Gringo3

Part III

Setting off from Esperanza

The third and final day of competition was based on the island of Vieques, 8 miles due east of one of the main island's bigger port cities, Fajardo. A private ferry whisked us to our destination while flying fish ripped across wave caps. Once on the small island we made our way to the town of Esperanza, the smaller, quainter of the island’s two towns where we were picked up by a small dive boat. Buzzing past rocky coral cliffs topped with lush hurricane-proof vegetation, our captain pointed out some of the more remote and hard-to-reach white sand beaches. We didn’t see a single person or inland structure for miles and when the anchor dropped to the seafloor beneath us, the sun began to bake us to crispy perfection. It was then that we were given the instructions for our next challenge: snorkeling.

In my mind, I always saw snorkeling kind of like I see golf. The activity moves – as it should – at a snail’s pace, and to get the best of it, one needs an expansive travel budget. I had heard of speed golf and saw that as a way of springing things up a bit, and that’s just what they did for us in the clear water off Vieques. Our leader gave each of us a printed copy of a satellite image. Superimposed over the image was an x marked by “you are here,” and a shaded circle of about a half mile

Climbing the Coral

away. “There is a plastic box on the seafloor in this circle somewhere,” we were told, after explaining that each of our names was written on a note inside a small waterproof box that had been anchored in the 20-foot water. Each of us had to find our own box, detach it from the rope anchoring it to the bottom of the sea, and return it to the dive boat. We donned our masks and flippers, dropped into the ocean, and waited for our starting command.

I was annoyed by the fact that this competition would be influenced in part by luck. I knew there were three cases attached to the seafloor, but was aware that the one who coincidentally happened upon the one with his own name in it would likely be the one to win the event. The only way to push to odds would be to arrive at the location of the boxes first. Oh, and I have a really lousy stroke and truly hate swimming.

Inverted Aerial - Navio Beach

Swimming at the quickest pace I could muster while wearing a snorkel was a challenge but it was diminished a bit by the scenery – most of the colorful fish scattered from me but the rays just ignored me as I swam past. A half mile is a long way to go in open seas in my book and I had to stop to check my heading frequently.  Reaching the boxes within a minute of each other, the three of us swam a 3-dimensionally chaotic course between points on the surface and the sandy bottom, gasping for air after each ear-popping descent. By the time we found our boxes and returned them to the dive boat our lungs were ripe.

The Navio Run

Our second event of that long day came after discovering the current winner of my personal lifelong quest to find the best fish tacos in the world (though based on the number of diners at Duffy’s in Esperanza, they don’t need a plug). While we digested, it was explained to us. Following a ¼ mile sprint across remote and beautiful Navio Beach, we’d rock-scramble our way up one of the sharp coral bluffs bordering  the soft sand, out to a 10 foot overhanging bit for a flying leap into the aquamarine waters. Then, a swim to three moored kayaks awaiting us would wrap up the stage, and the third stage, a kayak race, would come next.

Eight months later, I was back in Esperanza, eating those fish tacos once again. I’d won the return trip for two, but instead there were three of us.

To be continued . . .

In the next part: gringo tourists are welcomed with open arms when carrying red-headed white babies

Photos: Moncho Dapena & Ryan Bair

Production Assistants messing around in Esperanza