The guavaberry is an easy fruit to love. It is sweet and tangy and the tree itself is beautiful. It is native to St. Martin and other parts of the Caribbean, a natural part of the landscape.

The tree grows wild here, but it is also raised for its beauty, its wood, and especially its fruit. Guavaberry is made into tarts and jams, and it is used to flavor rum. It is one of the essential flavors of St. Martin.

Although it is found on many islands, only a few places use it so much. St. Martin perhaps most of all, and also the Virgin Islands. The fact that it is popular in the northeast Caribbean is a reminder of the cultural connections between these islands.

Guavaberry is also popular in the San Pedro de Macorís area of the Dominican Republic. In the early 20th century, St. Martiners and people from nearby islands came to this area to work in agriculture. At the time, the St. Martin economy was struggling. The guavaberry traditions brought with these economic migrants are still alive there today.

Here, the guavaberry is a key part of deep cultural traditions. It is strongly connected to the Christmas season. Some would say that Christmas time is the one true time to enjoy guavaberry in all its forms. Perhaps the most traditional Chrismas song on the island is the guavaberry song, with its lyric “Good morning, good morning, I come for me guavaberry.”

Christmas is celebrated in countless places, but it has some special meaning in St. Martin. It comes at the end of the rainiest season when many crops are ready to harvest. It comes after the hurricane season, when everyone can breathe a sigh of relief. Guavaberry rum is the perfect drink for this moment of sweetness, celebration, release and friendship.

The Guavaberry Festival in Colombier brings all of these ideas and feelings together. It is a celebration of the fruit and of the season. It is a chance to get a tree or some seeds and take part in the tradition of cultivation. The joyous music is a living celebration of this wonderful tree.

What is your favorite way to enjoy guavaberry? Tell us by writing in to The Daily Herald or [email protected].

While scanning selections from Barbara Cannegieter’s enormous collection of postcards, it was interesting to see how they changed through the years. Postcards are made to represent a place, or the ideal of a place. But places change, especially St. Martin.

Very early postcards, from the late 19th and early 20th centuries mostly document “important” things. Marigot and Philipsburg are there because they are the capitals. Front Street is featured because it is Front Street. St. Martin was a faraway place back then, more remote than anyone today could probably imagine. A postcard may have been a way of proving that it existed at all.

Over time, postcard images became more diverse. Many highlighted the natural beauty of green hills and unspoiled beaches. Scenes of Caribbean life were also popular: fishermen with their catch and produce for sale at Marigot market. The unique architecture of the island along Rue de la République and other streets is often on display.

Eventually, St. Martin as a tourist destination became the subject of many postcards. Hotels and resorts were on postcards, from the extravagant fake Mediterranean village of La Belle Creole to a variety of boxy and inelegant hotel buildings. Tourists appear in postcards, doing duty free shopping and water sports.

Postcards reflect different views of the island. They were made to appeal to buyers, so they reflect what those buyers loved about St. Martin. At least, the ones that sold. They also helped create the image of St. Martin. These very specific images were how St. Martin was shared around the world.

How we see these images today can also tell us a lot. For St. Martiners, and others who love the island, postcards are powerful. Familiar views of towns bring a rush of nostalgia. People recognize the faces of fishermen and shopkeepers. Images of unspoiled landscapes often bring a sense of loss.

The St. Martin of all these old postcards is gone. Or at least, it has changed to the St. Martin of today. Simpson Bay will never be unbuilt, but we could protect the last few wild views. Some of the classic Caribbean houses of Grand Case, Marigot and French Quarter may be crumbling, but many could still be returned to glory. St. Martin may not have any fishing villages today, but it still has people who fish.

In every postcard, there is an element of St. Martin that is still here, whether it is a place, a tradition or a feeling. Perhaps it is hidden, perhaps it is in disrepair, perhaps it is hanging by a thread. But it is not too late to save a little bit of what we love from the past.

What do you miss from St. Martin’s past? What needs to be saved today? Tell us about it by writing in to The Daily Herald or to [email protected].

See more old postcards and photos at the St. Martin Image Collection.

Photos may be the most direct link we have to the past of the island. Photos capture people, places and things from the past. They capture culture and family history. They show us nature and the landscapes of the past. We can see what people were doing and the expressions on their faces.

Photos are also important because they contain stories that were never written down. Where written history features a handful of people, we have photos of many people. By preserving, sharing and studying these photos, we can build a more complete history.

Many people are already working on this project, perhaps without thinking of it in this way. There are people sharing photos on social media, and others commenting. Every time someone uploads a photo or identifies a person or a place or a year in a comment, our knowledge of the past increases.

Even the simple act of saving family photos, postcards and other materials is part of this process. Without these collections, there would be nothing to study or share. St. Martin is a land of 1,000 archivists who have protected these precious memories through the years.

A physical photo album has some limitations. It isn’t accessible to everyone. It could also be destroyed in a storm or thrown away by someone who doesn’t value it. Making images digital and sharing them brings them into the public sphere. It also ensures that at least some version of the image remains even if the original is lost.

Social sharing is a great way to help people connect to photos and share insights, but it also has limitations. Often photos are shared in low quality. This can be okay on a computer or phone screen, but some details may be lost. Also, social media is not very good for organizing photos. Many people may see and comment on a photo when it is posted, but it can be hard to find it again.

St. Martin may not have the resources to create a state of the art archive like those at the Library of Congress or New York Public Library. But it is possible to make a simple site where photos can be shared and information about them can be collected. You can find the beginnings of this site at http://image.amuseumnaturalis.com.

Right now, the St. Martin image collection includes photos and postcards from several generous people who offered to share what they have preserved. Others are welcome to contribute images or information about what is in the photos. Over time this can grow to a rich archive of images and stories that is accessible to all.

Do you want to learn how to find the stories in your family photos? There will be a free workshop on Saturday, December 7th at Amuseum Naturalis. You will learn how to find the story in a family photo you bring. You will also get a scan of your photo that you can share with family for the holidays. To sign up, email [email protected].

At the Museums Association of the Caribbean conference in Martinique last week, Hannah K Scruggs, Kamilah Stinnett and Doretha Williams from The National Museum of African American History and Culture gave a presentation titled Genealogy in Museums: Finding Family while Exploring Cultural Heritage. Their museum has a Family History Center that hundreds of people visit each day. They offer six sessions each day where people can come in and get help researching their own family tree.

Genealogy, the study of family history, is a way for people to understand where they come from. It is also a way to find one’s place in history and in a community. It connects people to their own family, but also to the world.

Usually, the starting place for making a family tree is asking other family members, especially older ones. Scrapbooks and memorabilia can also give key details. More and more, records are being digitized and may be searchable online. Public records, newspapers and archives are all important resources.

For anyone with ancestors who were enslaved, it can be hard or even impossible to trace family roots through this period. Not being able to trace family history is a part of the trauma of enslavement that still hurts people today. But many people find it rewarding to discover the family history that is available.

At the Family History Center, visitors can have access to databases and help learning how to research. On St. Martin, it would be very good to have a similar center. By helping individual people learn about their own history, we could enrich what we know about the history of the island as well.

On St. Martin, family research would surely reveal many connections between local families. It would also show how people from St. Martin are connected to relatives on Anguilla, St. Kitts and beyond. In these connections, we can find stories of survival and cultural connections. A handful of people researching their own family histories would enrich the lives of everyone interested in St. Martin.

A family history is like a map for the past. Combined with photos and documents that can be scanned at the heritage preservation station at Amuseum Naturalis, we can make that past come alive. The history of the island can be transformed to include the history of everyone on the island. This inclusive history has its roots in the family tree.

Are you interested in researching your family tree? Have you already started? Tell us about it by writing in to The Daily Herald or to [email protected].

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.

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.

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 [email protected].

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 http://www.unesco.sx.

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

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 [email protected].

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.

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 [email protected].

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.

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.

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 [email protected].

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.

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 [email protected].

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.

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 [email protected].

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

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

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.

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 [email protected].

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.

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 [email protected].

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.

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 [email protected].

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.

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.

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 [email protected].

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 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.

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 [email protected].

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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 [email protected].

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.”

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 [email protected].

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.

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 [email protected].

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.

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.

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.

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 [email protected].

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.”

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 [email protected].