Caribbean by yacht: Ilma, Ritz-Carlton Yacht Collection — Trip Report

Overview

Ilma is the second yacht of the Ritz-Carlton Yacht Collection, in service since 2024: 224 suites, every one with a terrace, and a ship small enough to anchor off a bay and run its own tenders in. This was the Christmas sailing out of San Juan on 21 December: Virgin Gorda, Antigua, St. Lucia for Christmas Eve, a day at sea on Christmas Day, St. Barthélemy, then St. John in the US Virgin Islands, and back into San Juan on the 28th, seven nights after boarding. The night before the ship is in the San Juan report, and St. Barths has its own. This one is about the ship and the islands in between.

The ship

Ilma is 790 feet of dark hull and white decks, and she carries 224 suites, which is the whole point of her. Ritz-Carlton built her as the second yacht of the collection, after Evrima, and put her in service in 2024. Every suite opens onto its own terrace, most of the upper decks are open to the sky, and with the ship full there are fewer than 450 guests aboard. At that size she does what a cruise ship cannot: anchor in a bay under the Pitons or off a beach in the Virgin Islands, put her own tenders in the water, and stay late where it is worth staying: in St. Barths she did not sail until eleven at night. In Antigua, alongside three big ships at the pier, she was the small one by a long way.

The welcome at the gangway is the crest on a dark wall and a vase of flowers, and then the thing that sets the Ritz-Carlton apart from the other cruise lines: you are walked straight to your suite. There is no lounge to wait in while the rooms are readied; yours is ready, with a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, a box of chocolates and a card that reads “for a journey worthy of you”. On the Christmas sailing something arrived most days after that: a gift from Bvlgari, a woven fan in its dust bag with a handwritten note; ginger candies the chef made after Dumi, our suite ambassador, noticed I get motion sickness; a panettone, a chocolate ornament and a travel backgammon set on Christmas Eve; canelés from the kitchen under a glass dome. Whether that is the holiday week or every week, I can’t say.

The terrace is the room that matters. It is where the island comes up in the morning and where the anchorage goes gold before dinner, and on a ship this size nobody is looking down on it from ten decks above.

We were in a Grand Suite, and it is the one thing I would tell you to spend on. You come in down a passage of your own, past a dressing table, to a living room that seats more than the two of us and a dining table by the window beyond it; the bathroom has a walk-in shower in marble. On a week aboard the extra room is what you actually live in. Worth the upgrade.

The days have a rhythm. Each evening at turndown a card for the next port is left on the bed, with the day’s activities, the tender arrangements and the breakfast order hanger beside it, so you know the shape of tomorrow before you sleep. She is at anchor by breakfast and the tenders run to shore and back all day, so the wait for one is a few minutes at most; at every landing the crew put up a tent with chairs and shade, so those minutes are spent sitting down rather than standing on a dock. When the water allows, the marina platform at the stern folds down with kayaks and paddleboards and a ladder into the sea. One day the crew set up a basketball court on the foredeck, which tells you how much open deck there is for 224 suites. Up top it is loungers and umbrellas with that day’s island behind them; below, the spa has a relaxation room of loungers behind gauze curtains, and the quiet to go with it. Dinner is wherever you like and whenever the day ashore ends: there is no assigned seating and no set time, and of the restaurants only Seta su Ilma, Fabio Trabocchi’s tasting menu, carries a fee. There is also a cigar room, the Humidor, with a cabinet of aged Scotch and whiskey poured at an additional cost.

The crew are the other half of it. With this many of them and this few of us, they knew our names by the second day, which is how a cocktail turned up in the Living Room bar on Christmas Eve with those names stencilled on the foam. Dumi, our suite ambassador, set the standard for the week: he noticed things before we had said them, the motion sickness among them, and dealt with them without being asked. The refrigerator in the suite was stocked with the drinks we actually drink, and my champagne was sealed with a stopper between glasses so it never went flat.

The Ritz-Carlton Yacht Collection crest on a dark wall above a vase of red and white flowers — The welcome at the gangway: the crest and a vase of flowers.

The passage into the Grand Suite, a dressing table on one side and the dining table and terrace ahead — The Grand Suite: the passage in past the dressing table, the dining table and the terrace ahead.

The Grand Suite living room, sofa and armchair around a marble table, the screen on the wall showing a welcome by name — The Grand Suite living room, and the screen that has your names on it when you walk in.

A walk-in shower in marble in the Grand Suite bathroom, rain head and hand shower with the amenities in a niche — The walk-in shower in the Grand Suite bathroom, in marble.

An open box of glossy chocolates on a table in the suite, a card and a small vase of flowers behind — A box of chocolates and a bottle of champagne waiting in the suite on boarding.

A Bvlgari gift laid out on a white bed: an orange box, a handwritten card, a woven straw fan and a dust bag, a Ritz-Carlton Yacht Collection bag behind — A gift from Bvlgari on the bed: a woven fan in its dust bag, and a handwritten note.

Grey loungers under white umbrellas on the top deck, the hills of St. John's, Antigua, behind — Loungers under the umbrellas on the top deck, Antigua behind.

Steve in a cap at a table on deck in the sun, glasses of water and menus in front of him — Lunch at the Observation Terrace.

Jeannie smiling on deck in a straw hat and sunglasses — Enjoying the sun deck.

Cushioned loungers behind sheer curtains in the ship's spa relaxation room — The relaxation room in the spa, loungers behind gauze curtains.

The deck directory on the screen in a lift, listing the venues on each of the ship's decks — The deck directory in the lift: ten decks, and what is on each.

Inside the ship's tender on the way in, passengers in the seats ahead and the island through the windows — The tender in, from the back seat.

Virgin Gorda

The first call. The Baths are the reason most people come: a national park at the south end of the island where granite boulders the size of houses sit on the beach and in the shallows, with a trail that threads between and under them. Lunch, arranged ahead with the Rosewood, was at the Reef House, the beachfront restaurant at Little Dix Bay, at a table on the sand with the tender at the dock behind us; the bay is a long crescent of pale sand with green hills at each end and hardly anyone on it. We saw the resort only from its beach and its restaurant, and that was enough to put it on the list: we want to go back to Little Dix Bay for a stay of its own. Back on board that evening there were ginger candies from the chef and a handwritten note: Dumi had noticed that I get motion sickness and had the kitchen make them. They were the best ginger candies I have had.

Rounded granite boulders with hollows in them, under trees, at The Baths — The granite boulders at The Baths.

A navy Ritz-Carlton Yacht Collection tent with chairs in the shade at the tender landing on Virgin Gorda, guests waiting beside it — The tent at the tender landing on Virgin Gorda: chairs and shade for the few minutes between boats.

The crescent of Little Dix Bay from the wooden steps, green hills behind — Little Dix Bay from the wooden steps.

Little Dix Bay from the rocks at the end of the beach, clouds over the green hill — Little Dix Bay from the rocks at the end of the beach.

The Reef House sign under palms at Rosewood Little Dix Bay, the sea beyond — The Reef House at Rosewood Little Dix Bay.

Steve and Jeannie at a wooden table on the sand at the Reef House, the tender at the dock and yachts on the water behind — Lunch at the Reef House.

Jeannie seated under a timber pavilion above the turquoise bay at Little Dix Bay — Under the pavilion at Little Dix Bay.

A plate of ginger candies beside a handwritten card from the crew on a dark table — Ginger candies from the chef, with a note from Dumi, after the day in Virgin Gorda.

Antigua

St. John’s, the capital of Antigua, is a cruise port, and on the day we were in the pier had three big ships along it; Ilma was the small one, and the town had the crowds to match. It was our least favourite stop, and the lesson is ours rather than the island’s: this was the day to book an excursion out of town, and we did not. The cathedral on the hill above the town is worth the walk: a stone church with its whole interior encased in wood, pews and gallery and columns, so that it feels like the inside of a ship. The rest of the morning went on the top deck with the hills behind. It also made the case for the rest of the week: most of what the Ritz-Carlton does with a ship this size is anchor where the big ones cannot, and the difference is plain the one day it does not.

The wooden interior of the cathedral in St. John's: pews, columns and a gallery all in polished wood — The wooden interior of the cathedral in St. John’s.

St. Lucia, Christmas Eve

Soufrière is the anchorage: a bay under rainforest mountains with the town along the shore and the two Pitons a couple of miles to the south. Ilma anchored off and the tenders ran to the town dock; from there a speedboat took us round the point to Sugar Beach, the resort that sits on the sand between the Pitons, for the day. The boat is a water taxi for hire, and the concierge on board arranges it; ask the day before. As at Little Dix Bay, I had arranged lunch with the resort ahead of time. Thatched umbrellas, a white beach, lunch under the palms, and Petit Piton straight up behind them. Back on board in the evening the Christmas gifts were in the suite: a panettone, a chocolate Christmas ornament, a travel backgammon set, and a card. Later, in the Living Room bar, a band was playing Christmas music, and the cocktails came with a Christmas greeting to the two of us, by name, stencilled on the foam.

Soufrière town along the shore of its bay, green mountains rising behind, from the water — Soufrière from the water, the mountains behind.

Ilma, dark-hulled with white upper decks, at anchor on a blue sea under a blue sky — *Ilma* at anchor off Soufrière.

A panorama of the two Pitons rising from the sea, St. Lucia — The Pitons from the sea.

The ship's yellow tender alongside a wooden dock, its doors open — The ship’s tender, in yellow, alongside.

Steve and Jeannie in sunglasses on a speedboat, the wake and green hills behind — The water taxi round to Sugar Beach, arranged by the ship’s concierge.

A timber walkway between planted beds to a white beach pavilion at Sugar Beach — The walk down to the beach at Sugar Beach.

Thatched palapas under Petit Piton at Sugar Beach, St. Lucia — Palapas under Petit Piton at Sugar Beach.

Thatched umbrellas and palms under the sheer cliff of the Piton at Sugar Beach — Thatched umbrellas under the cliff at Sugar Beach.

A panorama of Soufrière bay in late-afternoon light, the town between green headlands — Soufrière bay in the late afternoon.

A panettone, a chocolate Christmas ornament, a leather travel backgammon set and a holiday card on the table in the suite — Christmas Eve in the suite: a panettone, a chocolate ornament, a travel backgammon set and a card.

A cocktail with a Merry Christmas greeting to Ms Jeannie and Mr Steven Zemaitis stencilled on the foam — Christmas Eve in the Living Room bar: a greeting stencilled on the foam.

Christmas Day at sea

Christmas Day was the ship’s own day: no port, no tender ashore. Instead the marina platform at the stern went down and the toys came out, kayaks and paddleboards and the sea itself to swim in, and the day went on the sun deck and in the spa, where we both had appointments and Steve had an Italian shave. Les Saintes, off the south coast of Guadeloupe, lay in view the while: the red roofs of Terre-de-Haut round its bay, the fort on the hill, and across the channel the mountains of Basse-Terre under their cloud, all of it from the deck and the suite. It was the quietest day of the week, which on Christmas Day is the point.

The marina platform at the ship's stern with kayaks on the water and the island behind — Christmas Day: the marina platform down at the stern, kayaks out.

The mountains of Basse-Terre, Guadeloupe, under a cap of cloud, seen across the channel from Les Saintes — Basse-Terre under its cloud, across the channel from Les Saintes.

Terre-de-Haut across the bay: red roofs along the shore and a rocky headland, boats at anchor — Terre-de-Haut, Les Saintes, from the ship.

Jeannie with a glass of wine at the panoramic window of the suite, the sea and islands below — Christmas Day, from the suite.

St. Barthélemy, and the bridge

St. Barths was the 26th, anchored off Gustavia and tendered in; the island has its own report, so this is the shape of the day. Breakfast ashore, then the boutiques of Gustavia, which is where the dress in the photographs below comes from; lunch on the sand at Nikki Beach in St. Jean, and its boutique, which sent me back to the tender with a dress and a beach bag. Then back to the ship for the afternoon that was the one to keep: an invitation from the Captain to a viewing of the bridge, which goes to a limited number of guests on a sailing, me in the Captain’s chair at the console with the whole of the sea ahead, and Gustavia harbour going pink from the hill above it.

Then ashore again for dinner. Ilma did not sail until eleven that night, which is another thing the Ritz-Carlton does with a ship this size: in certain ports she stays late, so an evening on the island is part of the call rather than something you give up for it. Dinner was at Beefbar, above the harbour at Fouquet’s Saint-Barth, and afterwards a slow walk through Gustavia with the palms wrapped in lights before the last tender back.

A table set under a white umbrella at Nikki Beach with the turquoise bay behind — Lunch on the sand at Nikki Beach, St. Jean.

A printed invitation card from the Captain of Ilma to a viewing of the bridge on Deck 9 — The Captain’s invitation to a viewing of the bridge.

Steve standing beside Jeannie in the bridge chair, screens and consoles behind them — Steve and I on the bridge, in a dress from Pop Saint Barth.

Jeannie at the bridge console looking out to sea, the crest embossed on the chair's headrest — At the console, the sea ahead.

Gustavia harbour at dusk, yachts along the quay under a pink sky — Gustavia harbour at dusk.

Steve walking up a lit stairway between palms at night at Fouquet's Saint-Barth, Gustavia — St. Barths after dark: Steve on the palm stairway at Fouquet’s Saint-Barth, the hotel above Gustavia that has Beefbar.

Sunset through palm fronds with Ilma at anchor on the horizon off St. Barths — *Ilma* at anchor off St. Barths at sunset, from the island.

A Gustavia street at night, palm trunks wrapped in lights, shopfronts glowing — Gustavia after dinner: the ship did not sail until eleven.

St. John, US Virgin Islands

The last call was St. John, on the 27th: at anchor off Cruz Bay with the tenders running all day, and the turndown card from the night before naming San Juan for the morning after. Cruz Bay is a small town of stone-fronted shops and courtyards under the palms, and most of the island behind it is national park. The shops are worth the hour: one boutique there gave me two more dresses for the suitcase home. We disembarked in San Juan the next morning.

A stone-fronted shop courtyard in Cruz Bay with teal umbrellas, brick paving and palms — A shop courtyard in Cruz Bay.

Eating on board

Dinner is wherever you like and whenever the day ashore ends: there is no assigned seating and no set time. The one table that needs planning is Seta su Ilma, Fabio Trabocchi’s restaurant, a tasting menu that carries a fee and books up first; that is the reservation to make the afternoon you board. Memori, on Deck 4, is the sushi bar, the chefs working behind the counter. Breakfast was a croissant with scrambled eggs and caviar. Caviar came again as a service on ice with the trimmings, and at the end of a dinner as “sweet caviar”, dark pearls over a scoop of sorbet. The kitchen sent canelés to the suite under a glass dome with a note, and the cappuccino comes with the crest in the foam.

The table at Seta su Ilma: white flowers in a silver tureen, wine glasses and the menu behind — The table at Seta su *Ilma*.

A beef course at Seta su Ilma, the sauces dotted on an embossed white plate, the menu card beyond — A course of the tasting menu at Seta su *Ilma*.

Two chefs in black at work behind the glass counter at Memori, the sushi bar on board — Memori, the sushi bar.

A croissant topped with scrambled eggs, lobster and caviar on a marbled plate — Breakfast: a croissant with scrambled eggs and caviar.

A tin of caviar on a bed of ice with bowls of egg, cream and chives, the sea in the window behind — Caviar on ice with the trimmings.

A dessert plated as sweet caviar: dark pearls under a red Ritz-Carlton Yacht Collection tin lid, with a scoop of red sorbet — “Sweet caviar” with a scoop of sorbet.

Two canelés under a glass dome on a slate, a printed note from the kitchen in front — Canelés under a glass dome with a note from the kitchen.

A cappuccino with the Ritz-Carlton Yacht Collection crest in the foam, two small pastries on a tray beside it — A cappuccino with the crest in the foam.

Shopping

What I wore, and where it came from. Sundresses most days, Kenny Flowers and Ex Voto among them, and two things that went everywhere: the Dior beach hat and a Balmain straw purse. One note on Gustavia: many of the luxury boutiques there carry a St. Barths-only piece, designed for the island and sold nowhere else, so ask for it.

The Boutique on board — opens only while the ship is under way, never in port; pre-owned Hermès and Chanel, and a large collection of it on our sailing Deck 5
Bvlgari — a full boutique on board, not a counter; my Christmas present came from here On board
Pop Saint Barth — Marjorie Lions’s hand-made dresses in silk and cotton voile, and her crochet pieces; the dress I am wearing in the Captain’s chair on the bridge is hers Gustavia, St. Barths website
The boutique at Nikki Beach — resort wear beside the restaurant; a dress and a beach bag came back to the ship with me St. Jean, St. Barths
Kenny Flowers — resort and swimwear; several of the sundresses I wore all week website
ExVoto Vintage — personalised jewellery and apparel; more of the sundresses website

The shopping street in Gustavia, St. Barths, boutiques under the palms — The boutiques of Gustavia.

Hermès in Gustavia, the tiled courtyard and the Ralph Lauren sign — Hermès, Gustavia.

An orange Bvlgari box tied with ribbon on the boutique counter, jewellery in the case beside it — My Christmas present from Steve, boxed at Bvlgari.

Pro tips

Arrive in San Juan the day before. We had one night in Old San Juan and it deserved more; it also takes the risk out of embarkation day. Boarding opened at 12:30, which left the whole afternoon to look over the ship. The San Juan report has the hotel.
Book every dinner the moment you board. Restaurant reservations cannot be made before you are on the ship, and the tables go on the first afternoon. Make them for the whole week as soon as you are aboard: through the concierge, the app on your phone, the console in the suite, or your suite ambassador.
Plan the shore days before you sail. Lunch at the Reef House at Little Dix Bay and a beach day at Sugar Beach are each a short boat ride from the anchorage, and neither is open to walk-ups from a ship. I contacted both resorts ahead of time and arranged our lunches; that is the kind of extra a travel advisor can add to a sailing.
Virgin Gorda: go to The Baths early. Take the morning excursion; the wait to get in grows through the day. If the excursion times do not suit, a taxi from the tender dock takes you there on your own.
In a big cruise port, leave town. St. John’s had three large ships in on our day. When a call is a shared pier rather than a quiet anchorage, book an excursion out of town before you sail.
Ask for mid-ship. We were in a Grand Suite on Deck 7, mid-ship, and it was the right place on the ship: the least motion, and central to everything. The suites on Deck 6 have larger terraces, if you can get one.
Motion sickness: for me, Bonine, not the patch. The scopolamine patch was too much for me — a dry mouth severe enough to make me feel sick on its own. Bonine, one a day, and I had no trouble for the rest of the sailing. What works is personal, so ask your doctor and pack both.
The bridge is by invitation. A viewing of the bridge is offered to a limited number of guests, and not on every sailing. Ours came from the Captain to the suite on the last day, and it was the best hour on the ship. There are ways to improve your chances when it is offered; ask me before you sail.
Christmas on board is done properly. Panettone, a chocolate ornament and a backgammon set in the suite, greetings on the cocktails, and the marina open and the spa booked on the day itself. If you sail over the holiday, this is the week to choose.
Gratuities are included; we tipped anyway. The fares include gratuities. We still tipped, and it was always appreciated: our suite ambassador on the first day and again at the end, and something extra for anyone who looked after us during the week.
Bring a carry-on for the last night. As on most ships, the luggage goes out the night before you disembark, so you need a small bag for the overnight things. Dumi brought us Ritz-Carlton Yacht Collection beach bags for ours, and they came home as keepsakes.
Plan the last morning: disembarkation is 9:00 am and the flights are late. We arranged a car through the ship’s concierge and it was waiting right outside the terminal. Flights out of San Juan mostly leave late in the day, and the airport will not check you in until three hours before departure, so going straight there means hours in a chair. Book a day pass at a resort or hotel near the cruise port or in Old San Juan instead, and book it ahead. The airport’s luggage lockers are the other option if you want to walk the city, but the line for them is long.

Book a trip like this

I book the Ritz-Carlton Yacht Collection, with the pre-cruise stay and the shore days arranged together. See Book with Jeannie.

Caribbean by yacht: Ilma, Ritz‑Carlton Yacht Collection