Archives: Vieques

Sunday, September 3, 2006
4 p.m.

Small fishing boats with chipped paint dot Isabel Segunda harbor in Vieques, a floating collection of colors that rarely fit north of Miami: aquamarine, cyan, pink, etc.

Looking back, it is just sea and sky.

And in front, rows of houses along the hillside with billowing smoke, a few church steeples.

I hop off the ferry, passing a throng of waiting passengers, and walk a block to the first hotel in sight. No vacancy, but the desk attendant refers me to another place – the Tropical Guest House – with rooms available.

My instructions (delivered over the phone by the Tropical Guest House owner): walk toward the fort till you can go no further, hang a right and walk for about 3-4 minutes, hang a left over a yellow bridge and it’s two more blocks … if I reach a gas station, I’ve missed the turn for the yellow bridge.

Oh yes, this plan sounds great.

10 minutes later, I am lost.

I took a right before the fort and then it got confusing. I started climbing a super steep hill – about 45 degrees – and wound up being chased by a dog for 40 yards (while carrying a bag that weighs about 10-15 pounds).

At the top of the hill, the paved road ended and there was nothing but a dirt trail. I couldn’t go down the hill and backtrack because the dog was waiting for me, so I followed the dirt trail.

The dirt trail took this shape: < … I started at the bottom right portion of the arrow and ended at the top right portion.

At the end of the trail, there was an undeveloped field – apparently being prepared for crops. Beyond the field, I could see another dirt trail. Just maybe, it would lead to the houses in the distance/paved roads, and I could get back to the harbor (easily visible from this elevation).

I went about 50 yards before I stopped in my tracks: wild dogs up ahead. Oh shit. I needed to turn around immediately. I entered a full sprint and went back … thankfully, the wild dogs did not see me or give chase.

I’m back at the top of the 45 degree hill, soaked in sweat. My hat is drenched. My blue jeans (such wisdom in wearing long pants in 95 degree weather) are soaked from the waist to the knee.

Options: Go through people’s backyards to avoid the dog? Wait – they have dogs too, as well as chickens, pigs, and lots of other animals. Their backyards could be more hazardous than passing this small – albeit vicious – dog.

So I start to walk down the hill … I reach the house where the dog originated and it seems like I’m in the clear. But then I hear that growl and chase #2 begins …

I’m not going to make it this time – not even adrenaline can give me the kick I need … so I do the only thing that makes sense and drop my bag on the ground, hoping the dog will be distracted and give up the pursuit. It works. Thank god.

The dog circles the bag, sniffing, and about 15 yards past, I collapse on a lawn in front of a resident.

“Do you know where the Tropical Guest House is?”

He shakes his head no …

The dog eventually loses interest and I am able to retrieve my bag and walk back to the harbor.

I accidentally stumble upon my hotel 2 minutes later.

“You must have taken the long route,” the hotel manager says.
“I got chased.”
“You were chased?”
“Yeah, by dogs. It’s fine though. I haven’t run that fast since I was 18. It was a good workout. Do you take Visa?”

Sunday, September 3, 2006
7 p.m.

La Tienda Verde – or the green store – is in Esperanza, at the south end of the island (the ferry terminal is on the north side). A cab took me here so I could meet up with a kayak tour group heading to the bioluminescent bay.

The tour driver has a blue Ford Ranger pickup and I hop in the back with three others – two from Nashville and one who lives in San Juan (all lifelong friends from India). They’re friendly and I make the obligatory reference to my grandparents in Hendersonville, NC, and how much I hate I-40 between Knoxville, TN and Asheville, NC.

In a matter of 20 minutes, the sky has gone pitch black, except for a full moon. We bounce up and down going down a dirt road in the pickup, with tree branches barely clearing our heads.

The bioluminescent bay is unreal … we kayak out about a half mile, our paddles taking on a turquoiseish glow every time they stir the water. I see schools of fish darting away as we advance … they too, light up. Place your hand in the water and it lights up.

The glow is the result of dinoflaggelates. The surrounding mangrove trees’ roots provide bacteria that manufacture B12, a nutrient for the dinoflaggelates (that’s as sciencey as I get here).

Sting rays apparently travel through this bay, but we didn’t have the opportunity to see one. The water – a bath tub-like 85 degrees - apparently has double the salt content of the ocean … when it touches your mouth, it’s as if you’ve finished off two bags of popcorn.

How many people does the tour guide show around each night? “I had 90 from Pfizer last night, and we had a group from Bristol Myers Squibb last week …” Lots of pharmaceutical companies on the big island, and lots of pharmaceutical tourists coming to Vieques – an unspoiled place, but for how long? The word has gotten out obviously if a person like me shows up … and soon after, there goes the neighborhood.