St. Martin/Sint Maarten may not have the cachet of more exclusive islands, but we found plenty to do and, thanks to Marilyn Pulito's insider advice, managed to do most everything on just the right day and at just the right time, avoiding logistical pitfalls such as traffic jams and parking problems. We made day-trips by ferry to both Anguilla (a 20-minute ride from the French capital of Marigot) and St. Barts (a 45-minute ride from Oyster Pond). We zip-lined through the rain forest at Loterie Farm, a nature preserve atop Paradise Peak, where there are three ropes courses: one for kids, one for adults, and one extreme. At La Ferme des Papillons, we held butterflies on our fingers and watched several take wing for the first time. We signed on for one of local legend Captain Alan's boat trips to St. Martin's uninhabited outer islands, including Pinel, where we snorkeled and hand-fed fish, and Tintamarre, where we slathered age-old volcanic mud all over our bodies. We hung out with the plane spotters on Maho Beach—which sits at the end of the runway at Princess Juliana International Airport—watching in awe as 747s and A340s zoomed past, just a few dozen feet overhead, right before landing.

What's nice about French St. Martin is that if you're seeking authentic island culture, you can find that, too. The village of Grand Case (a 20-minute drive from Oyster Pond) throws a homespun street festival called Harmony Nights every Tuesday from January through March. It features local artisans selling crafts made from native woods and plants, sensuous rhythms from local bands, and a small-town parade of stilt walkers and costumed, dancing children. You can find traditional island food in Grand Case at its lolos—open-air waterfront shacks serving barbecued snapper, conch sausage, and the like—but the best homegrown fare we had was the melt-in-your-mouth seafood at Lee's Roadside Grill in Simpson Bay and the Caribbean specialties at Loterie Farm's Hidden Forest Café, an après-zip-line must. Haute cuisine is part of the local culture (many consider French St. Martin to be the Caribbean's culinary capital); so are the families who have owned and run the island's finest restaurants for years. At Mont Vernon's romantic Sol é Luna inn, for instance, Mom is the manager, Dad is the chef, and Daughter is the hostess and—thanks to her stage presence and beauty—the floor show, too. And every detail of our spectacular dinner there—from the puff pastry that topped the lobster bisque like a beret and the homemade fruit-flavored rums to the lush vegetation embellishing the wraparound terrace—left us swooning. Marilyn Pulito knows these families, of course, as well as exactly which restaurants to recommend depending on the occasion. Indeed, every one of her food suggestions—where to dine, which supermarket to shop at, what staples to bring with us on the plane—was spot-on.

We did a lot on St. Martin/Sint Maarten, yet we barely scratched the surface. There was no time for sailing the Americas Cup yacht, snagging deals on duty-free cameras and watches in Philipsburg, scuba diving with Aqua Mania Adventures, day-tripping to the island of Saba, dining at famed Grand Case establishments Le Pressoir and L'Auberge Gourmande. Clearly I'll have to convince my family to go back. It won't be hard.