I want to go somewhere warm for spring break, but the places I’ve been considering—Jamaica, the Bahamas, and Mexico—either have concerning travel-advisory reports or have been making headlines for recent crimes. I can’t stop thinking about the tourist who was shot and killed in Tulum. Now I’m nervous. Is this just sensationalist news, or should I really avoid traveling to these destinations? —In It for Fun and Sun

Spring break is upon us, and many of Americans’ favorite sunny Caribbean destinations, long considered safe, have been making headlines of late due to crime and safety concerns, so this is a valid question.

On February 9, the boho-chic Mexican beach town of Tulum, on the YucatĂĄn peninsula, made global news when an American tourist was Ìęin the crossfire of warring drug cartels.

In late January, the U.S. State Department renewed travel warnings to Jamaica and the Bahamas. The agency rates (reconsider travel)—one level below its most severe Level 4 warning (do not travel)—citing in its advisory that “violence and shootings occur regularly in many neighborhoods, communities, and parishes in Jamaica,” and “sexual assaults occur frequently, including at all-inclusive resorts.”

The State Department considers the Bahamas a slightly safer destination, advisory (exercise increased caution), due to crime. The American Embassy there has reported 18 homicides in the capital city of Nassau since the start of 2024, prompting the agency to , cautioning travelers that “murders have occurred at all hours including in broad daylight on the streets.” With such news, it’s understandable that you’re wary of visiting these places.

“Travel advisories are always important to consider,” says Jack Ezon, founder of the travel agency Embark Beyond, in New York City. “We always tell clients to be vigilant, whether traveling abroad or at home. It’s also very important to put things into perspective. Safety conditions in Los Angeles, Chicago, San Francisco, and New York City are often just as precarious, if not more, but we do not put out warnings about our own cities. You need to be careful anywhere you are.”

One could argue that America is even more dangerous. According to the , there were 656 mass shootings in the U.S. in 2023.

I encourage travelers to look beyond the scary headlines and blanket advisory levels before deciding on a trip. Because if you read the advisories’ detailed explanations, you often get a different perspective. For example, the State Department also lists sharks and recreational watercraft such as jet skis among its safety concerns in the Bahamas. And while the State Department’s advisory notes that 13 of Jamaica’s 14 parishes are listed as “do not travel,” these warnings are specific to certain neighborhoods.

When pressed on whether State Department advisories accurately reflect the current safety situation in these host countries, a U.S. Embassy official in Kingston, Jamaica, told me that they share any restricted areas for government personnel with American citizens. These rely on historical data and current trends and patterns and are kept up-to-date.

Realizing that most potential tourists won’t do further research than a quick scan of these advisories, local officials in both Jamaica and the Bahamas have pushed back against the recent State Department warnings, hoping to give jittery vacationers peace of mind ahead of the high season for tourism.

Still nervous? I spoke with repeat visitors to these countries, government officials, and travel experts to get a better sense of why these destinations are being flagged as potentially perilous, and the precautions to take if you decide to go.

Is Tulum, Mexico, Safe for Tourists Right Now?

On February 26, the U.S. Embassy and Consulates in Mexico who plan to travel to Mexico to exercise “increased caution in the downtown areas of popular spring break locations including Cancun, Playa Del Carmen, and Tulum, especially after dark,” specifically flagging tainted drinks and synthetic drugs in the country.

Violence is another concern. Since August 2023, the State Department’s , where Tulum is located, has stated: “While not directed at tourists, shootings between rival gangs have injured innocent bystanders.” The most recent shooting was similar to a spate of incidents that have happened here in the past three years.

In 2021, during a shootout between drug dealers on Tulum’s main strip, and in February 2022, rival drug dealers opened fire at the upscale Art Beach Tulum restaurant, resulting in two deaths. In both cases, officials confirmed that the tourists weren’t targets, but simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. The same goes for the woman killed in cartel crossfire in February 2024.

Additionally, the advisory for the state of Quintana Roo added: “U.S. citizens have been the victims of both non-violent and violent crimes in tourist and non-tourist areas.”

I’ve been to Tulum three times, but my last trip was over a decade ago, when the beach town was still considered under-the-radar and attracted a mostly hippie, yogi crowd. Tulum has changed since then, says Zachary Rabinor, founder of travel agency Journey Mexico, whose main office is in Puerto Vallarta. “It’s become a hot spot for nightlife, with all-night DJ parties, recreational drug use, and accompanying risks that this type of behavior brings with it,” he says. Rabinor notes that there have been increased reports of petty crime and isolated cases of more serious crime in Tulum in the past five years.

At least have been identified by authorities as operating around Tulum and CancĂșn, and local authorities told that the latest round of violence is a reaction to the state’s efforts to clamp down on crime.

The State Department has givenÌęmost of MexicoÌęa Level 2 advisory, due to crime. That’s the same level of caution designated to 70 other countries, including Belize, France, Costa Rica, the UK, Italy, and Germany. Travelers to Quintana Roo, it states, should “maintain a high level of situational awareness, avoid areas where illicit activities occur, and promptly depart from potentially dangerous situations.”

I called a dozen Tulum hotels, and none reported cancellations as a result of the recent violence, but half reported receiving calls from concerned future travelers. A member of the reservations staff at told me she’s been reminding nervous guests that, with its myriad of wellness offerings and six restaurants, it’s possible to have a great vacation there without leaving the property. And if guests do want to venture off-site, Be Tulum can arrange private transportation for an extra charge.

I also reached out to expat Angelika Pokovba, who is Ukrainian and was raised in the U.S. before moving from New York City to Mexico City and then Tulum, where she has lived for the past four years. Although crime has surged at certain points during her time in her new town, she’s never felt unsafe. “Particularly now, it feels that much of the criminal and narcos chaos has calmed down,” she says, adding that “there is a lot less petty crime here than other places.”

While Pokovba believes that Tulum continues to be welcoming to international travelers, she suggests that visitors attempt to understand local culture and social cues. And speaking Spanish and having street smarts have been key to her experience, she says.

Still feeling uncertain? Mexico is a large country with plenty of other beach escapes to choose from. Journey Mexico created a with a state-by-state analysis to help travelers understand which areas have little to no travel restrictions. For barefoot-chic experiences with a similar vibe to Tulum, Rabinor suggests considering Isla Holbox, Puerto Escondido, Sayulita, and Todos Santos.

Is It Safe for Americans to Visit Jamaica?

Despite a spate of recent news storiesÌęflagging risks for travelers headed to Jamaica, the island has been listed at Level 3 since March 2022, said Donovan White, Jamaica’s director of tourism. In fact, the State Department routinely reissues advisories for countries across the globe throughout the year, and on February 7 it subsequently that the January 23 release specific to Jamaica provided an update on health care and medical services that American citizens receive if they are hospitalized there. It was not prompted by a safety issue. However, according to the U.S. Embassy official in Kingston, currently all parishes but two—Saint Mary and Portland, in the northeast—contain areas on the off-limits list for U.S. Embassy personnel.

In a January 25 , Jamaica’s minister of foreign affairs, Senator Kamina Johnson Smith, expressed her government’s disappointment that the recent advisory failed to reflect the country’s progress in improving safety. “It is not insignificant that Jamaica has recorded a more than 20 percent decline in serious crimes, along with strong improvements in arrests and prosecution,” she stated in the release.

The media attention around the advisory comes on the heels of a December 2023 that heralded Jamaica as a “beacon of safety,” ranking it as one of the safest locations in Latin America and the Caribbean for visitors. Crime involving visitors is low, just 0.01 percent, says White. The vast majority of crime occurs in non-tourist areas, much like in U.S. cities, says Terry Gallagher, a New York City–based publicist who works with the Jamaica Tourist Board.

In 2023, —a record for the island—3.1 million of whom came from the U.S. Moreover, Jamaica’s repeat visitor rate is the highest in the Caribbean, at 42 percent, which leads one to believe that many travelers feel safe vacationing there.

Kristin Hostetter, șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Inc.’s head of sustainability, is one of those repeat visitors. She’s vacationed in the western town of Negril with her family for 20 years, starting when her kids were just eight months and two years old. Most recently they visited in December 2023. And her family hasn’t holed up at the hotel; they’ve gotten out and about to explore the reggae scene, beaches, and culture.

“I’ve never felt threatened or scared,” she told me. “We take precautions if we’re walking on the beach at night, but you’d do that anywhere.” She notes that newcomers might feel threatened by the vendors on the beach. “You’ll likely be propositioned to buy weed ten times a day, but just smile and say, ‘No thanks,’ and they walk away.”

White reiterates that travelers visiting Jamaica should take the same precautions as they would on a trip anywhere, even in their own country. “Be aware of your surroundings, keep abreast of local customs and laws, and keep your belongings secure at all times,” he says.

Are the Bahamas Safe for Tourists?

Similar to Jamaica, the was not elevated recently by the State Department. The Level 2 advisory has been in place since 2022 and was reissued in January due to violence in specific neighborhoods rarely frequented by tourists.

A spokesperson of the Bahamas Ministry of Tourism, Investments, and Aviation says that the Bahamas is working to counter confusion caused by the advisory, by promoting the nation’s milestone growth of nine million visitors in 2023. That’s more than a 28 percent increase from numbers.

It’s important to remember that the Bahamas is an archipelago of nearly 700 islands, only 16 of which are tourism hubs, including Eleuthera and Cat Island. According to the , “The majority of crime occurs on New Providence (Nassau) and Grand Bahama (Freeport) islands.” And even on those two islands, it notes only certain specific neighborhoods, such as the Over the Hill area south of Shirley Street in Nassau, where travelers are advised to travel with extra caution.

“Gang-on-gang violence” is “primarily affecting the local population,” says the advisory. Latia Duncombe, director general of the Bahamas Ministry of Tourism, Investments, and Aviation, assured me in an email response for comment that the Commonwealth of the Bahamas has a plan to address public-safety concerns impacting these specific problem areas, including enhanced police presence to keep residents and visitors alike safe.

Crimes against tourists are rare but do occur. In May, were allegedly awakened in their vacation rental by three gunmen and driven to an ATM, where they were forced to withdraw cash.

Margie Hand, a Caribbean specialist with Andavo Travel, based in Salt Lake City, says clients traveling to the Bahamas have reached out recently and opted to book a resort instead of a private villa or home rental, due to the increased security offered at a resort.

, a thousand-acre beachfront resort complex on Nassau, was at peak capacity over Presidents’ Day weekend, and it’s expected to be similarly full throughout the spring-break season, says Baha Mar president Graeme Davis. “While we are aware of and monitoring recent incidents, it’s important to note that none of them happened near Baha Mar or Nassau resort areas,” he says, adding that the property has full-time security and surveillance staff who have direct access to the Royal Bahamas Police Force.

No matter the country, Hand advises travelers to be aware of their surroundings and book reputable group tours versus doing sightseeing on their own. “I also suggest that they leave expensive jewelry at home and to make use of the safes in their rooms,” she says. Further, she recommends that anyone traveling abroad sign up for the State Department’s free , designed to send U.S. travelers updated information on safety conditions in their destination, which might range from natural disasters to civil unrest.

What Precautions Should You Take if You Go to These Places?

No matter where you travel, Jack EzonÌęof the Embark Beyond agency tells travelers to adopt these safety tactics:

• Buddy up. Travel with a friend, family member, or companion.
• Don’t frequent establishments of ill-repute.
• Only use official taxis that are ordered through your hotel, restaurant, or other trusted source.
• Nothing good ever happens after midnight. If you’re out late, make sure to utilize the buddy system and leave no one behind.

If you’re a solo traveler, like I often am, I always tell my hotel receptionist where I’m heading when I go off property. I don’t accept drinks from strangers, and I limit myself to one alcoholic drink. And if I ever feel uncomfortable in a situation, I leave immediately.

Tragedies are unfortunately inevitable, but reading about a heli-ski accident or an avalanche fatality still hasn’t deterred me from skiing, and news of a shooting in Tulum or a burglary in Jamaica wouldn’t deter my beach holiday. It’s easy to let your guard down when you get into vacation mode, so consider the news and advisories as reminders to stay smart and sharp rather than scare tactics to keep you at home.

Jen Murphy has traveled solo to the Bahamas, Jamaica, and Tulum and has always felt safe in these destinations.

The post Is It Safe to Travel to Mexico, Jamaica, and the Bahamas? appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

After Hurricane Joaquin devastated his home in the Bahamas in 2015, flats fishing guide Elton “Shakey”ÌęMcKinney and his community were left to rebuild. Though the storm devastated the mangroves, an integral piece of habitat for fishing, filmmaker , with support from , was able to hook up with more than a few fish.

The post The Bahamas Are a Resilient Paradise appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Whether you’re seeking a warm weather escape or a quick Rockies ski trip, there’s a deal for you. Here are the airlines with some of the best fares this Cyber Monday.

JetBlue AirlinesÌę

Sale Ends: December 3 at 11:59 p.m. ET or your local time, depending on which comes earlier.Ìę
Travel Dates: December 10 to February 13, holidays excluded

This winter, JetBlue wants to help get you out of New York and other major cities. Scoop up the $109 flight to Phoenix, Arizona, for a weekend of canyoneering and desert exploration; or spend just $79 to get to the prime surf spots, coastal rock climbing, and jungle treks just outside of San Juan, Puerto Rico, which is seeing a major comeback following Hurricane Maria.Ìę

DeltaÌę

Sale Ends: December 4 at 11:59 p.m. ET
Travel Dates: Now through March 5, holidays excluded

The airline's sale page has deals on flights from almost every major airport in the country and is easy to navigate, with routes arranged according to region of departure. All the listed prices are for round-trips and guarantee a seat in the Main Cabin, which means certain perks on international flights, including welcome Bellinis and better food. The best discounts include warm escapes like New York to Costa Rica for $392 and Raleigh to the Virgin Islands for $369. Plus some major far-flung steals, like Salt Lake City to Shanghai for $500 and Seattle to Osaka for $744.

Ìę

Southwest

Sale Ends: December 5 at 11:59 p.m. PT
Travel Dates: December 16 to May 20, locations out of the continental U.S. vary, holidays excluded

Jot down promo code SAVE125 for $125 off flights within the U.S. and for fares as low as $39. The best deals in the offer will appeal to fliers looking to cover regional hops for a quick escape, with routes like Honolulu to Maui for $39, Atlanta to Nashville for $49, and Oakland to Lake Tahoe for $59. If you’re based in Florida, there are also good international flight deals fromÌęFort Lauderdale, Tampa, and Orlando to Caribbean destinations like Turks and Caicos, Grand Cayman, and the BahamasÌęfrom $79.Ìę

Ìę

Alaska

Sale Ends: December 4 at 11:59 p.m. ET
Travel Dates: January 7 to March 11

Alaska Airlines’ one-way flights can be as cheap as $29 until this Wednesday. The West Coast-focused flight operatorÌęis your best bet to hit popular destinations like San Diego, San Jose and Seattle.

Cathay Pacific

Sale Ends: December 3 at 11:59 p.m. PTÌę
Travel Dates:ÌęJanuary 1 to May 15

If you’ve longed to fly to AsiaÌęand happen to live around major airports like Seattle-Tacoma, Chicago O’Hare, or Dulles International in Washington, D.C., this Hong Kong-based five-star flight operator has your back. Take Los Angeles as an example: economy class tickets to eight destinations across Cathay Pacifics’ Asia-Pacific network, includingÌęBali, Kuala Lumpur, Hong Kong,Ìęand Singapore, start at $539—30 percent off its regular price. Expect up to 70 percent off on premium economy class tickets.

The post The Best Travel Tuesday Flight Deals appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Running Shallow, from and , features bonefish fly guide Prince Emmanuel, who’s learning the ropes from a few of the veterans on South Andros Island in the Bahamas.

The post The Life of a Bonefish Guide appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

The reasons you should take public transportation are many: It’s better for the environment. You’ll spend less time navigating traffic and more time taking in the scenery. You’ll waste less cash on a bus ticket than you would on a few tanks of gas. And while it may take a little longer to get where you’re going, you’ll enjoy the trip along the way. Here’s how to get out of town and let someone else take the wheel.

By Train

New York City

Board the Metro North at New York City’s Grand Central Terminal and you can be in the quaint riverside Hudson Valley hamlet of Beacon, New York, in 80 minutes. The revitalized downtown sports cafĂ©s, charming shops, and a happening art scene, thanks to contemporary galleries like . Explore 25 miles of trails in nearby Hudson Highlands State Park, or paddle the Hudson River in a rented kayak or atop aÌęSUP from . To get around town, borrow a bike from .

Chicago

It’s only a one-hourÌęride due west from Chicago to reach the town of Geneva, Illinois, making a trip on the Metra commuter railroad perfect for a day or weekend escape. You can walk everywhere you need to right from the station, and there are more than 30 miles of bike trails along the Fox River, with rentals, including kayaks, to be had at . Book a room at the waterfront , and don’t miss summer concerts or the treehouse playground at Island Park, accessed from town by a footbridge.

Chicago and Los Angeles

From Chicago or Los Angeles, you can take an 11-day tour of the Southwest aboard the legendary Southwest Chief via Amtrak’s program. The highlight is a two-night stay on the South Rim of Grand Canyon National Park, and you’ll visit four other national parks, including Utah’s Zion, Arches, Bryce Canyon, and Capitol Reef. You’ll also float down part of the Colorado River and spend a couple days in Moab.

By Bus

Seattle

For $10, you can load your mountain bike onto a Bolt Bus in Seattle, provided there’s room, and spend the weekend shredding 50 miles of rolling singletrack at Galbraith Mountain, just south of Bellingham, Washington. Afterward, grab a bite at and explore this coastal college town, sampling craft beers from more than a dozen local breweries along the way.

San Francisco

There are never enough parking spots at California’s famous Muir Woods, a 558-acre national monument just north of San Francisco filled with old-growth redwoods. So, starting this year, you have to reserve a spot ahead of time if you want to drive yourself. Instead, catch the public shuttle for just $3 per person from three easy-to-reach bus stops around the city. The best part? There’s no cell service at the monument, so even though you’re just across the Golden Gate Bridge, you can actually disconnect.

Washington, D.C.

Hop on a in Washington, D.C., and you can be reading a book in a beach chair at Dewey Beach, Delaware, 2.5 hours later—roughly the same time it takes to make the drive. You’ll find music festivals and movie nights on the sand, heated games of volleyball, and clams steamed in beer at the Dewey Beer Co. Earn your pints with an introductory or advanced kiteboarding lesson from surf shop.

By Boat

Los Angeles

Step aboard the Catalina Express ferry in Long Beach, Dana Point, or San Pedro, California, and in one hour you’ll be transported to tranquil Catalina Island, 26 miles off the coast of Los Angeles. Shack up at (from $229), just steps from the beach in the town of Avalon, or book a canvas tent cabin at Two Harbors Campground (from $70 per night). More than 165 miles of hiking trails cross the island, including 27 miles of new paths completed in 2017. offers gear hauling and guided hiking services and will cater three-course meals wherever you set up camp.

Miami

In 2016,Ìę'sÌęnew high-speed ferry began taking vacationers from Miami, Florida, to Bimini, an island just 50 miles away in the Bahamas. This is the tropical paradise where Ernest Hemingway spent his summers. Package deals (from $255) include the two-hour ferry ride and a room at the , which opened in 2015. While on the island, sign up for a yoga retreat, swim with dolphins, snorkel through shipwrecks, or go bonefishing in mangrove forests.

The post 8 Escapes You Can Get to with Public Transportation appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Feet in sand, cold beer in hand—does life get any better? Not really, which is why the highlight of a tropical beach vacation is often the moment you stumble upon a simple beach bar where the lobster is perfectly done, the proprietor tells stories for hours, and the drinks are tasty but lethal. No matter if you’re camping on the beach, Airbnb-ing it, or bunking at the Four Seasons—a beach bar without pretense is always a crowd-pleaser. Serendipity is, of course, part of the thrill—so we can’t help you there, but here are eight so good they’ve made a name for themselves (some even have websites!) and are worth seeking out.

The Soggy Dollar, British Virgin Islands

This in Jost Van Dyke (the smallest of the four main British Virgin Islands) earned its name by merit of its access route: You had to swim there. Once you’re good and salty, the drink to ask for is the painkiller, said to have been invented here in the 1970s. It is made of dark rum, cream of coconut, pineapple, orange juice, and freshly ground Grenadian nutmeg. Don’t have your own boat to moor nearby? There are ferries and water taxis from Beef Island and St. Thomas—but you’ll still get wet.

La Huella, José Ignacio, Uruguay

More than a dozen years after opening, the beachfront is still the epicenter of the scene in JosĂ© Ignacio, the thinking man’s exclusive alternative to casino and tourist riddled Punte del Este. The kind of place you go to unwind without hordes of people. It’s an accomplished restaurant serving top-notch sushi, South American-style grilled meats, homemade bread, and vegetables from a nearby organic farms. Book well in advance.

Scilly Cay, Anguilla

Eudoxie Wallace calls every woman who sets a foot in the sand of his “Gorgeous,” and he somehow gets away with it. That’s the first thing you need to know about this Anguilla institution, which Eudoxie and his wife, Sandra, have run for nearly three decades. It’s become such an Anguillan institution that the Wallaces run boats from the mainland, for visitors to feast on decadent lunches of lobster, crayfish, and chicken. (Skip the chicken. The crustaceans are enormous and delicious).

Pelican Bar, Jamaica

“Beach bar” is a bit of a misnomer for this . It’s a quarter mile from the beach—well, from any landmass—and 20 minutes by boat from Jakes hotel on Treasure Beach. The proprietor is a local fisherman-turned-barman named Floyd, and it’s hard to believe the charmingly dilapidated structure is still standing. Stay for a dinner of fried fresh fish—possibly a fish that you’ve caught yourself (bring gear) or by one of the fishermen who ferry guests out to the bar.

Sunshine’s Bar and Grill, Nevis

The owner—called Sunshine himself—won’t tell you what’s in his signature drink, the Killer Bee, beyond “some rum, some passion fruit juice, then some more rum,” but you should take his word for it. There’s a reason has become a Caribbean standout in the 12 years its been around. Sunshine still serves his potent cocktails under a thatched-roof bar that’s been through five hurricanes and two fires, and still fires up the same barbecue grills that got him started.

Bar do Ulysses, near Ubatuba, Brazil

Close to the cool colonial town of Paraty and the surfer city of Ubatuba, embodies the dream of barefoot Brazilian lifestyle. The best way to arrive is by boat from the nearby dreamy small hotel Pousada Picinguaba; the captain of the hotel’s schooner will call ahead to arrange for fresh grilled squid and icy Brahma beers to be waiting. There are hammocks on the beach for post-prandial lounging, as well as an easy access point for stand-up paddling.

La Gloriette, St. Barth

A welcome respite from all the dressed-up, champagne-spewing bars on St. Barth, is a classic feet-in-the-sand kind of establishment. The menu doesn’t extend much further than pizza: the ambitions here are refreshingly in check.

John Moore Bar, Barbados

It looks more like a gas station, but is one of the favorite bars on the island. Brightly painted but simple, the longtime rum shop is now a social community for its regulars and tourists who come to sample the Caribbean’s finest by the glass. There’s fresh local fish to soak up the booze.

The post 8 Spring Break Beach Bars for Grown-Ups appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Rule number one for outdoor lovers thinking about an escape to the Caribbean? Get off the beaten path. Otherwise you’ll be herded onto overdeveloped beaches and cookie-cutter resorts teeming with the same people you’re hoping to get away from. (If that’s what you want, a flight to South Florida is much cheaper.) Instead, touch down on one of these lesser-known islands, where you’ll find dreamy beaches,Ìęworld-class fishing, hiking, mountain biking, and, most important, no crowds.

Hike, Don’t Drive, on Saba

You can land on the five-square-mile island of (home to the smallest commercial runway in the world at 1,312 feet, with each end leading off a cliff) and get around using nothing more than your two feet. The airport and Saba’s two main towns, the and , are connected by a series of old walking trails. Before the appearance of in the 1950s, these canopied paths were the main thoroughfares for locals. Pack light and you can hike from hotel to hotel in under two hours through the rainforest, from toÌę. Or you can stop halfway and spend a night at the . In between, locals will point you to the , a staircase-like climb that leads to the island’s highest point and a sweeping view of Windwardside.

Don’t expect to find many beaches. Saba’s volcanic base gives it a coastline of jagged cliffs that top out at more than 3,000 feet. The island has only two legit strips of sand:Ìę and the man-made . No complaints here—it keeps the daiquiri-sipping tourists at bay.

Get there: Fly to St. Maarten, and then it’s a quick island hopper on to Saba. You can alsoÌę.

Dive the Blue Holes of Andros

The term “blue hole” has become synonymous with Belize, but the Bahamian island of Andros actually has the highest concentration of them in the world—178 on land and at least 50 in the sea. The holes are at the top of an expansive underwater cave network formed by the eroding limestone bedrock. Tourists can scuba and snorkel right through them. Chances are they won’t be crowded since there are no cruise ships or high-rises on Andros.

The blue holes at South Bight are the most popular because they have the most marine life. But Vermont native turned Andros local Jessie Leopold, owner of , also recommends the Crack, an area where on-land and in-ocean blue holes abut one another.Ìę

Need a rest day? Drive over a causeway from St. Nicholls or San Andros to , 14 miles from the airport. It’s home to a tribe of black Seminoles, ancestors of Native Americans and slaves from Florida who fled from persecution in the early 19th century. They’re known for living off the land and crafting palm thatch baskets. It is possible to visit, just be polite when taking photos.

Get there: Fly to Nassau and either or take a .

Mountain Bike in Haiti

In 2012, just two years after Haiti’s devastating earthquake, a small team of Americans visited the island in hopes of establishing the first professional mountain biking stage race in the country. On that trip, Chris Kehmeier, a trail specialist from theÌę, called one of the gnarliest trails he’d ever seen due to its steep, exposed, rocky terrain.Ìę

The following year, the was born (ayiti translates to “land of mountains”). Using Haitian vendors and local staff, the race injects money into the local economy. The took bikers a total of 65 miles through rural villages from the mountains of Port au Prince to the coastal region of Marigot. On the first day, the course climbed a bruising 8,000 feet into La Visite National Park.

Prepping for its third year this January, the race (not for beginners) showcases Haitian culture along with the stunning landscape. Labeled a “cultural immersion experience” by its creators, the event combines three days of biking with three days of historical tours, trail development, and themed celebrations to connect visitors and locals. The six-day program costsÌę$1,950 per person.ÌęNot in the mood to race? You can still access the trails, but contact MTV Ayiti to find a guide. Going it alone is not recommended.

Get there: Fly to Port au Prince direct from Miami.

Bonefish in Los Roques

The Bahamas may be known for excellent bonefishing, but if you want to ditch the crowds, consider , 85 miles off the coast of Venezuela. Yes, the South American country gets a bad rap, but that keeps this marine park immaculate and devoid of American crowds. The U.S. State Department lists a travel warning for Caracas and the Venezuelan interior, but Los Roques is a 45-minute flight in the other direction.Ìę

“Los Roques has aÌęseries of super-shallow pancake flats that are surrounded by deeper water,” says Michael Caranci ofÌę, the first group of anglers legally licensed to fish in the area. “The shallow flatsÌęhave a firm bottom that is perfect forÌęstalking fish on foot.” Because it’s closer to the equator, Los Roques enjoys a longer fishing season (February to October) than the islands of the northern Caribbean.Ìę

If you want to see some of the best preserved coral reefs in the Western Hemisphere, check out Ecobuzos Dive șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍűs.

Get there: You’ll need to to Los Rocques Airlines, Chaipi Air, Albatros, Blue Star, or LTA.

Get Your Diving Cert on Petit St. Vincent

is a private island at the southern tip of the Grenadines. It’s extremely small—just 115 acres. The island features only 22 cottages (no Wi-Fi or telephones) and two restaurants. But don’t worry about the lack of land, because you’ll be spending all your time off the grid and in the water.

Owned and operated by the son of Jacques Cousteau, Ìęopened in the beginning of November. The dive center offers guided and instructional dives through what Cousteau calls some of the healthiest reefs in the Caribbean. It’s only the second Jean-Michel Cousteau school in the world and the first in the Western Hemisphere (the other is in Fiji).

Divers can ride tidal currents through the , explore the , track down lobsters and six-foot-tall coral at Frigate Point, and explore the underwater cave at Sail Rock. Beginners can get PADI certified.

Get there: Fly to Barbados, and then change to Union Island. From there, it’s a 20-minute boat ride to .

Race on Nevis

Nevis has been given the nickname “Island of Sport.” Why? The islanders love competition. Take, for instance, the area’s buzzing Ìęand scenes or its (November) and the 2.5-mile interisland swim to (last Sunday in March).

That reputation keeps growing. Last year, Nevis hosted its firstÌę in September, featuring a marathon, half marathon, 10K, 5K, and 3K. It drew a modest 400 people, but with a second go-round already planned for September 2015, Nevis is shaping up to be a well-rounded destination for competitive racers.

The island is only 35 square miles and encircled by a 20-mile road—. The interior is connected by a series of forested hiking trails that skirt around and through the island’s highest point at 3,232 feet. You can also check out the fishing—recently installed have attracted tuna, wahoo, dorado, kingfish, snapper, barracuda, shark, and mahimahi.

When it’s time to put your feet up, locals recommend the beaches on the west side for relaxing. Don’t missÌę, , andÌę, where the sand is soft and the water calm. If you’re looking to stay active, head to the reefs of on the Windward side for snorkeling.

Get there: JetBlue and Spirit can get you to St. Maarten, where you can hop on a plane to Nevis or jump on a . American and JetBlue both go to San Juan, Puerto Rico, where you can switch to , ,Ìęor to Nevis.

The post 6 Caribbean șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍűs Without the Crowds appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

7 Perfect Island Getaways Around the Globe

From cheap hideaways to epic fishing and diving spots, we dug up seven crowd-free island escapes for every type of adventurer.

Maalifushi, Maldives
Great Abaco, Bahamas
Corn Islands, Nicaragua
Mumbo Island, Malawi
Niihau, Hawaii
Niue, South Pacificu
Jost Van Dyke, British Virgin Islands

Water World: Maalifushi, Maldives

7 incredible island getaways from around the globe

The English word atoll comes from ­Dhivehi, the official language of the Maldives. And with good reason. This nation consists of 1,192 islands spread across 35,000 square miles of Indian Ocean. Turquoise ­lagoons, pearlescent beaches, and coral gardens teem with over 1,900 species of fish, 400 species of mollusks, and 350 species of crustaceans, making it an aquaphile’s paradise. But it can be tough to put together a DIY trip in a place where the easiest way around is by boat or seaplane. Base yourself at , which can ­arrange your ­adventures for you (doubles from $650).

The hotel opens in December and is one of only two resorts in the rarely visited, pristine Thaa Atoll. You’ll stay in one of 66 thatched-roof bungalows and villas on the 20-acre ­island, half of which are raised on stilts above the water. When you’re not in one of the eight spa rooms, there’s plenty to do: fish for ­wahoo and grouper or go sailing in 25-knot winds, or snorkel or scuba with hawksbill turtles, schools of bluestripe snapper, or a few dozen manta rays at one of the island’s 40 dive sites. And while the December swells aren’t as good as the high season’s (April to October), (from $160 per person).

Access: Fly to the capital of Malé, then take a barefoot-piloted to the resort.

Trophy Heaven: Great Abaco, Bahamas


7 incredible island getaways from around the globe

The Bahamas are famous for their beaches and bonefishing. has both—with a little luxury thrown in. Blackfly, located in Schooner Bay, opened in March 2013 and is co-owned by Vaughn Cochran, a retired fishing guide, a marine artist, and an original member of Jimmy Buffett’s Coral Reefer Band. Each room has a broad veranda (with even broader views) and a custom-made colonial-style bed. Dinner is snapper, tuna, and mahi-mahi caught locally, complemented by organic fruit, vegetables, and eggs from nearby Lightbourn Farm. But all that is just an afterthought to the fishing. Blackfly has use of the only Atlantic-facing harbor in South Abaco—20,500-acre ­Abaco National Park practically abuts it—which means that anglers can stalk 30-pound permit and occasional 80-pound tarpon from six separate fishing zones, along with 12-pound bonefish from schools of up to 200 thick. From $2,300 per person for three nights, all-inclusive.

Access: Several airlines fly to Great Abaco from South Florida (Palm Beach is 175 miles east) and Nassau (106 miles south).

Two for One: Corn Islands, Nicaragua

7 incredible island getaways from around the globe

There was a time when visiting the Caribbean meant empty beaches, limpid waters, plentiful fish to catch (and eat), and ample cheap rum and beer. That idyll still exists on Nicaragua’s Big and Little Corn Islands. You can still score a $10 room on the combined five square miles of land—43 miles off the Caribbean coast­—and $70 gets you a ­bungalow with private veranda (and ­electrical outlets) at . Start by beach hopping on the Big Island: try Long Bay for bodysurfing, Sally Peaches for snorkeling, or South West for vegging out with a coco loco—a coconut and rum cocktail—at Martha’s bar. You can walk to any of them, but a cab is just 70 cents per person, no matter where you go. Then watch a Sunday baseball game in the ­island’s 2,000-seat Karen Tucker stadium for $1. ­

After you’ve had enough of the Big ­Island, take the daily water taxi 30 minutes to roadless , and rent a bungalow with Wi-Fi, fans, mosquito nets, and hot showers ($30). Little Corn’s position in the Caribbean makes for consistent winds that are ($50 for an intro course). You can also from a panga outfitted with two fighting chairs ($50), or take all that money you saved and splurge on a lobster dinner—it’s only $14.

Access: Fly round-trip from Managua to Big Corn on ($165). Then take a water taxi between Big and Little Corn ($12 round-trip; head to the Municipal Wharf in Brig Bay).

Simple Solace: Mumbo Island, Malawi

7 incredible island getaways from around the globe

Lake Malawi, a 2,300-foot-deep, 11,400-square-mile gem in southern Africa, is home to 1,000 species of fish—one of the highest concentrations on the planet. It’s also the site of half-mile-wide, 250-acre Mumbo ­Island, one of our favorite out-there getaways. The lake was declared a Unesco World Heritage site in 1984, and once you get underwater it’s easy to see why. There are more than 400 types of brilliantly colored freshwater tropical fish, like damsels, angelfish, and wrasses. Guests can snorkel or scuba with them past sunken knolls of granite boulders or kayak to the lake’s dozen islands for what Cape Town, South Africa–based Kayak Africa calls the top sea-paddling route in southern Africa.

Best of all, the outfitter limits occupancy to 14 guests at a time, putting them up in six furnished bungalows and tents with hammocks, thatched-reed roofs, and hot bucket showers. It’s bare-bones—there’s no electricity—but that’s by design. claims that if all tents and decks were removed, there wouldn’t be a human trace within a year. There’s also plenty to do on dry land. You can watch the hundreds of white-throated cormorants that nest on Mumbo or hike its five one-to-two-mile ­nature trails past rock fig and baobab trees. But after you’ve had a full day in and on the water, we won’t blame you if you just want to rest in that hammock. From $195 per person per night, all-inclusive.

Access: Fly to Malawi’s Lilongwe Inter­­national Airport ( connects through Johannesburg), drive four hours to Cape Mac­lear, on Lake Malawi’s southern end, and take the 45-minute ferry ride to the island.

Out of Bounds: Niihau, Hawaii

7 incredible island getaways from around the globe

Ever since this 70-square-mile spit of land was purchased in 1864 by Elizabeth Sinclair, a wealthy Scottish farmer, Hawaii’s Forbidden Isle has been most famous for being off-limits. But the wild landscape of arid, red-tinged volcanic terrain is easier to reach than you think: you can still take day trips from Kauai. Join Niihau Helicopters, which will land you on secluded beaches with nothing but shells, translucent water, and a few endangered monk seals ($400 per person; niihau.us). Or with monk seals, spinner dolphins, Galapagos sharks, and humpback whales (three-tank dives from $315).

Access: Trips start and end in Kauai. The 17-mile crossing takes 2.5 hours by boat. Stay at (from $346).

Wild Thing: Niue, South Pacific

7 incredible island getaways from around the globe

Eighteen hundred miles northeast of New Zealand, Niue can feel isolated. News on the island is only broadcast twice a week, swimming is frowned upon on Sundays, and, with just over 1,600 people on 100 square miles of the largest uplifted coral atoll in the world, it’s the least populated self-governing ­nation on the planet after the Vatican. But the quirks are part of the allure of this rocky cave-ridden island. Visitors can angle for ($55) or from July through September ($101).

But don’t ignore the land. Chasms and caverns perforate the island by the thousands. ­Until the early 1800s, Niueans inhabited them instead of houses, and even today there are fewer than 100 ­accommodations on Niue. Go for the large studios at the recently opened oceanfront , each of which has a private balcony perched on the rocky shore (from $106). The Huvalu Conservation Area tropical forest covers 13,000 acres, nearly one-quarter of the island, and has plenty of cycling oppor­tunities. or ride the 42-mile road around the island past beaches and along limestone cliffs (bike rentals, $12 per day).

Access: flies from Auckland weekly—the 3.5-hour flight crosses the ­International Date Line, arriving 20.5 hours before it departed.

Easy Living: Jost Van Dyke, British Virgin Islands

7 incredible island getaways from around the globe

Many know Jost Van Dyke, one of the handful of inhabited islands in the BVIs, as the barefoot island. Fifteen years ago, it had no electricity and few paved roads. That’s changed, but the atmosphere hasn’t. There are still no brand-name hotels—stay at , which offers essential amenities like iPod docks and charcoal grills (from $135). Then start with the adventure: rent 12- or 13-foot SUPs from , then head into Great Harbor to paddle near surfacing dolphins ($20 per hour). But take the island’s nickname to heart and spend some time padding between the 50-odd seasonal bars.

, located on White Bay, claims invention of the Painkiller (rum, pineapple juice, OJ, cream of coconut) and serves four-course dinners to the yachting set; boasts one of the biggest Caribbean New Year’s Eve parties in Great Harbor; and does barbecue every Thursday—and offers campsites for the inevitable postprandial collapse (equipped sites from $45).

Access: Fly to St. Thomas directly from the East Coast, and —or take the 75-minute public ferry from Red Hook, which is 25 minutes by cab from the airport.

The post The 7 Best Island Escapes appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

LATE IN THE SUMMER, a gentle southeast breeze nudges our vessel back to Florida from a trip to the southern Bahamas. I’d been right to expect a calm, reflective journey on the Ebb Tide, my old 42-foot Hatteras sportfishing boat. During our family’s past month at sea, there had been many adventures and fervent conversations to consider, along with evenings anchored out in the lee of a few lonely rocks, sitting on the bridge with a beer in my hand, feeling humbled by an epic, darkening sky.

Josh and Katya 20 years ago with mahi mahi

Josh and Katya 20 years ago with mahi mahi

Josh wiring a 250-lb. blue marlin

Josh wiring a 250-lb. blue marlin

I’ve made this passage many times since my dad first brought me to the Bahamas as a 15-year-old, fired up by the Odyssean blue-water conquests of Ernest Hemingway. Hemingway inspired me to learn how to read the ocean for color changes, weed lines, and feeding birds—the detective work of big-game fishing. I wanted to be like him in all respects. I wanted to write great books and battle 800-pounders and bring them back to the dock for enduring glory.

As a kid, I began learning the nuts and bolts of fishing by walking the docks of places like Montauk, New York, and Bimini, in the Bahamas. I drove tough-talking captains crazy with my barrage of questions: Where’d you find them? What bait did you use? How far out did you set your lines? What was the tide?

Early on I recognized that fishing captains were the real artists of the sport. Like magicians or visionaries, captains could find giant, fierce fish in the vast sea—they had dozens of crafty tricks for getting fish into the boat. Anglers were suckers who paid big bucks and sweated it out in the fighting chair, pumping and reeling. I idolized fishing captains like most boys idolized baseball players.

Now, cruising home after a month fishing, recent trips and older ones blend together. I recall days with my dad off Bimini when schools of giant bluefin crowded the ocean—you could almost walk across their broad, muscular backs—and marlin were free-jumping and finning on the surface. It was a great picnic out there.

In the 1950s, when I was a teenager, most anglers didn’t understand that the greater glory was in releasing marlin and tuna to fight another day. To us it was manifestly clear that the infinite ocean could never run out of fish. No one I knew fretted about the morality of killing big fish for sport. We brought our graying dead marlin and tuna to the dock and hung them up for photos like strutting gunslingers.

But today, 50 years later, it’s hard to catch any big fish off Bimini, the closest Bahamian island to Florida. Marlin and tuna populations have been depleted by international fleets of commercial longline and purse-seine boats that hunt with deadly technology and greed. Eighty percent of the Atlantic’s populations of bluefin have been wiped out and 50 percent of the marlin, mainly by commercial fishing. Each year thousands of Atlantic marlin are killed inadvertently on bait set for tuna and swordfish. Bycatch is the benign word used to describe tons and tons of uselessly slaughtered marlin.

When we search for marlin these days, we sometimes go through hundreds of miles of dead ocean before we find one off the rocky point of some distant island or in a stretch of racing current between two unmarked reefs. Traveling that far takes a lot of preposterously expensive fuel, costing as much as $12 a gallon, and when the big drums arrive in the southern Bahamas, the fuel is often filthy-old and gums up our diesels. Out where we fish, there are no mechanics to repair broken engines, no marinas to spend a safe night. Big-game fishing in its twilight is far-fetched and sometimes inescapably sad. But it is also beautiful and oddly enduring, in the manner of all dreams and myths.

FIVE DAYS EARLIER, before starting our cruise home on the Ebb Tide, my son Josh, my wife Bonnie, and I were heading into a brisk 20-knot southeast wind off the sparsely populated island of Rum Cay. My 24-year-old daughter, Katya, and Josh’s wife, Desi, had decided to get off the boat that afternoon, to explore the island and take photographs. Josh, 32, is a powerful man, a champion martial artist, and also a successful author. When he was a boy, he was a great chess talent, and we traveled the world together so he could compete in tournaments. I wrote a book about fathering a prodigy, Searching for Bobby Fischer, which was made into a film. That was a long time ago, but there are moments when I look at him and still see the tiny chess champ.

Josh and I were on the bridge looking for birds, not talking much, while Bonnie stood below in the cockpit. My wife enjoys big water, smiles enigmatically when we hit a large wave or fall deeply into the trough. I steered the Ebb Tide toward a spot several miles off the southeast corner of the island, where the drop is steep and there’s usually a lot of current.

This was our last fishing day of the summer. The next morning, Josh would leave the boat with Desi to go back to New York City. I wanted to catch a blue marlin, the best final act I know for a fishing trip or a fishing life. I knew Josh was hoping to catch a big yellowfin tuna for a sushi dinner before departing, but we hadn’t caught a single tuna in three weeks of trolling.

The three of us were feeling a little sad and wondering if we’d ever get back here again. Every summer these trips get harder to arrange, more expensive, more outside the context of our city lives. Surely some of this was in the air as I steered.

“Over there, Dad, birds,” Josh called, pointing east. I peered at the horizon but couldn’t see a thing. “Come on, man, turn the boat,” he said. “There’s a big school. Look at all the birds. Look, will ya?”

When I was young, my eyes were good and I could see the birds better than most. Now I often imagine birds where there are none and can’t see them when they are there.

“There’s a big school, probably yellowfin!” Josh turned the wheel, and I nodded as if I could see.

Soon we were very close and even I could see the boobies and frigates swooping down on the waves for scraps of baitfish. Almost surely we were on top of a group of feeding tuna. We trolled feathers around the birds and immediately hooked up. They were small blackfin, I guessed, delicious eating, but before Josh and Bonnie could reel their fish halfway to the boat, they each felt a sudden, heavy weight on their line and then nothing at all. Sharks had ripped the smaller fish off their hooks. I steered the boat into deeper water while Josh rigged two lures and pointed impatiently back to the west—he knew his father had, once more, lost sight of the birds.

We went through again, hooking up almost immediately. Josh fought his fish for 20 minutes. From the bridge I could see a golden greenish heft ten feet below, and I thought it might be a big yellowfin. But after a few more cranks of the reel by Josh, I saw that we had a furious bull shark thrashing alongside us, snapping its jaws and beating the hull with its tail. The 200-pound shark had grabbed Josh’s blackfin and hooked itself. Josh cut it loose and then rigged up again, difficult to do while the boat rolled back and forth amid the building wind and sea.

All around the Ebb Tide, fat yellowfin were jumping clear of the waves, but we needed to change strategy, shorten our lines so we could hook one closer to the boat. Josh sat in the chair, and we trolled yellow feathers through the school. We hooked a blackfin, and Josh wound like a turbine; an eight-pounder came skipping across the waves like a flying fish. A large shark burst out from the whitewater behind the boat, lunging for the tuna but missing. Sharks were everywhere, including ferocious oceanic whitetips that were beautiful to look at as they surfed down the breakers.

We caught a few more small blackfin, flipping them into the cockpit hold. Bonnie wore her straw hat and held a long brown-handled knife in her hand. (If you don’t bleed a tuna while it’s still alive, the flesh becomes engorged with blood and fouled.) Every time we caught a tuna, Bonnie slit it between the gills and put a saltwater hose into its mouth while the fish flipped around and pumped its blood onto the deck.

Then we caught a bigger tuna, a 30-pound yellowfin. After decking it, Josh carefully took the hook out with one hand while covering the tuna’s eyes with his other—a trick to calm a big fish so it won’t beat itself up on the deck. Then he lifted the tuna in his arms and carefully put it back into the sea. He turned toward me on the bridge with a vulnerable expression: remorse, confusion. It was the only time we’d caught yellowfin all summer. But this happens on the Ebb Tide. We’ll catch a few fish, and then one of my kids will be swamped by guilt. That often spells the end of a day’s fishing.

BY NOW THE SEAS WERE ROUGH and getting worse. I called down from the bridge: “Hold on!” The deck was slick with tuna slime and tangled leaders. At the top of a crest, the Ebb Tide gave us a great sight of all the frenzied birds and breaking seas—with yellowfin jumping out and finning sharks stalking tuna—and then we’d pitch over into the trough and just try to stay in the boat. There are still days when the fishing is sublime, as if the Atlantic has been tipped onto its side and all the great fish have poured into a few windy, desolate acres.

It was time to go in, but instead I pointed the Ebb Tide away from shore, away from the birds, and we trolled big lures in water where we knew we wouldn’t hook any tuna. We trolled for another hour, with dark clouds rolling in from the south—the leading edge of a tropical storm.

At about six o’clock, we got a tremendous strike on the port-side flatline, which came tearing off a hefty 80-pound test reel—it took something very big to pull a line like that. I told Josh and Bonnie to bring the other lines in, which they did as the boat pitched onto its side. Most of the monofilament was gone from the reel before the other lines were in the boat and I could start backing into the waves, now running eight feet or more.

We’d hooked a big blue marlin. It was a quarter-mile away, and soon it started exploding out of the ocean, again and again and again. Josh, holding the rod with two hands, called for the fighting harness. I began backing up so we could get some line onto the reel. Seas were rolling into the cockpit. Bonnie was clearing all the rods off the deck. I backed into the sea for a half hour while Josh pumped and reeled.

Finally, we saw the swivel clip connected to the last 15 feet of 300-pound test leader. Josh jumped out of the chair, grabbed the leader, and began hauling with his arms, putting everything he had into it. The marlin wouldn’t budge. It kept pumping back down, swinging its huge tail while Josh held on and tried to haul it up—a standoff for 10 or 12 seconds. Then the big fish suddenly yielded and we had it alongside the Ebb Tide. I guessed it weighed around 500 pounds.

When the boat heeled onto its side, it leaned up against the marlin, and when it rolled back the other way, Josh was all stretched out holding the leader. I worried he would go over the side. I turned the boat into a following sea to stop the rolling and take the pressure off his arm. Meanwhile, I noticed that the school of tuna had traveled our way and birds were again swooping down on both sides of us.

Josh leaned over the water; his mother hugged his legs while the boat idled forward. He held the bill with one hand, trying to keep the fish’s big head down in the moving water so it could breathe and regain its strength while using the other to work the hook out gently—no jerking. If the marlin panicked, it might whack him in the neck with its bill, or, worse, snag him with the hook and pull him under.

When the hook came free, Josh grabbed the bill with both hands. He held on for about two minutes, and I eased the boat away from the tuna—we were afraid the weakened marlin might get hit by one of the big sharks swimming with the school. Soon the marlin was looking fierce again, all lit up with livid blue horizontal stripes and swinging its tail. When Josh let go, it swam down and away, slowly and steadily.

THERE ARE MANY SUMMER DAYS when the Atlantic is like a lake, particularly north of Cat Island. Five days after we caught the marlin, we were traveling home, presumably with no more smashing seas to survive. The memory of the big marlin nagged at me while we moved across flat water south of Little San Salvador Island, headed toward the horn of Eleuthera.

I hate leaving adventures behind: big seas, the fish, but mostly the uncanny connection with my family, who are like a band of warriors whenever the sea becomes threatening. Katya was on the bridge with me, and we started talking about the futility of describing the sea life to our city friends.

“Kat, you haven’t missed a summer out here since you were a baby,” I said at one point, pondering the fact that she’d soon be in graduate school in California and no longer available for these trips. “You’ve caught a lot of marlin. Sixty-eight blue marlin.”

“Dad, you have no idea if it’s 68 or 63,” she said, razzing me a bit. “You just made up that number.”

“Well, it’s around 68,” I said.

“WłóČčłÙ±đ±č±đ°ù.”

Bonnie was below, sleeping, cooking, maybe reading. Katya went forward to sit on the bow. She took her familiar place on the boat’s pulpit, with her feet dangling down, almost touching the water, while she firmly held the railing above with both hands. She bit her lower lip and stared out to sea, striking the same pose she did as a skinny, brash seven-year-old who first climbed out there without my noticing. I figured she was wondering what to do with her life, if going back to school was the right decision. Katya looks at things very deeply and sometimes traps herself in doubt or fine-tuning. But her thoughtfulness is a joy to me.

We were in the Exuma Sound, beyond sight of land, with a hazy afternoon sky and seaweed floating listlessly on a hot ocean. Just three of us on board, but we were still a competent little crew—each of us could run the Ebb Tide if necessary. Still, I was missing Josh. It was as if the core strength of the boat had been seriously compromised.

The water seemed too calm, disturbingly so, and I wondered if bad weather was ahead. Soon the ocean was crowded with thick, shaggy spans of seaweed—some half as large as a football field—with plastic bottles, cans, and sundry chunks of garbage trapped in the growth. It was very weird, something I’d never seen before.

Katya came back onto the bridge. “What’s up, Dad?”

“I don’t know.” I recalled a day out here 25 years ago when we’d passed through a school of porpoises that went on and on for miles. From the tower, as far as you could see, they were racing, jumping, playing.

We watched the seaweed filling in around us like an ice floe. I worried that the greasy stuff would tangle the props or clog up the sea strainers, shutting us down in this lonely ocean.

But the Ebb Tide pushed through like an icebreaker. After another two hours, we’d made it across the unusual savanna, engines still running.

TWO DAYS LATER, we were 150 miles to the northwest, moving slowly across the Great Bahama Bank, a vast expanse of water as shallow as a pool. On a calm day, the Bank is mesmerizing. The clear water becomes a magnifying glass and the bottom—full of coral heads, spiny lobster, conch, snapper, and stretches of potholed sea desert—appears to be only inches away. We were just 75 miles from the Florida coast when we stopped for the night near undersea ledges where we could cast for snapper. There wasn’t another boat or mast to be seen in any direction.

I woke up in the middle of the night with my head smacking the ceiling three feet above my narrow bunk. The Ebb Tide was lurching in an awful way, the bow plunging down and then whipping back up against the short, shallow-water anchor line with an alarming snap. I found my boat shoes with my foot but couldn’t reach down to pull them on. I was banging against walls in the tiny cabin, trying to grab onto something. Somehow, my wife remained asleep in her bottom bunk.

I managed to get out my door and then up three steps into the salon. Katya was on the settee, holding on and staring out the window at huge black storm clouds illuminated by strings of lightning.

“Let’s get a better look,” I said.

We went outside and up the ladder to the bridge. The wind was blowing 50 knots, maybe more. We were surrounded on all sides by closing storms.

I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I pull the anchor? Try to idle into the wind? Or should we try to ride it out on the anchor? What was the best chance? At any moment, we could bottom out in the trough of a wave and founder or rip the bottom of the boat on a reef.

I decided we’d try to ride it out on the hook. But the boat was rearing like a crazed horse on a short lead. I feared the cleats would pull out of the deck. I needed to get out on the bow and play out another 100 feet of line to lessen the tension on the cleats. If Josh were on the boat, he’d crawl out there. But here’s the truth: With the boat plunging and jerking, and waves breaking across the bow, I wasn’t sure I could do it. If I went over the side in the dark with all of this wind and whitewater, I would never make it back to the boat. Still, I was the captain.

I was thinking this—maybe I said something to Katya—and looking for my flashlight when I saw that she was already off the bridge and shimmying along the gunwale toward the bow. I screamed into the wind: “Get back here!” But she was on the wet deck, moving low but very surely to the bow, where she wedged herself between the railing of the pulpit and one of the bow cleats to keep her balance. She waited between wave sets to get a little slack and then worked the hitches off the cleat. I was sick with worry that she might tangle in the line and get mangled or pulled over.

Then she snaked the line out a foot at a time, easing the boat back until it wasn’t pulling so hard on the upswing. She tied her hitches and double-checked them. Then she made it back across the deck, grabbed hold of the handrail, and came back along the gunwale and up the ladder to the bridge.

Bonnie was now standing beside me, and the three of us looked at the streams of lightning falling down, all around, creating deafening thunder. One of the thicker bolts seemed to explode when it hit the surface nearby.

“What would happen?” Katya yelled in my ear.

I didn’t answer. What would happen is that we’d be ashes or floating debris. Nothing much.

We watched the storm blowing up the sky. Maybe this is what it looks like at the very end, I thought. A final glimpse of a blast of light.

But we never got hit by lightning, which seems inexplicable. We never hit a reef. The storm rushed away to the north, like a vision, and the Bahama Bank got very quiet very quickly.

Almost instantly, we were mesmerized by the peaceful early morning, the vast expanse of shallow luminescent water. We watched a dozen small yellowtail snapper darting playfully beneath the transom of the Ebb Tide.

The new day was so convincingly immutable, as if marlin would always cruise the blue water just offshore of the islands. As if we’d always be here to appreciate them and the thick schools of tuna and the lurking sharks.

We didn’t feel like motoring back to the city, not yet. We went back to our cozy bunks and fell asleep.

New York City–based Fred Waitzkin is the author of Searching for Bobby Fischer, Mortal Games, and The Last Marlin. His first novel, The Dream Merchant, will be published in 2012 by St. Martin’s Press.

The post Trolling at Twilight appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Let’s just assume that you’re an active and adventurous person, who likes to stay at small boutique resorts that are rich in local flavor and culture. You’re bargain conscious, or at least you try to get great value for the money you spend. And you’re also very smart and doggone it, people like you. Sound about right? The quick answer would be Cancun. You can fly there straight from Dallas-Fort Worth. But Cancun is lame. If you want to go somewhere less trodden and more exotic in the Caribbean or Central America (and I know you do, Joni), you’ll have to make a bit more of a travel commitment–since there aren’t many direct flights to these destinations from your hometown airport. So I’ve got three recommendations for you to places where the hopping, skipping, and jumping to get there either isn’t too painful or is part of the fun adventure. (I also encourage readers to post their own suggestions to Joni in the comments section below.) Here are my three relatively nearby exotic beach destinations.

Cheap: Casa Iguana, Little Corn Island, Nicaragua
Little Corn Island is a chicken drumstick-shaped spit of land about 45 miles off the east coast of Nicaragua, where its 750 residents speak English and there are no cars, motorized vehicles of any kind, or even roads. The big activities among visitors here, besides lazing on the beach and sipping rum drinks are diving and snorkeling among the reefs, and sport fishing (though you can also surf and windsurf). Getting there requires a bouncy 45-minute ferry ride from Big Corn Island, which in turn is accessed by plane from Managua. You can stay at the solar- and wind-powered , on 30 beachside acres. Cost for a deluxe casita: $65 a night.

Moderate: The Cove, Eleuthera, Bahamas
Eleuthera boasts some of the most spectacular pink sand beaches in the Caribbean, yet has managed to resist becoming overrun with resorts or tourists. Getting there means hopping a connecting flight from Ft. Lauderdale or Miami. When you arrive, stay at the trendy but surprisingly not expensive , a 30-acre resort with 26 rooms and suites that are empty of TVs and phones in a secluded cove that boasts top-notch snorkeling just off the shore and is only ten minutes from the best surfing beach in the Bahamas. Rooms run $199 a night.

Moderately Pricey: Nonsuch Bay, Antigua
Truth be told, the friendly, unpretentious air of even the finest of the island nation’s many high-end boutique resorts is just as attractive as Antigua’s long, white sandy beaches. is a somewhat affordable collection of 55 colonial-style luxury cottages and villas on 40 quiet acres fringing the wide and wind-kissed, reef-protected inlet of the same name on Antigua’s eastern shore. The small-boat sailing and kitesurfing within Nonsuch Bay are world class, as is the resort’s staff instructor for its sailing school. Getting to Antigua means you’ll have to connect in Miami. This paradise runs $360 a night.

The post Where is the best place to go in the Caribbean or Central America? appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.