A Wild Lust Tour of Antigua: Concierges & Stingrays & One Suzuki Jimny

L'Arrivée: Whisked Through, Then Made to Wait

We were greeted before security had even finished pretending to be difficult, our concierge sweeping us through in proper VIP style, past every queue and straight to the waiting car. After eight hours in the air this counts as a mercy rather than a luxury.

A lovely Antiguan lady then drove us to our villa, chatting away as though we were old friends rather than jet-lagged strangers.

Deep Bay: The Best Beach You Have Not Yet Been Told About

The beach at Deep Bay is one of the finest in Antigua, unbeatable without argument and among the best in the Caribbean, a long sloping curve with only the resort at one end, so that the remaining three quarters lie unspoiled and are used, now and then, by the locals rather than the guidebooks. The sand is golden and fine, the water crystal clear, protected within the bay, with two wonderful local beach shacks at the far end serving lobster and cold local beer.

Our first swim brought us a small, lovely stingray with a remora hitching a ride on its back, followed by a much larger moon jellyfish, beautiful and unhurried, the size of a large dinner plate with four purple coin-sized circles arranged in perfect symmetry at its centre. Best of all, they are entirely harmless, their sting closer to a stinging nettle felt through clothing than anything worth fearing, mild enough that swimming through them is not merely safe but faintly pleasant once you stop flinching.

We put the young adults onto an inflatable funsofa while my wife and I discovered the small, guilty pleasure of no longer having to join them. These things are back-breakers, and the spray thrown up behind the jet ski has the manners of a military water cannon.

Fording the Reef to a Fort Nobody Warned Us About

We then climbed the peninsula toward the old fort and clambered over the rocks, not an outing for the faint-hearted. The fort, we later discovered, is Fort Barrington, named for Admiral Samuel Barrington and built to guard the approach to St John's Harbour, which explains why it sits exactly where wading across becomes unavoidable. Reaching it meant fording the reef at waist height to the little island beyond, anchoring ourselves each time a larger wave tried to sweep us off our feet. Only fifty metres of water, and thrilling all the same. From there we climbed the island hill to an even older section of fort, strictly for the adventurous, and stabbed ourselves repeatedly on cacti standing over twelve feet tall on the steep way down. Tant pis.

Le Grand Tour, in a Suzuki Jimny Named for a Small Mammal

Then came the grand tour of Antigua in our Suzuki Jimny, hired from Raine's Car Rental and delivered directly to the hotel by a lovely lady who filled in the forms with brisk, practised efficiency.

We visited English Harbour, fifteen US dollars a head, a national park well worth contributing to, before continuing up to Shirley Heights, the best view on the island and home to another old English fort. It is, without dispute, a must-see in Antigua, beautiful and dense with history. The harbour and its dockyard take their name from Horatio Nelson, who commanded the Royal Navy outpost there between 1784 and 1787. Shirley Heights itself is named for Sir Thomas Shirley, a former governor-in-chief of the Leeward Islands, and began life as a signal station during the American War of Independence, scanning the horizon for approaching sails long before it became famous for sunsets and rum punch. Do not miss a night at The Galley Bar, where you write the name of your boat and crew on the roof beams. Emily and I found our names from ten years earlier, still faintly visible beneath a decade of newer arrivals.

Stingray City, Where Scooby Knows Everyone by Name

The next day took us to Stingray City and Laviscount Island, named after my ancient ancestor, and not just any viscount but La Viscount. It ought, strictly, to be Le rather than La, but what is a small gender error between friends and several centuries.

A speedboat wafted us out to small sandbanks in the middle of the sea, waist deep in water far from land, the islands visible only as distant shapes. It is an extraordinarily beautiful location. Scooby, a proper Rastafarian in a magnificently multicoloured cap, has his favourite stingray, named Love Sponge, who is by his account twenty years old, with rays said locally to live to forty, though the marine biologists would put the ceiling rather lower and Scooby would tell you that marine biologists have never actually met Love Sponge. Scooby has been doing this for twenty-two years and seems to know every stingray on the sandbank by name.

They are wild stingrays in their natural habitat, and the stingrays know exactly when the boats arrive, recognising Scooby and the other regular feeders as they flock around them on their well-worn commute between raft and feeders. We are, quite simply, in the way. It is both surreal and memorable.

We hold the stingrays in our hands, each palm cupped beneath the wings, right to the back of the animal. We feed them, holding squid in an upturned fist as they suck it straight from our hands. Their mouths sit directly underneath, between the eyes on top, so working out where to aim becomes second nature quickly enough, though not before one enthusiastic diner attaches herself to my palm with the sort of prolonged, committed suction that leaves a small red circle behind and a great deal to explain back at the hotel bar. A stingray hickey, Scooby informed me with visible delight, is an entirely normal souvenir of the afternoon, and considerably harder to hide from one's wife than the usual sort. I have had holiday romances end with less to show for them.

As they are fed they grow bolder, two or three gliding past at once, knocking gently into legs, waist or chest, wings brushing over you as though encouraging you to keep up your end of the arrangement. They feel smooth, with a gentle texture, faintly ethereal, and they move at such speed it feels like being dive-bombed by very determined angels, their wings undulating like mercury.

Tortoises, & the Art of Living Two Hundred Years

Then a boat to tortoise island, home to giant tortoises reputed to live up to two hundred years, a figure I am happy to repeat without personally verifying it, since none of the tortoises seemed inclined to confirm or deny anything. The coast around Seaton is stunning, dotted with small islands only a few minutes apart by boat, mangrove trees lining the shore where the stingrays nest.

A Windsurfing Disaster Becomes a Rasta Yakuza Escort

Later in the day I took a windsurfer out. Conditions were poor, strong gusts driving hard from the shore straight out to sea. I powered out with the wind, but tide and wind together turned against me, and each tack pushed me further out, past the little island we had climbed the day before and clear out of the bay. My failure as a sailor turned out brilliantly, since I flagged down two of the jet ski guys I had befriended on our first day, Jah Riba and Stonecold, and was towed back to shore by one jet ski with three more acting as escort on all sides.

It looked like a military jet ski procession, and even being towed rather ignominiously, I enjoyed every second. The four riders were togged out like gangsters in full-face masks, each with its own design, which only added to the spectacle. The entire beach watched as I arrived, flanked by four Rasta Yakuza on jet skis. My children were mortified. I was delighted.

Antigua Scuba School: Wilder Adventures

Our tours were arranged through WaDaddy Concierge, and the moment we met Wilder and Kristine at the Antigua Scuba School in Jolly Harbour, we knew we were in for excellent dives. The pair are so charming and easy that diving with them feels less like a booked activity and more like an outing with old friends who happen to know the reef better than anyone else alive.

Wilder is Polish, Kristine is Canadian, and both have called Antigua home for a decade, knowing it thoroughly enough to skip the guidebook entirely. Based in Jolly Harbour, next to Jolly Beach, in about the most perfect location the island offers, home to the largest and wealthiest expat community on Antigua, they took us out on their large speedboat for two brilliant dives. The first was at Snapper Ledge, down to fourteen metres, where a small reef shark found us early on and swam alongside for half the dive, circling with obvious curiosity and giving each of us proper time with him in turn. We rolled backward off the boat kitted out in properly good equipment, BCDs that take the weights into the jacket rather than a separate belt, which I find infinitely more comfortable. The second dive, a drift along Lemon Ridge, brought lionfish, pufferfish, a turtle carrying a beautifully patterned shell, and, best of all, live conches and an octopus caught mid-lunch on an unlucky crab.

Back on the boat, Kristine handed round fresh mangoes, the perfect après-dive fruit.

Jolly Harbour, on the south-west coast of Antigua, is a small, wealthy enclave of expats and luxury villas. The top villa overlooking the harbour was reportedly built for something in the region of fourteen million US dollars around four years ago. As the largest man-made marina in the Caribbean, built from what was once mangrove swamp, it delivers a fully self-contained world of championship golf, tennis and superb waterfront dining, all a short stroll from the powdery white sands of Jolly Beach.

Zip Lines & Wobbly Bridges Above the Rainforest

We then went off touring around the island in our Suzuki Jimny, taking in beaches, bars and restaurants over two days, including the zip line strung out over the rainforest. Connie and Dash run the operation, keeping it safe without ever letting it feel tame. Some of us started rather nervous about the heights, yet after a line or two were shouting and whooping along with everyone else. Even the tree line assault course at the end, eight extremely wobbly rope bridges and swinging planks, gets short shrift from all of us by that point. Both the zip line and our stingray morning were arranged through the Antigua & Barbuda Hotels & Tourism Association and the St James Group, which spared us a great deal of telephoning.

The Hawksbill Jet Ski Safari: Two Yamahas & a Giant Turtle

Then down to Hawksbill Bay, named for a rock formation shaped uncannily like a turtle's head and flippers breaking the surface just offshore, tucked just behind Deep Bay in Five Islands. This was less an outing than a proper safari, only conducted at speed and entirely on water. Two Yamaha jet skis, and they went like the clappers, the sea flat calm and glassy enough to open the throttle fully without a second thought, which we did, repeatedly, with the sort of enthusiasm normally reserved for people half our age.

Our ninety-minute loop ran from Deep Bay through Dark Wood Beach, on through Jolly Harbour and up to Johnson's Point, the coastline unspooling past us in a blur of turquoise and green, the wake kicking up white behind us like something out of a Bond film missing only the theme tune. Every so often the guide slowed the pace to point out a headland or a hidden cove, just long enough to catch your breath before opening up again, and the calm water meant you could carve turns at full speed without the usual bone-jarring chop, closer to skating than boating. We stopped along the way for a snorkel, the jet skis bobbing patiently while we cooled off, and bottles of water, sun beds and umbrellas were laid on back at the beach for anyone sensible enough not to be jet skiing at all.

The Wheel of Fortune at the Rubis Garage

Then we stopped to fill up our trusty Suzuki Jimny, and the pump attendant insisted on handing me a ticket for the wheel of fortune spinning in the forecourt. Before I quite understood what was happening, two lovely Antiguan ladies were dragging me toward a stall complete with live music, a DJ and dancers, my family convinced I had been kidnapped. If only. Reluctantly persuaded to spin, I watched the man ahead of me win a plastic cup of no particular value, but I landed on cash, a one in twenty chance, and was duly stuffed into an inflatable telephone booth where fake dollars swirled around me for thirty seconds while I grabbed what I could. What emerged was sixty real dollars. Thank you very much, Antigua Rubis petrol station. Paid for our fuel, and I got myself embarrassed on local television in the same afternoon.

Driving in Antigua, or Mad Max Does the School Run

Driving in Antigua is remarkably easy, the roads wide and no worse than the UK, the occasional pothole aside. The state of the cars may give you pause, ninety percent of them looking as though they would fail an MOT on sight, most missing a major body part, closer to Mad Max after everyone has piled into everyone else. It is rather like stepping back into the eighties, and superbly unspoiled for it. People drive carefully for the most part, and you can park for free anywhere at any beach or town, which makes the whole business close to stress-free. Most of the cars are, strangely enough, Japanese. Take this as law: you must rent a car, since there is simply too much to see, too many beaches to visit and too many different things to do. It is driving from a time before rules multiplied. Just take it Caribbean chill, slow.

Naturally, we spent our nights watching the sunset with a cocktail, or a cool glass of something French.

WaDaddy Enterprises Concierge: Wilder Still

Wilder and Kristine also run WaDaddy Enterprises, the concierge company we used for our tour, and I recommend them without reservation. Antigua still runs on old Caribbean time, 'take it cool' remaining the island's mantra for everything, which is wonderful but can mean things move slowly, so having a local like Wilder handle your arrangements is essential rather than indulgent, and better value than attempting it alone, I promise.

So Wilder took us out on his boat for a fabulous tour of the west coast, south past his favourite beach, Pigeon Point, accessible only by boat, aboard his Bradley thirty-foot boat, a former rescue vessel fitted with twin 150 Yamaha outboards. We swam off the perfect beach and snorkelled. There are said to be 365 beaches on Antigua, one for every day of the year, all natural. Then into Five Islands Bay, along to Maiden Island, tiny, with a single private house sitting on it.

Then it was a wreck dive in Deep Bay, what looked like an old steamer with a wide chimney stack. She turned out to be the Andes, a three-masted steel merchant barque that caught fire in 1905 after her cargo of pitch ignited mid-voyage, steered into Deep Bay rather than risk St John's Harbour, and left to settle where she remains, mostly a skeleton now, encrusted in coral. It was exciting all the same. Then one of us screamed as something struck their hand, and struck again. We were entirely surrounded by moon jellyfish, harmless little things, but millions of them, a swarm closer to Finding Nemo than any dive briefing had prepared us for, from tiny babies to specimens the size of giant dinner plates. It was half water and half jellyfish, perhaps fifty in the water immediately around you.

My family were a little concerned, though they are completely harmless, at worst the sting no more than a tenth of a stinging nettle. Ignoring them proved easy enough, simply getting used to the odd slap and the strange sensation of your hand meeting jelly as you swim along.

I dived down the chimney stack for a proper look at the sunken ship. At its highest point it sits about a metre down, sloping to around six metres at its lowest.

Our survival was celebrated with local beer on the boat and a bottle of something bubbly. Then Wilder dropped us right back at our hotel beach. It was a beautiful and memorable experience the children will remember forever.

A Small Stingray Says Goodbye

On the last day I swam in the sea, and this time, instead of swimming off, a baby stingray stayed with me, swimming in front, turning back when I lagged behind, circling underneath me, then leading me off again. We played this game for twenty minutes, a lovely goodbye from Antigua.

Antigua is now a rarity, still completely unspoiled, its beaches open to all, its pace gentle and slow, driving around entirely stress-free, exploring islands, forests, mountains, beaches, bars and restaurants along the way. It is stunningly beautiful, you will not find better beaches anywhere else in the world, the sunsets magnificent, and the people genuinely welcoming. Most of all, it has not been spoilt. It is still a genuine Caribbean island, closer to the seventies than the present, and has not simply become another wealthy enclave in the manner of St Barths. Antigua is the real Caribbean. Or as they say in Antigua "Just bubble."

Where to Eat

Antigua has a great many good restaurants, and our favourites, gathered over several days of determined touring, ran the full range. On the beach, Loose Canon at Galleon Bay, Dennis at Ffryes Beach and Casa Roots at Dickenson Bay each earn their place. For seafood, the Lobster Hut in English Harbour, Papa Zouk in town and Cloggy's do it properly. For local food, Aunty Cavell's at Darkwood and Trappas are excellent, and the street vendors grilling jerk, barbecue pork and chicken deserve just as much respect as anywhere with a wine list. For a proper occasion, The Hut on Little Jumby, La Bistro and Catherine's Café by the beach all rise to it. Should a private charter to Barbuda ever present itself, Nobu is the answer.

Where to Drink

Shirley Heights owns Thursdays and Sundays, with steel and reggae bands drawing everyone up the hill, while Mangroves on Jolly Beach suits an afternoon of day drinking and chilling by the water. In high season, English Harbour is superb for bar hopping and nightlife, Vyce Nightclub keeps things lively after dark, and The Penthouse, newer and pricier, carries a genuinely great atmosphere all the same. Prickly Pear Island, near Hodges Bay, is excellent for day chilling or special events like the Full Moon Party, and Dive Bar has the best vibe of the lot, a place where locals and tourists mix properly, complete with pool table, darts and themed food nights, from European specials to Reggae Rasta evenings with local food and live music. Jolly Harbour Bar Village runs different events all week, karaoke and quiz nights, with a good variety of food to choose from, Italian, Mexican, healthy food, Texas grill and local cooking.

Antigua FAQ: The Questions Everyone Actually Asks

Is Antigua good for a luxury family holiday?
Yes, and unusually so, since genuine five-star resorts sit alongside entirely unspoiled, undeveloped beaches, giving families both polish and room to roam.

Do you need to hire a car in Antigua?
You do. The roads are easy, parking is free almost everywhere, and a car reaches beaches and viewpoints that taxis alone will never manage.

Are the stingrays and jellyfish at Antigua's beaches dangerous?
No. The stingrays at sites like Stingray City are used to human contact and handled by experienced local guides, and moon jellyfish, the species most commonly encountered while swimming, deliver a sting so mild it barely registers, closer to a nettle through clothing than anything worth worrying about.

What is the history of Nelson's Dockyard and Shirley Heights?
Nelson's Dockyard takes its name from Horatio Nelson, stationed there between 1784 and 1787, and remains the world's only continuously working Georgian-era dockyard, a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 2016. Shirley Heights, named for former Leeward Islands governor Sir Thomas Shirley, began as a signal station during the American War of Independence.

Why is there a shipwreck in Deep Bay?
The wreck belongs to the Andes, a three-masted merchant barque that caught fire in 1905 when her cargo of pitch ignited, and was steered into Deep Bay to spare St John's Harbour. She rests in around thirty feet of water and remains an easy, popular snorkel and dive site.

Is Jolly Harbour worth visiting if you are staying elsewhere?
Yes. It is the largest man-made marina in the Caribbean, built from former mangrove swamp, and offers golf, dining and yachting worth an afternoon on their own.

How does Antigua compare to St Barths or other more developed islands?
Antigua has kept a rawness that more polished islands have largely traded away. Its beaches, said to number 365, one for every day of the year, remain open to everyone rather than gated behind resorts.

Our Scuba Diving and Concierge Companions

Antigua Scuba School antiguascubaschool.com
WaDaddy Enterprise Facebook page
Raine's Car Rental rainecarrental.com
Antigua Barbuda Hotels & Tourism Association (arranged our stingray and zipline tours) antiguahotels.org · stjamesgroup.com
Antigua Rainforest Zipline antiguarainforest.com
Jet Ski Safari, Hawksbill Bay realparadiseantigua.com