Undoubtedly one of the most popular sailing destinations in the Caribbean is the British Virgin Islands. But have you ever even heard of the Spanish Virgin Islands? Probably not! Next-door neighbors to the BVI’s, these lesser known islands are perfect cruising/chartering grounds for those of us who crave an island escape with some Spanish flair (yet still technically part of the US!). It’s a win-win.
Most charters start from the Puerto Del Ray Marina in Fajardo, on the east coast of Puerto Rico. From there you are free to explore the islands that make up the SVI’s; the largest of which are Culebra and Vieques. Our group of 7—my parents, another family (Ammy, Brad, + their two kids Braden and Peyton), and me—spent 8 days exploring as much as we could of these beautiful islands!
We used Sail Caribe to charter a 38′ Lagoon catamaran named Janise. She was brand new (2018!) and very spacious, and we were the first people to charter her! Unfortunately, our visit came just months after Puerto Rico was hit by two hurricanes back-to-back, so we experienced these islands in a quite damaged state. On the plus side, we were some of the only tourists brave enough to visit!
Isla Palominos
Day One:
We started by heading to Isla Palominos, a short 4 nautical mile sail from the marina. We moored alongside 3 other boats in the bay of the tiny, uninhabited island, and immediately jumped in for a quick snorkel. As the sky started changing colors, Braden and I swam back from the beach to take pictures and send his drone up. After dinner, we managed to hang all three hammocks up on the bow, where we laid and watched the stars, closing out a perfect first night on Janise.
Culebra
Day Two:
It was a pretty rough sail from Palominos to Culebra—4 or 5 hours of big swells and beating into the wind—but once we arrived at the small island off the coast of Culebra, Luis Pena, everyone’s spirits quickly rose, and we eagerly jumped in the turquoise water to snorkel! Peyton saw a nurse shark…on her first-ever time snorkeling! It was nice little stop and a very short sail from there to Culebra.
Anchoring on the north side of a small peninsula on the southwest corner of Culebra, we relaxed a bit on the bow before dinghying to shore to explore the beach. I found a path to the other side of the skinny peninsula, emerging through the lush brush to an equally beautiful beach and bay. The tip of the peninsula was covered in rocks, so of course Braden and I began climbing, and to our surprise found lots of cacti, making the climb slightly more challenging! The view was about as good as it gets—our single sailboat in the foreground, islands scattered in the background, and perfectly blue water all around.
Back at the boat, Braden and I fell asleep on the bow (me in my hammock hung between the hulls under the bow and him on a mattress he brought from his cabin), and the rest of the gang went snorkeling. While we snoozed, they saw a spotted eagle ray and a turtle! Vowing to snorkel there the next day so not to miss anything else, we ate dinner and, huddled around my dad’s phone in the cockpit, watched Caddyshack before bed.
Day Three:
Moving our floating home around to the other side of the peninsula, we found some amazing snorkeling! I probably spent more than an hour in the water, diving down between the huge coral heads, chasing colorful parrotfish and watching the purple sea fans as they waved back and forth in the current. And to top it off, we saw a beautiful sea turtle!
Dewey & Ensenada Honda
Picking up anchor, we headed to the small town of Dewey—the island’s only—and anchored just outside a little canal entrance to Ensenada Honda. Ensenada Honda is known as one of the best hurricane holes in the Caribbean, as the bay cuts deep into the island. The canal took us into the bay from the side, like a shortcut.
At the end of our lovely dinghy ride through the canal, we arrived at a dock, where my dad dropped us kids off while he went back to pick up everyone else (our dinghy was quite small).
Dewey felt like a ghost-town. A few locals went along with their daily life, while we struggled to find an open restaurant among the colorful, slightly scruffy store-fronts. Settling on a small pizza joint, we satisfied our stomachs with a nice lunch in preparation of some more exploring and, unfortunately, provisioning.
We found a small shop, where my dad decided to make an addition to his whole TWO shirts that he brought with him on the trip. Everyone then headed across a bridge to Milka’s, a grocery store we passed on the canal. After dinghying back to the boat with our groceries, we picked up anchor and sailed to the main entrance of Ensanada Honda, where we would spend the night.
The sail there was extremely rough, but also a lot of fun! With our hammocks strung up on the bow, Braden and I swung and bounced with every swell, eventually having to take them down for saftey reasons.
Once protected inside the reef, it was much calmer. We spotted a shipwreck on the charts and could see a bit of mast sticking up out of the water a short ways from our mooring, so we decided to take the dinghy over to see. Tying off to the rigging, we dove down to see the small sailboat. Though a bit creepy, it wasn’t too exciting, so we snorkeled back to the boat. Besides a few conch and starfish, there wasn’t much there either.
As we ate dinner, we waved to two dinghies as they cruised by, the old cruising sailors standing up with one hand on the tiller and the other holding a beer. We ended the night with many rounds of spoons (played with broken closepins) and an eventful Jelly Belly flavor guessing competition of which my mom won, causing Braden to jump off the boat in a lost bet. After that, spoons became a nightly event.
Culebrita
Day Four:
If you can’t guess by the name, Culebrita is Culebra’s smaller sister island. Famed for its beautiful beaches and so-called “jacuzzis” we were eager to check it out. Peyton, Braden, and I went ashore to find these “jacuzzis,” of which we weren’t super impressed with their jacuzzi-ness. Instead of peaceful tide pools warmed by the sun, we discovered a gorgeous rocky area where the turquoise waves crashed on the rocks and swirled in beautiful patterns.
We wandered all over the rocks, careful to avoid stepping on any cacti. Every new spot I climbed to had an equally spectacular view—I could’ve happily explored here for hours. But like every other Puerto Rican day, a short rain squall came in on our way back to the boat.
We hardly noticed it was Christmas Eve as we ate dinner in the cockpit, soaked in the sunset, and watched the rest of Caddyshack.
Day Five:
Christmas morning came, and we brought our pineapple “tree” decorated with shells and our tiny stockings out to the cockpit to celebrate and open presents. After the lack of produce on the islands, I think we were most excited to eat our tree! It was an odd Christmas, for sure, but definitely one of the best.
According to our cruising guide, Culebrita was supposed to have a nice lighthouse (which it did) that you could hike to (which we tried). So Braden and I decided to go to shore and start hiking. This was easier said than done, for the brush was almost impassable—at least without getting very scratched up. We hiked upwards for probably 45 minutes, cursing at cacti and brushing off spiderwebs the whole time (and of course me, screaming whenever I saw one of the creators of the webs).
Other than some little goat paths every once and a while, there was no sign of a trail. We reached the top of the hill, expecting to be at the lighthouse, but it was still another hill away! Looking down at our bleeding legs and possible spiderbites (there were some very suspicious looking spiders), and up at the long distance ahead, we decided to turn back. Let’s just say the way down was no easier.
Back on the boat, after washing our stinging cuts off in the saltwater and waving to my dad to come pick us up off the beach, we began sailing to Vieques.
Vieques
The downwind sail was very nice, and we arrived at Bahia de la Chiva in no time. Vieques is much larger than Culebra, though sadly, much of the island is off-limits due to unexploded ordinances on the old military land. Bahia de la Chiva didn’t have much for snorkeling, as far as we could find, and there were lots of pesty no-seeums on shore. So we moved on to Sun Bay, just a little ways west.
Anchoring in the beautiful bay, we looked out at the gorgeous horseshoe shaped beach hugging the bay. The small town of Esperanza was visible a little ways off, on the other side of two little islands.
Using our spinnaker halyard, Peyton and I hung on and swung over the trampoline from one hull to the other. Then we all piled into the dinghy and putzed slowly to shore. We watched the sun set peacefully over the calm waves rolling up onto the beach, a couple sailboats perfectly silhouetted between two islands. Some locals waved hola to us as we passed and we returned the greeting.
Back on Janise, we ate and of course played more spoons, then gathered around the cockpit table to watch the first half of Airplane on my dad’s phone.
Esperanza
Day Six:
Esperanza is one of the two main towns on Vieques. Ashore, there is a nice road and boardwalk, or Malecón, with shops and restaurants. After the hurricane, a lot of things were still closed, and we were some of the only tourists. Braden, Peyton, and I went ashore first (with trash to drop off), and we explored a little before our parents came ashore.
Braden befriended a guy named Abe, who walked with us and told us about where to eat and what to do. He also told us that the bioluminescent bay, something Vieques is famed for worldwide, was only at 10% brightness and not worth seeing. As he owns his own bio bay tour company, he was extremely kind to tell us the truth and not take advantage of our limited knowledge. Sadly, hurricane Maria had disturbed the balance of phosphorescent organisms that are usually highly concentrated in this bay and make the waters glow brightly.
Following Abe’s recommendation, we walked up the road a ways to the “Green Store,” which turned out to be very literal! We bought snacks and sat on green benches outside and ate. We decided to take a different route back to town, and walked through neighborhoods on the cracked roads. A man stopped to talk to us, telling us stories from Maria and, like most of the people we’ve talked to, telling us how happy they are that tourists like us are slowly coming back.
Upon reaching the Malecón, it immediately began to pour, and we were forced to take shelter on the steps of a closed up restaurant. When the rain slowed, we made a run for Duffy’s, another of Abe’s recommendations, and enjoyed a lunch of tacos and curly fries. We also met a lovely family from Denmark, who we chatted with for a bit. After lunch, we noticed an art vendor had opened up across the street, so we checked it out and bought a few things, happy to support a local.
One of the strangest things we saw on the slow-moving island, were Viequenses riding horses at top speed down the streets. And it wasn’t just that they were going fast—the rider barely moved as the horse ran! I later learned the Spanish breed brought to the Caribbean is called Paso Fino, meaning “fine step.” Surprisingly, the odd gait is natural!
When a taxi passed by, we waved and she stopped to talk to us, arranging to have a van come shortly to take us to the town of Isabel. The small traffic jam we had just caused moved on without a honk.
Isabel Segunda
Our chatty taxi driver, Letty, told us more about Vieques on the drive to the north side of the island. Isabel Segunda (sometimes called Isabel II), is the larger of the two towns, where most of the population lives. Letty dropped us off in front of Banco Popular so that we could get some cash before setting out to explore the town.
The town square marked the center of town, so we went there first. After popping into a surf/dive shop called Blackbeard’s, we walked down towards the water and discovered an oddly out-of-place oceanfront Subway, which supplied us with some cookies.
Spotting a little fish store down the road, my dad decided it would be fun to buy some conch for Braden to try. The shop consisted of a bucket of half-dead lobster and an enormous pile of conch, from which Braden bought two. They didn’t have ice, so we stopped at Subway to get some.
We continued our exploration of Isabel by walking up the hilly roads to the old Spanish fort, Fortín Conde de Mirasol. The streets were lined with dilapidated houses, horses, chickens, cats, and children, all of which happily smiled and waved as we walked by. The fort itself was small, but had a beautiful view of the town and surrounding ocean.
We had to stop at a grocery store before heading back to Esperanza, as we had close to no food left. Letty pulled up to take us back when we were done, and on the way, I mentioned we couldn’t find produce anywhere, upon which she turned down a street and took us to another store. Inside the strange refrigerated truck hooked up to the store, we bumped into our friend from Denmark, who remarked, “I guess you found the only produce store on the island!”
Esperanza Pt. 2
Back at the boat, we jumped off and swam, and I failed miserably at a backflip. Always looking for ways to work out onboard, Braden and I made a competition (which he won) of hanging under the boat, from the netting of the trampoline, and trying to climb full circle around the edge. Afterwards, we realized we had been scraping our knuckles pretty bad, so now we had more to add to our collection of battlescars from the trip, (which started with our scratched legs).
We ate at Banana’s, seated at a cozy table on the open-air deck by the street. This would be our first time trying Mofongo, the Puerto Rican dish found on almost every menu, which consisted of a mound of smashed plantains—almost like polenta or mashed potatoes—and covered in whatever you chose to put on top (veggies, seafood, etc.). As we sipped our mango juice, more Paso Finos ran down the street, accompanied by the occasional dog and litter of kittens that came around our table.
The entertainment for the night was—rather than Caddyshack or Spoons—my dad and Braden preparing the conch. Braden’s job was to tenderize it before my dad cooked it up. This had to be done with our limited supplies on the boat, which turned out to be a socket wrench. So the quote of the day came from Braden, “If you’re not beating your conch with the back of a socket wrench on the transom of your boat, you’re doing something wrong.”
Day Seven:
Still anchored in Esperanza, we had a nice lazy morning on Janise. Although we did experience a torrential downpour for a few minutes…But nothing out of the ordinary. An art vendor selling beautiful sarongs had opened up a spot on the Malecón, so the girls of our group went ashore to buy some. We then set off for the west end of Vieques.
Punta Arenas
The sail west was rolly, and we surfed down huge swells the whole way. Peyton held a funeral for Mr. Biscuit (a sea biscuit which I had previously stepped on and partially broke) and accidentally shattered him while she threw him overboard. The crash caused my mom to scream, which caused my dad to swear, which caused the whole crew to laugh, which kind of ruined the somberness of the funeral.
The large bay was empty except for two Policia boats motoring around. One came to check us out as we anchored, but soon they both left. Braden and I took the dinghy to see what was over at the point. We skimmed over strange flat rocks that made up the bottom. By the time we got back, everyone had gone snorkeling. At first we stayed on board, but once we heard excited yelling and saw Peyton chase after something, we threw our gear into the dinghy and went to go catch up with everyone.
The strange rocky bottom made anchoring difficult, and I had to dive down to dig our anchor under a ledge. The coral wasn’t great, but Brad, Braden and I saw a big ray!
We took turns showering with the hose off the transom—it was much better than taking a real shower in the small heads down below—and attempted to take family pictures on the bow before having dinner and watching the rest of Airplane.
As we all laid out under the stars on the bow, Dad got the idea to go night snorkeling in search of lobster. No one volunteered to go along, so instead we watched his light go farther and farther from the boat as we placed bets on if he would come back with a lobster. Against all bets except for Peyton’s, he returned with a small lobster in hand! We released it and watched it sink down to the bottom.
Cayo Icacos
Day Eight:
In the morning, we sailed north up the coast of Puerto Rico, passing Fajardo, where we just the following day we would be returning our beloved Janice. We sailed to the island next to Cayo Icacos, which looked nice, but turned out to be a private island. Not knowing this when we arrived, we all wandered around the small but luxurious, closed up resort. Peyton and I were busy trying to climb palm trees when we were informed that we needed to stay off, as it was all private! The groudskeeper was friendly though, and kindly gave us water to fill our tanks before we left.
We headed to the neighboring island, which was Cayo Icacos. There were lots of boats anchored and moored here, many rafted together and partying.
After anchoring, we all jumped in to go snorkeling. Swimming to the beach, we didn’t see much in the way of coral, though I did find a nice ray that we followed around for a bit.
The second snorkel of the day was much better! After moving to a mooring, we splashed in with masks and fins once again, to see what was on the other side of the anchorage. Huge coral heads were covered in fish, sea fans, and all sorts of colorful coral. It was beautiful. To top it off, Braden and I spotted a nurse shark under a ledge!
After dinner and a bit of lounging around, Dad and I went for a night snorkel! I jumped into the dark water with my flashlight in hand, eyes following the small beam of light it put out. Little blue fish swam in the light as I pointed it at the coral heads. I was surprised to discover that it wasn’t all that different from daytime snorkeling!
We surfaced, showered off, and enjoyed the rest of our last night on Janise.
Day Nine:
I woke up early, just in time to pop my head out the hatch and watch the sunrise. We didn’t stay long at anchor, as we had to return the boat by 10 a.m. The sail to Fajardo was short—just an hour or two away. We motored into the marina playing our two “theme songs” of the trip: “I’m Alright” from Cadyshack, and “Bla Bla Cha Cha Cha” from who-knows where. Our moms danced on the bow as we pulled up to Jose, from Sail Caribe, waving to us from the gas dock.
After saying goodbye to Janise, we were driven speedily up the dock in a golf cart to where we would later get a taxi to the airport and say our goodbyes out the plane window to the Spanish Virgin Islands.
