Private paradise, public cost: Cruise Lines' private islands are reshaping Caribbean tourism

Norwegian Cruise Line (NCL) has unveiled a $150 million expansion of its private Bahamian retreat, Great Stirrup Cay, doubling down on the cruise industry’s growing trend of building exclusive, self-contained islands across the Caribbean. Slated for completion in summer 2026, the new development, anchored by the six-acre Great Tides Waterpark, will feature 19 waterslides, cliff-jumping zones, swim-up bars, jet kart courses, bioluminescent grotto tunnels, luxury villas, and a newly constructed pier that allows multiple ships to dock simultaneously.

NCL expects to bring one million passengers annually to the private island, where the entire guest experience, from splash pads to souvenir shops, remains under cruise line control. The aim is clear: keep passengers on-brand, on-island, and off the beaten path of traditional Caribbean destinations.

While NCL celebrates the expansion as a “reinvention” of its guest experience, it also highlights a growing dilemma faced by many Caribbean nations, one in which cruise ships increasingly bypass public ports and local economies in favor of corporate-controlled enclaves.

𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲

“Great Stirrup Cay has always been an amazing part of the Norwegian Cruise Line guest experience,” said NCL President David J. Herrera. “At 270 acres, our private island provides us with an incredible blueprint to reinvent what guests can experience.”

But it is not just Norwegian. Royal Caribbean, Carnival, MSC, Disney, and Virgin Voyages all now own or lease private islands and coastal enclaves throughout the region, effectively creating a new cruise geography, one that is branded, built, and fenced off from the very destinations most cruise marketing claims to celebrate.

Royal Caribbean’s Perfect Day at CocoCay, just 50 nautical miles from Great Stirrup Cay, is the poster child of this model. With North America’s tallest waterslide, a helium balloon ride, and overwater cabanas priced at more than $1,000 per day, the island brought in record revenue and has reshaped the cruise experience as a destination unto itself.

MSC Cruises transformed a former sand excavation site into Ocean Cay MSC Marine Reserve, pitching it as an eco-conscious paradise with coral nurseries and solar power. Disney Cruise Line, long known for Castaway Cay, is now adding Lighthouse Point on Eleuthera, offering family-friendly beaches, curated Bahamian art, and full Disney integration. Carnival controls Half Moon Cay, Mahogany Bay, and Amber Cove, and has invested heavily in shorefront infrastructure to keep passengers close to the ship, yet away from local communities.

Virgin Voyages, the industry’s edgier newcomer, operates The Beach Club at Bimini, where DJs, infinity pools, and curated wellness experiences appeal to its younger, adult-only demographic. Like the others, it features food, drinks, activities, and entertainment run entirely by the cruise line or its partners.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭: 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

To tourists, these private islands feel like a fantasy. To many Caribbean economies, they feel like a siphon.

“When passengers don’t come ashore, nobody earns,” says a vendor in Philipsburg, St. Maarten, who has watched cruise foot traffic decline on days when ships stop at private destinations first. “We prepare for a full ship, and then they come already fed, sunburned, and shopped out.”

In traditional ports like St. Maarten, Antigua, Grenada, and Barbados, tour operators, restaurateurs, taxi drivers, and craft vendors depend heavily on cruise arrivals. When those passengers are diverted to private islands, many of which are only a few hundred miles from U.S. ports, the local economic impact is sharply reduced. According to the Florida-Caribbean Cruise Association (FCCA), the average passenger spends between $75 and $100 per port visit. But on private islands, most of that spending goes directly to the cruise lines through pre-booked excursions, bar tabs, cabana rentals, and spa services.

Worse still, some cruise itineraries now include back-to-back beach days at multiple private destinations, minimizing calls to sovereign Caribbean countries altogether. Governments, once reliant on port fees and tourism taxes, now face declining onshore revenue despite record-breaking cruise arrivals on paper.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲

Private islands also give cruise lines unprecedented leverage over regional governments. As the industry consolidates and port calls become more selective, destinations are forced to compete for docking privileges, often investing in port infrastructure or offering incentives to secure itineraries. In contrast, cruise lines can fully control the operations and costs of their private islands, setting their own rules, pricing, and labor standards.

Critics have likened the model to a form of “neocolonial tourism,” where multinational corporations claim slices of sovereign Caribbean territory to serve private profit, while insulating themselves from public oversight or regulation.

NCL’s expansion of Great Stirrup Cay includes everything from a mini golf course and cliff-jumping areas to a new heated pool, jet kart tracks, and a tram system. A pier under construction will allow for multiple ships to dock simultaneously, removing the need for tender boats and speeding up disembarkation. From the moment passengers step onto the island, their every step, splash, and swipe is part of a vertically integrated experience.

And with more investments coming, the construction of NCL’s second Prima-class ship Norwegian Aqua, the opening of Disney’s Lighthouse Point, and the extension of Carnival’s Destination Grand Bahama, the trend shows no signs of slowing.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐬

For Caribbean governments, the question is not just about tourism, but about sovereignty, sustainability, and strategy. Should they push back against this model and promote land-based tourism that engages local communities, or adapt to the realities of cruise tourism by striking better deals with the lines?

Some countries have started to demand more. Belize, for instance, has delayed or canceled private cruise port developments citing environmental and cultural concerns. Others have called for regional cooperation to negotiate as a bloc, rather than competing against each other in a race to the bottom.

Yet for now, the momentum remains firmly in the cruise lines’ favor. With more ships being built and onboard experiences already resembling floating resorts, the push to extend that controlled environment onto land is a logical step for companies, but a complicated one for the region.

As NCL's promotional campaign declares, “Escape to the Great Life.” But for island communities watching cruise passengers sail past their shores in favor of branded beach clubs and engineered lagoons, the great escape may be happening in reverse.

Behind the colorful waterslides and curated experiences lies a deeper question: Is the Caribbean still a destination, or is it becoming just a backdrop?

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