In 1952, American philanthropist Laurance Rockefeller docked on the shores of St. John and was instantly taken by the island’s lush beauty—a tangle of tropical forest, dense mangroves, and turquoise bays, with nary a car or road in sight. Convinced it was one of the most beautiful places he’d ever seen, Rockefeller purchased 5,000 acres of the 12,500-acre island, later donating the land to the U.S. government for the creation of what would become the nation’s 29th national park.
Since then, St. John—the smallest of the three major U.S. Virgin Islands—has been shorthand for hushed exclusivity and barefoot glamour, luring the likes of Taylor Swift, Harrison Ford, and Michael Bloomberg. And it’s only trending upward: the Ritz-Carlton Yacht Collection drops anchor here as of this year, and new hideaways like the one- and two-bedroom villas at the high-end Lovango Resort Beach Club, the beachfront Wharfside Village Hotel, or the bohemian, budget-friendly Flamingo House are giving travelers fresh reasons to visit.
But ask a native Virgin Islander or a longtime resident, and they’ll tell you St. John’s allure has little to do with celebrity sightings or posh overnights. Much like Puerto Rico, life here is as much shaped by postcard-perfect beaches as periodic blackouts, weathered infrastructure, and the strange paradox of citizenship without full rights (residents of the U.S. Virgin Islands still can’t vote in U.S. presidential elections, nor do they have voting representation in Congress). Perhaps because of this, locals and transplants alike have developed an uncommonly strong sense of community, working together to protect the island’s natural resources, champion West Indian culinary traditions, and tell a fuller story of colonization and resistance. What emerges is an island on the rise, one that rewards travelers willing to move past the postcard to find real connection and a deeper, more authentic sense of place.
“I remember the filmmaker Peter Bailey coming to the island in the aftermath of hurricanes Irma and Maria to document the disaster and the community response,” recalls Virgin Islander Dr. Hadiya Sewer, an Africana philosopher and community advocate whose family history on St. John dates back to the 17th century. “He saw all the organizing happening and proclaimed there was a Virgin Islands renaissance underway. Now, I think he’s absolutely right.”
Through her work with the St. John Heritage Collective (St. JanCo), Dr. Sewer is helping preserve the island’s cultural identity—particularly that of families whose ancestry predates the 1917 American purchase of the U.S. Virgin Islands from Denmark and the 1956 establishment of the Virgin Islands National Park. Her initiative has scored major wins, from greater visibility at the St. John Arts Festival to public radio programs and town hall conversations that center Virgin Islander voices. St. JanCo is part of a broader movement to bring storytelling to the island’s most visited sites, ensuring that visitors understand the history beneath the beauty.
On Ram Head Trail—a popular out-and-back hike offering panoramic views of the Caribbean and Atlantic—a new plaque unveiled in 2024 commemorates St. John’s 1733 slave uprising. It tells the story of the Akwamu people—originally from present-day Ghana—who launched one of the earliest and longest revolts in the Americas (decades before the Haitian Revolution), seizing the Danish fort at Coral Bay and holding much of the island for months before French forces regained control. Facing recapture, several freedom fighters committed ritual suicide at the Ram Head in April 1734. While Virgin Islands National Park has long been reluctant to acknowledge the island’s past—the National Park Service was established during the administration of Woodrow Wilson, whose racist and segregationist policies shaped the public institution for much of the 20th century—the commemorative plaque encourages visitors to reckon with the fight for freedom that took place here almost 300 years ago.
While many travelers flock to the hiking trails and pristine beaches of the Virgin Islands National Park, which covers about two-thirds of the island, the St. John Land Conservancy is working to protect natural landscapes and bolster climate resiliency beyond the park’s boundaries. The group’s outsized impact is a testament to its passionate team, comprising retired university professors, former Nature Conservancy and Audubon Society staffers, the Virgin Islander environmental activist Olasee Davis, and hotelier Matt Snider, whose family owns the private-island Lovango Resort Beach Club just offshore, among others. Negotiating directly with landowners to bring privately held land into community use, The St. John Land Conservancy has successfully reclaimed parcels of land on Haulover Bay and on the eastern tip of Lovango Cay. Now, the 14-year-old organization is urgently seeking support to purchase 20 acres on the island’s eastern end at Pond Bay—one of the last remaining stretches of undeveloped shoreline outside the national park—pointing to its critical influence.
Snider, the director of operations at Lovango Resort Beach Club, sensed early on how vital civic life is to St. John. His family’s Little Gem Resorts portfolio includes The Nantucket Hotel Resort and Winnetu Oceanside Resort on Martha’s Vineyard, and when they bought Lovango’s 42-acre property in 2019, just months before the pandemic, they did something unconventional. He explains that with a normal hotel opening, the focus is on getting the rooms up and running before adding restaurants and amenities. “But we wanted to meet people first and get community feedback, so we started with a restaurant and beach club before getting around to the rooms—which is a backwards financial approach, but the right thing to do,” he says. Fast-forward to 2025, and Lovango has become one of the Caribbean’s leading semi-private island resorts, with luxury treehouses, glamping tents, oceanfront villas, and a just-opened “Gym in the Jungle” workout space—plus sustainable community initiatives like a coral reef restoration project in partnership with the University of Virgin Islands and guided hikes hosted by the St. John Land Conservancy.
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One of Snider’s proudest achievements is the Taste of Lovango food festival, held at the resort every May and now entering its fourth edition, which draws chefs from across the Virgin Islands, Puerto Rico, Hawaii, and beyond for three days of beach cookouts, prix-fixe dinners, and cocktail-making demos. “We’re involved in food festivals in Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard,” he says, “but we were really excited to create this food festival from scratch, partnering with territory-based chefs, businesses, and celebrating Caribbean flavors.”
Among the St. John–based chefs who’ve participated in the festival is Chicago-born Vinny Alterio, who trained at The Peninsula Chicago and worked alongside Gordon Ramsay and Christina Tosi before arriving on the island in 2014. In June 2024, after several years running a successful catering company, Alterio opened STJ Speakeasy, an open-air restaurant in Cruz Bay serving shareable, globally inspired fare with a Caribbean twist—dishes like spiced oxtail arancini, ceviche with roasted pineapple salsa and plantain tostones, and pan-seared lobster dumplings with ginger and sunflower shoots. Just down the road, the newly revamped St. John Wine Shop offers an expert selection of international bottles curated by Canadian-born Victoria Theriault, paired with creative dishes and bar snacks by Korean chef Gary Kim (think: ceviche tostadas with local grouper and passionfruit nước chấm).
“Our food scene has become so much more robust,” says Dr. Sewer. “There was a time when it was hard to find local food that wasn’t American food—it was kind of heartbreaking.”
To sample authentic Virgin Island flavors like conch stew, salt fish, and fungi (a cornmeal-based dumpling made with okra, salt, and butter), she recommends stopping by Hillside Terrace in Cruz Bay, before closing out the night at the recently reopened Mooie’s Bar, an Afro-Caribbean institution founded in 1956 by Virgin Islander senator Theovald E. “Mooie” Moorhead and now run by his daughter, the artist and filmmaker Theodora Moorehead. The rum punch is still the island’s best; now, there are fresh wall murals by Theodora and a covetable collection of fashion-forward merch that might just be the island’s coolest souvenir.
What many of the best tables on St. John have in common? Fresh produce from the island’s 18-acre Coral Bay Organic Farm and Garden Center, founded more than 30 years ago by Hugo and Josephine Roller in the Carolina Valley. The couple met in Malaysia in the mid-1980s—he was there studying organic farming techniques, she was an agricultural engineer managing large plantations—and after falling in love, they moved to St. John to start their business. Decades later, they’re still at it, juggling bureaucracy and chef wish-lists to cut the freshest mixed greens, kales, herbs, and arugulas. It remains one of the rare examples of organic farming on this scale in the U.S. Virgin Islands.
“With the costs of land rising astronomically in recent years, the competition for use continues to marginalize agriculture as an economic activity,” says Hugo, pointing to the island’s long, layered history: under Danish rule, sugarcane monoculture crowded out food crops; after the 1917 transfer to U.S. governance, mainland imports became the norm, further sidelining small farmers. Still, the couple carries on, driven by their passion for organic agriculture and their love for the local community. Eventually, they hope to open an on-site agritourism project, giving guests front-door access to their gardens—if, that is, their permit ever gets approved.
While change can be slow to come on St. John, Dr. Sewer stays focused by centering herself in her activism and showing up for community events at cultural venues like Bajo El Sol Gallery, where exhibitions spotlight local talent, including the late woodcarver Avelino Samuel, a Virgin Islander whose work features at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C.
Nature, too, is a constant source of renewal. “I’ll go boating with friends, salt-picking on Salt Pond Bay, or spend the day at the beach,” she says. “To know and love this place is also to embrace a slower, more sustainable pace of life.”