My wife’s family has been going down to this beautiful little island since the early ’70s. Her great-grandparents, originally from Cuba, spent a winter sailing around the Caribbean in search of an island that reminded them of home. They landed on the west coast of Barbados.
Photography by Jesse JoeckelAnd though they are no longer with us, their daughters have been keeping up the tradition for decades. Lucky for me, I have been able to join the past few years and hope to continue the tradition. A standout trip this year, with several fun days of surf on the fickle west coast, which keeps us close the fam and the wife gets all the peeling turquoise lefts she wants. Happy wife happy life.
If the surf is flat on the west side I hop in the Suzuki Jimny rental (gotta get one of these in Montauk somehow) and head across the island to the east side as the sun comes up. A 30th birthday celebration brought in a solid crew from back home this year, and we lucked out with more than a handful of well overhead days (and then some) on the Atlantic side.
We’d have a lunch break and debate over what local beer was more delicious, Banks or Deputy. We would come to the consensus that after getting barreled for a few hours all beer is equally as good as the next.