The smallest of the Leeward Islands, Anguilla is a British Overseas Territory in the Caribbean Sea.  Home to 33 white sand beaches, this little island is an ideal spot for a relaxing, sun-filled getaway.  In 2019, as a passenger on a Star Clippers cruise, I spent a delightful afternoon with my family on the beach at Sandy Ground.  We settled into a row of beach chairs in front of the popular Elvis’ Beach Bar, ready to soak in the sun, and bury our feet in the luxurious sand while sipping festive drinks with nostalgic names like Love Me Tender or Blue Suede.   We all had a grand time.  Before we knew it, the tender (or navette) arrived to carry us back to our clipper ship anchored out in the bay.  After this small taste of island life on Anguilla, I did some reading about this lovely destination and now I’m eager to return some day to explore more of its history and culture along with one or two more beaches. In the meantime, I am sharing some photos from my day at the beach, which have inspired the photo essay below.

“Oh no,” Violet  Goodwine cried as she circled her arms in a wild attempt to keep  her balance.  Despite her  efforts, she splashed down into the crystal clear bay at Sandy Ground.  The cool water soothed her sunburned skin as she bobbed back up to the surface.  She swam a few strokes to retrieve her paddle floating on the calm water a few feet from the bamboo board she had rented from her beachside hotel.

Her paddle boarding instructor, Marco, offered encouraging words as she heaved herself back onto her board and rose slowly to a standing position. “You’re doing very well,” he said.  “Everyone falls sometimes. Are you sure this is your first time paddle boarding?”

Violet grinned at the stocky, middle-aged man clad in a perfectly dry tee shirt bearing the name and logo of her boutique hotel.  “Yes, most definitely,” she said, as she pushed her dripping hair out of her eyes. “Actually, I was rather glad to take the plunge.  The water is so refreshing.”

He laughed and glanced at his waterproof watch.  “Sadly, it’s time to head back in.  I have another lesson in a quarter of an hour.  Would you like to practice paddle boarding again tomorrow?”

”If only I could,” Violet sighed.  “This is my last day here.  I fly home tomorrow.”

As they steered their boards to shore, Violet took in the view of the crowded and colorful beach. Wooden lounge chairs adorned with blue and yellow striped cushions and shaded by matching sun umbrellas lined the shoreline. Up on the bluff the brilliant white stucco walls and red tiled roof of the hotel rose into the cloudless cerulean sky. A gentle sea breeze carried the burbling music of a steel drum band out across the water.  Violet thought she recognized the tune to one of favorite songs by Carly Simon.  Wishing she had her camera, Violet filed away this idyllic view in her memory, knowing it would warm her heart on cold winter days ahead at home in Maine.

Back in the cool comfort of her room, Violet took a quick shower and dressed in her favorite pair of lavender capris and an eyelet top. The sun would set at 6:12.  She had plans to meet her hotel neighbor, Sophia, at the Elvis Beach Bar.  The past two evenings, they had meandered over to the popular bar to take in the Caribbean sunset.  Violet couldn’t miss out on this charming island tradition on her last night.

Sophia, a widow from upstate New York, was staying two doors down the hallway.  Like Violet, she was a solo traveler.  The two women had struck up a friendship over coffee and croissants in the breakfast room.  As they chatted, they discovered that they had similar taste in music and books and that they were both enthusiastic seamstresses. Feeling grateful for this holiday friendship and hoping she and Sophia would stay in touch, Violet checked her reflection in the full-length mirror.  Her short auburn hair neatly framed her  sun-kissed face and her gold hoop earrings and locket added the finishing touch to her outfit.  Widening her large, sherry-colored eyes, Violet gave herself a satisfied nod, grabbed her purse from the overstuffed arm chair by the window and headed out the door.

The beach bar was humming when Violet arrived.  Piped in music filled the air as a calypso band set up on the small stage.  Violet wove her way through the tables to the bar and waved when she spotted Sophia, who was dressed in a vibrant orange sundress.  As she approached the bar, a server delivered a plate of jerk chicken strips and two glasses of wine.

Violet scooted herself onto the bar stool beside her friend.  “Wow,” she said, gesturing at the food. “This looks marvelous.  Thanks!”  She reached for a glass of rosé and took an appreciative sip.  “How was your day?” she asked.

”Excellent,” said Sophia.  “I went to the Ani Art Academy.  They have a fantastic exhibition of student work on display now.  What about you?”

Violet told her about her paddle boarding adventure and then changed the subject. “Do you often travel on your own?” she wondered.

“I do. Of course, I used to travel with my husband.” A momentary shadow of grief clouded her face.  With a small sigh, she went on, “When he passed away, I was a little nervous about traveling without him, but I couldn’t give it up. There is still so much of the world I want to see.”

Violet  nodded knowingly and both women took a sip of wine.  They fell into a comfortable silence and gazed out at the ocean where the glowing golden sun hovered on the horizon. 

After a moment, Sophia said, “Ever since my first solo trip to Portugal, I’ve realized how much I like vacationing by myself. It makes me feel so brave and independent.”

“Good for you,” Violet said, reaching for a chicken strip with her fork. “You know, we’ve had an increasing number of single women staying at my inn over the past few years.”

“Tell me more about the hotel where you work,” Sophia said. “How does it compare to our hotel here?”

Violet paused, considering.  “They are completely different, but each wonderful in its own way,” she explained.  “My hotel is a lovely old inn on the Maine coast. Originally, it was the home of one of the town founders.  A ship builder who lived there with his wife and their 9 children.” 

“It must be pretty big to fit such a large family.”

Violet nodded. “There are twelve rooms, each with its own character or personality, if you will, and all brimming with New England charm.  They’re named for different towns in Maine.”

“What a cool idea.  Do you have a favorite room?”

“Hmm . . .” Violet tapped a manicured finger against the base of her wine glass.  “Good question.  I think I’d have to say that our Brunswick Suite is the best.  It’s certainly popular with our guests. The stone fireplace and built-in book shelves make it snug and cozy,” said Violet.  

“It sounds perfect. I spent a lot of time on the Maine coast during college. I went to Colby, but it’s been years since I’ve been back,” Sophia said, checking her watch. “6:10. Almost sunset time,” she added.

Both women turned in their seats to look at the colorful western sky now streaked with violet and deep pink. The sun floated on the edge of the ocean for a dramatic moment and then disappeared.

Thinking about watching the sun set behind a grove of pine trees from the inn’s sunroom back in Maine, Violet was overtaken by a wave of homesickness. She signed, and said, “I’ve had a marvelous time this week, but I’m actually looking forward to getting back home,” she said.

“It has been a lovely week,” Sophia agreed. “I’m glad we met.” She gave Violet a hopeful smile.  “Perhaps this summer I’ll venture up to New England and book the Brunswick Suite at your inn.”

“That would be grand!” Violet’s mind was already filled with plans for the anticipated visit. “You’re welcome anytime.”