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Salines d’Orient: Come Explore the French Salt Pond

American University of the Caribbean, Caribbean, Expats, Expats and TCKs, International Travel, Nature, Saint Martin/ Sint Maarten, Spouses Organization, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Visit a pond on Saint Martin and find out how beautiful they are! There are plenty of beaches in Saint Martin, but many people forget to appreciate the ponds. The ponds are just as significant to the well-being of the island; while they don’t draw in tourists to sustain the island financially, they do sustain much of the island’s wildlife. The Salt Pond on the French side– better known as Salines d’Orient– is a wonderful place to visit. Here’s how to get there and why you should go.

Why go to Salines d’Orient: 

Unlike the Dutch side’s Great Salt Pond, the smaller French version has not been polluted beyond recognition. This makes it a wonderful place to explore and enjoy. You may never have known it, but there are lots of walking and jogging paths criss-crossing the area behind Le Galion Bay and Orient Bay. In fact, the Le Galion Bay area is completely filled with paths! They have recently received the excellent addition of  an obstacle course, too, but that it a post for another time.

The second reason to enjoy the Salines d’Orient is that it will give you an appreciation for nature and the ecosystems within the pond. Here, all humanity seems to melt away. There’s nothing to see but the gentle ripples of the water, nothing to hear but the crashing of the waves on the tide pools behind you and the occasional call of a marine bird. Behind the pond, mist rises off the mountains, creating the perfect backdrop. You’re nearly convinced that you’ve traveled backwards in time four hundred years, and that you may meet an Arawak gatherer at any moment. This is a beautifully untouched place.


St Martin Canoe Surfing at Le Galion Beach – $69.99
from: Viator

It’s no secret that the ponds on Saint Martin are in big trouble– just look at the Great Salt Pond and other ponds that are threatened by development. Perhaps one of the reasons that these ponds have been polluted is that not enough people recognized their value. Go and see the Salines d’Orient for yourself, and take your children so they can love it and protect it tomorrow. Maybe someday, it will be a protected wetlands area like Mullet Pond. 

I was recently informed by Seagrape Tours that this pond is already a protected wetlands area! Hive five, French side. By the way, after hearing from Seagrape tours, I checked out their website and they give bird watching tours in this area of the island. Pretty cool.

How to get to the Salines d’Orient:

It’s really easy to find the Salines d’Orient. Here’s how to get there:

  • Drive to Le Galion Beach on the French side, just south of Orient Bay Beach.

  • Park. Make sure you park within the gate, not in the sandy lot before the gate. That’s for surfers or boaters generally and it’s further away.
  • Instead of going to the beach, walk to the far end of the parking lot. You’ll see a trail going into the trees.

  • Take the trail. You should pass a sit-up bench.

 


St Martin Supsquatch Surfing at Le Galion Beach – $59.00
from: Viator

  • Turn left.
  • Follow the trail to the pond, which is just to the north of the beach. There’s a path that goes right past it. It’s so lonely and deserted!

Walk around, look for wildlife, and skip stones. Revel in the natural beauty!

Don’t forget to check out the tide pools and the waves crashing against the rocks at the coast while you’re there. It’s not exactly a beach, but it’s a wonderful way to witness the power of the sea.


St. Maarten Combo Tour: Butterfly Farm and Orient Bay – $55.99
from: Viator

As always, pack out your trash and be respectful. The ponds are the island’s heritage, and we need them for our grand children to enjoy one day.

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This is the Life!

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Island jeep, surfboards, tropical French countryside. This is the Caribbean life, and we love living it.

Most days are filled with studying for my husband, Ben and his friend Matt. They work hard at medical school, and were both selected as teacher’s assistants in Anatomy for good grades. Their life mainly consists of flashcards, lectures, and tests. But there are days, the best days, when they have a free afternoon.

This is one of those days. As we usually do when Ben and Matt have a break, we wax down our surfboards and get ready to ride the waves.

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We’re rolling down the road with the Caribbean trade winds tousling our hair. Matt’s new (make that old– really, really old) jeep is topless, and I’m amazed to realize how much more I notice without walls and windows to restrict my view of the sights around me. I’m feeling a little squished in the back seat with the surfboards taking up most of the space, but there’s no way to feel claustrophobic in this open jeep. I cling to the side for dear life and lean out of the car a little, enjoying the breeze and the floral scents around me. I jump back a little as a motorcyclist, breaking the world record for the longest wheelie ever held, goes zipping by us on the center line.

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I look behind me, where the wall of foaming water is raging toward me. I feel a little vulnerable way out here in the middle of the water on my board, but my nervousness turns to adrenaline as I face front and paddle like a maniac. I feel the foam first, hear the roar of energized water, and then I’m shooting forward like a rocket. I gather my wits and push myself up to my feet. I balance myself and smile. The reef below me seems to rush below my board. The wave slows suddenly, and the board drops away beneath my feet. I’m plunged into the warm tropical waters below, and I come up coughing and gasping and ready for more.

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I’m in the back seat of the jeep again. It’s a terrifying yet exhilarating experience, sitting in this little island car with no seat belt and barely any seat, for that matter. But I love it. Up the road we go– people, houses, and animals seem to fly by. Ben and Matt joke that driving here is like a video game; you have to dodge the pedestrians, potholes, cars and animals that jump out in front of you at every turn. I watch as the scenery around us changes. We go through the hills, where the goats and cows chew lazily, watching the flurry of human activity on the road. We go past little houses, painted powder blue and pink with neat, white trim. We zip through Grand Case, where women in bright dresses and men with dreads chat in French on the porches of stores and cafes. We crawl through the traffic of Marigot, inching past quaint 19th-century storefronts. Ahead, we’ll pass the oceanfront neighborhoods of the rich and famous.

I bite into the heavenly sweetness of a peach brioche. Stopping at Seraphina’s, our favorite French patisserie, is a surf day tradition for the three of us. Ben and Matt opted for chocolate twists, their usual favorite. We watch the boats on Marigot’s docks bob up and down in the water. In the distance, Anguilla’s long coastline hides the horizon, where the sun will soon set on our afternoon of freedom.

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