Dominica is a relatively unknown island nation in the Caribbean. Many even confuse it with the Dominican Republic. Those who know it usually associate it with volcanic beaches, waterfalls and hot springs. The island is green, humid and wild. Few realise, however, that you can also do proper mountain hiking here — in terrain that can challenge even an experienced hiker.
My stay on Braňo’s catamaran was coming to an end. All that remained was to put a proper full stop on this trip. For some time I had been eyeing the island’s highest peak on the map. That peak is Morne Diablotins, which reaches a height of 1 447 metres. Although Morne Diablotins is not the highest peak in the entire Caribbean, within the Lesser Antilles it is among the most prominent, and its very name suggests that it probably won’t be a walk in the park.
My proposal to conquer it — somewhat suspiciously — was met with the support of the entire crew. A decision was made and the next morning we’re already getting into the car and driving along the island’s west coast to the town of Portsmouth. Before reaching it, however, we turn right at the right place and head into the local hills. At first the paved road slowly but surely gains altitude, later turning into gravel, but still easily passable. In a moment we’re at the place where the trail called Morne Diablotin Trail begins.
Name
The mountain’s name comes from French — „morne“ denotes a wooded hill or peak, which is a common name in the Caribbean for volcanic hills, and „diablotins“ means „little devils“. So it could be freely translated as „Peak of the Little Devils“.
Devilishness in practice
We sort of suspected from the start that it would be quite a „devilish” affair. After all, the sign at the start of the trail warns that it’s advisable to start the hike with a sufficient time buffer. Reality, however, was even more demanding than we could have imagined.
Basically the entire ascent leads through dense, overgrown jungle. If that wasn’t enough, the whole trail was completely soaked and turned into endless mud. After a few minutes we have mud everywhere. And when I say everywhere, I mean really everywhere.
Every step is unsure. Every slip means another layer of mud on your trousers, hands or backpack. And if you happen to try to grab the surrounding plants to stop yourself from falling, you’ll quickly find out that it wasn’t the best idea. Many of them may look like ordinary trees, but their surfaces are covered with small, sharp thorns. Proper gloves would definitely come in handy here.
The higher, the more beautiful
With increasing altitude the atmosphere changes. The air is noticeably cooler and the jungle gradually begins to open up.
From time to time views appear between the trees that are worth all the effort. Below us the island gradually spreads out almost in its entirety — green, wild and surrounded by the Caribbean Sea.
A dog where you’d least expect it
As if that wasn’t enough, halfway up a stray dog catches up with us. He appeared out of nowhere; nobody knew exactly where he came from. He immediately joined us and bravely continued the route with us. He stayed with us almost to the summit. Without hesitation, without complaining. Maybe he was more used to this jungle than we were.
In the end, however, he couldn’t overcome one of the tougher steep sections. Since we had no idea what still awaited us on the trail, we didn’t want to carry him any further in our arms unnecessarily. We say goodbye to him and each of us goes our own way.
Summit in sight
In the final part of the trail, however, a turning point comes. Firstly, the weather changes and further views begin to be shrouded in thick fog. That could still be endured. The problem is the trail — it gradually disappears. The jungle is reclaiming what was probably built here by the British during their rule over the island.
Just to give you an idea — the growth here is extremely dense and the route leads through small trees resembling mountain pine. Their branches obviously haven’t been trimmed for years and grow over the trail. Progress is basically only possible by constantly crawling or stepping over branches.
There are also often places where the trail completely disappears. We climb on the local vegetation, but it sometimes gives way under our feet by as much as half a metre. Watching my watch, I see that some short sections — maybe 50 metres — take us 10 to 15 minutes.
After a relatively long struggle we suddenly find ourselves on an elevated spot marked by a stone. According to the map this is probably a boundary point that separates the island’s „districts“. For a moment we think we might even be on the summit itself, but the map contradicts this theory.
According to it the summit is approximately 100 metres away as the crow flies — and maybe only ten vertical metres. On paper a negligible distance. For a moment the wind picks up and the rolling fog reveals a spot a little higher, really just a bit away from us. We understand that we haven’t yet conquered the summit. It is only a short distance away, but in this terrain it feels terribly far.
Attempting the summit in reality would mean another hour of fighting through dense growth without a clear route. If we’d set out on the hike at least an hour earlier it might have made sense, but our time was gradually running short. Sunset was approaching and we really didn’t want to descend in the dark. In the end we decided to turn back.
It’s not a complete victory, but not a defeat either. In any case, Morne Diablotins made it clear who was the boss here.
At the same time I send this message to the local residents: tidy up that trail a bit. You have a nice hill, it would be a shame to let it completely overgrow.
Drone over Dominica’s highest peak
Towards the end of the day the sky clears a little. I launch the drone and from above I manage to capture the entire massif of the mountain. From above it is even clearer how wild and inaccessible this part of the island is.
The bird’s-eye photograph is a symbolic full stop to this ascent. Even though we didn’t stand directly on the highest point, the experience was powerful and authentic.
Return in the dark
We return to the car already in the dark. We cover the last metres in silence, tired, muddy, but satisfied.
To illustrate the degree of muddiness, a photo is taken that could easily be used in an ad for an extreme laundry detergent.
This is what the crown of my stay on this island looks like. Not a perfect summit, but a raw, real adventure in Dominica’s jungle.