Keywords

4.1 Introduction

The Martinique-born Francophone author Édouard Glissant (1928–2011) in his 1958 work La Lézard (the Ripening) evokes a rich and powerful portrait of his Caribbean island home. For him his island is a feminine form, and replete with natural environmental metaphors detached from the colonial European plantation system (Heller, 1996). Islands lend themselves, as bounded physical entities, to characterisation in this manner (Hay, 2006). In the Caribbean, there has always been a tension between the idealised innocent ‘pre-colonial’ tropical Eden and then the rigidly controlled industrial plantation landscapes of the sugar monocultural systems (Hollsten, 2008). Then, in the post-plantation and post-colonial Caribbean world, island economies re-orientated themselves towards a new industry: tourism. With this came a reorganisation of island landscapes yet again, with the coastlines now the focus of hotel development and the countryside, historically the place of the plantation, largely becoming a rural backwater. With this move towards a tourist-based economy came other impacts on the island: infrastructure to service the beach resorts, more roads, bigger airports and leisure places—and a host of associated problematic social and economic issues that even in the post-colonial Caribbean evidence the survival of dependent colonial attitudes (Pattullo, 2005).

Another impact of this new reorientation of island space was the commodification of the remaining green spaces on the islands, preserved now as heritage zones. In Dominica, for example, this is done as a nod to the politics of the traditional land rights of the indigenous Kalinago (‘Carib’) people (Hudepohl, 2008). In the Windward Carib territory of Dominica, visitors can come and see traditional Kalinago architectural forms, taste traditional food and buy traditional and authentic Kalinago crafts. The sense that this is an elemental and ancestral landscape is stressed clearly, and it fits well with the way that Dominica markets itself as an eco-tourism destination: a place of waterfalls and tropical rain forests rather than a traditional Caribbean beach holiday (Patterson et al., 2004; Slinger-Friedman, 2009).

Similarly, Dominica is home to one of the few UNESCO Natural World Heritage properties in the Caribbean region, Morne Trois Pitons, which was inscribed in 1997. The Morne Trois Pitons National Park protects 6,857 hectares which is roughly nine per cent of Dominica’s land area. Its Outstanding Universal Value (OUV) rests in the conservation of its exceptional volcanic landscape including Boiling Lake, fumaroles, hot springs and mud holes. The National Park is also known for its biodiversity and as the only remaining refuge for the endemic critically endangered Imperial or Sisserou Parrot and vulnerable Red-Necked Parrot. A number of trails in the park are maintained and provide locals and visitors with a wealth of hiking options on the island. However, Dominica is prone to natural disaster with hurricane and volcanic hazards. In 2017, category five hurricanes Irma and Maria affected the Leewards and northern Windward Islands within days of one another. With 60 per cent of the island covered in forest, many areas were left with completely defoliated trees. Although the natural environment has recovered, there are estimates that it will take a decade for the forests to fully recover. The threat of natural disaster is yet another challenge in the protection and conservation of the region’s natural heritage, especially given the extreme weather events and disasters associated with climate change (ECPA, 2021).

Other islands have taken more international approaches to the management of their natural heritage. There are 19 UNESCO World Heritage Sites in the insular Caribbean. These sites have been defined as being having importance due to their natural heritage, cultural heritage or exhibit mixed values that make them significant. Cuba leads the way in terms of designations with nine, of which seven are cultural WHS (designated mainly by dint of their rich colonial architecture) and two are natural WHS, the National Parks of Desembarco del Granma (designated in 1999) and of Alejandro Humboldt (designated in 2001; see https://whc.unesco.org/fr/etatsparties/cu) which represent distinctive geological landscapes and eco-diversity. The important wetland site of Ciénaga de Zapata National Park and the inshore Cuban reef systems are both on the current tentative list for future inscription. More widely in the Caribbean UNESCO natural world heritage properties are represented by the Pitons in St Lucia and Morne Trois Pitons in Dominica, and tentative sites for future inscription include Inagua National Park, Bahamas, Scotland District in Barbados, Morne Diablotin National Park and Scotts Head-Soufriere Marine Park in Dominica, the Volcanic Areas of Martinique, the National Marine park of Bonaire, the La Brea Pitch Lake and the Main Ridge Forest Reserve in Trinidad and Tobago and the entirety of the British-administered islands of the Turks and Caicos. There is a single mixed natural and cultural heritage WHS in the region: the Blue and John Crow Mountains in Jamaica, inscribed in 2015.

One of the main attractions of UNESCO World Heritage property designations is the perceived potential positive impact it has on tourism. Inscription marks out a natural, cultural or mixed site as being globally significant and thus a place to visit and experience (Adie, 2017; Adie et al., 2018). The well-known branding of the designation can be used to promote the property, but also introduces stringent management demands and carries no direct financial input from UNESCO for site management (e.g. Ryan & Silvanto, 2010; Smith, 2002). There are, for example, implications for planning control in World Heritage properties and continuing debates around conservation strategies and development. In the context of the Caribbean islands, most of the focus has been on designating cultural heritage sites, but increasingly there is also pressure to inscribe natural heritage sites. Another important factor to note has been the gradual reorientation of Caribbean tourist focus away from beach holidays to more cultural or natural heritage experiences (Scher, 2011). This shift in tourist expectations/supply became increasingly evident during a workshop led by one of the present authors (NF) for selected heads of Caribbean tourism organisations in April 2020. This event centred around recognition for and promotion of heritage assets and was further reinforced by the results of a recent study commissioned by EUDiF (the European Union Global Diaspora Facility) in 2022 which examined attitudes towards cultural tourism by the Barbadian diaspora (Dickinson et al., 2022).

Heritage tourism then has more than implications for leisure and enjoyment; there are also significant educational benefits as well as offering potential to confront topical historical and political issues such as slavery, violence and colonialism (Fortenberry, 2021). Heritage tourism also diversifies the Caribbean tourism portfolio, which will be an important issue in terms of economic recovery post-COVID-19 pandemic. Island tourist boards will need to develop new, more exciting and stimulating products to sell, and natural heritage attractions will play a key part in this. Yet paradoxically, as has been reported in many other regions worldwide, the success of these strategies may cause damage to the very assets being promoted through increased development and footfall, and in addition the biggest issue of all which comes with increased visitation: impacts of climate change. Having sketched in the broad contextual picture, we now consider a series of case studies drawn from the natural heritage portfolio of the Caribbean island of Barbados.

Heritage Tourism and Barbados

Barbados has recognised the potential to develop its heritage tourism sector to help diversify the island’s tourism product. This was even more apparent during the COVID-19 pandemic when access to beach spaces and other public green spaces were at a premium with the pandemic protocols which sometimes limited their use. Moreover, ‘Welcome Stampers’ (long-stay visas for persons seeking to relocate to Barbados to live while working remotely) also desired more access to green space and the promise of more active lifestyles. The heritage sector has a long history in Barbados with several sites valued for their natural heritage stretching back into the colonial era with a nascent tourism industry as early as the eighteenth century. Certainly, a number of sites in the island have been leisure spaces for locals and visitors for quite some time including the island’s cave systems, gullies, East Coast and Animal Flower Cave. Some of these sites are protected under the Barbados National Trust founded in 1961, while others are either owned or operated privately or by government. Increasingly, UNESCO WHS branding is playing a more important part in the development of the heritage sector. Barbados currently has one UNESCO (cultural) WHS, Historic Bridgetown and the Garrison, which was inscribed in 2011. Essentially, this comprises a core of historic colonial buildings in the island’s capital city linked to the Garrison which fortified the city along the popular and scenic coastal Bay Street corridor. Two other properties are on the tentative list include the Industrial Heritage of Barbados: The Story of Sugar and Rum which is a serial nomination of plantation sites relating to the development of the sugar and rum industries; the second is a natural heritage site, Scotland District on the east side of the island. Here we find the main mountainous area of the island, it is relatively sparsely settled and not a great draw for tourists who tend to stay on the south and west coasts of the island, although there is a growing niche segment of the tourism market that is attracted to the eco-tourism attractions on the east coast of the island in boutique hotels specialising in surf vacations and health and wellness tourism.

4.2 The Tourist and Barbados

The island of Barbados is situated in the eastern Caribbean on the Atlantic side of the Windward chain (Fig. 4.1). With a surface area of 430 km2, it is one of the larger islands of the Lesser Antilles and differs from its mountainous volcanic neighbours to the west in the Windwards in having a flatter limestone topography with less forest coverage. Over 300,000 people live on the island, the vast majority being descendants of enslaved Africans, and in Caribbean terms is relatively densely populated. Ruled by England since the seventeenth century, independent from the United Kingdom since 1966, and a Republic since 2021, the island still retains a distinctive cultural identity within the wider Caribbean context. A service-based economy, relying mostly on international tourism, makes up 89 per cent of Barbados’ economic output according to the latest available 2017 figures, but the COVID-19 pandemic (2020–2022) had a negative impact on this sector and the island is now in a state of economic recovery (source for all statistics World Factbook, 2022).

Fig. 4.1
A map of the Greater Antilles highlights with the study region shaded. It is a small narrow stretch from the northwest to the southeast and an even narrower stretch from central north to the northeast.

Map of the study region (Niall Finneran)

Full size image

Historically, Barbados has always drawn large numbers of British tourists based on the island’s historic connections with the UK. Prior to 2022 there were at least two daily direct flights from the UK. The island has been perceived to offer a familiar, safe experience for the British visitor. North American visitors have also made up a significant segment of Barbados’ tourist cohort. Increasingly, the value of the Barbadian Diaspora has been recognised as a source market for tourism as emigrant Bajans and their descendants travel to and from the island regularly. Emerging tourism markets such as Africa, South America and Asia are also being explored. The regional tourism market, however, has not recovered post-COVID-19 with the failure of a number of regional air carriers and the high cost of regional travel. The island has been traditionally marketed for leisure, fun and as an ideal beach holiday destination (Jönsson & Devonish, 2008). Post-COVID-19 the island was marketed as a destination for digital nomads and remote workers under its ‘Welcome Stamp’ programme which issued long-stay visas for persons seeking to relocate to Barbados to live while working remotely. Barbados had maintained relatively low infection rates due to its border restrictions and pandemic protocols. The programme was considered a success especially at the height of the pandemic when various northern jurisdictions were still undergoing lockdowns.

In comparison with other Caribbean islands, in terms of heritage, Barbados has a wealth of historic cultural heritage which reflects the colonial plantation experience: fortifications, large plantation houses, cemeteries and also remains of enslaved Africans’ dwellings. In terms of natural heritage, however, there are no dramatic volcanic mountain ranges here, nor are there tropical rain forests, and for the most part (with the exception of the eastern Atlantic coasts) the western and southern coastlines are heavily developed. However, Barbados does have a unique limestone karst topography and is well known in geological circles for its cave systems and gullies found mostly in the interior of the island and for the unique geological formations on the East Coast. With the exception of Welchman Hall Gully and Harrison Cave, Barbados’ geology is not a huge singular attraction for visitors.

The coastline with its pristine white sand beaches is perhaps Barbados’s biggest potential draw, but there are a number of important issues with which to contend. There are huge pressures on beaches as leisure resources. Unlike in some other Caribbean territories, beaches are public and accessible to all (NCC Barbados, n.d.). As such, hotel developers cannot claim areas for the exclusive use of their own guests (Davis, 2010) beyond what is commonly known as ‘the high water mark’ (Allahar, 2015). However, across the Caribbean privatisation of beaches and private control of public land have led to accusations of high-handed neo-colonial behaviour by exclusive resorts which do not typically cater to the average Caribbean citizen (Caribbean Council, n.d.). The work of the Barbadian artist Annalee Davis (cited above) is part of a wider initiative around race and class in Barbados. Here the beach has become a politicised battleground, where issues of public access open up deep wounds from the colonial period.

Historically, beaches were considered ‘rab’ or marginal land on coastal plantations (Davis, 2010). Beaches were spaces used by fishers for boatyards. They were places where raw sewage and refuse were disposed and animals were washed. Often latrines and abattoirs were sited in close proximity to the sea so beaches were by no means considered high-value real estate. A number of cemeteries dating to the 1854 cholera epidemic are also located on or near beach accesses. In fact, beachfront land especially on the south and west coasts were the preserve of tenantries and working-class housing since workers’ access to land in Barbados was often limited due to the strict land-labour policies that followed emancipation. Planters and the elite remained in control of the majority of land resources on the island for most of the nineteenth century until the mid-twentieth century. However, with the advent of beach tourism by the 1950s and 1960s, beachfront land started to become highly prized and eventually land speculation for this resource priced many Barbadians out of the beachfront real estate market (Allahar, 2015).

Public beach access remains a ‘hot-button’ issue for Barbadians. Further privatisation of sea frontage represents their continued alienation from prime real estate which may now be owned by the local elite and foreign investors (Allahar, 2015). It is defended vociferously and if attempts are made to limit beach access they are met with widespread public protest. The outrage expressed over threats to public access of the island’s beaches are best memorialised in the popular 1982 calypso ‘Jack’ by The Mighty Gabby which recounts when the then Chair of the Barbados Board of Tourism Jack Dear wanted to initiate beach privatisation policies. Defiantly, The Mighty Gabby sang in opposition to the measures saying:

Verse

Verse Tourism vital I can’t deny but can’t mean more than I an’ I My navel string bury right here but a tourist own could be anywhere Jack don’t want me to bathe on my beach Jack tell them to keep me out of reach Jack tell them I would never make the grade Strength and security build barricade That can’t happen here in this country I want Jack to know the beach belong to we.

The song has become a protest anthem and is often incanted when public beach access is threatened. In March 2018, The Mighty Gabby performed the song on the popular Crane Beach when the Crane Beach Resort was accused of limiting vendor access to the beach (Evanson, 2018).

Increasingly, managing beach access creates conflict among several different users. Not only does the public advocate for their right to access, so do vendors and tourism operators for commercial purposes. Pre-COVID-19, there have been conflicts over beach chair rentals and commercial concessions that take up beach space creating conflicts among all users (Evanson, 2018). During the height of the COVID-19 lockdowns, the beaches were almost entirely cleared of tourist activity and associated vendor activities (Graham, 2021). Beaches, once again, became the preserve of Barbadians and local communities who used them for daily recreation within stipulated hours of use. They became a highly valued respite from stringent lockdown orders which confined most Barbadians to their homes. Post-COVID-19, tourism activity has returned, to some extent, and so have the conflicts.

Beyond beaches, there are other issues facing the seascapes of Barbados. At Folkestone Marine Reserve near Holetown on the north-western coast, the once bright and colourful coral reefs have become bleached owing to pollution and poor water quality and warming seas (Oxenford et al., 2008). Discharge of sewerage into the sea causes development of toxic algal blooms which are damaging to coral. This is an important site as it was the first marine park to be established in Barbados in 1976 under the aegis of the Marine Areas Preservation and Enhancement Act (1976). From the outset the key aims of the marine reserve were to: ‘maintain coastal and marine ecosystems in their natural state; act as an area where marine species can breed undisturbed; provide educational recreation for residents and tourist; provide a protected area where scientist and students can engage in research’ (IABIN, 2010, 7). Canada’s McGill University maintains a marine research centre at Bellairs, near to Folkestone, so the research element is still very much to the fore, but sadly the coastal and marine ecosystems have been degraded. Collaborative and community-focused work begun in 2009 to undertake long-term monitoring of the state of the reefs, but the overall picture remains concerning (University of the West Indies, 2009).

Integrated policies for the management of coastal and marine protected areas remain elusive. For a number of years, there have been signals to introduce a Barbados Marine Management Area which would see the management of Barbados’ marine resources and its users (fishers, divers, tour operators, pleasure craft owners and even beach users), but an integrated policy and authority has not yet been implemented leaving coastal areas vulnerable to overfishing and lack of conservation (Biopama, 2020). Tourism development along the island’s coastline continues to be intensive especially at sites with existing building footprints. Prior to COVID-19, coastal tourism developments were announced with much anticipation, but at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, a number of these projects stalled through a combination of the lengthy government permission process and some tourism investment disquiet as the tourism industry took the greatest hit.

It was only in late 2022 that a number of these projects are now underway. But a number of these multi-million dollar multi-storey projects are located on the vulnerable coastline potentially posing a risk to investors and the island’s environment and economy if global sea levels rise and storm surges associated with more intensive storm seasons increase. At least two of these projects have been announced in Historic Bridgetown and its Garrison—one at the site of the old Harbour Police Station (which was the island’s Lock Hospital in the nineteenth century) in Bay Street and the nearby Pier Head development which is slated to transform the eighteenth- and nineteenth-century warehouse district into a modern upscale residential condominium development targeted to local and foreign young professionals and other investors. Both have been cited for posing challenges to the unique and vulnerable coastline in those areas which could compromise nearby cultural and natural heritage (Barbados Today, 2022; Joseph, 2019).

As an island, Barbados’ coastal natural heritage is never far away from the island’s terrestrial natural heritage, and in many cases the island’s cave and gully systems are connected to coastal basins and the nearshore environment. The Graeme Hall Nature Sanctuary, for example, is the site of one of the island’s oldest intact natural wetlands and is a Ramsar protected site. As an important coastal watershed, protection of the coastal wetland system has continuously been under threat from development since it was purchased and transformed into a private conservation area by the late Peter Allard, a wealthy Canadian lawyer and philanthropist. In 2019, the wetlands faced its most urgent threat when the South Coast Sewerage Project failed sending raw sewage into the main highway along the South Coast. The overflow from the nearby primary sewage plant was directed into the swamp endangering the delicate wetlands ecosystem (Barbados Today, 2019). In a country with very few intact natural wetlands, the Graeme Hall Nature Sanctuary is in dire need of comprehensive and integrated protection and management especially as it such a key artery for the health and wellness of human populations along the coast and the health of the nearshore area. Recent announcements about the development of the nearby and related Chapman’s Swamp in St. Lawrence Gap also raises the spectre of more tourism development threats of coastal wetlands (Mahon, 2022).

The island’s few remaining wetlands and coastal mangroves have been under continuous threat from development of the island’s coastline for tourism development. In addition to coastal wetlands such as Chancery Lane and Graeme Hall Nature Sanctuary, there are also several natural and human made ‘swamps’ or ponds that have been used historically for bird-shooting. Through activism and advocacy over the last few decades, some of these swamps namely Fosters in St. Lucy and Woodbourne Shorebird Refuge in Christ Church have now been transformed into private/non-governmental bird sanctuaries where local and migratory species can drink and feed. Mounting pressure from within and outside of the bird-shooting community has forced participants to recognise the value of these spaces for avian conservation with voluntary bag limits for shooting and even the cessation of the practice altogether. But instead of allowing these habitats to dry up due to disuse, participants are being encouraged to transform them into sanctuaries.

Much of Barbados’ natural native forest cover was destroyed to make way for intensive sugar plantation development by the 1650s. Turner’s Hall Wood in St. Andrew in the Scotland District is a notable exception and is an ecological preserve with some of the best examples of endemic species on the island. The Barbados National Trust founded in 1961 operates at least two natural heritage sites: Welchman Hall Gully in St. Thomas which is part of the Harrison Cave system and Andromeda Gardens in St. Joseph which was gifted to the Trust in 1988 in the will of well-known horticulturalist Iris Bannochie. Both sites provide locals and visitors an accessible trail through the island’s forested and in the case of Andromeda, landscaped, natural heritage (Carrington, 2011). Other similar sites on the island are owned/operated privately such as the Flower Forest and Coco Hill in St. Thomas and Hunte’s Gardens in St. Joseph. These sites are heavily dependent on tourism for their maintenance and during the COVID-19 pandemic many struggled to remain open (Madden, 2022). In addition to managing the island’s beaches and parks, the National Conservation Commission (NCC) also operates a number of parks and open spaces such as Farley Hill National Park and Barclay’s Park which is part of the larger Barbados National Park System on the East Coast.

Although there have been announcements endorsing and even launching the Barbados National Park system, little has been done to implement the policies required to manage the system (Nation News, 2010). Through a combination of both private and public initiatives to conserve the island’s terrestrial natural heritage, there is still a lack of comprehensive and integrated public policy to help govern its use and future development. Land planning policies may be in place through the Barbados Physical Development Plan (PDP) and other planning instruments. But more can be done to protect these resources. The Barbados National Park system and possible protection and management through the UNESCO World Heritage Tentative List nomination for the Scotland District could provide some of the properties sited in these areas to achieve integrated protection and management (Fig. 4.2).

Fig. 4.2
A photo of a swamp with dense vegetation and a small hut-shaped pavilion at a distance in the back.

Graeme Hall Swamp, southern Barbados: relic wetland, Ramsar site, bird sanctuary and tourist draw (Niall Finneran)

Full size image

4.3 Conclusion

The foregoing discussion has outlined some of the key issues facing the management of the natural landscape one of the major Caribbean islands. Barbados is, in context, one of the wealthier Caribbean islands with a relatively good public infrastructure and a stable democracy. This is not the case for a number of other often smaller islands. In these smaller islands, economic pressures have translated into overdevelopment of tourist infrastructure without attending to the basic needs of sustainability and impact on the environment. While a large hotel development may provide many direct and indirect jobs, there is always the possibility of the downside: increased traffic, pollution and strain on already overstretched services. Tourism strategies need to be sustainable, cost-effective and environmentally friendly. Tourism, always a mainstay of the Caribbean economy, is close to recovering to pre-pandemic levels, and many islands are seeking to diversify their tourism profile.

One of the current authors (NF) devised and delivered a training session for a number of representatives of the Caribbean island tourism boards in 2020 on behalf of the Caribbean tourism organisation, and this message came through clearly. Heritage tourism, natural and cultural, is the way forward. The argument was however that this vision has to be thought through carefully, integratively considered in policy-making, and above all, be community led. Already we are seeing the impact of overdevelopment and rampant tourism on a number of Caribbean islands, and any measures taken of course have to balance the social, economic and cultural need of the island community and the fragile landscapes they inhabit. Leadership here from academics, both of local and international influence, is important. Given that there is a dearth of what we would term professional local practitioners working on the management of natural heritage in the Caribbean, the involvement of local community groups as practitioners in their own right also becomes important. The emphasis should be upon cross-fertilisation of ideas, sustainability and teamwork and an awareness of the emotional attachment to place and space in these fragile and exploited Caribbean island settings.