auguste Descoudrelles, the Commander of French St. Martin described the four quarters of the territory he was commanding. At the time, these were French Quarter, Grand Case, Colombier and Marigot. Although almost 250 years have passed, some essential traits of each quarter still remain today.

Descoudrelles describes French Quarter as the oldest community. He believes it may have originally been Quartier d’Orient, or East Quarter, with Orient over time becoming Orléans. Even in 1772, most of the people living there were born there, and many had parents who were born there. He noted two natural features. One was the large and beautiful Fish Pond, the other was Oyster Pond, a well-protected harbor divided by an imaginary line between French and Dutch. Although it had a large population and bordered the Dutch territory, it was the only quarter without a militia.

St. Martin in 1775.

At the time, the quarter of Grand Case stretched across the entire top of the island from Cul-de-Sac to Friar’s Bay. It was slow to be settled because it was so dry, but by 1772 had become the most populated. Cul-de-Sac was noted as a safe harbor for ships and the areas between Anse Marcel and Grandes Cayes were not yet developed. Today, Cul-de-Sac is still a popular place to anchor ships, and the northeast corner of the island is still the least developed area.

Colombier was known for its forests and for having the best farming land on the island. Descoudrelles claimed its forests were spared because they were difficult to access. The quarter had very little sea shore, but spread out in the interior, both in width and height.

At the time, the quarter of Marigot stretched from the Lowlands to where it met Colombier. Descoudrelles felt the land was some of the best for farming, except the the Lowlands and Sandy Ground, which were too dry. Descoudrelles built a house there and “had many good reasons to believe this quarter would become the main town.”

Over the years, many things have changed on St. Martin, but these quarters still reflect some of the character that was described so long ago. French Quarter is still home to some of the island’s longest family histories. Colombier is still lush and fertile. The geography that protected its trees has helped protect some of its traditions. How we use boats has changed, but a good harbor is still very valuable.

What is the essence of the quarter where you live? Tell us by writing in to The Daily Herald or

The threats to sweet St. Martin are many and varied. Some have causes far beyond local control, like global warming. Some problems are local, like trash and pollution. Some come by surprise, like the sudden invasion of sargassum in 2011. Some, like droughts, come in repeated cycles.

In the aftermath of Hurricane Irma, several recent droughts, the arrival of sargassum, an often burning landfill and variety of other concerns, we are very aware that St. Martin is delicate and vulnerable. It would seem that these issues have finally risen to a point of crisis. In fact, the fragility of St. Martin and its resources has been recognized for longer than one might think.

Auguste Descoudrelles.

Consider this passage written by Auguste Descoudrelles in 1772 and translated in the publication St. Martin’s Gazette:

This island in the condition it is now, has no more natural resources except fishing, which is excellent near our coasts…Pigeon hunting is still every important in season, but this resource will diminish as the colony grows bigger. Already because of the number of inhabitants, we have to clear the mountains and woods…The Dutch side has far less resources than we do. As for sea-fishing, their coasts are almost completely ruined as much because of the number of fisherman as by the lack of policy in their area and the fishing gear used.

Auguste Descoudrelles was the Commander of French St. Martin for much of the time between 1764 and 1785. His writing reveals an island already strained by its population. His statements about issues like habitat destruction, overfishing and a lack of nature-friendly policy could easily be made today.

Scaly-naped Pigeons have survived 400 years of hunting.

He writes that Grand Case “took the longest time to get established because the lands of this quarter were generally considered as the most exposed to the drought of all the island.” In his description of Colombier he remarks on “the lignum vitae wood which was once upon a time so common and now become so scarce.”

It is amazing to think that some of the problems facing St. Martin today were already so visible over 200 years ago. It is miraculous that an island that has suffered so long still has so much natural beauty to offer us. The pigeons and fishes and trees that have been threatened for so long have not yet disappeared. While reflecting on Descoudrelles’s warning from the past, we can be thankful that we still have a chance to help preserve St. Martin today.

What parts of St. Martin are in the greatest peril today? Tell us about them by writing in to The Daily Herald or


How would you describe St. Martin in a sentence? Anyone who lives here knows it is a special and unique place. It is sunny, vibrant and very Caribbean.

Yet the island is usually defined by a border. It is the island that is half French and half Dutch. This is often the first fact that people turn to when describing St. Martin. From there it is easy to continue in this direction, emphasizing the French-ness of the French side and the Dutch-ness of the Dutch side. This notion is appealing to tourists and it does start to imply the multicultural richness of the island.

But often the essence of St. Martin is ignored. In most ways, it is not much like France or the Netherlands. St. Martin has its own history, its own culture, its own plants and animals. It is not Paris with snorkeling or Amsterdam on a white sand beach. We love it because it is St. Martin, but somehow it is not as easy to describe this island’s magic without leaning on two nation trivia.

Ironically, the French themselves are better than anyone at promoting the unique essence of a place. The word terroir is used to describe the local environment where a product is produced. The word comes from the word for land, and it’s why there are so many kinds of French wine. Many kinds can only be made in tiny areas that are tightly controlled. It is a pure expression of the belief that each place is unique.

Terroir is specific to agriculture, but the broader idea can be seen all over France. Each region has its own cheeses, pastries or sausages. A town of 2,000 people is world famous for the Espelette pepper that originally came from the Caribbean. And all of these products with their unique names and stories bring more tourists to France each year than any other country in the world.

Salt was St. Martin’s original artisanal product.

Raising the profile of truly local products and culture on St. Martin would enrich the island in many ways. It would foster a sense of identity and self-worth and connect St. Martiners with their heritage. It is the essence of sustainable tourism. St. Martin is a unique terroir and it should be developed.

What are the products of St. Martin? Sadly, artisanal salt production probably can’t happen without major environmental clean-up. But we do have guavaberry rum, Beauperthuy punch and plenty of local foods. There are local fishing, farming and livestock raising traditions.

There are heritage buildings still standing featuring local designs. Local artwork and writing showcase St. Martin landscapes and language. It is not hard to imagine a St. Martin defined by what is great about St. Martin, rather than its relationship to European countries.

What fantastic things are unique to St. Martin? Tell us about them by writing in to The Daily Herald or

History and Voyage

Every early account of St. Martin reveals something unique. During the early history of the island there were few written records, so every stray detail is of interest. Often, St. Martin appears in only a few sentences in a book about wider travels in the Caribbean. The reality of the island at the time is a great sea of possibility, shaped only vaguely by a handful of written observations.

Of course, all the early writings about the island were by European men educated enough to write. Many of those people were priests. Guillaume Coppier was an exception in some ways. Although he could write, he was not wealthy. Although he was Christian, he wasn’t part of the church.

Guillaume Coppier’s History and Voyage to the West Indies.

He came to the Caribbean as an indentured servant in 1628. He lived and labored on St. Kitts, which was then shared by the English and the French. He had worked about a year and a half there before the Spanish attacked the island. While fleeing, he became stranded in St. Martin for two months. His account of this time on St. Martin was published fifteen years later, along with an account of his other travels.

His book, History and Voyage to the West Indies and to Several Other Maritime and Faraway Regions, is discussed in detail in the book Desperate in St. Martin: Notes on Guillaume Coppier by Gérard M. Hunt. Hunt describes the unique style of the text and provides and easy to read translation of most of the book.

As one might expect, Coppier did not enjoy being stranded on St. Martin, “dying of hunger and thirst; having no water but that which flowed through several minerals that made it distasteful.” For Coppier, the Caribbean was full of mosquitoes and biting flies and short on food and drinkable water.

But St. Martin was also lovely, especially “several beautiful salt marshes, located in the low land of the island.” He found St. Martin “full of tall trees different from ours” and “different sorts of birds and a good number of parakeets.” Sea turtles and their eggs were plentiful.

He also had praise for small lizards that he called anoles. He claimed that when men were sleeping on the ground, these lizards would pinch them on the ears to wake them up when snakes were nearby. He said they were “our guardians when we rested, and that we slept in peace among them.”

How much can we believe early accounts like Coppiers? We can be sure that lizards weren’t trying to protect him. We can also be sure that sea turtles were plentiful back then. We don’t have any parrot or parakeet specimens from St. Martin, but they do feature in other early writings. It may be hard to imagine a St. Martin covered in tall trees, but beautiful wetlands can still be found. His words reveal an island that is still recognizable to us today despite hundreds of years of change.

Has a lizard ever helped you? Tell us about it by writing in to The Daily Herald or

English translations of Coppier’s text in this article are taken from Desperate in St. Martin.

The Mare Mischief

“Mare Mischief took Alva on the 1st and 2nd of May, 1897”

Mischief’s love life.

Many decades had passed for the little brown notebook before the mare Mischief arrived in its pages. The early portion of the notebook was written in the early 1800s. The sexual exploits of this horse were recorded at the end of the century.

The love life of a horse may seem out of place in a book that was mostly used to record medical remedies. On the other hand, horses were valuable, and breeding them was important. Horses transported goods and people around the island. On the plantations, they pulled cane carts or loads of other crops like tobacco and cotton.

Horse records from the late 19th century.

At the Spring Plantation, where The Old House is today, records show there were 3-20 horses at a time between the late 1700s and early 1800s. There were more when the plantation was profitable and fewer during hard times.

By the late 1800s, long after the peak of sugar production, the number of horses may have been limited. They were valuable and surely it was expensive to import them. In the notebook, the purchase of Mischief was recorded: “Mare from Rose Duma called Mischief bought on the 5th April 1896 for 482 francs.” This price would be around a couple thousand dollars today.

Recording the lineage of horses may have been used to avoid interbreeding them. It could also help owners keep track of which pairs made the best offspring. Although the little brown book doesn’t record the family tree of the people writing it, it does record the family history of the horses: “Mischief colted on the 25th April 1897 — colt called Beauty”

Mischief must have been a good horse: “mare Fanny [was] bought from Hays Viotty on the 20th March for 320 francs.” Poor Fanny was only worth 2/3 the price of Mischief.

We can also see that Mischief was bred with Alva just a week after giving birth to Beauty. Mares usually go into heat about a week after giving birth. Breeding them during this “foal heat” gives the owner the chance to have a new foal each year. We don’t know the rest of Mischief’s story, but perhaps she still has family on St. Martin today.

Do you have any stories about horses on St. Martin? Share them by writing in to The Daily Herald or

Rheumatism and Change

A 19th-century notebook full of handwritten medical recipes from St. Martin is consistent for the first 25 pages. There are remedies for ills and other useful things. Everything is noted in what seems to be the same steady handwriting. But on page 26, things change.

A jagged line across the page marks the starting point of a “cure for Rheumatism.” The letters are suddenly irregular as if written by a shaking hand. Dark spots litter the page where droplets of ink had accidentally fallen.

A cure for rheumatism.

The recipe itself is similar to many that came before. Raw turpentine, castile soap and sulfur are combined and applied to the bottom of the feet. This seems to be the last entry from this author. It is tempting to wonder if the author was aging, and perhaps suffering from rheumatism or other ailments.

On the very next page, the handwriting changes in style. Remedies for jaundice are described, made from cucumbers, carrots and yellow Doodle Doo. It is impossible to say how much time may have passed between one entry and the next.

The following page begins with the words Pour Mal de Gorge, and gives a remedy for sore throat in French. The handwriting has again changed completely. From this point on, the notebook is much less orderly. Pages are skipped and entries are crossed out. The language bounces back between English and French.

The purpose of the book remains the same. Most entries record medical recipes gathered from one doctor or another. The rest record things that were useful or important. Although the authors changed over time, the notebook served its function for decades.

The notebook passed from one person to the next. With it, knowledge passed from one generation to the next. On St. Martin, this often happened orally. Wisdom and stories were passed on with the spoken word. Over time, the culture of St. Martin grew from this process. In this small notebook, we can see it and hold it in our hand. It has passed all the way to us.

Do you have any stories or remedies passed down in your family? Share them by writing in to The Daily Herald or

For a Young Woman…

In a 19th-century notebook full of handwritten medical recipes from St. Martin, there is an interesting entry on the fifth page. It describes a medical preparation “For a young woman who has not menstruated.” The recipe is as follows:

“a large hand full of Doodledoo Roots, as much of Cankerberry roots, & the same quantity of Cashia roots, put with 6 pints of water, & boiled down to three, a tumbler taken three times a day, & plenty of exercise taken. a tablespoon full of Yucca in each tumbler of drink, & sweetened if necessary.”

This medicine is different from most in the notebook. It is one of the only recipes that is entirely made of local plants. Doodledoo is a name still used for the columnar or candlestick cactus growing on St. Martin. Cankerberry can refer to a couple different plants on St. Martin, the Bahamas nightshade and the rouge plant or jumbie basil. Cashia is another name for the acacia tree.

A medical recipe from the 1800s on St. Martin.

The exact purpose of this cure is unclear. Was it used when menstruation was delayed or irregular, which was seen by some doctors as a problem at the time? Was it for a young woman who had never menstruated? Or a young woman who had stopped menstruating because she was pregnant? It isn’t clear from the text.

Most of the cures in the book are actual remedies given to people on the island. In several cases, they were named in the description of the remedy. In this case, we don’t know who the young woman is. We also don’t know her age, her background or whether she was free or enslaved.

Was this medicine used to end pregnancies? There is a long history of abortion as a form of resistance for enslaved people. By not having children, enslaved people were able to hurt slaveholders economically and keep a future generation from suffering under slavery. The enslaved women who were midwives and healers also had some of the best knowledge about plant medicine.

However, this book was not written by an enslaved person. For economic reasons, a slaveholder would not want to end the pregnancy of a person enslaved by them. Abortion was also illegal and against the rules of the church, so it wasn’t allowed for free people at the time, either.

The plants used don’t offer immediate clues, either. Cankerberry and Cashia both have plant medicine uses in the Caribbean and beyond. But there isn’t clear evidence that they were used for anything related to menstruation, particularly on or near St. Martin. Perhaps further research can reveal more about this recipe and its purpose.

Do you have any ideas about this recipe? Share it by writing in to The Daily Herald or

Suddenly, From the Sea

In most ways, 2011 was not a remarkable year on St. Martin. There were no major hurricanes. The hills weren’t parched by drought. But one amazing thing did happen, and in some ways it began a new era.

Sargassum was on nobody’s mind in 2011. That is, until it began washing ashore by the ton. It sloshed in the shallows and piled up on beaches. A rusty rainbow—yellow to orange to red to brown—inserted itself on every eastern coastline. The rotten egg smell of rotting sargassum overwhelmed the beach.

Sargassum in Coconut Grove, 2011.

At the time, everyone was surprised. Old timers were asked, and the old timers told us they had never seen this before. People wondered where it was coming from and why. Seaside businesses struggled to remove it. Would it ever stop coming?

After a few months, it did stop. But as we know today, it was only a temporary break. In less than a decade, a huge change in nature has become normal. Unlike ground sea or Christmas winds, there’s no local name for the time when sargassum comes, but perhaps some day there will be.

In the years since sargassum first invaded, we’ve learned a bit about it. It doesn’t come from the Sargasso Sea in the North Atlantic. It seems to come from the tropical Atlantic, where in the past there was almost none. It seems likely that nutrients flowing into the ocean from South American rivers are fertilizing these new sargassum blooms.

If ending the sargassum blooms means ending farming and restoring rainforest in South America, then sargassum will be with us for a while. People will have to learn to deal with it: how to remove it, what to do with it. It is a huge hassle, but perhaps someday also a resource.

A wheelbarrow at Galion Beach.

We don’t fully understand the impact of sargassum on local nature, but it does not seem good. Rotting sargassum chokes near-shore waters. It uses all the oxygen that fish and other animals depend on. It can ensnare sea turtles and cover the beaches that they need to nest on. The nutrients from sargassum may also fertilize algae that can smother corals and destroy reefs.

In less than a decade, an immense environmental change has already become normal to us. We still aren’t sure what to do about it, but we are starting to work on it. But even if we learn to clean our beaches, there may be unseen harm to the ocean life around our island that we can’t stop.

What do you think about sargassum on St. Martin? Share it by writing in to The Daily Herald or

The Moho Stone

Where the last houses give way to the slope of the central hills in French Quarter, there is a stone with many faces. It is called the Moho stone, and it was named after a nearby well. It is the most elaborate prehistoric stone carving on the island.

Stone carvings, also called as petroglyphs, are found all over the Caribbean. In some ways, they are more mysterious than other archaeological remains. Some artifacts can be dated by radiometric analysis. Radiocarbon dating can be done on wood and bone, for example. The Moho stone, on the other hand, existed long before it was carved, so there’s no way to directly measure the age of the carvings.

The Moho stone in French Quarter.

The largest features of the Moho stone are three deep holes on the top of the stone. These features are sometimes called cupules. They were made for the polishing of stone tools. They could hold sand or other grit as an abrasive for polishing stone tools.

Cupules could also hold water, which would keep the tools from overheating when they were being polished. In most cases, stones like this are found near water. Perhaps at one time a stream ran beside the Moho stone regularly. These cupules may have served other purposes as well. They may have been used as mortars for pounding or grinding roots or seeds.

Cupules made for and by polishing stone tools.

The Moho stone clearly had practical uses, but was it art? Did it have cultural or spiritual meaning to the people who carved it? The answer is almost surely yes. The three large cupules are arranged in a pattern common to many stone carvings that represents the eyes and mouth of a human face. The stone also features many additional faces and designs.

For us, the Moho stone will always be incomplete. We can understand some of its purpose, but we will probably never know the inspiration behind the carvings and what it meant to the people who made it. To us, it will always be a mystery.

Still, in the middle of the most densely populated island in the Caribbean, it is a reminder that all the roads and buildings are a very recent development. All of St. Martin history is just a short time, and people were here for long ages before that. The Moho stone is a rock of ages, and you can still stand beside it and consider its epic past.

Do you know anything about the Moho stone or the well it was named after? Share it by writing in to The Daily Herald or

Bird Stories

St. Martin wouldn’t be what it is today without birds. It emerged from the sea as a barren rock millions of years ago. Seabirds were probably the first animals to live here, raising their chicks and depositing a layer of poop that would provide nutrients for the first plants. The seeds of sea grape trees and countless other plants were brought here by birds as well.

When humans arrived, birds and their eggs were a source of food. Fishermen used birds to locate fish at sea. The behavior of the frigate bird was an indicator of bad weather before satellite forecasts. Birds were also a part of culture. St. Martiners gave them names and told stories about them.

Today, birds face many challenges on St. Martin and in the Caribbean. The wild spaces that birds depend on are small and shrinking, as islands continue to develop and build. Non-native animals like rats and mongoose are deadly to bird chicks and eggs. The region is home to over 150 kinds of bird that are found nowhere else in the world, and many of these species are rare.

Bird scientists and educators in Guadeloupe.(Photo by Ancilleno Davis)

From July 25-29th, over 250 bird scientists, conservationists and educators gathered at the BirdsCaribbean International Conference in Guadeloupe. The mission of the organization is to protect birds and their habitats. There are many ways this is done.

Scientific research helps us understand the challenges birds face. This year, a lot of research about bird survival and recovery after hurricanes was presented. For example, Hannah Madden presented a study of the Bridled Quail-dove population on Statia. Sadly, about three-quarters of these doves died during and after the hurricanes of 2017. Future research will tell us how quickly they are able to recover.

Conservationists present their work preserving or restoring wild spaces. Like on St. Martin, these success stories seem rare on most islands. But they can be inspiring. Orisha Joseph presented on the restoration of Ashton Lagoon at Union Island in the Grenadines. The project took over a decade through many obstacles, but it transformed an abandoned marina project to a vibrant wild space that could be enjoyed by wildlife and people.

Educators around the Caribbean are helping kids and people of all ages discover and fall in love with birds and nature. The conference is a place to share ideas and educational tools. Jenn Yerkes from St. Martin presented on how to use local culture, like folklore, to generate interest in nature. She also shared how to bird education can be valuable after a natural disaster like Hurricane Irma.

Jenn Yerkes presents at the BirdsCaribbean conference.

On St. Martin, it is easy to be saddened by ecological problems, like the dump and pollution. While these issues are also facing other islands throughout the region, there are some solutions and successes. The BirdsCaribbean conference is a chance to share and learn. Hopefully the result will be a new generation of Caribbean people with a deep love for nature, scientific discoveries that help us understand what birds need, and a desire to work together to preserve natural heritage all over the Caribbean.

Important Information

In a little brown notebook from the early 19th century on St. Martin, someone was recording the most important information they knew. The book is full of cures, remedies and other medical preparations. Most of these are notes on what was prescribed by local doctors. It is easy to understand why medical knowledge would be considered very important. For other information, the value is less obvious.

A mathematical calculation is sandwiched between treatments for ulcers and a leg sore. It is for the “dimensions of the cistern at the Estate Golden Rock.” Measurements in feet for the length, width and depth “to the vent holes” are converted to inches. These measures are converted into cubic inches to give the volume of the cistern: 967,680 cubic inches. The volume in cubic inches is then divided by 231 to give the number of gallons: 4,189.

The volume of a cistern is calculated.

This calculation could have been done on another piece of paper. Knowing the capacity of this particular cistern is not valuable to most people. But by recording the process of calculating the size of the Golden Rock cistern, the notebook can help anyone measure the volume of any cistern. This information could also be used to plan the size of a cistern to hold a certain amount of water.

On the other hand, this calculation doesn’t record any wisdom about how big a cistern should be. Four thousand gallons is 22 gallons a day for a six month dry spell. How many people could that support at the time?

Later in the notebook we have a page labeled “Note from Mortimer’s Commercial Dictionary.” It contains instructions for planting, raising and harvesting tobacco. The book was A New and Complete Dictionary of Trade and Commerce by Thomas Mortimer. It was written in 1766 and revised and reprinted a number of times.

Why was this particular passage copied? Did the notebook author have a chance to copy it directly from someone else’s dictionary? Was it a passage passed on from person to person? Tobacco had already been grown successfully on St. Martin for 200 years by the time this passage was written in the notebook, so why choose this information to save? Why not record information about how to grow sugar cane, the most important crop at the time?

Notes on growing tobacco, copied from a commercial dictionary.

We will probably never know why some information made it into the notebook. Perhaps some things that seem useful to record were so widely-known at the time that it didn’t seem necessary. Perhaps it was just chance that the writer had access to one bit of knowledge and not another. Do you have a theory? Share it by writing in to The Daily Herald or

Local Plant Cures

In a notebook of medical treatments used on St. Martin in the early 1800s, there are quite a few recipes made from ingredients purchased abroad. Many of those compounds are things we know are poisonous. Others were plant-based ingredients from around the world that were brought in to the western medicine of the time.

But the notebook also includes some remedies based on local plants. The source of these cures is not revealed, but plant medicine traditions in the Caribbean are rich. They come from African and Amerindian cultures, which have roots going back thousands of years.

“A cure for the most obstinate ulcer” is one of these plant cures: “Yellow prickle wood water must be used as a bath for the sore after which you take the bark of the yellow prickle wood pounded & sifted fine & the sore sprinkled with it then apply over it a poultice of bread.”

A cure for the most obstinate ulcer.

Cures made from locally-available ingredients would have big advantages over those that require imported chemicals. Imported goods were expensive and took a long time to arrive. It is not surprising to see local plants used in some cures.

Four o’clock blossoms and some young leaves are used in a poultice. For dropsy, a cure includes several plants: bitter root stinking weed, black dog root and white candle wood root. A tea to break a fever was made from stinging windroots and black dog root.

Although many cures in the notebook are attributed to Dr. Allaway, these plant cures were not. It seems Allaway preferred his mercury and lead concoctions. A cure for stoppage of urine from Dr. Griffin of St. Kitts was made from plants: chicken weed root and white nicker root. The transfer of knowledge from black Caribbean people to white doctors was surely different from island to island and doctor to doctor.

By the time this notebook was written, the population of St. Martin was mostly people of African descent, both free and enslaved. These people had brought a rich tradition of plant medicine, and even many of the plants themselves. The most skilled doctor on the island was probably one of these people, although we don’t know their name or have a record of their work. They may have used dozens or even hundreds of local plants. Although their cures are not recorded in their book, some of them survived to this day via oral traditions.

Were plant cures passed down in your family? Share them by writing in to The Daily Herald or

Bad Medicines

If you lived in St. Martin in the 1800s, hopefully you didn’t get sick very often. For that matter, if you lived in many places in the 1800s, the odds of getting good medical treatment were pretty slim. A visit to the doctor could easily leave you worse off than you were.

In a little brown notebook full of 19th century medical cures used on St. Martin, we encounter a number of medicinal substances used at the time. Many of them are recorded in a list of medicines ordered from New York by Lucas Percival.

One of the first medicines on the list is corrosive sublimate. If you think it sounds bad, you are right. It is a white, crystalline substance made of mercury and chlorine. Mercury itself is very toxic, but this particular preparation is also corrosive. It burned the mouth, throat, stomach and intestines. In large doses it caused kidney failure and death. It was such a dangerous poison it was used to murder people.

A deadly shopping list.

Also on the list was calomel. Calomel is also made of mercury and chloride. Thankfully, it wouldn’t burn you. But it would still give you mercury poisoning. It was used to make people vomit or evacuate their bowels, and it worked because it was poison.

Sugar of lead was on the shopping list, too. Lead acetate is sweet, and was used as a sweetener and a medicine. But we don’t use it today because lead is toxic. Also on the list was tartar emetic, which contains antimony. Its effects are similar to arsenic poisoning.

By comparison, other items on the list were not nearly so bad. Flowers of sulphur act as a fungicide and may have some uses. Opium can be abused, but we still use its active ingredient—morphine—as a pain reliever. Snake oil has become a term for fake medicine, but at least it didn’t do anything, which is better than can be said for corrosive sublimate.

Rounding out the shopping list were a variety of plants and plant preparations: rhubarb, chamomile, camphor, sassafras, sarsaparilla, jalap, lavender and more. It is hard to say if they were used effectively, but most of these plants have some medicinal properties. Better still, they aren’t deadly poisons.

Although medical science wasn’t much of a science back then, western doctors had adopted some plant cures. Most of these came from other parts of the world with more developed plant medicine traditions. Some of the medicinal recipes in this book also combine purchased medicines with local plants. Perhaps European doctors on St. Martin were learning plant medicine from St. Martiners of African descent. And hopefully using that knowledge to provide better care.

Do you know any local remedies? Share them by writing in to The Daily Herald or

Salt Blowing

You don’t need a lot to make salt. It takes seawater, a shallow pond and sunlight to evaporate the water. It takes a few months that are dry enough for evaporation to outpace whatever rain is falling.

When salt was an industry on St. Martin, other things were added to basics of salt making. People controlled the timing and amount of seawater flowing into ponds. Canals were built to keep rainwater out of drying salt pans. Levees were built to section salt ponds.

A dusting of white salt surrounds the last water of Chevrise pond.

The management of salt ponds increased yields. It also kept unseasonal rains from ruining a harvest. Levees in salt ponds allowed easier access to the salt pans. All of these things were critical to the industry of salt production, but the basic conditions that produce salt were here naturally.

The Amerindians who lived on St. Martin named it Soualiga, or “land of salt” in the Arawak language. They were harvesting salt on the island long before the first Europeans arrived. But as far as we know, they were simply taking advantage of the salt production happening naturally.

Although much has changed on St. Martin, some ponds still produce salt under the right conditions. This dry year has been perfect. While ponds connected to the sea have remained full, several are dry or nearly so. Chevrise and the airport pond of Grand Case are two of them.

Salt crystals in Grand Case.

On Chevrise, there is just a tiny bit of water left. The pond bed around it is dusted in a white coating of salt. Beyond that white area is cracked brown dirt. This mud dried before the salt was concentrated enough to crystalize.

In Grand Case, the area of the pond near the airport road has quite a bit of salt. Some areas are pretty dry, with large crystals in a crust on damp mud. In other parts, salt crystals and the last of the pond’s water make a salty slush. The crystals glint in the late afternoon sunlight.

Salt slush in the airport pond at Grand Case.

Less than 100 years ago, thousands of tons of salt were being produced in Grand Case each year. It is within the living memory of some on the island, but it feels like another world to most. St. Martin has been made and remade since then.

Somehow, amidst a million modern crises and concerns, the salt itself has returned. It has returned of its own accord. It sparkles in the sun as if to remind us that no matter what we do, no matter what we change or destroy, St. Martin is still a land of salt.

Do you have memories or pictures of salt on St. Martin? Share them by writing in to The Daily Herald or

Salt forms around a stone in Grand Case.

Cure for the Locked Jaw

Lockjaw is a terrifying disease with a terrifying name. Also known as tetanus, it is caused by a toxin that is made by a bacteria. It causes a variety of symptoms, including muscle spasms that can be strong enough to break bones. It can kill, and in the past it killed a lot.

Tetanus was common in tropical areas like the Caribbean. Perhaps the warmth helped tetanus bacteria stay viable when lying dormant in tropical soils. Or maybe people just had more contact with the dirt, working barefoot. Review of historical records from Brazil found that tetanus rates were higher for enslaved persons. This was likely to be true on St. Martin as well. Enslaved persons were doing dangerous jobs and in constant contact with soil.

In a little brown notebook Pierre Beauperthuy’s collection at The Old House, a cure for tetanus is described: “Make the wild tobacco in a strong bath, take out a little of it to make injections, which must be given frequently.” This herbal treatment was combined with some of the popular medicines of the day: “Give the child two grains of calomel immediately, with a grain of antimonial powder.”

A 19th century cure for tetanus.

This cure reflects another terror of tetanus: it was often a killer of infants. In the 19th century, when this cure was likely written, we did not yet understand germs. There was no vaccine for tetanus, and the umbilical cord was often a site of infection. Today, tetanus in infants is much less common. Most mothers are vaccinated, which gives immunity to newborns.

The handwritten cure for tetanus continues with a variety of other measures. Oil is taken to evacuate the bowels. Camphor, opium and candle grease are mixed together and spread along the spine, from the throat to the temples, and around the wrists. The bath and injections are repeated five or six times a day. “Remember to keep the child sitting in the bath until it appears sick at its stomach, but great care taken that it does not take cold.”

Would any of this have worked? Probably not. Even today there is no cure for tetanus. The toxin created by the tetanus bacteria is one of the deadliest and most powerful toxins in the world. Both then and now, working to ease the symptoms during months of recovery is a big part of treatment. Luckily, today we are much less likely to get tetanus in the first place, as long as we are up to date with our vaccinations.

Have you heard stories of diseases or conditions that were once more common on St. Martin? Tell us by writing in to The Daily Herald or

Analysis of Soils

The method for analyzing soil.

During St. Martin’s agricultural past, people had to understand the land. Much farming knowledge in the Caribbean was passed down from African and Amerindian traditions. These two cultures had experience with tropical crops, and their methods are still used today.

In a little brown notebook Pierre Beauperthuy’s collection at The Old House we find another approach to understanding the land. It is a description of a process of analyzing soil. The method is simple, and could be performed by anyone with just a few items on hand:

The following is a method of analysing soils for ordinary agricultural purposes: Weigh a convenient quantity of earth to be analysed say one thousand grains dried in the open air; dry the same before a fire on paper, so as not to scorch the paper; re-weigh and the difference will be the moisture. Roast the residue, re-weigh, and the difference will be the organic matter. Pour a convenient quantity of muriatic acid on the remainder; when stirred and settled pour it off, and add oxalate of ammonia, the precipitate will be the lime. Mix the remainder with water and stir it well, when a little settled, pour off the turbid mixture and the suspended contents are argillaceous and the deposit siliceous.

By this process, the user can find out the relative amounts of moisture, organic matter, lime, clay and silica in the in a soil sample. These traits can help understand the richness, acidity and drainage of soils. In turn, these factors can help determine which crops may grow best, or how valuable the land is for farming.

While the process for analyzing soil is given in detail, there are no notes about what the results mean. Were St. Martiners making farming decisions based on soil analysis in the 19th century? At the very least, we know they had at least some of the skills to do so.

In the early 1950s, soil analysis was done here using more modern methods. As one could have done with the method in the notebook, organic matter and calcium carbonate were measured. Many other attributes were measured as well, like pH and the levels of nitrogen and phosphate. A report was published in 1955 about soils of St. Martin and the geology beneath them.

A field in the Lowlands prepared for planting in the mid-20th century.

Soil studies in the 1800s may have decided which crop enslaved people were forced to cultivate: cotton, sugarcane or tobacco. The 1955 report told how well crops for the dinner plate and grass for livestock were growing in local soils. We could do better soil analysis today, but the need seems less urgent. Frequent droughts and crop-eating invasive animals like monkeys and iguanas are bigger farming challenges than soil quality. Sadly, our most dire need may be to find out how much we have poisoned and polluted St. Martin’s soils.

What is the soil like in your area? What grows best there? Tell us by writing in to The Daily Herald or

For Improving Rum

Instructions for improving rum.

The little brown book from Pierre Beauperthuy’s collection at The Old House is full of old knowledge. It contains recipes for medicines and techniques for making glue. It was carefully written. The pages were numbered. It contained very important things that had to be remembered. Like how to make rum better.

There are some clues to suggest that this book dates from the early 1800s. This is a time when sugarcane was grown on St. Martin and rum was made from it. The sugarcane industry was not very successful here and it didn’t last very long. But during this brief window, knowing how to improve rum was surely useful.

The little brown book.

The first method starts with Balsam of Peru. The instructions call for adding 35 grains—about a third of a teaspoon—for every five gallons of rum. Balsam of Peru is a resin made from the sap of a tree that grows in Central and South America. It was used as a flavoring, a fragrance and a medicine. Many people have an allergic reaction to it, so it is not widely used today.

The Balsam of Peru was added after being dissolved or pulverized, and left in the rum for eight days. The next step was to construct a filter with a hoop, a flannel bag and charcoal. Impurities are removed by passing the rum through the charcoal. This is a process that is still done today to many spirits. The instructions specify that the charcoal should be made from White Oak.

Directly below these instructions, a second process is recorded under the simple heading “Another.” This method starts with 30 Tonka Beans, well-pulverized. Tonka Beans com from another South American tree, and they were also used as both a flavoring and a fragrance. The bean powder is to be added to a demijohn of rum taken from a puncheon cask and left in the sun for a day before being shaken and dumped back in the cask. A puncheon is a size of cask, about 85 gallons.

The next step is to take some gunpowder tea and a half stick of finely chipped licorice and steep them in boiling water, closed for “24 hours or even a day.” This is then strained into the cask as well. The final touch is some burnt sugar to add color to the rum. Although the burnt sugar—or caramel— tastes bitter, only a tiny bit is used to color rum and it is still used today.

An old rum bottle.

Could we try using these instructions to re-create the flavor of rum that was made in St. Martin 200 years ago? Perhaps, but maybe we don’t need to. Many of these steps are still used in rum making today. Do you have a secret for improving rum? Tell us by writing in to The Daily Herald or

For Mending Coppers

A recipe for curd cement.

A little brown book from Pierre Beauperthuy’s collection at The Old House is full of handwritten recipes for cures. Various entries indicate it is from St. Martin in the 1800s, although we don’t yet know exactly when it is from, or who wrote it. Entries in different handwritings, using both English and French, show that it may have been used for quite a while.

Many of the pages contain recipes for medicines. Between those, the book also has other useful information. There are instructions about how to make essential oil from flowers, and how to test soil. Each page is a reminder of a time when this knowledge was precious. It was a time when people needed a huge variety of skills were needed to survive.

Boiling coppers from sugarcane days are still seen on St. Martin.

One recipe is titled: “For mending coppers or any other broken vessel.” In the Caribbean, a copper or boiling copper is the giant round vat where sugarcane juice is boiled down. They were also heavy and surely very expensive. They were a key part of sugar processing. After the decline of sugarcane, they were often still used to hold water. On Tintamarre they were placed around a well as troughs for livestock to drink from.

Boiling coppers around a well on Tintamarre, reused as animal troughs.

The recipe for mending giant metal cauldrons seems a bit odd at first. It requires boiling half a pint of milk, adding a bit of vinegar to make the milk curdle and then adding a well beaten egg-white. Next, one must sprinkle in a little “very fine boiling lime” and “take care not to let it be too dry when employed to mend anything and it will last very long.”

Though it may seem strange, this basic recipe appears in books as curd cement. It is claimed to be waterproof and long-lasting, but does not seem to be something that would stand up to high heat. Perhaps by the time this recipe was recorded, the coppers were already being reused for things other than boiling cane juice.

It’s hard to say what seems more strange today: a recipe for superglue made mostly from food items, or the idea of mending a vessel at all. But back when this was written, the recipe for a glue was as valuable as the recipe for a medicine. In fact, the very next item in the book is a recipe for “another cement” based on isinglass, a kind of gelatin made from fish swim bladders!

Can you remember a bit of local wisdom passed down from elder generations? Tell us by writing in to The Daily Herald or

A Book of Cures

The little brown notebook is warped with water damage. It’s small enough to fit into a coat pocket and about 100 pages thick. Inside is local medical knowledge from a long time ago. It is all carefully written in script that is mostly still legible today.

A few 19th century cures and a list of medical ingredients ordered from New York.

On the inside front cover is a quick primer on the apothecaries’ system of measurement: 20 grains in a scruple, three scruples in a dram, eight drams in an ounce. This is handy because most of the recipes for cures are given in grains.

The one of the first medicines in the book is “for a swelling from cold.” It contains 30 grains of calomel, a chemical containing mercury, and 40 grains of jalap, a medicine made from the powdered root of a type of morning glory vine. Both were fairly popular drugs in the 19th century, and neither are in common use today. These drugs were to be “made in 24 pills for a person 14 to 16 years, three pills given every morning.”

Many of the medicines noted in the book are oddly specific, like a dosage specifically for people 14-16 years old. In fact, the very next cure is for “the dry belly ache such as the woman Judy had.” Many of the early cures are attributed to a Dr. Allaway. Many combine chemicals with plant remedies.

What is this odd book? Who wrote it? When is it from? The book contains a list of medicines sent to Mr. Lucas Percival, who lived on St. Martin from 1809 to 1877. This would date it to perhaps the mid-1800s on St. Martin. Later in the book, though, the handwriting changes and the language switches from English to French. Perhaps it is the work of multiple people recording cures over a longer period of time.

The cures themselves are mostly not things one would recommend today. Many include things we now known are poisons, like mercury and lead. But it is a unique window into life on the island in the past. This little book tells us what ills bedeviled residents at that time. And it tells us that doctors had little to offer that would help. Back then medicines were mixed at home from ingredients ordered from New York, and it was wise to write down medical recipes in case a doctor wasn’t around for the next obstinate fever or case of jaundice.

Every single page of this book may have something unique to tell us about the history of St. Martin and how life was lived here. We will continue to explore its pages. Have you ever seen a book like this? Tell us by writing in to The Daily Herald or

Beyond a Drought

It’s not your imagination, St. Martin is very dry right now.

Why is it so dry right now on St. Martin? The answer is pretty pretty complex, and a bit scary, too.

For starters, spring is the dry season. This time of year, the island is usually as dry as it gets. That’s why people go camping on Easter and why you should never schedule an outdoor event in November. Usually, November is the wettest month and things get drier until April. Starting in May, rain gradually increases through the fall.

But it also seems drier than usual, and it is. St. Martin was rated “severely dry” for the first part of 2019 and the forecast for the coming months is drier than usual. It isn’t necessarily unusual to have a dry year, this often comes in phases with bigger weather cycles like El Niño and La Niña.

Today’s dry weather isn’t just about rainfall. Higher temperatures are also making a difference. Higher temperatures increase evaporation, from the ground and from plants. Many plants adapted to the local climate lose their leaves to conserve water in dry times. Plants less suited to the climate may just die. Either way, St. Martin looks quite brown and barren.

Dry pond bed exposed at Chevrise Pond.

There are reasons to believe that things are getting drier around here. New studies found that the Caribbean drought of 2013-2016 was the worst on record. Climate models also predict less rainfall in the northeast Caribbean in the future.

Things could be worse. Although they are still used, the island no longer depends on cisterns and wells for water. Agriculture is also a tiny part of the economy now. This is in part because so many livestock died in the droughts of 1974-77 and 1986-87. With a tourism economy and a desalination plant, drought may be an eyesore and a fire risk, but it isn’t a threat to survival.

At least, not completely. For wildlife and native vegetation, a shift to a drier climate may become deadly. Especially when wild spaces are already pushed to the limit. A dry future may also spell doom for cultural traditions connected to plants and livestock.

Do you remember a drought from back in the day and how St. Martiners dealt with it? Tell us by writing in to The Daily Herald or to

Rice and Peas

The combination of rice and peas or beans is loved all over the Caribbean and has many variations. What are the roots of rice and peas on St. Martin, and why is this dish so popular?

In St. Martin and the rest of the Eastern Caribbean, the Pigeon Pea (Cajanus cajan) is typically used in this dish. It was brought to the Caribbean from Africa, and grows well in our climate. It can survive the dry season and produces lots of food with little care. They are still grown in backyards all over the island.

Rice also has a long history in the Caribbean. African Rice (Oryza glaberrima) was domesticated in Africa and was brought to the Caribbean by enslaved Africans. But it was not widely grown on St. Martin or nearby small islands. Here, available land and labor were focused on sugarcane, and rice was imported from Africa. Rice was one of few dry provisions able to survive the trip across the Atlantic.

Rice and peas from Yvette’s Restaurant in French Quarter.

During the 20th century, rice consumption in the region tripled. Perhaps this is because fewer people grew traditional ground provisions like cassava and sweet potatoes. Immigration to St. Martin brought new recipes featuring red beans, black beans and black eyed peas. Yet on this multicultural island, rice and peas is a traditional recipe that still satisfies.

What’s your recipe for rice and peas? What other dishes are most important to the culinary cultural heritage of St. Martin? Tell us by writing in to The Daily Herald or to


Nature on St. Martin is precious. It’s precious because it’s unique. It’s precious because it lives on through drought and hurricane. It’s precious because it protects us from floods and landslides. It’s precious because it is the natural heritage of everyone on the island. It’s precious because there isn’t so much of it left. It’s precious because it still holds treasures yet to be discovered.

Nothing represents this better than the animals that live only on St. Martin. These species are true St. Martiners, and true survivors. They arrived on the island by chance in the distant past, and they made this island their home.

This lizard’s ancestors crossed a sea.

Each one of these species has a different story, and all of them are lost to time. The ancestors of our Bearded Anole likely arrived on St. Martin before modern humans even existed. Perhaps they held tightly to the limbs of a giant tree that was torn from the ground and washed to sea by a hurricane. They were storm survivors.

Carried by the currents, they crossed the sea, from their home island to ours. They were lucky enough to arrive on St. Martin before dying of hunger or thirst. They were seafaring survivors.

Suddenly, they were in a new place. The landscape was not the same as their old home. The forest was not the same. The insects they eat were not the same. The lizards they compete with for food were not the same. The birds that eat them were not the same. Most of these things were similar, but the Bearded Anole ancestors had spent millions of years becoming perfect for their old home. Here, everything was different.

Like other local species, the Bearded Anole had to adapt to survive dry times.

What’s a lizard to do in a situation like this? Adapt. Or perish. The ancestors of the Bearded Anole adapted and they survived. They transformed into something new. They become something unique in all the world. They perfected themselves for this place. They were St. Martin survivors.

The story of these amazing animals should be known. Because they are amazing. Because they should be protected. Because they are a metaphor for everyone and everything that has adapted to St. Martin rather than trying to change St. Martin. Because they are unique in all the world and they are St. Martin’s.

Today this lizard must adapt itself to the ways humans are changing the island.

You can discover the Bearded Anole and other animals found only on St. Martin at the Endemic Animal Festival. The free festival is Sunday, April 28th from 9am-noon at Amuseum Naturalis at The Old House on the hill above Galion beach in French Quarter. There will be fun activities and fascinating exhibits about these special animals and much more. For more information visit or find Les Fruits de Mer on Facebook.

Caribbean Cool

Traditional Caribbean houses were designed to stay cool in the tropical heat. There was no air conditioning, so builders used wind, shade and stone to make houses cool. The location of a home, the direction it faced and what was built around it could all make a difference. There were also many design elements that kept houses cool and you can see them right here.

A thick foundation can absorb heat and cool the home.

The Old House was built with a massive stone foundation, this keeps the floor dry and protected in storms or floods. It also keeps the house cool. The foundation acts as a thermal mass, absorbing the heat from the house.

High ceilings give hot air space to rise, leaving it cooler below. Openings between rooms allow air to flow all around the house in any direction. The kitchen was not part of the house, so the heat from cooking fires was not near the living space.

High ceilings and openings between rooms help hot air escape.

The Old House is designed with windows and doors across from each other, so wind can blow through the house. This design can have ten times the air flow compared to a window on only one side. The windows are at human height so people can enjoy the cooling breeze.

Windows were made with louvers—slats of wood that can be tilted. These allowed air to pass, while still providing shade. Residents could change the angle of the louvers to direct the incoming breeze where they wanted it.

Louvers let wind pass through while providing shade.

Many of these heat beating strategies were developed over time, right here in the Caribbean. Today we see these features as part of the unique style of Caribbean architecture. But many of these design decisions were made for very specific reasons.

Over time, we have developed new building materials and techniques. We also have electric fans and air conditioning. But relearning some old school Caribbean design tricks can still help us today. Modern designers are looking at how we can use these methods to keep homes comfy while using less energy. Perhaps the Caribbean home of the future will start to look a bit like the homes of the past.

What parts of your home design help keep it cool? Tell us by writing in to The Daily Herald or to

5,000 Years of Eco

Glass bottles were often reused, this demijohn was protected by wicker basketwork.

The idea of being eco-friendly is spreading on St. Martin. We can see images from around the world of birds, sea turtles, and even whales that died after eating plastics. We find litter on our own beaches, and the eternal fire of the Philipsburg dump is a constant reminder that we are making more waste than we can handle.

Progress seems slow at times. Recycling on a small island is a little harder, because those materials usually have to go somewhere else to be recycled. It also takes time to build awareness. Promotion of recycling and other eco practices took decades to become established in Europe and North America.

On the other hand, St. Martin has a deep history of reusing and recycling. In fact, it stretches all the way back to prehistory. Visit an archaeological site and you can see the evidence. Conch shells were made into a variety of tools: axes, scrapers, awls and more. This may be first example of reusing a “single-use food container” on St. Martin.

A conch shell tool made by Amerindians on St. Martin.

During the colonial era, St. Martin was a remote outpost. Goods arrived slowly by boat and nothing went to waste. Metalwork was done by hand-powered forge so St. Martiners could make their own nails and horseshoes. Old or broken items could be melted down to make new things.

A forge blower for backyard metalworking.

In the early 20th century, there were few jobs on the island. Some St. Martiners living today remember wearing dresses made from cloth flour sacks. In an interview, Delphine David explained that her mother “used to take the flour bag, wash it good, put it in the sun and let the sun draw out the marks…she would take that bag and measure us and crochet right around, tie our waist with a string and that would be our outfit.”

There was recycling in the kitchen, with graters made by hammering holes in a tin can. On the docks even today you can see fish scalers made from bottle caps nailed into a wooden handle. Perhaps the most elegant examples of Caribbean recycling is the steel pan drum. It transforms waste into art.

A new handle extends the life of this rake.

Waste on St. Martin is a modern problem, and will require many solutions. We need to generate less trash and adopt alternatives to plastic. We need to process our waste better. In some ways these are new skills and habits. Some of the ideas and expertise may come from outside. But when it comes to reusing and recycling, there are deep traditions on St. Martin that we can tap into. This creativity and ingenuity is a part of local culture we can all celebrate and embrace.

What is your favorite historical or recent example of reusing or recycling on St. Martin? Tell us by writing in to The Daily Herald or to

Metal hinges often outlasted wooden shutters and were reused.
This old hinge, along with a wire, was used to ground an electrical line.