In Depth

Excavations suggest St. Maarten was settled around 2,500 years ago by American Indian Arawaks. Christopher Columbus sighted the island during his second voyage in November 1493, naming it without setting foot on land. The Spaniards couldn't spare the expense of military maintenance after several devastating European wars, so they literally abandoned it in 1648, enabling opportunistic French and Dutch settlers from, respectively, St. Kitts and St. Eustatius, to claim the island. After initial skirmishes, mostly political, the two nations officially settled their differences later that year. Even so, St. Maarten changed hands 16 times before it became permanently Dutch, while the French side endured the usual colonial tugs-of-war through the Napoleonic era. Alas, there appears to be no truth to the colorful legend of a wine-drinking Frenchman and gin-guzzling Dutchman walking the island to determine the border.

The French side (currently governed from Guadeloupe though it has petitioned for its separate status) remains quieter, more subtly European: a tropic St. Tropez. White stucco houses adorned with flowerpots and red-tile roofs cling to sapphire coves, the inimitable scent of galettes and Gauloises hanging in the air. Police officers wear kepis, towns have names like Colombier and Orléans, and the French flag flies over the gendarmerie in Marigot, the capital. Advocates cite French St. Martin as more sophisticated, prosperous, stylish, and cosmopolitan than its fellow départements d'outre-mer, Guadeloupe and Martinique.

The pace on Dutch St. Maarten resembles a frat party by comparison, with neon-accented action at its casinos and clubs. Both sides offer watersports aplenty, superb dining (you'll find not just some of the finest French fare outside La Belle France, but everything from rigatoni to rijstaffel), and duty-free shopping.

And underneath that splashy shell beats the heart of the islands' African roots. They emerge in the snatch of a racy reggae ditty along a street; in the brightly colored shirts and shifts that replace the crisp starched school uniforms at a weekend picnic; in the spices that enliven the local cuisine; in Carnival's colorful jambalaya of sights, sounds, and smells.

It all adds up to a tale of two nations that offers the best of both worlds: activity and leisure. If you're seeking fun in the sun, even R&R à deux, they fit the bill.

Recommended Books, Films & Music -- The Caribbean has produced numerous fine authors, including Nobel Prize laureate Derek Walcott (St. Lucia), V. S. Naipaul (Trinidad), Anthony Winkler (Jamaica), Jean Rhys (Dominica), and Jamaica Kincaid (Antigua). Alas, none of the three islands in this book boast noted native writers. But there are a few literal "beach" reads worth mentioning. The Captain's Fund (Resource Power Publishing) by Raina Wissing Harris, a very purple "romance suspense" novel of murder, heiresses-in-distress, and black market diamonds is notable for its St. Maarten/St. Martin setting with such familiar landmarks as Friar's Beach Café, the Horny Toad Guesthouse, and Joe's Jewelry International. St. Martin inspired celebrity chef/author Anthony Bourdain's Gone Bamboo (Villard/Bloomsbury USA).

Melinda and Bob Blanchard's A Trip to the Beach: Living on Island Time in the Caribbean (Clarkson Potter/Three Rivers Press) is the true-life restaurateurs' hilarious yet sympathetic, ungarnished version of Herman Wouk's riotous fictional account of an American hotelier in the Antilles, Don't Stop the Carnival. The Blanchards' most recent guide is Changing Your Course: The 5-Step Guide to Getting the Life You Want (Sterling). Murder in St. Barts (Beachfront Publishing) is a passable Gendarme Trenet novel by J. R. Ripley (note that teasing last name, mystery aficionados), better known for the Tony Kozol whodunits. Jimmy Buffet's Tales from Margaritaville (Fawcett Books) offers fictional short stories of West Indian life, many based on his years of St. Barts residency.