Doesn't that name ring a bell?
Like us, many have probably encountered the name Montserrat in one way or another. The name comes from Catalan and means ‘serrated mountain’, which could describe several mountain peaks around the world when you come to think of it. Nonetheless, the name is most often associated with a very particular mountain near Barcelona.
The mountain is home to the Benedictine Order and is an extremely popular pilgrimage destination. The reason is an iconic depiction of the Virgin Mary. The figure is the patron saint of Catalonia, and several hundred thousand pilgrims visit her annually in the hope of experiencing her miracles.
The religious association with the name Montserrat has had a significant influence on its continuation. Looking closer at the colonization and naming of the New World, biblical names are clearly in the lead, along with the names of old European monarchs, of course.
Explorers and monks have spread the name Montserrat far and wide to honor their saint. For instance, the Benedictines brought the name to Buenos Aires, where the Montserrat district later inspired the typeface of the same name. The Montserrat font is used on nearly 19 million websites today, and udve.dk is no exception. You are currently reading a story about Montserrat written in Montserrat.
Irish ancestry
Christopher Columbus also brought the name across the Atlantic. In 1493 he named a small island in the Caribbean after the Spanish saint. Yet another country had been discovered and named under the Spanish flag, but the island was never colonized by the Spaniards. The Kingdom of England however didn’t waste any time, swiftly relocating Irish Catholics from its nearby colonies to the island of Montserrat. The first settlers were soon followed by another wave of Irishmen, fleeing persecution in their homeland and hoping to find sanctuary on the 102 km² island.
Today, Montserrat is a British Overseas Territory, but the Irish roots are impossible to miss. In fact the island is also referred to as the Emerald Isle of the Caribbean, as a tribute to its Irish ancestry. The influence of the first settlers is clearly reflected in the country’s culture and traditions. The language contains words inspired by the Irish Gaelic dialect, and several villages bear Irish names. Even the flag is adorned by the goddess Ériu, who is considered the personification of Ireland.
Even the celebration of St. Patrick’s Day reaches new heights on Montserrat. The festivities last not just a single day as the name suggests, but instead stretch over an entire week. It is a unique blend of Irish tradition, Afro-Caribbean culture, and a remembrance of the failed slave revolt on St. Patrick’s Day in 1768. The celebration is an homage to the island’s cultural heritage and is an important event for the island’s residents. While we missed the festivities by a week, the decorations that still adorned the island when we arrived clearly signalled a celebration that was nothing short of extraordinary.
The volcano awakens
Montserrat belongs to the island group known as the Lesser Antilles. What’s unique about these islands is that they are located in a so-called subduction zone. To avoid boring you to death with detailed explanations of plate tectonics and geological terms, I’ll outline the essence: the area is a volcanic hotspot!
The Lesser Antilles is home to no less than 21 active volcanoes, spread over 11 islands. On Dominica, the volcanoes have so many natural ‘vents’ that the pressure is kept down. The only recorded activity in modern times is steam explosions, which occur when groundwater meets the scorching magma. Montserrat, on the other hand, has not been so fortunate.
The year was 1995. Soufrière Hills had not erupted for 370 years. In fact, seismic activity from the volcano had only been recorded approximately every thirty years since the end of the 19th century. The inhabitants of Montserrat lived in harmony with nature on their enchanting tropical island. The soil on the sides of the volcano was particularly fertile and was cultivated diligently. In fact, a full 80% of the country’s infrastructure was located on the southern part of the island in the shadow of the mighty volcano – including the capital, Plymouth.
On an otherwise quite normal day in July, a deafening bang echoed over Montserrat. The island’s inhabitants described the sound as a roar from a jet engine. The sound actually originated from a steam explosion from the otherwise dormant volcano, and it turned out to be the beginning of a chain reaction of eruptions.
Over the following years, the small Caribbean island was shaken to its core. Repeated eruptions sent avalanches of gas, ash, and rocks – some as big as houses – storming down the sides of the volcano. With speeds of around 130 kilometers per hour and temperatures up to 600°C, the massive avalanches destroyed everything in their path. A particularly large eruption in 1997 brought the tragedy to an unprecedented level. In just 25 minutes, the volcano claimed 19 defenseless human lives and left a deep sense of grief in its wake.
The ferry ride from hell
Island-hopping in the Caribbean is not exactly cheap if you don’t have access to a boat. The flight routes often include a lot of layovers, and the prices can be staggeringly high. Therefore, I seized the opportunity when I noticed a ferry departure from Guadeloupe to Montserrat. There were only two departures in 2023, and we were fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time.
On our second to last day in Guadeloupe, we set off for the small port town of Deshaies on the northwest coast of the island. We were not the only ones who had seized the opportunity to visit Montserrat, and the line for passport control seemed endless. Fortunately, there was a bakery around the corner, and the morning sun was beginning to take hold. When the ferry finally set out, the butterflies in our stomachs began to flutter in anticipation.
However, it was not only excitement that caused the jitters in our stomachs. The crossing turned out to be a very interesting experience for both of us. I’ve never been able to boast about being sea-worthy, although it may have gotten slightly better over the years. Rasmus, on the other hand, couldn’t remember ever having been seasick. That changed on this trip…
Surrounded by a giggling class of school kids, we embarked on the one and a half-hour long boat trip – or so we thought. Due to the turbulent seas, we had to endure another half-hour of torture. To make matters worse, we were forced to listen to the deafening soundtrack of a Turkish cartoon that blasted out of the ferry’s speakers. Even the otherwise squealing teenagers fell silent at the sound of the animated cat’s toilet visits. When we thought it could not get any worse, we were enveloped by an increasing diesel fume that settled like a fog around us as the wind changed direction.
Chaos on the quay
When the ferry finally docked, the passengers were close to toppling over each other to get out into the fresh air. A sigh of relief escaped both of us as we stepped out onto the gangway. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to have solid ground under my feet in my life.
However, the hardships were quickly forgotten as we were welcomed by the sounds of steelpans. A calypso band was ready on the docks to enthusiastically greet the many passengers embarking. On our way from the ferry we were met by countless vendors offering everything from food to cheap souvenirs. It turned out that this ferry crossing was the first since 2019. Therefore, the inhabitants had turned on the charm, and I wouldn’t be surprised if half the island stood before us.
We had booked a guided tour from home to make the most of our day trip to Montserrat. It is not even allowed to explore the exclusion zone on your own due to the unpredictable temperament of Soufrière Hills. Permits are issued exclusively to authorized guides based on daily risk assessments. Thankfully, luck was on our side, and the green light was given for the day’s excursions.
However, things didn’t go entirely smoothly. With 431 visitors all arriving simultaneously, the country’s tourist industry had to work at high pressure. An overwhelming number of taxis, buses, and cars were ready at the end of the quay. On the surface, it seemed very well prepared, but there was a minor flaw in the otherwise impressive planning – there simply were not enough vehicles or guides.
While many of the ferry passengers were whisked off to new adventures, we stood with a smaller group of “abandoned”. The owner of the guide company seemed utterly flustered, and we could almost hear the gears grinding. At the last minute, though, he managed to call in a few favors, and after an hour’s wait, we too could set off towards the volcano.
The ghost town
The drive south was accompagnied by stories of a time marked by uncertainty, loss, and powerlessness. Our guide told us that the inhabitants of Montserrat were offered British citizenship in the wake of the initial eruptions. This resulted in the country’s population being halved, and today it counts only 5,000 individuals. This small group of islanders refuses to let the volcano defeat them, and they continue to fight determinedly to rebuild their homeland.
Along the way, former settlements were pointed out to us. In some places, fields and houses were buried under up to thirty meters of ash and rocks. Here and there, we caught a glimpse of a roof ridge, while the majority of the area most of all resembled one vast sandbox. As we approached Plymouth, the extent of the disaster really began to dawn on us. Although Plymouth is part of the exclusion zone, the city is still the official capital of Montserrat. But the sight that met us was unlike any capital we had previously visited.
In front of us lay a ghost town. It was hard to imagine that the city once bustled with life. In the background, Soufrière Hills towered, casting an ominous shadow over the devastation it had caused. The top of the volcano was covered by a white gas cloud, emitted from its smoldering interior. In a way, it seemed as if it was flaunting its destructive power, emphasizing its terrifying potential.
We were allowed to wander around on our own to explore the remnants of the capital. In several places, we witnessed the glowing temperatures of the eruptions. Window glass, paint, and even asphalt had melted. Metal was crumpled together and woodwork burnt down. The place really reminded us of the devastating power that nature possesses, and how fragile our existence is.
The new beginning
Our visit to Montserrat was a real eye-opener. Soufrière Hills had caused immense devastation after waking from its long slumber. Within a few years, the volcano had buried several towns, including the capital, and transformed half of the small island into an uninhabitable wasteland. The idea that there was ever anything other than desolation was almost unthinkable.
From a lookout point on Montserrat’s east coast, we had a clear view of the beautiful azure sea. Once more the volcano had been at play, and when we took a closer look, we could make out the top of a building near the ocean. In the middle of what seems to be a plain, a control tower rises above the rubble and reveals the location of the old airport.
But the trip wasn’t solely about devastation. We were also given the opportunity to experience the incredible vitality and optimism of Montserrat’s inhabitants. Despite everything they have been through, they are still full of smiles and hope for the future. They happily talk about their everyday life, about the eruptions, and about their hopes for the future. Their generosity and strong solidarity convincingly emphasizes that even the most hopeless situations can be turned around.
Are we there yet?
Fortunately, Mount Soufrière remained calm during our brief visit, aside from a constant seepage of gas from the top. Before we left the island, we decided to end the day with a green cocktail – a popular choice for celebrating St. Patrick’s Day. As we walked out to the dock, the sun began its slow descent towards the surface of the sea, appropriately marking the end of an unforgettable day. We once again boarded the ferry, this time with an additional stamp and heaps of new impressions. The shamrock in green ink shines brightly in our beet-red passports, as a perpetual reminder of our visit to the Emerald Isle of the Caribbean.
According to a crew member, the journey home was supposed to be less intense, as conditions had improved throughout the day. What a tall tale! Rasmus had to go in search of vomit bags and water, while the color of my face became increasingly unhealthy. People were lying on the floor between rows of seats and the toilets were occupied by seasick passengers (myself included). The outdoor areas were so densely populated that it was a wonder the ferry didn’t list to one side. We managed to find a small corner on deck, where we eagerly inhaled the fresh sea air. In retrospect, green drinks were probably not the best idea before a boat trip.
The day after, we caught a final glimpse of Montserrat from the air as we flew towards the Dominican Republic. Viewed from above, the devastation was even more overwhelming. The trail of the lava extended like scars from the center of the volcano to the crystal blue sea. It was a stark reminder of nature’s destructive powers and how thousands of human lives can be changed in an instant.
¹ GISGeopraphy: https://gisgeography.com/montserrat-map/
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