Although technically just a part of Puerto Rico, in the cruising community as well as among locals, the Spanish Virgin Islands deserve their own post. The islands are much quieter and more laid back than the mainland and they are used as a weekend respite for many mainlanders. Like many smaller islands, we had to forego this cluster on our way south and were looking forward to visiting on our way back.
Culebrita
Although there are technically many smaller islands in the Spanish Virgin Islands, the smallest of the three major islands is Culebrita. It is an uninhabited island whose sole structure is a completely defunct lighthouse.
There is a short hiking trail up to the top of the hill to check it out. Dublin was leading the way and he and I walked a bit faster than the girls. I wasn’t paying attention and we missed a turn, so we took an extra detour to the south shore as well but managed to meet back up with Grete and Fira at the top.
Also of note was the insanely high number of crabs on this island. As in, it was crazy how many crabs there were. In general I try hard not to step on crabs when we walk, but this felt like the Trolley Dilemma in that avoiding one might have meant stepping on four others.
There was also a short walk along the beach to some large tide pools that we were lucky enough to time well with sunset so the lighting was perfect.
This tiny island fills up with day-boaters on the weekend and some during the week as well. In the evenings though, it was pretty quiet with only a handful of boats at anchor. Even at its worst during the day though, the music volume, etc. was much lower than any day of the week on the mainland. We were there until Saturday morning and left before the real onrush of boaters arrived. The picture below was taken early Saturday morning but people have told us that by the afternoon the boats are connected all the way across the beach and up to three layers deep. No thanks.
Culebra
We left one cool island beach spot in Culebrita and headed straight for another, Flamenco Beach, on Culebra. This beach is accessible by land and even has a small hotel and campground so it is less popular with the day-boaters who want to go to exclusive “boats only” spots. I’ll take it. During the day, the beach was packed with great people watching, and an (heladeria) ice cream shop that took the edge off the heat. At night, all of the people who drove or took the bus to the beach go back to town so it gets quiet and calm. And as I said, there were only a few day boats and we were the only cruiser, so at night we were the only boat in the bay.
Like most of the places around here, the US military used to do training operations and live fire exercises all over the island. A couple of old Sherman tanks remain, along with what we are led to believe are quite a few unexploded munitions.
One really scary thing that happened was that Dublin threw his monthly tantrum and refused to leave the boat when we headed to the beach. We said ‘screw it’ and decided to leave him behind. Well, at some point after we left, he decided he did want to go, obviously, so he jumped in off the back of the boat and swam to shore. Now, from time to time we swim to shore because it is easier that taking the dinghy, or it’s just so close that it feels silly to take a boat. However, we were pretty far from the beach and there were occasional boats coming in and out.
Grete, Fira and I were walking back down the mile long beach over an hour after we went ashore and saw someone hanging out by our dinghy. It was Dublin. He had swam to shore and miraculously made it safely. Grete explained to him the million reasons why it was the stupidest thing he’s done since trying to go out to sea in a 4-5 knot current in the Bahamas about 15 months ago. She had to, because I was going to really rip into him.
When we finally went back to the Hoss, Grete decided to swim back to feel how it went. She had a really rough time. Oh, and of course we were right next to her in the dinghy so that unlike his trip ashore, her trip back to the boat was safe. Last point of fear was when we got back to the boat and saw that he never even put the swim ladder down. This means that even if something had gone wrong, he would not have been able to easily get back on the boat.
Our next stop was around the south side of the island to the main town. We were heading into the anchorage and had to drive in circles for a while since apparently a regatta was set to start at the same time that we got into the harbor. It was pretty cool to watch.
We ate some great nachos a couple of times since the kids get to earn meals out by reading five Florida State Reader books and passing the requisite quizzes.
I realize sunset pictures are nothing like sunsets, but we had a great sunset one evening and tried to capture it.
We hung out with some locals on a small beach nearby and got to see one of the famed pallet troll statues, called “Hector the Protector”.
After a few days here though, it was time for our last stop in the Spanish Virgin Islands, Vieques.
Vieques
Our last stop was Vieques. We only wanted to stop here for one reason, and that is the Bio Bay. The word was that this bay on the south side of Vieques is loaded with bioluminescent organisms called dinoflagellates.
We initially thought we would stay a couple of days but the wind this time of year makes the southern coast anchorages quite rolly especially for a monohull like us. There is also a lot of petty theft on the island, a fact we had read about but were also told by locals in Culebra. So, we went just past the bio bay and anchored near some friends we have crossed paths with several times since the Grenadines, and got to chat for at least a few minutes. They are less that a week away from selling their boat so it was our last visit and I’m glad we got to say hello one last time.
Right before sunset we took the big boat back to the mouth of the bio bay. The entrance is far too shallow for our boat, and also no motors are allowed in the bay since the eco-tourism there is a major source of money for the island. So, we anchored in what was basically the open ocean and it was nasty. The Hoss was thrashing around like mad. Somehow we were able to deploy and retrieve the dinghy without incident, but it was a very tense few minutes doing so.
We dinghied in to the bay and then pulled the outboard up and got out the oars. I rowed us around for a couple of miles inside and it was amazing. We were concerned that it wouldn’t be very impressive after other bioluminescent experiences we’ve had on the west coast of Florida, but it was special. The organisms were bright sparkles, as opposed to the soft glow we saw in Tampa a few years ago.
Each stroke of the oars would bring about a huge burst of light, basically turning them into paintbrushes on this incredible canvas. We spent some time watching the small fish zoom past the dinghy as glowing little torpedos. Then we spent some time just leaning over the side and staring. The glowing was like thousands of stars shining and sparkling. The extra cool part was that you could stick a finger into the water and it was like a cluster of thousands more stars zooming wherever you moved it.
I tried taking pictures and videos and they are nothing but black. So, here is some picture I found online of someone putting their hand in the water and it is pretty accurate.
Super glad we visited. One last note was that the outside lights in town were mostly red, instead of white, so as not to add a bunch of light polution. It looks kind of creepy but it was cool to see a town/community coming together to make their environment more attractive for themselves and visitors.
At last, we took off in the darkness from the rolly hellscape anchorage and overnighted to Salinas for a long stop before we head back south.