I haven’t won the lottery but it feels like it as I accept an iced fruit kebab from a smiling waiter, the infinity pool next to me reflecting the indigo Caribbean sky. The jagged, jungled Pitons mountains of St. Lucia form a pleasing backdrop to the harbour at sleepy Soufriere, where Emerald Sakara, “my” yacht, is anchored.
No other cruise ships are visible; they mostly go into the far less scenic capital, Castries, along the coast. Only fishing boats and a few gin palaces are around us, and Emerald Sakara is the biggest, sleekest gin palace of them all.
Launched in 2023, this is the second yacht for Emerald Cruises. The formula has been so successful that a third has recently been announced. In an era where cruise lines embrace the economies of scale that come from giant ships, Emerald has gone in the opposite direction.
The Emerald Sakara and its sister, Azzurra, carry just 100 passengers each. And while they feel like superyachts, they’re priced lower than the all-inclusive yacht cruises of sister company Scenic, and are a bargain compared to the prices you’d pay for newcomers such as The Ritz-Carlton Yacht Collection and Four Seasons.
This is small-ship living; if you want ultra-luxe, go for the larger Scenic yachts. Other than sandwiches and snacks by the pool, all meals are in the indoor-outdoor La Cucina restaurant, where breakfast and lunch are buffet and evenings are à la carte. Even in the humidity and heat of the Caribbean, there was competition for the outside tables, which are undeniably romantic.
As well as the infinity pool, there’s an oversized whirlpool and a marina platform on the Emerald Sakara. Most days, the water toys were brought out and I’d bask on a floating mat, water sloshing gently in my ears, or have a bounce on the water trampoline.
The ship is extremely glossy, with lots of white marble, gauzy grey, gleaming stainless steel and banks of lush greenery. Entertainment is laid-back but excellent; chill-out music by the onboard guitarist Jamie Ferguson set the scene most nights as I sipped my pre-dinner martinis, the fiery Caribbean sunset streaking the sky.
The itinerary and the ship attracted a fun-loving crowd, with plenty of people in their 30s and 40s. There were groups of friends, four Canadians travelling in mother-daughter combos, some Brits celebrating a 50th birthday and others just with partners. Even though the nightlife was informal, this lot liked to dance (and booze) in the evenings.
For me, choosing this cruise was all about the itinerary: no long sea passages, no overcrowded ports, just gentle island-hopping between small, out-of-the-way anchorages on a week’s potter round-trip from Antigua. After Antigua, we didn’t see another ship – and there aren’t many Caribbean cruises where you can make that claim.
Australians who have travelled the distance to the Caribbean may want a more culture-packed itinerary than mine, which focused almost entirely on beach life – the reason most Europeans and North Americans come here. But there is history, if you look for it. I was keen, for example, to discover more about Martinique, which has been shaped in more ways than one by the brooding hulk of the volcano Mont Pelée, overlooking the peaceful little village of St. Pierre.
Colourful houses in bright pastels with a hint of Art Nouveau straggle along a sparkling grey sand beach. Given that this is a slice of France in the tropics, I shouldn’t have been surprised to see locals tucking into their plats du jour and bottles of red wine in the heat of the day. But I was on a mission to visit the Musée Volcanologique.
This slightly chilling museum tells the story of the day in 1902 that changed the town forever. Mont Pelée obliterated the entire population of 29,000 in the space of two minutes flat, with a single, cataclysmic blast of hot gas. For days before, lightning flashed around the summit and rushing rivers propelled boulders and boiling mud down to the coast, which might have been a clue to get out.
But there was only one survivor, Ludger Sylbaris, a small-time criminal who’d been locked in an underground cell at the time of the eruption. He was freed and, once he’d recovered from his burns and joined a travelling circus, became a minor celebrity.
Normally, a cruise itinerary to this part of the world includes one day in St. Vincent and the Grenadines (SVG), but we had three, which was such a treat. This island chain is famed for its swish-but-discreet hotels, A-list following and (for the Caribbean, which is not the Great Barrier Reef) spectacular snorkelling.
Mayreau is the tiniest speck of an island, the golden sand of Saline Bay backed by sea grape trees, the shadows of underwater rocks clearly visible at one end. We snorkelled here among blue tangs, stripy sergeant majors and red sea stars. Lunch was on the beach, prepared by local caterers, a barbecue of fried conch, chicken, rice and treacly fried bananas.
Port Elizabeth on Bequia is a chic little spot, just a short sail away. The intensity of the colours – lime green, bright orange and electric turquoise – was dazzling. Even the trees are painted.
There’s royal history here; the late Princess Margaret honeymooned in the Grenadines in 1960 and swam off her yacht to what’s now named Princess Margaret Beach. You can reach it by following a pretty trail over the saddle of a hill and around a boardwalk over crystal-clear water, sea stars and urchins clearly visible on the seabed. We had the beach almost to ourselves; a few locals were limin’ (the Caribbean word for lounging around with friends and shooting the breeze). A pack of local dogs splashed around with us in the water.
The Tobago Cays, our final stop in SVG, had the best snorkelling of all. The sea here is a bright aquamarine, streaked with sapphire, low-rise bottle-green islands scattered across the horizon. I swam among big schools of blue tang, iridescent blue and pink parrotfish. and boxfish with comically pouty lips. Two big rays glided beneath me and shot off into the deep blue. If you come here, bring cash; local fishermen will ferry you around the headland to the seagrass beds where you can swim among feeding sea turtles. Foolishly, I’d come ill-equipped, forgetting that tiny islands don’t take credit cards, and had blown all my dollars on floaty beachwear in Bequia.
Iles des Saintes, a gorgeous little island chain belonging to Guadeloupe, has always been one of my favourite Caribbean spots and on this visit, I wanted to explore further than the town waterfront, where I’m normally distracted by the boutiques and the toes-in-the-sand bars. Yet again, my lack of organisation caught up with me. The ship’s snorkelling tour was full, and all the local taxi drivers were having a siesta. So we hired e-bikes, determined to reach Plage Pain de Sucre, where the snorkelling was said to be good.
Pain de Sucre means Sugar Loaf, which ought to have been a clue; even on an e-bike, getting up the hills in the humidity was exhausting. The snorkelling was rewarding, with corals, multicoloured sponges and plenty of fish, and a couple of ice-cold beers back in town restored my flagging sense of humour.
My itinerary ended in Antigua. Again, a bit of advance planning is needed here as a lot of flights don’t leave until the evening. If you don’t want to spend the day carting luggage around in town, book a day pass to one of the resorts. The Gunpowder Suites, a boutique hotel at the UNESCO-protected Nelson’s Dockyard at English Harbour, was just the ticket: it presented a chance to admire the 18th-century dockyard, built by the Royal Navy, and bask by a gorgeous pool and tuck into the included lunch before heading to the airport. It was the best possible way to stretch the superyacht lifestyle out for just one more day.
My Favourite Meal on Emerald Sakara
I didn’t have a single favourite meal, but the destination-inspired dishes were the best: prawn bisque, a confit tuna salad, sole with green-pea puree, black bean burritos and a killer key lime pie.
My Insider Tips
You don’t need to bring snorkelling gear – it’s handed out on board. Do book some of the tours, which cost extra, as they’ll show you the Caribbean beyond the beaches. We did a good excursion in Soufriere to the sulphur springs, where you can wallow in geothermically heated pools and slap on a healing layer of black mud. They get booked up, as I found to my cost, so plan ahead.
What to expect on the Emerald Sakara
Expect a sociable, laidback scene with friendly service and a younger-than-usual cruising crowd. While evenings weren’t dressy, as such, people did dress to fit the vibe of the yacht, so pack something floaty or some smart tailored shorts.
To book your spot on the Emerald Sakara, click here
