Once Upon a Time, I Lived on the Isle of Saba
Just Another Travel Adventure
If you haven’t heard of Saba, that’s okay.
I suspect many people haven’t. The island of Saba is located 28 miles to the southwest of the international hub of St. Maarten/St. Martin. On a clear day, you can see the islands of St. Maarten, St. Barthélemy (St. Barths), St. Eustatius (Statia), St. Kitts, Nevis, and even Montserrat from the summit of Mt. Scenery.
That was my view for 90 days from the windows of a house on Saba.
I took care of this house while it was going through probate. The estate sat on the highest point of the island. From the swimming pool, my view included all of the above islands.
It’s a long story, but a fun one, I think — one of many international adventures that I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing.
For almost four years, my husband and I lived everywhere but nowhere. We were nomads. I started an international housesitting business and traded our services for the amenities of a nice home in an exotic location. Usually, the homeowners were expats who needed someone to take care of their homes, pets, and pools while they visited family. Taking care of the Pyramid House was one of the most unusual housesitting opportunities that came our way.
Oh yes, the house really was shaped like a pyramid.
For three months, we lived in the clouds, enjoying a free show as cloud formations took center stage. Rain over there, sun over here. Sometimes clouds swept across the pyramid property, shrouding us in moist air as they swallowed the magnificent view. There were rainbows in the sky, pure sunshine to celebrate, thunderstorm clouds, and blue skies.
Living on Saba is like living in Jurassic Park.
Time was captured in a bottle. There are wild, indigenous orchids and giant iguanas on Saba, with some measuring over six feet long. There’s only one road on the island, which climbs, twists, and turns precariously. It’s called The Road. The population is just under 2,000 people, consisting of Dutch and English speakers.
Saba is a little volcano adrift at sea.
Scuba divers are trained on the island, and there’s a small medical school as well. You can dip your toe in the ocean, but the beaches disappear for part of each year.
The Pyramid House was once a meditation yoga retreat. By the time we were there, it belonged to an elderly gentleman from the U.S. who used it as a getaway for part of each year. We never met him, but after corresponding with him for well over six months, he hired us to look after his estate. We replaced another American couple who were completing a 90-day stay. Unfortunately, a few weeks before we were to arrive, the gentleman passed away unexpectedly.
His lawyer asked us to consider taking the assignment anyway while the estate went through probate, and we agreed.
We arrived on the island by ferry, which was a precarious ride on rough seas that even the locals said was wilder than usual. I had chosen the ferry because the only other way to get to Saba was in a small prop plane — a short 15-minute flight to the island where the plane lands on the shortest landing strip in the world. That made me hesitant, so I took the over three-hour ferry ride instead. What a mistake. I was seasick even though I had taken medication. The ride was so rough that a good part of the time, the ship was practically lying on one side or another.
I gripped the arms of the seat I occupied, squeezed my eyes shut, and didn’t open them again until we arrived.
It was dark when we disembarked. A hired car was waiting for us, and we were told to come back tomorrow with passports to check in properly. So, off we went into the dark, following the twisting, winding road until, suddenly, we stopped. A woman was standing at the side of the road with a wheelbarrow. She urged us to put our luggage in it and follow her. We passed through a gate, walked across an open field, went through a second set of gates, and followed a narrow path in the dark, guided by the stream of light from her flashlight.
We were exhausted, so as soon as she got us settled and left us alone, we fell into bed.
The next morning, we were awakened by bright sunlight streaming through the sliding glass doors to the balcony. I got out of bed, opened the doors, and stepped outside. What met my eyes was paradise. I felt like Dorothy after her house crashed in the land of Oz, moving from a black-and-white world to a world of unbelievable colors, contours, and vistas.
Thus began three months of adventures.
I don’t have time to recount every adventure we had on the island, but I will try to touch on some of the unusual aspects of life on Saba.
Food
There were a few restaurants, bars, and grocery stores. We walked the half mile through the woods to The Road, where the car was parked, and drove to one of four villages to shop. The four villages included The Bottom, Windwardside, St. John’s, and Zion’s Hill, aka Hell’s Gate. Most of the food and other supplies were imported, so usually by the end of the week, the shelves would look a bit bare. We purchased whatever we could manage to stuff in our backpacks and then walked the half mile back through the woods to the house.
Wildlife
Besides the giant iguanas, there were herds of wild goats roaming the island. The Pyramid House was built on a 1,700-foot cliff, and often, a herd of goats would gather near the edge of the property to graze. People from town told us we should shoo them away because, eventually, they would eat our decorative plants. One day, I spotted a group of four or five goats standing not far from the swimming pool, so I ran out of the house, waving my arms and yelling at them. Before I knew it, they turned and jumped off the edge of the cliff. I was horrified! I ran to the edge of the cliff and peered down. There they were below, standing on tiny little ledges, looking up at me.
Our Location and Job Description
I’ve already mentioned that the Pyramid House stood on a 1,700-foot cliff with a spectacular view. There was no driveway leading to the house, so we felt somewhat isolated. The gentleman who owned the property had an old car. He saw no reason to upgrade to a better vehicle, as things rusted so easily on the island. We had to get it fitted with new brakes before we felt safe driving it beyond the closest little village. The Road was very twisting, winding, and steep, with unforgettable views of the sea. Driving The Road was a bit of a tense adventure in and of itself, but once we got the brakes replaced, we felt safer.
We didn’t have many tasks to perform; mostly, we were a presence on the property. However, we did mow, tend to the pool, keep the patios cleared of debris, and feed the cats. Setai and Cleo were two lovely permanent resident cats who appreciated our company as we did theirs.
There were some flowers in the gardens, but mostly the property was surrounded by a natural setting. If a person loves nature, as I do, then it was sometimes hard to leave the place, even for a few hours.
The Locals
We got to know our neighbors, who were friendly and helpful. I’m not much of a partier, but on a few occasions, we went out for the evening to listen to music and mingle. Saba is a municipality of the Netherlands, so Dutch is spoken on the island, as well as English.
Our Departure
Ninety days sounds like a long time, but it always flies by. We’ve done numerous housesits throughout the world, but it was always a treat to stay in one spot for as long as three months. It takes time to get to know people, find your way around a new place, develop a routine, and familiarize yourself with customs and social practices — things you can’t do as a tourist. Ninety days is just scratching the surface, but you do leave a housesit of that duration with a feeling of familiarity that only comes from spending extended time somewhere as an “untourist.”
When the day came for our departure, I knew well in advance that we’d be returning to Saint Maarten via prop plane. I had no desire to get seasick again. It was a gorgeous day with plenty of sunshine when we reluctantly said goodbye to Setai and Cleo. A hired car picked us up at the side of the road at almost the exact spot where they had dropped us off on the night of our arrival. We enjoyed the drive to the tiny airport, home to the shortest landing strip in the world. This time, I didn’t close my eyes as we took off down the runway, headed straight for the edge of the cliff.
I kept my eyes wide open because I didn’t want to miss a thing. I wanted to look at Saba through the windows of the plane for as long as possible.
Teresa is an author and professional myth buster. You can find her books on Amazon.
