Anse Chastenet
They don’t come along very often, but every once in a while some of us are fortunate enough to become involved with a project that redefines what watershaping is all about. St. Lucia’s Jade Mountain was one of those remarkable opportunities, and no matter how long I’ll be in this business, I’m certain there will never be another project quite like this one. For starters, it stands as perhaps the most extensive and spectacular all-time use of the vanishing edge – ever, anywhere – all set in one of the most unusual buildings ever imagined for a resort property in a location that is almost indescribably beautiful. The brainchild of architect/owner Nick Troubetzkoy, Jade Mountain is
I first came to St. Lucia in 1970 to work for a Canadian architectural firm based on the island. As it has turned out, I never left. The beauty of St. Lucia’s landscapes, the warmth and character of its people and the unlimited potential to create something very special here captured my imagination. It’s a Caribbean paradise one must experience personally to fully appreciate and understand. When I first encountered the property that is now home to Anse Chastanet and Jade Mountain in 1974, there was almost nothing here – a handful of small bungalows nestled in the rainforest across maybe five acres of land. Amenities included four aluminum umbrellas and four plastic lounge chairs on the sand, and there was a lady who sat at the bottom of the stairs leading to the beach. She had a cooler filled with Cokes and a bottle of local rum, enabling you to enjoy the beautiful setting and have a drink. But the occupancy rate was very low and nothing about the place beyond the setting would make
