This December, my wife and I headed back to Puerto Rico—our second trip this year! It’s hard to beat a tropical retreat as winter sets in. We left right as temps in North Carolina were plummeting into the ‘20s. Puerto Rican temps ranged from upper 70s to mid-80s every day, with mostly sunny skies each day and a handful of small showers.
We went places and did things we hadn’t done during our February trip. We spent most of the trip on the island of Vieques, a 20-mile-long island off Puerto Rico’s east coast. The island is a must-return destination. There are two small towns and a network of rural areas (population: 8,000), but most of the island is National Wildlife Refuge, with forests, sandy beaches, rocky cliffs, lagoons, and coral reefs. Vieques has a rough past; the refuge was a Navy bombing range until 2003, and many areas remain off-limits due to unexploded ordinance. The vegetation, while lush, is also largely non-native, dominated by mesquite that took over the island after the sugarcane and cattle days of the past. Nonetheless, it’s a beautiful place, and we were able to explore a substantial amount of the island over the course of a week.
As usual, my wife enjoyed a more relaxed pace, while I spent most of my time exploring. This involved less birding than you might expect. Since I’d seen most of the interesting Puerto Rican bird species back in Febuary (including all the endemics), birding wasn’t as much of a priority for me while in Vieques. Also, smaller islands tend to have fewer bird species than larger islands (or the mainland), so there weren’t that many different birds to see. (I saw 64 species on Vieques, compared to 103 on the main island, compared to, e.g., 177 during a week in Arizona.)
Tropical islands may have relatively few birds, but they have way more fish than North Carolina! Fish were my main squeeze this trip. I reeled in a few with my travel rod, but the real way to see fish was to join them. I spent many hours snorkeling (for the first time since I was 18), and I was blown away by the biodiversity lurking just under the surface. This a new hobby I’m excited to pursue. I also tested the limits of underwater iPhone photography, which I’ve yet to master.
Ok, that’s the overview. Before the long play-by-play, here’s the TLDR version:
Day 1: Flight into San Juan, then hanging out around town;
Day 2: Old San Juan, then a ferry to Vieques, then getting settled at la Finca Victoria;
Day 3: Solo birding (freshwater pond, Puerto Ferro lighthouse, Laguna Sombe), then beach day at Sun Bay/ Cayo de Tierra, then nighttime bioluminescent bay kayak tour;
Day 4: Relaxing morning, then errands, then sightseeing at the pier and Ceiba tree, then solo snorkeling at the pier;
Day 5: Solo birding and snorkeling at Punta Arenas, then exploring Playa Negra (Black Sand Beach), then some low-key birding and swimming;
Day 6: Hiking Monte Pirata, solo snorkeling the pier, fishing El Pobre, and fishing the pier;
Day 7: Solo pier fishing, then Playa la Chiva snorkeling and relaxing, then sunset back at the pier;
Day 8: Walking the roads near La Finca, then puddlejumper to San Juan, then a bigger plane back home.
Day 1: Sat 11/30
We flew in mid-afternoon on Saturday, direct from RDU to San Juan. As usual, I took advantage of my window seat to snap some photos—this time of the North Carolina coastline. It was interesting to see the curved shape of our southern beaches.
After arriving, we checked in, unpacked, walked around town, grabbed dinner at a taqueria, grabbed a beer at a local dive, and then settled back in at our hotel. La Botanica Hotel was a lush oasis in the middle of urbanity. A chorus of frogs drowned out the road noise, and I spent a fair amount of time—mostly unsuccessful—trying to see them. The chorus was dominated by Common Coquis (Puerto Rico’s unofficial mascot), which I did manage to see. I also heard two new ones: a couple Antillean Coquis (aka Red-eyed Coquis) and a Cuban Treefrog (nonnative to the island). Nighttime frog noise is a hallmark of Puerto Rico. It can be overwhelming if you aren’t used to it; it apparently kept our hotel neighbors up all night!
Eventually, I heard music creeping over the frog sounds. After a few minutes, I located the source: a floating bar, hoisted into the air by a crane in the lot behind the hotel. This was an amusing juxtaposition to the lush surroundings of La Botanica. Puerto Rico has something for everyone, I suppose.
Day 2: Sun 12/1
Our first full day began with a short Uber ride to Viejo San Juan (Old San Juan), which we’d missed on the last trip. It’s a pretty city, with old buildings and cobbled streets reminiscent of European cities. There was a relatively high vacancy rate, including some buildings that were battling the tropical vegetation.
After a quick breakfast, we spent most of our time walking around Castillo San Felipe del Morro (or just “El Morro”), the massive fort guarding San Juan Bay. We couldn’t go inside, but the walk around the walls (which extend to encircle most of the old city) was fascinating. This might be the coolest fort or castle I’ve been to.
We saw a nice assortment of wildlife around the fort. I’m not sure if the 20 feral cats count as “wildlife,” but my wife sure liked them. Other nonnative species included Rock Pigeons, House Sparrows, Monk Parakeets, and Red Junglefowls (chickens). But of course, I found the animals that were supposed to be there most interesting. Cool birds included Brown Boobies, Magnificent Frigatebirds, and Cave Swallows, plus other more common species. Crested Anoles were abundant, including a couple displaying their large tail crests (something I don’t remember seeing back in February). I also saw a new spider: Silver Garden Orbweaver.
After a fulsome second breakfast back at the hotel, we packed up and hopped in an hourlong Uber ride to Ceiba, a ferry port on the east coast. En route, we fretted over the availability of the ferry tickets Vieques, due to misleading information on the ferry website. The logistical headache ultimately resolved itself, as there was room for us on the 1:30 ferry. Nonetheless, note to future self (and anyone else interested): getting to Vieques is tricky, so book ferry tickets or a flight in advance!
The ferry ride took about 45 minutes and offered great views of both Puerto Rico and Vieques (plus the smaller island of Culebra). Wildlife was sparse, but I saw more Brown Boobies and another Magnificent Frigatebird.
Once on Vieques, we picked up our Jeep (a little beat up, but drivable), got groceries, and were immediately introduced to the island’s most famous inhabitants: horses. Horses roamed everywhere, including in the road. They aren’t technically wild or feral, but are instead pets that are given free roam of the entire island. Same for the island’s large population of Red Junglefowl (chickens)—not actually wild, just free-range pets.
We checked in at la Finca Victoria (or, just “La Finca,” The Estate), nestled in a rural part of the island. This place is the best! It’s an “Ayurvedic boutique hotel”—really, more compound than hotel—with private accommodations, daily yoga, gourmet vegan breakfasts, and lush tropical landscaping. We spent the afternoon and evening relaxing at our new home base.
Wildlife highlights around La Finca included my first lifer bird of the trip: a Green-throated Carib (hummingbird), plus interesting views of a Pearly-eyed Thrasher taking a bath directly overhead, on a piece of transparent roofing. I saw two new dragonflies: a Sough Amberwing and a Vermilion Saddlebags. Lizards were abundant, including not only Crested Anoles, but also a couple less-common Banded Anoles. After the sun set, I also saw a Tropical House Gecko (nonnative). But the stars of the evening were—unsurprisingly—the frogs. Here, Antillean Coquis were the dominant species, and I was even able to see one. These were joined by a new frog species: Whistling Coquis, whose deafening calls were a bit less pleasant to the ear, but still interesting. A couple Common Coquis joined the chorus, too. This same mix of frogs serenaded us each night.
Day 3: Mon 12/2
Day 3 was our first of five full days on Vieques. So, how to spend that time? For my wife, this was easy to answer: sleep in, yoga, breakfast, and relax. I enjoy relaxing, too, but I had a laundry list of different adventures and destinations I wanted to check out while on the island.
The adventures began with birding—looking for a handful of species I hadn’t managed to find back in February. Around dawn, I headed out to one of the island’s few freshwater ponds. I quickly located my target: a trio of Least Grebes, including two adults and a juvenile. While there, I also stumbled across another lifer: a Scaly-breasted Munia (an African species that’s now naturalized in the Caribbean). The pond attracted many other interesting species (most of which turned out to be quite common on the island, so I won’t mention them again), including: Smooth-billed Ani, Green-throated Carib, Western Cattle-Egret, Gray and Loggerhead Kingbirds, Adelaide’s Warbler (one of the only Puerto Rican endemics that reside on Vieques), and Bananaquit. Non-birds of note included a bunch of Green Iguanas (nonnative) and a handful of mosquitoes.
After the pond, I headed to the old lighthouse at Puerto Ferro. The structure was built by the Spanish in the late 1800s and is now in a state of disrepair. It offered an interesting complement to the rugged 30-foot cliffs. The vegetation here was short, scrubby, and dense. This was apparently perfect for Caribbean Elaenia, my third lifer of the day. These little flycatchers were easy to hear, but hard to see; I heard a half dozen, but only managed brief glimpses of one.
My final birding stop was Laguna Sombe, a large wetland behind the popular Sun Bay beach. There aren’t any official trails to the lagoon, but satellite imagery showed a clear path from the northeast. I later learned this road was cleared to rescue a boat that washed into the lagoon during Hurricane Maria. But vegetation grows quickly in the tropics! Upon arrival, I found only hints of the trail. I stubbornly soldiered on, bushwhacking about 1/4 mile through a painful mess of thorn-covered mesquite saplings. I bushwhack regularly, but this was the most difficult and painful bushwhack I’ve ever done. Was it worth it? Not really. The lagoon itself didn’t feature many birds; there was a collection of standard shorebirds, a few waders, a few Clapper Rails, and a Magnificent Frigatebird overhead. The nature highlights included a Puerto Rican Bush Anole, dozens of West Indian Mangrove Buckeyes and Great Southern Whites (butterflies, not people!), perhaps 100 Mudflat Fiddler Crabs, and an enormous tarantula hawk-wasp with orange wings called Pepsis marginata. All of those except the Great Southern Whites were lifers for me.
On my drive back home, I picked up one more lifer: a Small Indian Mongoose crossing the road. These fox squirrel-sized predators were introduced to the island long ago, and they’re the only mammal predator here other than feral cats.
After rejoining my wife for breakfast, we headed to Sun Bay beach. While my wife walked the beach, I hiked out to Cayo de Tierra, a small island connected to the mainland by a narrow spit. Right after a few feral dogs departed the island, I saw a small sea turtle surface over the shallow grass beds in the adjacent bay. A lagoon at the base of the island held a big collection of 68 White-cheeked Pintails and a handful of Black-necked Stilts. Other interesting critters included Beaded Periwinkles, some type of Cerith snail, and a bunch of Caribbean Land Hermit Crabs. After a short climb, the island terminated in 60-foot cliffs, offering an excellent view of the Caribbean.
Back on the beach, I tried out my new snorkeling gear (nothing to see in the murky waters) and enjoyed the picturesque scenery with my wife. Then we went to lunch in Esperanza, where we saw one of the free-ranging horses eating out of a trash can. I guess something needs to fulfill this important ecological niche, usually left to Raccoons…. We spent the late afternoon at La Finca, hanging out on the porch of our Airstream and saving our energy.
Nightfall brought a big adventure: a guided tour of Mosquito Bay. The bay is famous for its bioluminescence—a blue glow produced when single-celled dinoflagellates (specifically, Pyrodinium bahamense) are disturbed. It’s the brightest of the three bio bays in Puerto Rico, and as of 2006 was the brightest on Earth (I’m not sure whether it still holds this title). This is the reason most tourists come to Vieques. It wasn’t our only reason for visiting the island, but it did motivate our timing: We made sure to visit around the new moon, optimizing dark skies so we could fully experience the glowing blue waters.
We booked a tour with Jak Water Sports, which we’d highly recommend. After a bumpy bus ride from Esperanza, we boarded tandem clear-bottomed kayaks. Shepherded by an expert guide, we spent an hour paddling around the bay, releveling in the otherworldly experience. Every paddle stroke prompted a glowing blue cloud to coalesce for a few seconds. The clear-bottom boats were alive with streaks of blue, reminiscent of stars streaking across the windshield of the Millenium Falcon jumping to hyperspace. We scooped up handfuls of glowing water. Fish became flashes of light moving beneath the surface. Neither words nor pictures come close to doing it justice; this was truly one of the most incredible experiences of the natural world.
Day 4: Tues 12/3
After the relatively late night, we slept in on Day 4. I joined my wife for morning yoga and breakfast, followed by some rainy errands. The rain let up just in time for some mid-morning sightseeing.
First up was Mosquito Pier, a mile-long causeway jutting from the north end of the island. It’s a scenic place, offering great views of the Puerto Rican “mainland,” and distant views of Culebra. Notable wildlife included an unidentified sea turtle and a few comically large frigatebirds balancing on a power line (something I’ve never seen before).
Next up was the island’s locally famous Ceiba tree park, which hosts—you guessed it—an enormous Ceiba tree. The 300-year-old tree’s buttressed roots easily swallowed my wife. Big, old trees offer a poignant reminder of human impermanence.
After dropping off my wife at La Finca for some R&R, I returned to the Ceiba tree and the pier for some more in-depth nature exploration. In some shallow wetlands near the tree, I found a couple Solitary Sandpipers (apparently rare on the island), a Wilson’s Snipe, and other birds. I spent a fair amount of time following butterflies and dragonflies; this yielded one lifer: Banded Yellow. I also got my first look at a Crested Anole displaying its multicolored dewlap on the big tree itself.
Tropical life is abundant enough on land, but below the surface, it’s a whole ‘nother world. I spent the bulk of the afternoon snorkeling around the causeway near the pier. I hadn’t donned a snorkel since I was 18 years old, but this location offered a safe and easy reintroduction to the sport. The west side of the causeway is sheltered from the wind (and thus, waves). It features a nice mix of hard structure (boulders, partially colonized by coral), sandy bottom, and a predictable gradient from shallow to deep water. Although it wasn’t the most natural reef setting, the snorkeling was amazing, and I’m now hooked on this new hobby.
Fish were everywhere, in all shapes, sizes, and colors. I tried to identify as many as I could, which generally involved struggling to photograph them through a clunky underwater phone case. Notwithstanding my lack of experience and equipment, I was able to identify 26 different species of fish, nearly all of which were new to me. From a biodiversity standpoint, snorkeling was far more productive than birding on the island (for comparison, the highest number of bird species I saw on a single outing was 19). I’m not going to list (or include blurry photos) of all the fish I saw, and it’s hard to pick highlights; every species was interesting in some way. The most abundant species were Atlantic Sergeant Major, Caribbean Bluehead Wrasse, Atlantic Blue Tang, Caribbean Ocean Surgeonfish, French Grunt, Yellowtail Snapper, Bar Jack, and various damselfish (mostly Dusky Damselfish and Beaugregory, I think). Species I didn’t see anywhere else on the trip included an invasive Common Lionfish, a few Yellow Goatfish, an Orangespotted Filefish, and a few Yellowtail Damselfish. My favorite group of fish were the parrotfish.
The fish were complemented by a variety of other animals. This was a hotspot for Red Cushion Sea Stars and Southern Moon Jellyfish. I saw a few Atlantic Long-spined Sea Urchins and Atlantic Rock-boring Sea Urchins. The most bizarre animal was a Bearded Fireworm; underwater annelids are more interesting than their terrestrial cousins. I didn’t spend much time trying to identify the corals (which are also animals), but they came in some interesting shapes and sizes, too. Above water, I had brief glimpses of a mongoose, as well as a Humic Marsh Crab (lifer).
After chatting with other snorkelers (including an older couple from New England and a younger couple from Ukraine) and then a local fisherman, I headed back home. My wife and I enjoyed a low-key evening at La Finca, where I spent hours identifying and logging all the fish I’d seen. We were joined by a massive Mango Stem Borer beetle.
Day 5: Weds 12/4
Another day, another set of island adventures. I began with a sunrise bird walk at Punta Boca Quebrada, on the west end of the island. Although I was unable to find any Bridled Quail-Doves (my target), I enjoyed a few bird moments, including good looks at Caribbean Elaenia, a Merlin, and a couple Brown Boobies cruising by the point. The mosquitos were worse here than anywhere else the entire trip.
Back at my car, I traded my shoes and binoculars for flippers and a snorkel, then walked off the beach at Punta Arenas into an underwater paradise. My second snorkel adventure was even better than my first, for multiple reasons. A few were within my control: First, I’d learned most of the common fish, so I knew what to look for and was able to better appreciate both the common and uncommon ones. Second, I’d learned that modern iPhones are quite literally waterproof; even prolonged saltwater exposure won’t damage them. So, I ditched the phone case and was able to capture much better pictures of everything I saw. I still have much to learn about tropical fish, underwater photography, and snorkeling in general. Notably, my mask fogged up even more than the day before, and I’ve yet to find a reliable way to prevent this.
The real reason this snorkeling session was better than the first was location. Punta Arenas features a good mix of depths and terrain, all close to shore. There are several huge rocky shelves with crevices, caves, and coral, plus nearby seagrass beds and sandy bottom. It was a much more organic setting than the causeway near the pier. And the wildlife here was even more abundant and diverse. I was able to identify an astounding 36 different species of fish, including 18 I hadn’t seen or ID’d the previous day. The “best name” prize goes to Slippery Dick, a species of Wrasse. Fish seen nowhere else on the trip included French Angelfish, Doctorfish, Spanish Hogfish, Grasby and Nassau Grouper, and several species of Grunts and Snappers (I saw a whopping 11 species of grunts/snappers here). Other highlights included an eye-to-eye encounter with a foraging Southern Stingray, some Spotted Goatfish, and a bizarre Smooth Trunkfish.
There were a lot of non-fish present, too. The most interesting animals were Magnificent Feather Duster Worms, followed by Giant Anemones and a well-named Giant Hermit Crab. I didn’t encounter many urchins and saw zero sea stars. There was a wide variety of corals and sponges—some with some color, some without. I took some pictures but haven’t managed to identify most of them yet. Overall, snorkeling at Punta Arenas was an epic experience, and one of the top two or three highlights of my trip (second only to bio bay). This is at the top of my list for my next Vieques trip.
After I got back to La Finca, I enjoyed some downtime while my wife got a massage. Eventually we headed out for an adventure to the island’s famous Playa Negra (Black Sand Beach). It started along a shady, twisting path, which steadily got wetter, revealing its true form: an intermittently flooded creekbed. Eventually, the creek eventually opened into miniature beachfront lagoon. And then there was the beach. The sand was, indeed, black. It was the finest, softest sand I’ve ever felt, transported miles from the volcanic soil around Monte Pirata. The beach wasn’t entirely black, and the standard tan sand gave the black sand a run for its money. There’s apparently a balancing act between the forces that deposit various sands to this stretch of beach (with rain being the main contributor in favor of black sand). In any case, both the pure black sand and the mixed sand were beautiful, and something we’d never seen before. The beach was narrow, with crashing waves running right up to 20-foot sandstone (?) cliffs. So, our walk was short, but sweet.
Wildlife at the beach was generally confined to the creekbed trail, but it included some gems. I saw a couple insect lifers: Lesser Antillean Skimmer and an Orange-horned Tarantula-hawk Wasp. My wife especially enjoyed seeing two Small Indian Mongooses, a Green Iguana, lots of juvenile Crested Anoles, and some Common Puerto Rican Ameivas.
My wife had another spa treatment in the afternoon, so I went back out for more local exploring. I made a short stop at a random wetland near Esperanza, where I saw a couple Least Grebes, a large group of 47 Stilt Sandpipers, and a dozen other species.
My pre-trip research indicated that the Esperanza pier offered good snorkeling, so I figured I’d try that out. I tested out my endurance with a 300-meter swim from one side of the beach to the pier. It was a good workout, if nothing else. The water was cloudy, and I couldn’t see anything other than some Ribbed Barnacles and a West Indian Fuzzy Chiton on the pylons.
I drove the Jeep through some seriously gnarly roads over to Media Luna beach (another idyllic setting), then headed back home to rejoin the better half. After a nice dinner out, we called it an early night. Today’s beetle at the Airstream was a Spider Longhorn Beetle.
Day 6: Thurs 12/5
On Day 6, we slept in, and I joined my wife for yoga and breakfast at La Finca. Our main morning mission was a hike up the island’s tallest peak (basically the only mountain): Monte Pirata. It was a relatively short 1.2-mile hike up a paved road—so, easy, right? Well, combine 800 feet of elevation gain with 80-something degree temps, humidity, and sunshine, and it was quite a workout! The top featured a nearly panoramic view of the entire island, not to mention mainland Puerto Rico and distant Culebra. There were also some great informational plaques, which told a sad story about the island’s vegetation and hydrology. Basically, the only remaining native forest on the entire island is near the peak. The rest is dominated by invasive, water-thirsty mesquite, which now covers the former sugar plantations and cattle pastureland. As a result, the island has very few creeks or permanent sources of freshwater. One more consequence of colonialism.
I didn’t have the energy to focus much on animals during our hike, but nonetheless managed to see a few new bugs, including a few Statira Sulphur butterflies (lifer) and a not-yet-identified skipper. A juvenile Green Iguana proved photogenic; the juveniles are actually green, unlike the orange adults. On our next trip, I’d like to hike the peak earlier in the morning, as I expect the birdlife to be spectacular.
After lunch back at La Finca, I spent the afternoon on another solo adventure. First up was a brief snorkeling trip at Mosquito Pier. Conditions weren’t as good as the last trip, with a bit more wave action. Also, about 5 minutes into my journey, I ran face-first into a Southern Moon Jelly. The sting was relatively mild, but this threw me off mentally, so I didn’t spend much time in the water. My mask was also really foggy. Nevertheless, I managed to see 20 species of fish, including 3 new species: Longfin Damselfish, Barred Hamlet, and Yellowhead Jawfish—a weird little fish that kept extending vertically out of an underground tunnel.
Having satisfied most of my birding and fish-watching needs, I decided to shift my focus to another hobby: fish-catching. I rigged up my travel fishing rod and headed west to “El Pobre,” a small inlet where a mangrove-lined lagoon enters the ocean. It seemed like a good spot for Snook, but I would’ve settled for anything. Alas, no luck with fish. However, along my buggy hike, I saw another mongoose, some Humic Marsh Crabs, Caribbean Land Hermit Crabs, and huge colonies of termites up in the mangroves.
Next, I decided to try fishing from the pier. I wasn’t alone—several locals were free-lining (without rod or reel)—this was a good sign. It was fun watching the school of resident Houndfish chasing after my bait, but it was too big for them. After some effort, I brought in a nice foot-long Blue Runner (lifer), which I released back. I also hooked a monster fish that sent my reel screaming; that one got away, breaking my line on the dock pilings. I also saw another sea turtle, which surfaced super close to the pier. It was big—3 or 4 feet long—so it must have been a Green Sea Turtle, as opposed to a Hawksbill, which doesn’t get this size. I almost got a great video of it, but user error intervened.
I left a bit before sunset, right as everyone else was showing up for the show. Back at La Finca, I convinced my wife to join me for sunset the following evening. After dinner at the Airstream, we called it a night amid the ever-present frog chorus.
Day 7: Fri 12/6
Day 7 was our final full day on Vieques—another beautiful day in paradise. I was jazzed about the fishing opportunities at the pier, so I returned at sunrise while my wife enjoyed a more relaxing morning of yoga, etc. About five minutes after I arrived, I brought in a handsome Cero Makerel (lifer). It was also fun to see huge schools of Blue Runners; I hooked another small one, but it popped off the hook as I hauled it out of the water. Also notable were a few 3- to 4-foot long Atlantic Tarpon, which almost took my bait. Although I didn’t hook any, it was cool watching one surface to breathe a gulp of air. Other near misses included some big Bar Jacks, which consistently turned away at the last second. Unfortunately, my fishing expedition was cut short when a tour boat respectfully asked me to leave the pier while their clients dove around the pylons. I could see myself in their shoes, so I didn’t begrudge them too much.
Mid-morning, my wife and I ventured out for a journey to the National Wildlife Refuge occupying the eastern half of the island. Most of it is off-limits due to unexploded ordinance, but a handful of beaches are open, including Playa la Chiva. This beach is remote, down miles of unpaved roads. The drive in featured some nice wildlife, including a mongoose, an iguana, and some American Coots and Ruddy Ducks at a lagoon near the beach (both of these waterfowl are apparently quite rare on the island). A bunch of big fish were tailing in the lagoon, but I couldn’t get them to hit a bait, and I’m not sure what they were. Snook, maybe?
The beach itself was the most picturesque and private beach we’ve ever visited, and nearly empty. Less than a dozen other humans were scattered across the mile-wide bay.
Right in the middle of the bay—about 250 yards from shore—is Isla Chiva, a known snorkeling spot. So, after a short swim across some shallow seagrass beds, I made it to the rocky west side of the island. Near the middle of the island, I found a small cave (or portal?—not sure what to call it) that offered some interesting photo opportunities.
Underwater, the visibility was good, as was the scenery—a nice mix of boulders, coral, sand, and seagrass. Although there wasn’t quite as much coral, and generally fewer fish, than Punta Arenas, it was still worth a visit. I saw a nice mix of 26 fish species, including 3 new ones (Redtail Parrotfish, Western Atlantic Trumpetfish, and Sand Diver).
There were literally hundreds of Atlantic Rock-boring Urchins blanketing the sandy seafloor in places. Giant Anemones, Bearded Fireworms, Yellow Fanworms (lifer), and Scaly Chiton (lifer) were also interesting.
Back on shore, my wife and I enjoyed a nice beach walk in the shallows. After my wife almost stepped on a Southern Stingray, we moved back to dry land!
Late afternoon involved relaxing at La Finca, followed by sunset at Mosquito Pier. Upon arrival, we were surprised to find three relatively tame mongooses eating cat food in the parking lot.
I tried some fishing from the pier, but that was interrupted by a small rainstorm that appeared out of nowhere. Back under cover, we enjoyed spectacular views of the sun dipping below the southern edge of mainland Puerto Rico, framed by distant rainclouds.
After a dinner out and a relaxing evening, we called it an early night, as usual.
Day 8: Sat 12/7
We didn’t have much time for activities on our final day, so we stayed close to La Finca. After a self-cooked breakfast, we walked the nearby roads. The goal (well, my wife’s goal) was to find a horse to feed the remainder of The World’s Biggest Carrot, which we were unable to finish off ourselves. Finding a horse was surprisingly difficult, but this worked in my favor. About a half mile from home, I heard an interesting cooing noise, which turned out to be a Ruddy Quail-Dove singing. This heard-only lifer was an exciting sendoff. We also eventually found some horses.
After packing up, we bid our Airstream adieu and headed to the small airport on Vieques, where we joined two other passengers a puddlejumper. The flight was really scenic. It was also really efficient; it took only 20 minutes to cover 55 air-miles between Vieques and San Juan (next time, we’ll likely take this flight both ways and skip the long Uber/ferry logistics). We entered the San Juan airport via maintenance tunnels, then through normal security, then short layover, and then a long flight back home to the 40-something degree North Carolina weather. I’m already ready to return to Puerto Rico!
Summary by the Numbers
This trip was travel-heavy, including a lot of assisted movement: ~ 2900 miles by jet, 55 by puddlejumper, 100 by rental Jeep, 56 by cab, and 14 by ferry. Human-powered travel included ~13.5 miles on foot, 0.8 swimming, and 0.5 by kayak.
I encountered a modest 64 bird species during the trip. This included 5 lifers (Green-throated Carib, Least Grebe, Scaly-breasted Munia, Caribbean Elaenia, and Ruddy Quail-Dove). In addition to the lifers, I saw 11 other species I didn’t see on our trip to Puerto Rico earlier this year, bringing my total for the territory to 119 species.
I saw a whopping 54 different species of fish, including 4 from above-water (fishing, etc.) and 51 while snorkeling. Nearly all were lifers. The fish were undoubtedly the wildlife highlights of the trip.
Herps were fairly abundant; I saw 7 species of reptiles (one lifer: Puerto Rican Bush Anole) and saw or heard at least 4 species of amphibians (3 lifers: Cuban Treefrog, Antillean Coqui, Whistling Coqui).
Mammals—at least wild mammals—were few and far between, represented by a single non-native species (Small Indian Mongoose), which was nonetheless a lifer for me.
Invertebrates were everywhere, but I wasn’t particularly diligent in documenting them. I’m out of steam, so I’m not going to try to quantify them in detail. But excluding corals and sponges (which are animals), I saw 42 new species of invertebrates! This includes 4 new butterflies, 3 new dragonflies, several beetles, spiders, etc., plus lots of interesting aquatic invertebrates.
As usual, I took a ton of photos. However, the balance between my DSLR and iPhone was unusual. I took only 291 photos with my Nikon D500, as I was not particularly focused on bird or wildlife photography. By contrast, I took a whopping 1030 photos with my iPhone 15 Pro (which I think is a new personal record). Many of these were landscape photos, but several hundred were underwater photos while snorkeling—essentially my first underwater photography experience.
Ok, that’s it. Until next time—and there will definitely be a next time to Vieques!