In the face of possible death, the private airport was just where I wanted to be.

An unassuming, unmarked building hidden behind a wall of shrubs, the Provo Airways Airport is reserved for the kind of people who have money for private jets. The sliding glass doors parted, and I was met with a blast of cool air that I hadn’t felt in weeks.

We were in , celebrating the birth of our second son. By mixing some work with a little vacation time, we had managed to piece together three weeks on the island. Reasonable airline prices, a quick flight, and still off the must-see destination radar, it was an ideal place to get away from everything while adjusting to our new normal.

About 20 people milled about, huddled in small groups of five or six, all decked out in designer sunglasses and big watches. Most were looking at phones; a couple people actually looked bored. I wiped a piece of vomit from my shirt and tried to focus. There were sleek white couches everywhere, centered around a long marble counter that displayed pitchers of ice water swimming with fresh fruit. A large display held a variety of snacks, and a uniformed woman was casually refilling coffee cups while restocking the bar. A room off to the right had a children’s play area to entertain the handful of kids who ran about, blissfully unaware of the Category 5 hurricane roaring toward us. had already destroyed Antigua, Barbuda, and Saint Martin and was on track to hit us the next day, Wednesday, September 6. Today was our last chance to get out of its way, and it clearly wasn’t going to be easy.

I felt immediately out of place here: My shorts and once-white shirt were stained with sweat and dried baby food. My hair was clumped into tiny knots from the saltwater, and sweat was literally dripping off my chin. I stepped quickly toward the kitchen area, wiped my forehead with a napkin, and waited for someone to throw me out.

A woman named Debbie seemed to be in charge. A cellphone in one hand, a landline in the other, she was typing while fielding questions from a handful of underlings. I needed to talk to Debbie. I walked up to the counter, hovering nervously until she took a breath.

“Hi,” I said with a forced smile. “Obviously, we are trying to get off the island,” I joked half-heartedly. “Do any of these jets have any spare seats to sell?” I hoped to sound like I traveled via private jet every day, but I had a feeling my clothes gave me away.

“Actually, yes,” she said. Debbie’s eyes narrowed as she motioned toward the back corner with the pile of papers in her hand. “That man right there was just asking people about his extra seats. I don’t know if he’s filled them yet, but you can ask.” Then she disappeared into a back office.

I looked at the gray-haired man with tortoise-rim glasses who was talking on his cellphone, casually filling his coffee with creamer. He was dressed the way someone who traveled like this would dress: sharp. Two younger men, mid-twenties or so, were standing with him. I stood in the opposite corner and waited for the older man to get off the phone, then I walked over.

“Are you the gentleman with the jet?” I asked casually.

He had two friends running late and offered their seats to me and the baby but slowly shook his head as my family grew to four. “Only two seats,” he said, as he looked down to avoid my gaze.

I went back to Debbie and took her aside. “No dice,” I said, hoping to sound grateful before I dropped the next one on her. “Would you mind if I made a sign?” I asked quietly. It seemed tacky at this sleek, expensive airport: a sign begging for a ride off the island.

“Good thinking,” she said, handing me a sheet of printer paper.

What should I write? I had no idea, but in the end I pulled out some basic marketing skills: red ink from the business center, capital letters, and make it personal.

HELP. FAMILY OF 4 NEEDS A RIDE TO ANYWHERE IN THE USA. CAN BE HERE IN AN HOUR. TALK TO DEBBIE FOR DETAILS.

How should I sign this? PLEASE? Too desperate. THANK YOU! Too eager. Eventually, I settled on signing just our names—Matt, Kathleen, Connor, and Andrew—and wrote our ages beside them.

I looked at Debbie, embarrassed. “Can I make another one?”

I taped one sign to the wall adjacent to the check-in desk, slightly above eye level, and I stuck the second on the glass door at the entrance of the airport, directly in view of anybody who walked in. I retreated to my corner: six hours until the airport closed and we’d be stuck here to ride out the hurricane.

After ten minutes, I went over to the glass door and drew a line through the four, and made it a two—the kids could sit on our laps.

Thirty minutes later, after still no luck, I crossed out the two and made it a one. One of us on the plane, kid in the lap, and baby goes in the backpack.

In our defense, we had been trying to get off the island for four days. We were booked on a flight for a departure on Thursday, September 7—by most initial predictions, clear of anything hurricane-related. All the seats between now and then were full; standby was only available if our flight was canceled. The predictions for when Irma might hit us changed depending on who you listened to, but the consensus soon became that, at this rate, Thursday would be too late.

“Your only real chance at an earlier flight is if we send a bigger jet between now and then,” the Delta rep told me when I called her on Sunday, September 3.

“How likely is that?” I asked for the second time that day, although the response was different this time.

“I’m kind of expecting it any minute,” she assured me, but she also directed me to a tiny section of the Delta website for updates. With one eye on the news, we tried to enjoy the last couple days of our trip at a rented vacation house, and the weather was happy to cooperate: There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

On Sunday night, we called the other airlines that serviced the island. After some back and forth about going to Toronto via Jamaica, we resigned ourselves to a worst-case scenario: We weren’t getting out. It would be an adventure, we told ourselves. Kind of like camping: No electricity for a night, but movies in a bathtub! No dinner, but candy for everyone! I posted on Facebook for some help: “Getting ready for a hurricane, need a playlist. Any suggestions?”

A little more brainstorming, and our camping adventure buzz fizzled out: How long would we be here? After in August, the airports had taken, what, three days to get back up and running? Would our cellphones even work that long to call the airlines? As for the actual storm, we realized the two of us would be fine, and the baby would be OK (all he did was sleep), but the four-year-old would be climbing the walls to get out of a bathroom, not to mention scared to death.

Things changed on Tuesday. Irma had picked up speed and was on target to hit Antigua and Barbuda that evening. The news reports were growing increasingly dire, and we made another phone call to Delta. No change, they said. Their confidence about scheduling a half-billion-dollar plane to land at the airport gave me a little lift, but not much. Were they watching the same news I was?

My phone was filling up with questions about when we were getting out of there, and my playlist had gone from humorous (Irma Thomas, “It’s Raining So Hard”) to serious (“Home Sweet Home” by Mötley CrĂŒe).

More ominously, the weather had taken a turn. Our clear skies were still there, but the horizon was dark, and we could see sheets of rain across the island. I was outside painting with my four-year-old when a large gust of wind came across the sound, knocking over a chair, blowing his pictures everywhere, and tossing a small coconut onto the deck, where it left a dent. My son loved it and spent the next hour painting it varying shades of brown, but I became worried and changed from my swimsuit.

As Irma worked its way up the newsreel, I started digging a little deeper. The projections for the hurricane path looked like someone took a plate of spaghetti and threw it against a wall. It could literally go anywhere from Mexico to Canada. The entire continent of North America? What the hell kind of prediction is that?

“I’m going to the store,” I said after a brief conversation with my husband. “Be back in a bit.” Our hurricane prep list was short—we had plenty of food—so I just wanted to get a few last things. I bought a couple cans of baby formula, a rotisserie chicken, and a coloring book. On my way back, I passed the Turks and Caicos brewery on my left, where the normally buzzing depot for locals to get filtered water was no busier than usual. Across the street, the Quality Grocery seemed a little more crowded, but I cracked a smile when I saw a group of men lounging casually around the door, laughing and drinking beer. It’s like a New Orleans hurricane party, I thought cheerily, pushing Katrina to the back of my head.

Back at the rental house, my family resigned ourselves to staying calm. “It’s not like we can put on a life vest and start rowing. We’ll be fine,” I told my mother over the phone, trying to sound convincing.

I was only half listening as she responded with something about her friend and . Although I knew enough about the timesharing jet service to know that one wasn’t coming to get us, I did drag out my computer and do a quick Google search on the private airport.

Tuesday night was a restless one, and between the news and the baby, I was hardly sleeping. In the wee hours of Wednesday morning, news began trickling onto the internet from Antigua and Barbuda. It was slow at first, but soon a steady flow of photos and shaky videos emerged, each more concerning than the last.

One particular video caught my attention: Shaky cellphone footage showed a street filled with water, the wind blowing steadily, whipping the palm trees into a frenzy. “Not so bad!” I thought. As the sound got louder, the tree hit a 90-degree angle and within seconds was ripped apart, sending leaves and wood chunks hurtling into an adjacent building. It was terrifying.

Our rental house became a flurry of muted activity, throwing our stuff into the car while trying not to wake the kids. One of us pressed redial and got the Delta automated menu. Between tossing clothes into suitcases and trying to pack the car, we somehow managed to get a representative on the phone. No change.

Some further internet searches (“How far by boat to Miami,” “Turks and Caicos flights to London”) had uncovered a rumor that was circulating: The Providenciales airport was closing at 6 p.m., effectively canceling our Thursday afternoon flight. What. The. Fuck.

I called Delta again; the hold music made my blood boil. When I finally got someone to answer, I told them about the airport closure.

“We have no record of that,” she said.

I drove to the airport, where there was an undercurrent of panic. Two long lines snaked through the building, and people like me were showing up to try to figure out what was going on. It was still dark, but people were arriving in droves. I heard the couple behind me gasp at the line and start talking furiously back into their cellphones. I headed over to the shortest line I could find and tried some deep-breathing exercises. After a brief wait, I stepped up to the Caicos Transport counter.

“Can you tell me where the Delta counter is?”

He pointed to an empty ticket counter with a group of ten or so people huddled together nervously.

“They get here at 11 a.m.”

I looked at my watch. It was 6 a.m.

“And the airport is closing at 6 p.m.,” he said.

“Do the airlines know?” I asked in a whisper.

“Have to ask them,” he said and motioned for the next person in line.

I wandered over to the Delta line, where a group of guys sitting on the floor were a couple steps ahead of me. “We’re all waiting for standby on this plane. Delta doesn’t know that the airport is closing at 6, and they won’t take standby over the phone.”

“But the agent wouldn't be here until 11 a.m.” I told them.

They one-upped me. “Track the outgoing plane on , you’ll be able to tell if Delta is sending a bigger jet. We’re here in case they do.” Someone behind me started crying.

By daybreak, I was headed to the nearby hotel where my family had checked in—it had three stories and seemed safer than our rental house if the waters rose—to drop off the food, baby gear, and a car full of gallon water bottles. I was driving horribly and I knew it. Speeding away from the international airport, I entered a roundabout and missed my exit, forcing me to turn around in an empty expanse of pavement. As I threw the car into reverse, the bag of groceries toppled from the pile of suitcases and the chicken fell into my lap. I opened the door and tossed the carcass into a nearby bush, when my eye landed on a tiny plane humming behind a gate. Tiny blue lights lighted a small runway, but I was halfway to the hotel before I realized that was the private airport I had Googled earlier.

Which is how my signs ended up in the private airport. I was staring at them, hoping someone would notice them, when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Is that your sign?” said a voice behind me. I turned and faced a man dressed in a pink polo shirt, with a wife and kids smiling at me in his wake.

“Yes, it is,” I said, unable to hide the desperation in my voice. “Do you have an extra seat?”

As it turns out, he had three and a soft spot for babies.

Racing to the car, I dialed the hotel four times before I connected to our room.

I struggled to remain calm. “Listen,” I told my husband. “I need you to meet me in front of the hotel. Bring only what you need. We’ve got a ride, but it’s about weight, we can’t bring too much. Do you understand?”

If our family has one thing to work on after this, it’s life survival skills. Screeching on two wheels to the front of the hotel, I saw my toddler climbing on a pile of suitcases and the baby stuff everywhere. A light scuffle later, and we were roaring toward the airport—half our bags in the car, and the other half laying in small piles and around the hotel entrance. I ran inside. Debbie shook her head at me and pointed out the window: We had missed it.

Debbie said that a cargo company from Florida had called and asked if they should start running planes to the island. My heart leaped, but there was a caveat: They would only come if there were 30 people willing to pay. “Sign us up,” I said. I didn’t even ask about the price. After seeing men out front crying, what wouldn’t I pay? I swallowed hard and handed her my credit card.

“Are we going to have a problem getting 30?” I asked her.

“I don't think so,” she said, looking around. I knew she was right and started herding people toward Debbie to fill our passenger list. The next couple hours were spent barricading my kid into the children’s corner and sending incoming people to the desk to talk to Debbie.

The flight wasn’t cheap: $1,500 per seat, plus tax and a departure fee. I counted my blessings that we could afford to get out of there. It was going to be a hard pill to swallow, but it wouldn’t kill us. As I watched the news coming out of from Saint Martin, I knew it was worth it: The island was decimated.

Word had starting getting out that there were seats, and a steady stream of people started filling up the airport. The food and water evaporated, and there was an occasional outburst of yelling and tears when people realized our charter was full.

The lucky ones who were waiting for the plane relaxed a bit and started swapping stories. One person said that, earlier that morning, a generous man had sent his half-empty plane back to the island to fill it up. On the other hand, I had to walk away when I heard a man cry softly to a pilot, “But I don’t have $26,000 to give you.” His teary wife pulled away the kid tugging on his sleeve.

I looked straight ahead, doing my best to remain positive: We were booked on the flight, they had run our credit card, and the plane was here. We were close.

At 5:30 p.m., I walked over to Debbie. “I just wanted to say thank you, you know, for the signs and everything that you did,” I said. “I really can’t thank you enough.”

She smiled as she leaned against the counter, chatting with another girl beside her.

“I guess you’re staying here?” I asked. “Are you going to be OK?”

“I’m here,” she said. “Been here for nine years. Not going anywhere. We’ll be fine.”

I was just about to say something else when I heard a loud pop, and I turned around to see a group of women pouring champagne into plastic cups. Never one to pass up a chance to celebrate, I asked Debbie where I might find a bottle of our own.

“That was the last one,” she said. “And believe me, they deserve it.”

â€ÂÙŽÇ°ù°ùČâ?”

“We could only get 30 people on this plane, and that woman,” she gestured toward the younger of the blondes, “wouldn’t leave her mother,” she said as she pointed to the older blonde. “So, they’re both staying.”

A short time later, a woman began calling names from a clipboard, and one by one, we gathered in a small group around the gate. After a brief wait, the doors opened, and my four-year-old adjusted his headphones and strolled out ahead of me, not taking his eyes off whatever was on my iPhone, his swimsuit still damp from the pool.

We quickly found our seats. I looked out the window and saw the two women sipping champagne. The engines hummed a little louder, and the doors shut on the 29 passengers.

I looked at my watch again: 6 p.m. I didn’t stop shaking until we landed in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.

The post How I Escaped from Hurricane Irma appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Bahamas
Fly-Fishing

“PUT THE FLY RIGHT ON HIS HEAD” is the common refrain of sight-fishing guides to their clients standing knee-deep in the crystalline Atlantic waters off Long Island, a four-mile sand strip 165 miles south of Nassau. In some cases, the head belongs to a six-pound bonefish; in others it’s a tailing, manhole-cover-size permit. And when the fly drops, more often than not the fish devours it. So goes pretty much every experience with the crew from Bonafide Bonefishing. With everything from flats casting off white-sand beaches to raiding a secret permit stronghold accessible by a 45-minute boat ride from Stella Maris Resort, the 80-mile-long isle makes it tough to say they weren’t biting. Be sure to request either Docky or Alvin Smith, longtime guides who are often booked six months to a year in advance.

PLAYTIME: Bonafide offers day trips from Stella Maris for bonefishing, permit fishing, and reef fishing. Rental rods and gear are available, but they suggest that you bring your own. From $450 a day for two;

ISLAND LIVING: Relax in the newly developed Stella Maris’s Love Beach Bungalows. Set on five acres, each of the three cottages offers two-bedroom, two-bath accommodations, all facing a swimming lagoon and beaches. An SUV is available for unencumbered on-island excursions. From $1,365;

Antigua

Sailing

Antigua

SAILING IN THE CARIBBEAN? It’s tough to narrow down to just one island, we know, but if there’s a single place that balances both the sport and its well-lubricated after-hours lifestyle, it’s 108-square-mile Antigua. The island has become the quintessential yachtie hot spot and, from late April to early May, hosts more than 1,500 sailors during Stanford Antigua Sailing Week, the Caribbean’s second-largest regatta. More than 200 boats race in eight different classes, with participants ranging from landlubbers on chartered sloops to America’s Cup winners crewing billion-dollar boats. And when the sails drop, the long pours begin. The island’s own Antigua Distillery churns out award-winning rums (pick up a bottle of the English Harbour five-year-old). In Falmouth Harbour, where many of Sailing Week’s festivities take place, work your way from the Last Lemming to the Mad Mongoose and then on to Skullduggery, where it’s required that you have at least one espresso martini before hitting up the bars in English Harbour.

PLAYTIME: A slew of private charter companies like Horizon Yacht Charters, whose founder, Andrew Thompson, often races in Sailing Week, operate out of Antigua (a full list is available at ). Qualified captains can take off on their own, or you can always hire a skipper.

ISLAND LIVING: If you don’t feel like sleeping where you sail, grab a room at the newly opened—and swanky—Antigua Yacht Club Marina and Resort, in Falmouth Harbour. They’ll even dock your boat for a daily rate. Doubles from $277;

Bonaire

Diving

Bonaire

THE AQUATIC BOUNTY and 80-plus-foot visibility in the waters off this arid, mostly flat isle 50 miles north of Venezuela inspire a kind of reef madness among scuba divers. “Bonaire has some of the nicest diving in the world,” says Bruce Bowker, who came to the island in 1973 as its first full-time dive instructor. “It’s like jumping into an aquarium.” Just a flutter-kick away from the island’s leeward shore, you’ll find seahorses, soft corals swaying like hula girls, and swirls of sergeant majors and blue tang. Eighty-nine buoy-marked dive sites, all within the Bonaire National Marine Park, shelter almost 500 species of fish—more than can be found anywhere else in the Caribbean.

PLAYTIME: Bari Reef, on the island’s western shore, is said to be the best fish-spotting location in the Caribbean. Hook up with Bonaire Dive & șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű’s Jerry Ligon, a naturalist who can help you on your way to identifying more than 100 different species of fish. From $40;

ISLAND LIVING: Opened in September 2007 on a hillside overlooking the sea, La Pura Vista is a five-room guesthouse with a mosaic-tiled pool. Doubles from $125;

Puerto Rico

Surfing

Puerto Rico

A MULTISPORT DRAW, Puerto Rico offers enough mountain biking, hiking, snorkeling, and diving to keep an energetic visitor occupied for months. But it’s the surfing—centered around the town of RincĂłn, on the western shore— that you’ll come back for. Tied with Huntington Beach, California, for hosting the most ISA surfing events, Puerto Rico reigns as the surf mecca of the Caribbean, with 310 miles of coastline. “All the other islands have open windows, but they’re small,” says Rip Curl team rider and Puerto Rico native Brian Toth. “PR has huge open windows for swells to come through.” The 2007 World Masters had surfers barreling off RincĂłn’s point break, Maria’s, which produces waves up to 14 feet. Toth’s favorite break? Jobos, near the town of Isabela, 45 minutes from RincĂłn, which pumps perfect rights most days.

PLAYTIME: Waves break consistently from October through April—pass up the standard foam board for a lesson on a classic fiberglass longboard with Playa Brava Surf Underground. Surf-school owner Tupi Cabrera takes pride in his island because it has the widest variety of waves and, in his words, “it’s freakin’ cool!” Ninety-minute lessons from $40;

ISLAND LIVING: RincĂłn’s luxurious Horned Dorset Primavera Hotel has 22 private, plunge-pool-adorned villas on four hillside oceanfront acres. Doubles from $610;

British Virgin Islands

Sea Kayaking

British Virgin Islands

WITH ABOUT 35 ISLANDS situated miles apart, consistent trade winds, and strong currents, the BVIs inspire connect-the-dots sea kayaking. But one route stands out: a 14-mile open-water crossing from Virgin Gorda to Anegada, a flat, coral-limestone island that was once a pirate haven with blissful beaches, low-slung brush, and almost as many iguanas and flamingos as locals. Horse Shoe Reef envelops the land in thick and treacherous coral growth, meaning boats need to steer clear or join the 200 or so offshore shipwrecks. But the inner-reef waters are ultra-calm, and your kayak will allow you to snug along the shoreline and squeeze through the narrow inlets to salt ponds, where you’ll find some of the Caribbean’s most diverse and abundant wildlife. Look for brown boobies, pelicans, herons, egrets, and ospreys flitting among the piles of conch shells. Then kayak to the north shore, where you can snorkel for treasure or paddle south to fish the flats.

PLAYTIME: Arawak Expeditions offers custom trips to Anegada and throughout the islands, as well as multi-day camping trips.

ISLAND LIVING: Virgin Gorda’s Biras Creek Resort is a luxurious, eco-friendly resort with 33 suites. Last year’s face-lift added two new plunge pools, a brand-new fleet of kayaks, and a bicycle for every guest. Doubles, $615;

St. Bart’s

Lazing & Eating

St. Bart’s

FROM PASTRY TO PARADISE is how your day on St. Bart’s will most likely start. You just need to make a couple of decisions: almond, chocolate, or butter croissant, monsieur? And then: quiet with great sunning or happening with great barefoot dining? Located about 15 miles east of St. Martin, where the Antilles chain bends to the south, tiny St. BarthĂ©lemy (just eight square miles) is the Frenchiest of the French West Indies. The mostly European visitors—some 230,000 a year—come to eat, drink, and lounge. It’s leisure as extreme sport. And it’s easy to spend $150 on lunch—but worth it. For the tuna tartare at La Plage (), on St. Jean Beach. For the tiger prawns at Le BartolomĂ©o, at the Hotel Guanahani (). For anything on the menu at the St. Barth’s Isle de France ().

PLAYTIME: Digest in peace on a secluded beach, like Governeur or Saline. You can also windsurf at St. Jean, surf at Lorient, and scuba-dive in offshore reserves.

ISLAND LIVING: Do like those in the know and rent a private villa from an agency such as St. Barth Properties ().

Islas Los Roques

Snorkeling & Exploring

Islas Los Roques

EACH MORNING, while the sun warms the sea and the pelicans bomb sardines, the small harbor in Los Roques, Venezuela, slowly comes alive. Here, about 100 miles north of Caracas, sits arguably the largest concentration of beautiful beaches in the hemisphere—some 42 islands of white sand, with turquoise lagoons and only one town among all of them. Gran Roque (pop. 1,600) has breezy inns, an espresso bar, and sandy streets plied only by flip-flops. But wander down to the harbor and you’ll find the fishermen. They’re the ones with literally a menu of deserted islands nearby, and for $15 or less they’ll take you and your snorkeling gear there. “Francisqui? Crasqui?” they say. “Which island you like today?” The decision isn’t easy. There’s premium snorkeling among hundreds of thousands of tiny silversides off Crasqui, a 30-minute boat ride away, and great diving in the coral pinnacles of La Guaza, which teems with jacks and grouper. But of all the islands and all the beaches and all the things to do—Francisqui for kiteboarding, Cayo de Agua for lagoons, and so on—Cayo Muerto, just a 20-minute ride away, is particularly special. A sandbar 500 paces long surrounded by a sea so clear you could mistake it for air, “Death Key” is the classic deserted island of castaway fantasies.

PLAYTIME: If riding a fishing boat isn’t for you, Ecobuzos Dive șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍűs runs boats out of Gran Roque to various destinations off Los Roques. $35;

ISLAND LIVING: Gran Roque’s newest inn, Posada Natura Viva, features a quiet courtyard and a predominantly Italian clientele and can help arrange everything from flights to renting snorkeling gear. $247;

St. Lucia

Mountain Biking

St. Lucia

FORGET THE BEACHES. The mountain biking on St. Lucia has visitors looking inland, where riders can rip past waterfalls and saman trees on dozens of singletrack trails and fire roads throughout the 238-square-mile island. The best riding is in the 400-acre Anse Mamin Plantation’s 12-mile network of jungle-lined track, dedicated solely to knobby tires. Suitable for a range of abilities, the trails wind through the old sugarcane fields and offer opportunities for freeriders to drop some of the plantation’s original stone walls and stairways. The biggest challenge? The two-mile Tinker Juarez Trail, designed by the endurance mountain biker and two-time Olympian. This climb to the top of a 900-foot peak has been completed only once sans hiking, by Tinker himself.

PLAYTIME: Bike St. Lucia provides Cannondale F800 mountain bikes for day use. $89 per day;

ISLAND LIVING: The new Jade Mountain Resort, which is connected to the Anse Mamin Plantation, features private “sanctuaries” that have infinity pools with views of the Piton Mountains. Doubles from $1,020;

Turks and Caicos Islands

Kiteboarding

Turks and Caicos Islands

UNTIL RECENTLY, IT WAS SCUBA DIVERS who salivated over the turquoise waters and Technicolor reefs. But recently, kiteboarders have discovered the Turks and Caicos—a 166-square-mile archipelago in the eastern Caribbean—and it’s fast becoming a hallowed destination for world-class riding. During the winter, cold fronts rolling across the lower 48 arm-wrestle with the prevailing trades blowing from the east. A deadlock ensues, and that puts the squeeze on, blasting the Turks and Caicos from January to May with buttery-smooth winds. Bathwater-warm seas let you leave the wetsuit at home, and its proximity to the North Atlantic ensures there’s always a swell if you have an appetite for big surf.

PLAYTIME: The Kitehouse is a full-service international kiteboarding outfitter run by pro Paul Menta. Full-day lessons from $300;

ISLAND LIVING: Menta loves houseguests. An upscale suite at his new villa runs from $150 a day, including gear.

The post Island Action appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Sometimes one culture just isn’t enough. Steeping yourself in the South of France is great, but drop in to an Asian-themed resort on a French island and you’ll leave feeling like a true global denizen. Here are three hotels that import their home country’s ethos.

Banyan Tree
Mahé, Seychelles
The island’s French patois and granite-lined beaches are otherworldly enough. Add the resort’s spicy Asian menu and traditional Thai massage and you’ll feel like one happy Buddha gone to Nirvana.

Wynn Macau
Macau, China
Steve Wynn’s resort brings Vegas-style glitz to Macau. But while most Americans hit Sin City to party, most Chinese go to Macau to cash in. Translation: Never call a Chinese gambler with less than pocket queens.

Amanyara
Turks and Caicos
The teak inlays and clean lines of the Asian Zen pavilions sit near a pristine coral reef in the West Indies.

The post Bold Fusion appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

This April, Borea șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍűs will offer yacht-supported ski trips to the Hornstrandir Nature Reserve, along Iceland’s remote northwest coast. Guests board a 60-foot, 10-bunk sloop in Ísafjördhur and spend six days sailing to the bases of 2,900-foot peaks, hiking up, and skiing down with RĂșnar Óli Karlsson, who’s been climbing in Iceland for 21 years. $2,330;

Big Tent Party

Taking Stock

Montana's Sun Ranch

Cattle Guard

Montana’s Sun Ranch is taking a new, bulletless approach to keeping wolves away from livestock. By placing safari-style guest tents among the herd, the Sleeping with the Cattle program provides both an upscale lodging experience and a strong canine deterrent. The stay includes two nights at the luxe Papoose Creek Lodge. Note: The lodge—though green—offers hunting. Three nights, $1,450 per person;

Capital Improvement

The Lookout

In 2008, Starwood Capital Group will take green lodging to an industrial scale with the high-rise “1” Hotel and Residences. The company has enlisted the NRDC as an adviser and plans to use recycled materials, incorporate water- and energy-saving fixtures, and devote 1 percent of revenue to conservation. The first location is set to open in Seattle.

Closer to nature, and also for 2008, the Ritz-Carlton Molasses Reef comes to West Caicos Island, in the Turks and Caicos, with the maxim: “Develop without overdeveloping.” A stewardship program will preserve archaeological relics and reintroduce the endemic rock iguana.

True Colors

Sound Advice

Lodges everywhere are flying green flags. So how doyou know who’s for real? Boulder, Colorado–based Sustainable Travel International (STI) just launched a first-of-its-kind certification program in February. By year’s end, the group hopes to post more than 100 ratings at sustainabletravelinternational.org. Until then, STI’s Brian Mullis gives us five lodges that do it right.

Hotel Punta Islita, Costa Rica: Set in the forest of Guanacaste province, this base for hiking and kayaking has helped finance a school and a composting station. Doubles, $180;

Yachana Lodge, Ecuador: Learn about the medicinal powers of local plants at this boat-accessed Amazon lodge, which funds environmental programs in the Napo River region. Three days, $405 per person;

Damaraland Camp, Namibia: Desert elephants and oryx roam the Torra Conservancy, which is supported by a cluster of luxury safari tents near the Huab River Valley. $179 per person;

Daintree Eco Lodge & Spa, Australia: Aboriginal-inspired treatments like the Corroboree dance massage dominate the spa menu at this rainforest retreat. Doubles from $550;

El Nido Resorts, Philippines: Jackfish mill about the coves of Bacuit Bay, where resort staff teach guests about conservation and patrol the waters for illegal fishing. From $200 per person;

Rapid Rescue

Activist Travel

Southern Chile’s Class II RĂ­o Baker may appear condemned by a government plan to build four major dams, but there’s hope yet—and you can play a role. Start by joining Patagonia șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Expeditions’ meandering eight-day, 100-mile RĂ­o Baker float through Patagonia’s remote AysĂ©n region ($1,350; ). Then donate to the NRDC (), the American voice in the fight.

Africa Unplugged

Space

Named for big-cat naturalist and Born Free author Joy Adamson, Joy’s Camp, in Kenya’s Shaba National Reserve, blends into a stand of acacia trees on the game-rich savanna where Adamson made her home. Opened last July, the ten sumptuous tent suites overlook a natural spring that’s frequented by lions, zebras, elephants, and a dozen other star quadrupeds. The camp, a member of Ecotourism Kenya, is entirely off the grid. Doubles, $790;

Off the Back

Nice Get

Nau SS1 Riding Jacket

Whether you’re at the prow of the longboat or dining at the captain’s table, Nau’s three-button soft-shell blazer has you covered. The SS1 Riding Jacket is warm, wind-resistant, and constructed entirely from post-consumer recycled soda bottles. Available this spring, $185;

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TURKS AND CAICOS

PEACEFUL AND PRIVATE

Even celebs vie for reservations at Parrot Cay, a 1,000-acre private-island resort in the Turks and Caicos that specializes in weddings for no more than eight guests. Exchange rings at the end of a boardwalk leading to the sea or in a tiki hut overlooking an empty white-sand beach.
POST-VOWS: Start your journey together in one of the resort’s canoes-you’re a team now-or go deep-sea fishing for wahoo, mahi-mahi, and tuna. Then retire to your airy villa, with a four-poster bed, surrounded by gardens of sea hibiscus and frangipani. Later, take a yoga class for two or splurge on a couple’s massage at the Como Shambhala retreat center.
WEDDING PLANNER: To marry in Turks and Caicos, you must submit an application, birth certificates, passports, immigration slips, and affidavits proving that neither groom nor bride has been married (or a copy of the divorce decree).
Doubles from $390; 877-754-0726,

Baja: Romantic Mexican Paradise

BAJA
ROMANTIC MEXICAN PARADISE

Whether you want to seal the deal on the beach, atop a white stallion, or on a yacht as the sun sets over the Pacific, Las Ventanas al ParaĂ­so has you covered. This 61-suite Los Cabos resort specializes in all things love, from the spa’s bride treatment-a bath, honey wrap, massage, facial, and manicure-to candlelit dinners on the beach.
POST-VOWS: Horseback-ride trails with sea views or take a surf lesson. Rejuvenate with a massage in your suite, with its inlaid pebble headboards and paintings by local artists.
WEDDING PLANNER: In addition to passports and birth certificates, you’ll need a blood test to ensure you aren’t related.
Doubles from $450; 011-52-624-144-2800,

Lake Michigan: Great Lakes Grandeur

LAKE MICHIGAN
Great Lakes Grandeur

Say your “I do’s” on Lighthouse Point’s 13 waterfront acres as the setting sun illuminates the St. Helena Lighthouse, on northern Michigan’s Straits of Mackinac. There’s only one wedding each weekend-with room for up to 30 guests to stay at Lighthouse Point-so you’ll have the inn’s pines and cedars, perennial gardens, and expansive lawns all to yourselves.
POST-VOWS: Explore the Sturgeon and Pine rivers by canoe, or bike nearby on car-free Mackinac Island. You and your closest kin will have four cozy cabins, with cedar interiors and rustic wood-and-leather furniture, to return to.
WEDDING PLANNER: A three-day rental of the property costs $6,000. Lighthouse Point can help you arrange catering, flowers, and music.
906-643-8621,

Maine: Down-Home New England

MAINE
DOWN-HOME NEW ENGLAND


Everything about Blair Hill Inn, an eight-room 1891 mansion-turned-country-inn, feels like home, from the innkeepers’ snapdragons to the smoked-shrimp-and-Brie omelette. Get hitched in the gardens in summer, then feast on grilled lobster flown in from the coast in the turn-of-the-century carriage barn.
POST-VOWS: Your married adventure begins in a bountiful region: Kayak Moosehead Lake or Prong Pond, raft the Penobscot or Kennebec rivers, or hike to the summit of 5,268-foot Mount Katahdin, the state’s highest point. At the end of the day, you’ll find respite in the Jacuzzi, a lake-view rocking chair, or your suite, with a mahogany bed and wood-burning fireplace.
WEDDING PLANNER: Blair Hill Inn’s wedding fees vary from $500 to $2,000, for ten to 150 people, and receptions start at $40 per person.
Doubles, $250-$425; 207-695-0224,

Hawaii: Land of Lanai

HAWAII
LAND OF LANAI

Blissfully undeveloped Lanai will sweep you and your betrothed away with its unrefined beauty. In the central highlands of the rugged 141-square-mile island is the Lodge at Koele, a secluded 102-room hotel. Tie the knot on a lava cliff hundreds of feet above the surf or on a golden beach.
POST-VOWS: Rent a mountain bike on-site and ride seven miles to the Garden of the Gods. Or hoof it on horseback along the Paniolo Trail, which runs through old ranchland that is home to deer, quail, and wild turkeys, not to mention panoramic views. When you return, the luxuries of Koele await you: fresh-squeezed pineapple juice, feather pillows on four-poster beds, and an orchid house to explore.
WEDDING PLANNER: The Lodge at Koele has its own planners, who can arrange everything from the service to the cake.
Doubles from $400; 800-450-3704,

Straight from the Spouse’s Mouth

A bride offers five tips to wed by

Destination weddings-nuptials that hit the road instead of being bound to home turf-are an increasingly popular option for travel-hungry brides and grooms. They now account for 10 percent of U.S. weddings, having doubled in the past decade to 230,000 ceremonies annually. Detailed planning is key to pulling off a faraway ceremony, so keep these tips, culled from personal experience, in mind:
FIND YOUR INNER TRAVEL AGENT You have to play the part to ensure that everybody arrives happy. We began by sending a thorough e-mail that included directions, airport recommendations, other travel info, things to do, and a map.
KNOW THE MARRIAGE LAWS Research the details well in advance. Marriage laws vary by state (and country) and are all listed at , with international links. We got our marriage license after answering a few questions at the county clerk's office-including “Are you related?”-and forking over ten bucks. You may need to arrive at your destination early to take care of the paperwork.
MAKE A PRE-WEDDING VISIT Really. A preview is absolutely necessary, even if your best friend raves about the place. Web sites and phone calls tell only part of the story. During our visit to Dunton, we were able to walk through the event to see how everything would go, and then make adjustments.
ASK DETAILED QUESTIONS ABOUT CHARGES Even the best places may have unexpected fees, like wine-corkage charges. Request an estimate and even a sample bill from a recent wedding. You might ask, “Are there going to be any surprises on my bill when this is through?”
ONCE IT STARTS, JUST HAVE FUN When you arrive, nothing else should matter-you are officially done working. Whatever happens, happens; just roll along and have a blast!

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All-Inclusive Resorts

Margaritas for nothing and the chips for free
By Matthew Joyce

In the notoriously high-priced Caribbean, it doesn’t take long to max out a credit card or burn through a wad of traveler’s checks–those $50-per-day equipment rentals and $30-an-hour lessons add up even when you manage to score a reasonably priced hotel room. The solution? An all-inclusive resort. Yes, some of these are too organized, too corny, or too isolated from real
island life. But when you consider that the price includes room, meals, drinks, sports, entertainment, and taxes, the trade-off starts to make sense.

Club Med, the pioneer of the all-inclusive concept, still rules. If you can stand such patented silliness as African Fun Dances and group sing-alongs, Club Med Turkoise (doubles, $125-$190 per person; weekly, $875-$1,135; dive packages, $100 extra; 800-258-2633) on the island of Providenciales is a good deal for divers. The resort comprises 70
acres, three restaurants, a nightclub, and 298 pastel-colored rooms and offers boardsailing, waterskiing, bonefishing, volleyball, and two daily scuba dives. There’s also an incongruous but entertaining circus workshop to teach guests such skills as trapeze, high-wire, and juggling.

LeSPORT (doubles, $210- $345 per person per night; $2,631-$3,500 per couple weekly; 800-544-2883), on the northwestern tip of St. Lucia, attracts stressed-out yuppies and health-conscious hedonists to its Moorish-style “relaxation center” and ocean-view rooms. The price includes instruction in sailing, diving, tennis, and boardsailing, as well as
massage treatments and yoga.

Families should head for Runaway Bay, midway along Jamaica’s north coast, where the Mediterranean-style Franklin D. Resort ($3,205- $7,205 per couple per week; kids under 16 free; 800-654-1337) caters exclusively to parents and their offspring with one- to three-bedroom suites. Each family gets a “Girl Friday” to cook, clean, and babysit the kids,
who join supervised games and sports lessons while Mom and Dad sail, dive, and bike.

Outdoor types sans kids opt for Jamaica Jamaica ($1,120- $1,505 weekly per person; 800-859-7873). Sure, there are goofy costume nights, but if you like parties and sports, this one’s for you. Set on a two-mile north-shore beach, the 22-acre, 238-room resort keeps you busy with horseback rides, bike trips, and a Mistral boardsailing school.

Long before ecotourism came into vogue, scuba divers and nature freaks were coming to Anthony’s Key Resort ($910-$990 per person per week; 800-227-3483) on RoatĂĄn in the Bay Islands of Honduras. The attraction is three boat dives per day and unlimited shore diving among pristine coral- and sponge-encrusted walls and reefs. Guests stay in
rustic seaside bungalows, eat family-style meals in an open-air dining area, kayak, ride horses on the beach, or hike on jungle trails.

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Best Surfing Waves

BATHSHEBA, BARBADOS: Soupbowl, a reef break with a powerful right on the island’s undeveloped east coast, has been hosting wintertime surfing competitions for 20 years, but thanks to an Atlantic exposure, good waves can be found year-round. The Soupbowl scene heats up in November, when the Independence Pro (celebrating Barbados’s 1966 break from Britain) draws surfers hoping for southwest winds and deep barrels. Kelly Slater won last year. For details, contact the Barbados Surfing Association (246-228-5117, ).

HALEIWA, OAHU, HAWAII: Its exposure to huge swells makes Oahu’s North Shore (a.k.a. the Seven Mile Miracle) the most epic surf magnet in the universe. Winter storms generate rolling monsters made famous at spots like Pipeline and Sunset Beach, but beginners can enjoy Chuns Reef and Puaena Point, where weaker currents and a softer bottom make for a gentler entrĂ©e to the sport. For lessons ($65 for a three-hour group lesson) and rentals ($24-$30 per day) contact the Surf-N-Sea shop (808-637-7873, ).
PUERTO ESCONDIDO, MEXICO: The “Mexican Pipeline” is a legendary beach break with left- and right-hand tubes at Zicatela Beach. In March, the Central Surf Longboard Invitational is held here, kicking off the summer season of big southern swells. If the Pipeline’s too gnarly for you, walk a bit farther south to La Punta, where you’ll often find an easier point breaking left—a slower, rounder learner’s wave. For classes, check in with the Central Surf Shop ($50 per two-hour lesson and $10-$12 for all-day board rentals; 011-52-954-582-2285, ).

Best Hipster Hangouts

JAKE’S JAMAICA: Eclectic Jake’s, part of the super-chic Island Outpost group (owned by Island Records’ Chris Blackwell), is an intimate jumble of adobe buildings—accented by a thumping reggae soundtrack—atop a south-coast cliff near Treasure Beach’s dark sands. Denizens of cool are many here—you could bump into Bono in the mosaic-tiled saltwater pool if you’re not lazing about in Seapuss, Sweetlip, or one of the 11 other brightly painted gingerbread cottages done up with island paintings. Be sure to try Jake’s pumpkin soup at the restaurant (doubles from $95; 800-688-7678.

HOTEL DESEO, MEXICO: Pack the Gucci shades—this “hotel and lounge” on Playa del Carmen’s Fifth Avenue places a heavy emphasis on the lounge part of the equation. Note the Euro-tinged accents wafting through the air as bronzed gods and goddesses sun away last night’s party on daybeds lining the upstairs deck. Grab a cerveza at the bar, then hop in the outdoor Jacuzzi. The 15 elegantly sparse guest rooms—grooviest on the Mayan Riviera—feature marble toilets and clawfoot tubs (doubles from $118; 011-52-984-879-3620, ).

LALUNA, GRENADA: Sixteen airy villas—each with a Balinese four-poster bed and an expansive private deck that includes a plunge pool—cover a hillside above Laluna’s secluded beach. Welcome to an Italian-owned and -designed enclave of fabulousness near Morne Rouge. When you’re not diving or kayaking, sample the fresh Mediterranean pasta in the beachside restaurant and keep an eye peeled for former megamodel Jerry Hall (doubles from $270; 473-439-0001, ).

Best Beaches

SECRET BEACH, KAUAI, HAWAII: At the base of 150-foot cliffs west of Kilauea, this two-mile stretch of gold-glowing sand draws its name from its remote location (and the presence of nude sunbathers). To get in on the Secret, you have to drive two miles west from Kilauea to Kalihiwai, go a half-mile down a muddy road to the trailhead, then walk five minutes on a rocky path. Once you’re there, you’ll want to comb the beach and lounge around, but it’s best not to swim: From October to May, swells can be quite large, and currents are always strong. The folks at Kayak Kauai are knowledgeable and can help with directions (800-437-3507, ).

SANDY CAY, BRITISH VIRGIN ISLANDS: This uninhabited 14-acre nirvana southeast of Jost Van Dyke can be reached only by boaters, namely yachties, but its crystalline waters and gleaming white sand make it well worth chartering a ride yourself. Daytrippers are welcome to anchor on the island, owned by Laurance Rockefeller, and bask on his beach or hike the 20 minutes it takes to circle Sandy Cay or venture up the trail through its interior. Call Caribbean Connection for charters (284-494-3623).
ST. JOSEPH PENINSULA STATE PARK, PORT ST. JOE, FLORIDA: Rated America’s best beach by Dr. Beach himself (Stephen Leatherman, a coastal geologist who assesses the health of the nation’s sandy stretches), the 2,516-acre park is bounded by St. Joe Bay and the Gulf of Mexico, with 14 miles of coastline. Highlights include snowy sand dunes, wildlife (this is a primo spot for spotting hawks and monarch butterflies), and the bliss of seeing nary another soul (campsites, $15 per night; 800-326-3521 for reservations, 850-227-1327 for information).

Best Eco-Lodges

LODGE AT PICO BONITO, HONDURAS: The 8,000-foot peak of Pico Bonito sets the backdrop for this 200-acre nature resort close to the Caribbean coast, where 21 cabins (constructed from hurricane-felled timber) are tucked among a grove of cacao and coffee trees. A poolside bar serves fresh grapefruit juice straight from the orchards on the property, while a restaurant with an outdoor patio offers Meso-American cuisine. Pico Bonito National Park is next door, and the Class II-IV Cangrejal River flows nearby. For a less frothy adventure, paddle a canoe through the mangroves of Cuero y Salado Park, near La Ceiba. Watch for 275 species of birds, including the long-tailed manakin, as well as jaguars, kinkajous, and monkeys (doubles from $155; 888-428-0221, ).

EXOTICA, DOMINICA: The lodge’s eight wooden cottages overlooking the sea on the slopes of 3,683-foot Morne Anglais have a genuine eco-pedigree—they’re run by the president of the Caribbean Conservation Society, Athie Martin. The units have tropical-hardwood verandas, pine-paneled living rooms, and fully equipped kitchens with gas stoves and solar-heated water. Guests can prepare their own meals with fresh-picked produce from an adjoining organic farm or dine at the lodge’s cafĂ©. Aside from soaking in the get-back-to-the-land vibe, there are diversions: Wander old hunting trails through forests looking for bananaquit birds, hike an hour up to Middleham Falls near Cochrane, or go play in the sea (doubles from $140; 767-448-8839, ).

HOTELITO DESCONOCIDO, MEXICO: Here’s proof that a stay at an eco-resort doesn’t have to be an exercise in austerity. Sixty miles south of Puerto Vallarta on the Pacific coast, Desconocido is as plush as environmentally oriented accommodations come: Think Mexican fishing village meets luxury safari camp. Palafitos (wood-floored bungalows with palapa roofs) are set up on stilts around a stunning lagoon and a 100-acre beach reserve where sea turtles nest from June to January. Use the lodge’s equipment to windsurf, or take a horseback ride along the beach, then head back to one of the 30 rustic-chic guest rooms, which feature canopied beds, open-air showers, and embroidered linens—but no electricity. Solar energy powers the resort, and countless candles provide soft lighting (doubles from $215; 800-851-1143, ).

TIAMO RESORTS, SOUTH ANDROS, BAHAMAS: Sea kayaking, sailing, diving, snorkeling, and a quiet beach are all a coconut’s throw away from Tiamo’s lodge and eight bungalows on stilts with views over South Bight’s teal waters. The resort is supremely eco-friendly—it’s solar-powered and uses composting toilets; guests are asked to pack out their plastic goods for recycling. Bring your fly rods—bonefish are abundant in the flats right out the front door. Afterward, head to the main lodge for Chef Jared’s seared tuna with red-pepper-and-mango sauce (doubles from $205; 800-201-4356, ).

KANANTIK, BELIZE: Situated on 300 private acres (with an airstrip) in southern Belize, Kanantik Reef and Jungle Resort redefines “isolated”: The only neighbors are the jaguars and toucans that haunt the Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary, four miles south, and the whale sharks that migrate offshore. Ancient Mayan building traditions have been updated to 21st-century cush in the 25 spacious cabañas that line the palm-fringed beach, where you can launch a sea kayak. You can also dive, fish for bill- and bonefish, sail one of the resort’s Hobie Cats, or tour the temples at Xunantunich ruins, near the Guatemalan border. Refuel with the restaurant’s Creole-Mediterranean fare (doubles from $265; 800-965-9689, ).

Best Dive Destinations

Into the Caribbean’s clear blue wonders

DRIFT DIVING LITTLE CAYMAN’S BLOODY BAY WALL MARINE PARK: Bloody Bay is a notch every diver wants to carve into his or her weight belt, with good reason—gliding over the edge of a mile-deep vertical drop as the wall disappears into the depths of the Caribbean Sea is an unbeatable thrill. Orange and brown sponges jut from all directions, and sea turtles, spotted eagle rays, and groupers swim about. Three-night packages, including lodging, meals, and diving, start at $645 at the clubby Little Cayman Beach Resort (800-327-3835, ).

VIEWING WHALE SHARKS OFF UTILA, HONDURAS: Your best bet for encountering 25- to 40-foot whale sharks, the largest fish in the sea (don’t worry, they eat plankton, not humans), is to sign up with Princeton, N.J.-based Shark Research Institute. During a weeklong visit at their field station at Utila Lodge, on one of the Bay Islands off Honduras in the Caribbean Sea, you’ll learn how to find the mammoth spotted creatures, dive with them, and help researchers with population studies. Seven-night packages, including lodging, meals, and diving, cost $1,150 per person (609-921-3522, ).

DIVING THE SHORES OF BONAIRE: The shore-diving capital of the world has outstanding dive sites just duck walks from the beach. (Salt and Old Town piers are favorite spots.) The strictly regulated Bonaire Marine Park surrounds the island—a 111-square-mile Dutch outpost off the Venezuelan coast—and protects its coral, sea turtles, and fish. Buddy Dive Resort (866-462-8339, ) offers eight-day, seven-night packages, including rental car and six days of unlimited air fills, starting at $965 per person.

DIVING PINNACLES IN SABA MARINE PARK: Saba—a five-square-mile mountainous outcrop in the Netherlands Antilles—is legendary for its underwater pinnacles and seamounts, including Third Encounter and Twilight Zone. Covered in red and orange fans and sponges, they rise from the floor of the Caribbean Sea to within 85 feet of the surface, and are frequented by six varieties of shark. Sea Saba Advanced Dive Center (800-883-7222, ) offers three-day, six-dive packages starting at $399 per person at the eco-funky El Momo Cottages.

Best Archaeological Sites

TIKAL NATIONAL PARK, GUATEMALA: The overused term “lost world” finally feels appropriate when you first glimpse the Mayan ruins of Tikal, once a thriving metropolis of 100,000 people that peaked around a.d. 700. Temple IV, Great Plaza, and South Acropolis, the major ruins in this 143-square-mile park in northern Guatemala, poke out of a mist-shrouded canopy, while toucans flutter, monkeys chatter, and coatimundis cross your path. Visit when the park opens at dawn—trails of vapor rise from the ruins like departing spirits. You’ll find the rustic, backpacker-friendly Jaguar Inn (doubles, $48; 011-502-926-0002, ) near the entrance to the park.

FORT JEFFERSON, DRY TORTUGAS NATIONAL PARK, FLORIDA: The seven islands that make up the Dry Tortugas National Park—70 miles west of Key West—were discovered by Europeans in 1513, when Ponce de LĂ©on arrived and named them after the sea turtles that fed his sailors. The islands are still known for their marine life, but the ruins of Fort Jefferson, on 16-acre Garden Cay, are the main attraction. Construction on the red-brick fort began in 1846 but was never completed. Reach Garden Cay by seaplane ($179 per person round-trip; Sea Planes of Key West, 800-950-2359, ) or boat ($109 per person; Yankee Fleet, 800-634-0939, ). As you approach it, the six-sided, three-story fort hovers over the Atlantic like a mirage. In 2003, camping will be available on the beach ($3 per person; 305-242-7700, ).
RIVER OF RUINS TRIP THROUGH MEXICO AND GUATEMALA: This Indiana Jones-style river tour of Mayan ruins begins in Palenque, Mexico. You’ll fly to Tikal National Park in Guatemala, and then ride back to Mexico by river on 20- to 80-foot plank boats called lanchas. During your cruise along the Pasion, Petexbatun, and Usumacinta rivers, you’ll frequent 1,500-year-old sites like Aguateca and Yaxchilan, accessible only by hiking. A ten-day trip with Ceiba șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍűs (800-217-1060, ) costs $2,550 per person.

Best Fishing

Walk this way: stepping into Cuba’s Cayo Largo

BONEFISH—LA TORTUGA IN JARDINES DE LA REINA, CUBA: Combine live-aboard and lodge fishing in these pristine flats 40 miles off the island’s southwest coast. A lack of commercial fishing and a dearth of people mean you can cast a fly into waters few others have ever fished. Avalon Fishing and Diving Center is based at a floating lodge—three large boats with 17 cabins—and uses a fleet of skiffs for fishing. Expert Cuban guides pole you through shallow water around cays as you cast for the elusive fork-tailed torpedoes. Eight-day trips cost $2,400 (011-39-335-814-9111, ).

TARPON—RÃO COLORADO, COSTA RICA: With howler monkeys screeching at you from the trees onshore while a 100-pound tarpon hurls itself out of the Río Colorado at the end of your line, it’s hard to imagine a more intense fishing spot than here in northeastern Costa Rica. But just keep concentrating and you’ll be reeling in tarpon aplenty at this spawning ground where the river meets the Caribbean Sea. Base yourself at Archie Field’s Río Colorado Lodge, which offers 18 plain but comfortable rooms on stilts, right on the riverbanks ($380 per person per day, including guides, meals, and boat; 800-243-9777, ).

PERMIT—ASCENSIÓN BAY, MEXICO: In the heart of the YucatÃ¥n’s Sian Ka’an Biosphere Reserve, a 1,304,688-acre UNESCO World Heritage site, this massive expanse of saltwater flats is one of the world’s best places to catch a permit on a fly. Your odds of hooking a bonefish or a tarpon are pretty good, too—Ascensión Bay is often called the Grand Slam Capital of the fishing world. Most anglers situate themselves in or near the tiny fishing village of Punta Allen; the best place to stay is a four-bedroom guest house, SeaClusion Villa, five miles from town ($2,500 a week, per person, including transport from CancÃÂșn; 888-829-9420, ).

Best (Affordable) Beachfront Resorts

HOTEL HANA-MAUI, MAUI, HAWAII: When you get a load of the sea crashing practically right into this place, you won’t be surprised that scenes from Fantasy Island were shot on the 66-acre grounds. Sure, there’s tennis on site, hiking in Haleakala National Park, cycling along the winding coastal roads, and snorkeling nearby at Hamoa Beach, but after soaking in the stars and the ocean views from the hot tub on your room’s huge deck, you won’t feel like doing much else. The resort’s 47 plantation-style cottages, all with ocean views (and surrounded by a 4,500-acre ranch), are situated near the little town of Hana on Maui’s east coast. A main dining room, with streamers dangling from the ceiling to diffuse light, serves scrumptious meals with local produce (doubles from $275; 800-321-4262, ).

NUEVA VIDA, MEXICO: This tiny resort’s Swiss Family Robinson-style rooms, with mucho wood and palm thatch, are housed in bungalows built ten feet off the ground to maximize the sultry ocean breezes and gorgeous ocean views. What to do? Tulum’s sweep of white-sand beach and one of the YucatÃ¥n’s most dramatic clusters of Mayan ruins are right outside your door (you can also explore the nearby ruins of CobÃ¥ and Chichén ItzÃ¥)—or let the hotel’s massage therapist noodle you silly. Leave the blow-dryer at home: The sun and wind power the lights and aren’t up to the task of drying your hair (doubles from $65; 011-52-984-877-8512, ).

EDEN ROCK, ST. BART’S: If you want a whiff of Saint-Tropez in the Caribbean, try this red-roofed resort, which crowns a rocky promontory jutting into Baie de St. Jean. You’re more likely to see guests wearing Prada than Patagonia—most of the 16 rooms cost at least $600 per night—but the common denominator is a love for the luxe beaches that stretch out below the hotel. The trick: Reserve the Captain’s Cabin at about half the cost of a room. When you tire of snorkeling around the reef surrounding Eden Rock, you can gorge on French cuisine, pamper yourself in the spa, sip fruity cocktails in the beach bar, or laze on the topless beach (cabin rental is $375 per night from January to April and less during the summer and fall; 877-563-7105, ).

WINDMILLS PLANTATION, SALT CAY, TURKS AND CAICOS: On laid-back Salt Cay, you’re in the company of wild donkeys, windmills, and migrating humpback whales; the perfect place to slow yourself down is this eight-room, plantation-style hotel overlooking a 2.5-mile stretch of beach. The hotel has a saltwater pool and snorkeling off the beach; divers can explore the coral walls and the Endymion, an 18th-century wreck, with Salt Cay Divers. At day’s end, repair to rooms whose colorful walls and dark wooden antiques from colonial-era plantations take you back to the days when those donkeys hauled salt from mines to ships bound for distant ports (doubles from $325; 800-822-7715, ).

Best Hikes

PICO DUARTE, DOMINICAN REPUBLIC: Hike from steamy jungle to cool forest on this strenuous 29-mile trek to the top of the Caribbean’s highest peak, Pico Duarte (10,128 feet). Traverse Parque Nacional Armando BermĂșdez, which typically sees fewer than 200 tourists a year, and listen to your guide spin stories around the campfire. On the trail, look out for wild boar and the rare Hispaniola parrot. Iguana Mama’s three-day trip costs $450 (809-571-0908, ).

PARQUE NACIONAL DARIÉN, PANAMA: This 1.2-million-acre UNESCO World Heritage site, stretching almost the entire length of the Colombian border, is home to 6,000-foot mountains, EmberĂĄ Indians, and 450 species of birds, like macaws and the green-naped tanager. Fly into a renovated gold mining camp (sleeps eight) at Cana, a valley in the Pirre Mountains, for day hikes. The five-mile Pirre Mountain Trail climbs 1,000 feet to a cloudforest camp; the two-day Boca de Cupe Trail is the only way out of the park by land. Ancon Expeditions offers a 14-day DariĂ©n Explorer Trek ($2,495; 011-507-269-9415, ).
PU’U KUKUI, MAUI, HAWAII: Each year, 5,788-foot Pu’u Kukui Mountain receives buckets of rain (about 30 feet), but few visitors (about 12). The 8,661-acre nature preserve is owned by the Maui Land and Pineapple Company, which one day a year, in August, helicopters up a dozen hikers (at $1,000 bucks a pop!) for a three-mile tour and lunch, led by the Kapalua Nature Society. The cloudforest hides 12 of Hawaii’s 150 indigenous plant communities and the nearly extinct i’iwi bird. Contact Kapalua Nature Society (800-527-2582, ).

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