The Island of St. Martin

Christopher Columubus is credited with discovering St. Martin in 1493, on the feast day of St. Martin of Tours. During the 140 years that followed, the Spanish, French, and the Dutch disputed possession.

This divided island covers only 37 square miles and is shared by two sovereign states. Possession of the island is split between the Dutch and the French with the European governmnets responsible for the defense and foreign affairs. The only way you even know you're crossing an International border is when you see a marker on the side of the road. No passport check, no security guards--nothing. It's very literally just a spot in the road, thus proving two countries in very close proximity can get along peacefully!

The natives are proud of their many years of peaceful coexistence. Legend, according to our good-natured bus driver, says a Dutchman and Frenchman walked around the island to see how much land each could earmark for his country in just one day. The Frenchman may have walked further, but the Dutchman got the more valuable piece of property. The island was officially split in 1648.

Diamonds, gold and gem stones are a big deal on this island. In the Dutch Capital of Philipsburg, it seemed jewelry stores outnumbered T-shirt vendors, and that's not easy to do! They make an especially big fuss over Tanzanite, a relative newcomer in the gem world. Only discovered in the 1960s, tanzanite is only found in a tiny region of East Africa (so they say) and the supply is limited.

Although the incredible number of expensive jewelry shops lend a sophisicated air to St. Martin, the wandering chickens and goats make for a true contrast. Just minutes away from Philipsburg are narrow, dirt roads virtually unchanged over the past one hundred years.

I opted for a new experience, and signed up for visit to a butterfly farm. Located on the French side of the island, the farm was established by two eccentric Englishmen, their own description, not mine, and first opened it's doors in 1994. Due to a rash of hurriances, the butterfly farmers have three times seen their efforts completely destroyed. But, they presevered in the face of tough odds, finding both the money and determination to rebuild each time. Jolly good for them and everyone else who finds this off-of-the-beaten path butterfly oasis.

The "farm" consists of a 1000-square meter, meshed enclosure, filled with tropical landscaped gardens, a waterfall and small ponds filled with Japanese fish. The butterflies go about their merry way, often landing but rarely remaining in any one place for long. Soothing music plays, adding to the tranquil atmosphere.

An important part of any visit to the butterfly farm is the guided tour. With quips and humor, (in a thick English accent) the owners explain the evolutionary cycle from microscopic eggs to the birth of a butterfly. After about twenty minutes of listening, I admit my trigger finger was inching to photograph the colorful little creatures, so I wandered off. As it turned out, close-up shots are not easy to get with butterflies, even when they are close at hand. They tend to land just long enough to get an adequate focus set-up, before flitting off. Marigot, the French capital, is not quite the same size as it's counterpart, Phillipsburg. It has none of the frenzied pace of the Dutch capital, which is often overrun with cruise ship passengers. Grand Case, another city on the French side, has been called "the dining Capital of the Caribbean."

Of course, the major draw is the weather. Sunshine is pretty much guaranteed year-round on St. Martin, and the 36 white-sand beaches remain fairly unspoiled.