Your first obstacle when building on Anguilla is the haughty certainty your “friends” will express when they tell you, “What are you, nuts? It’s hard enough to build a house in your own hometown; how do you expect to handle something in another country, thousands of miles away?”.

How to respond? With deep, cleansing breaths? Or, for sure, with fervent prayer.

Although both are useful, building your dream house is entirely possible, practical, and attainable, so long as you do your homework.

One caveat (as we lawyers are wont to say): There are no guarantees about anything, except the maxim, “What can go wrong will go wrong.”  If you lack resilience, good nature, good humor, and a sense of adventure, then don’t do this (if you lack all those characteristics, move to Florida; we want fun people on Anguilla).  Final caveat: even if I sound like I know what I am talking about in this article, it is better to be lucky than good.  We were incredibly lucky and had one of the most positive and gratifying experiences of our lives.  Our best luck was finding Ian “Sugar George” Edwards, but more about that later.

In December 2001 my wife, KK, and I were fortunate enough to obtain a unique and spectacularly situated piece of land at the western end of Shoal Bay East.  We now needed a house that would do justice to this phenomenal location.  So, we needed a designer/contractor who could do justice to such a house.

How to find the right person? I gathered as many names as I could (Anguillians are as rightfully proud of their builders as they are of their wooden racing boats or dominoes champions—ask anyone about house-building and you will be inundated with recommendations), and drove around, looking at what they had already done.

Next I tried to arrange interviews.  Here is where the “weeding-out” process begins (and, after all, most hiring begins with whom you would want least—the hardest choices come at the end, not at the beginning).  Whom can you reach, and whose voicemail do you keep getting (and who doesn’t have voicemail at all)? If I can’t talk to someone to offer him a job, why would I want to give him a job?  The ability to communicate (including the ability to reach him by phone, fax, or email—as well as the true ability to communicate, i.e., speaking the “same language” and a mutual understanding of objectives and the means to attain them) is one of the most important criteria for the selection of a builder.

My interviews were conducted on site.  I wanted to see and hear the candidates’ reactions to the land and witness their first impressions.  In addition to trying to gauge competence (and how can you do that?), I was looking to see whether their personalities and ours would be a good fit—if we were investing so much of ourselves (financially and emotionally), we wanted someone who was going to share our passion…and our trying senses of humor.

I learned one thing quickly: some builders are just builders; others are designers and builders.  There is nothing wrong with the former, so long as you wish to keep those functions separate.  I wanted someone who was not “tied to the blueprints”, someone whose ability to build would be informed by his participation in the design.  This turned out, later, to be a good decision: as the construction progressed (clearly, from a blueprint), our builder would contact us and say, “Here’s what we (he and we) designed; however, now that I see it going up, you might want to consider making this or that alteration.”  These were not “money-makers” for Sugar George.  Same walls, floor space, etc; however, he saw aspects that could be improved, for example, gain better views by sacrificing a few square feet of closet space.  Not the kind of flexibility you will get from a mere “builder” (I repeat: those builders who just build can and do great work; I am not knocking them, just pointing out a limitation).

Much as we would have liked to oversee the project in person, work and financial realities precluded that.  So, we needed a “virtual” means to be there.  How technologically savvy is the contractor? Again, Sugar George enhanced his status with digital photographs and frequent emails.  Also, once he had the job, he established a special Internet phone line that permitted us to call him by dialing what was for us a local number here in Connecticut (not spending $2.65/minute to call Anguilla saved us hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars, all of which went into the house). Unfortunately for Sugar George, our ability to make “free” calls greatly extended their length.  Did I mention that the contractor’s patience is a huge virtue? Sugar George did his drawings using a computer assisted software package.  We got similar capabilities, which made it easier both to view and make plan changes.  If you are going to do this from afar, technology helps.  In this regard, many thanks to Maryann and Bob Green, whose ceaseless efforts to educate the world about Anguilla in general and house-building in particular were of invaluable assistance to us.  I marvel at how the magnificent Thai Houses near us were built 25 years ago without the benefit of electricity, let alone email and digital photography.

No matter how much technology is at your disposal, nothing beats being there, and Sugar George was insistent that we witness, “first pour”, for the cistern and swimming pool.  I am glad that we went.  I will always treasure the memories of being there at the house’s “birth”.  It also gave us the opportunity to see that not everything in the design was perfect; we sketched a major change on a 2X4, on site, in about 10 minutes.  It is now one of my favorite areas in the house.

Sugar George poured the cistern bottom on July 15, 2002.  We moved in during Thanksgiving of 2003, a remarkably short 16 months for the construction of a 6 bedroom, 10,000 square foot home, including swimming pool and tennis court.  I’ve gone longer than that in Connecticut waiting for a plumber to fix a broken toilet.

Building from afar is no different than building locally: You must trust and be able to work with your contractor.  He is your most important tool.  If your relationship with him is right, everything else takes care of itself.  Understand your project—let its function drive its form.  If you know how you want your house to work, it will almost design itself.  This is where the design process becomes almost psychoanalytical: what do you like/hate? What has worked/failed before? What do you regret most/least about your present house? It is review of past failures and hoped-for future successes.

The right contractor stays in touch with you: During certain phases we heard from Sugar George at least once a day.  Though it was not for him to be boastful, it was clear (and abidingly reassuring to us) that he was pleased by the progress.  He was enthusiastic and wanted us to be a part of it.  The technology was icing on the cake.

Have fun! I have not shared with you the key role that “The Fam” (siblings, in-laws, nieces, and close friends) played in this project.  Half the fun was having “confabs” about everything—and to those who say that a “camel is a horse designed by committee”, I say that our project benefited from having so many people contribute so many ideas.  Thanks to all of them.

If you are considering building, then you are adventuresome, creative, and willing to take risks.  The risk/reward benefit is worth the money, time, and anxiety.  While I am thrilled with the house—and am glad it is done—I truly miss the stimulation of the process.

The house, BeachCourt Villa is completed, but—like any house—it will never be done.  The gardens grow, and change its appearance almost weekly.  Now Sugar George’s wife, Janine, manages the property (owning a house from afar may be more challenging than merely building one) and shares her husband’s enthusiasm and commitment to excellence. Please contact her at sunsethomes@anguillanet.com to view it, to get our own building ideas or to rent it.  When you see it, you will realize, “I can do this.”  All the best.