Admiralty Bay fills with masts long before the ship casts anchor: schooners, catamarans and sailing vessels from around the world stop at Bequia, the first of the Grenadines south of Saint Vincent. The island measures barely 18 square kilometres, but its reputation circulates in every sailor's square of the Atlantic. Passengers reach by shuttle the quay of Port Elizabeth, a village that holds to a single street curved around the bay, between fruit stalls and artisan workshops.

Port Elizabeth: A Sailor's Village

Here, everything speaks of the sea. Bequia lived from boat-building, fishing and coastal trading long before it welcomed holiday-makers. At Sargeant Brothers, steps from the landing, craftsmen have shaped for decades models of sailing vessels of astonishing precision, hulls hollowed from local wood and rigging tied thread by thread; replicas of celebrated yachts leave for the world over. Around the fruit market, vendors pile papayas and soursops in pyramids, and the singing accent of English creole accompanies every transaction.

The Belmont Walkway: A Walk With Feet Barely Dry

Southward, a paved path leaves the village and follows the bay at water level: the Belmont Walkway. At high tide, a few sea sprays wet the ankles, and that is half the pleasure. Fish restaurants, juice bars and small inns succeed one another facing the anchored sailing vessels. The path continues as a coastal track that crosses a rocky point before descending again to Princess Margaret Beach, named for the sister of Queen Elizabeth II who swam there in 1958. Allow about twenty minutes on foot from the dock, or five minutes by water taxi.

Princess Margaret and Lower Bay

This cove rimmed with almond and sea grape trees keeps limpid and generally peaceful water, perfect for swimming and snorkelling along the rocks. Those seeking quiet push on to Lower Bay, the next cove, even more serene, where two or three canteens serve grilled lobster and local beer beneath the palms. Water taxis shuttle between the dock, the coves and the restaurants for a few Eastern Caribbean dollars.

The Turtles of Old Hegg

On the Atlantic coast, about fifteen minutes' drive away, a retired fisherman named Orton King founded in 1995 the Old Hegg sanctuary, where he raises and releases threatened hawksbill turtles. The visit, simple and moving, shows the residents' pools, from newborns to nearly adults ready to return to the ocean. The taxi ride reveals along the way the island's heights, its windward bays and wooden houses set in gardens.

Reference Points for the Port-Call

The Word the Island Leaves Behind

When the shuttle returns to the ship, the bay's sailing vessels light their anchor lights one by one. Bequia possesses neither fort nor cathedral; its heritage floats, is sculpted into models and passed down from fisherman to carpenter. Passengers who walked to Lower Bay or greeted Orton King's turtles carry the memory of an island that still lives to the rhythm of its boats, and that is precisely why it is remembered.