Commodore
March 9, 2021

A strange visit to Moonhole

After endless chores we finally met Fatman, our very friendly, eloquent (skinny) taxi man at the beach. We organised a ride over to the other side of the island up to the entrance to Moonhole. He did ask if we had a guide and we said we just wanted to walk around on our own. He mentioned it might not be possible, but we wanted to give it a go. We passed the airport and a buzzing local village called Paget Farm, which had loads of colourful fishing boats, obviously the main livelihood around here, opposite the whaling station. Bequia still has permission to kill two whales a year, obviously a contentious issue as a lot of people want it stopped but it is a major part of the local community. The road got rougher until we finally got to a locked gate, and Fatman said we couldn’t go further without permission, he told us he had seen one of the elderly residents returning and we could ask him. What a story, this ancient bent over double old American who has not had a hair trim (hair and beard) in ages staggers out the golf buggy. We went to talk to him and asked if we could take a look around and we got a firm no, with a mumble about the intrigue of this place. He has lived here 20 years, and the place is being disputed in the local courts so a gate has been put up and locked so he can no longer drive to his own home. Thank goodness for the loyal staff who help him walk back up to his house. The place has security everywhere so we definitely can’t go in. What a shame as it looks rather amazing, it was first created by a visionary in the 60’s. Moonhole gets its name from a massive arch formed in volcanic substrate through which the setting moon is sometimes visible. A couple of very successful advertising directors from NY, set the place up in their retirement as a nature reserve for artists, musicians and nature lovers. They used local builders using local materials (including massive whale bones) and no architects, very Gaudi-esque. They did not allow electricity, all water has to be collected from rain, and they did not allow walls to be painted, no glass for windows. The owners died and left the place to the trust of the 16 homes that they allowed their friends and acquaintances to build. Their son contested the will and it has been sitting at a local court for years and years since, while the whole place deteriorates. It sounds a nightmare!

Sadly this is the original main building but got condemned as too many massive rocks were falling. (photo curtesy of wikipedia)

As far as we got, the front entrance, of the 30 acre reserve.

View from their beach

Fatman took us back to the top of the hill and for some exercise we walked down to lower bay and went exploring, down some tracks to some rather nice houses we had spotted from our anchorage. We were rumbled by 4 yapping fluffy dogs who were very excited about seeing us, the owner came out, a local who was very chatty, she had an incredible english accent as she was educated in the UK. Turns out she is a backing vocal for a famous UK female rapper called M.I.A., she was very eccentric and entertaining. Rowan thought she was lonely as she was desperate to talk.