The Laguna Cartagena National Wildlife Refuge bursts with birds year-round, but also offers hiking and mountain biking trails and some pretty spectacular scenery. Managed by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, this wetland is one of the most important freshwater habitats for migrating and resident aquatic birds in Puerto Rico.
Almost half the birds recorded in Puerto Rico have been observed in the lagoon and its nearby hills. Visitors have a good chance of seeing a Magnificent Frigatebird, several species of herons, smooth-billed ani, the common moorhen, and occasionally the yellow-shouldered blackbird. I even saw white egrets and an osprey.
So if you’re anywhere near the southwest coast of the island, you should put on your hiking shoes, grab a pair of binoculars, a bottle of water, and a good camera, and spend a morning watching the avian activity and enjoying the birdsongs.
The trails are closed during nesting season – early March to late August – so time your visit well.
We wandered down to the coastal area of Palmas del Mar and discovered pelicans having a feeding frenzy on fish in the Atlantic Ocean. It was an amazing sight! Thought we’d share.
Palmas del Mar is a lush golf course/tennis resort development on the southeast end of the island of Puerto Rico. We spent 12 nights there. The beach is largely inaccessible, except by golf cart or walking over to this stretch. There was a lot of sargassum, and it stunk. But the views were gorgeous and clearly the fish — and thus, the seabirds — loved it!
Why do I love kayaking? It’s hard to explain, but today’s excursion on the Caribbean Sea really has me thinking about it. Let me try to explain.
Boqueron Bay, February, 2022
Kayaking in Vermont
I have spent the past two summers on Lake Rescue in Vermont, where I spent hours paddling around that 200-acre body of water in the Green Mountains. Nowhere do I feel more at home than tucked into my little orange boat, floating in the middle of Lake Rescue.
But that watery home was always changing, a metaphor for life, I guess. Sometimes I would slip out of bed at 6 AM and waft my boat into the early morning fog, beckoned by the haunting calls of the loons. Sometimes I would escape my family (this was the pandemic, after all) for some quiet time to myself after dinner, and watch the bald eagle father interact with his child as the sun set over the lake.
Misty morning Vermont, August, 2021
Sometimes I would kayak fiercely down to the Red Bridge at the far end of the lake, only to see a storm coming in that would soak me as I fought the winds to get home.
On weekend afternoons in summer, I would soak up the energy of my neighbors as some people water skied, another set up a lemonade stand on the family dock, kids dove off platforms out on the water, and a giant inflatable pink pelican bobbed up and down.
Come fall, the people would leave, and Lake Rescue would become a place of peace and solitude. Most of the local birds would leave, but then visiting ones would arrive, stopping for a few days here and there on their way south, sometimes providing a thrilling show.
Kayaking in the Caribbean Sea
Kayaking in Puerto Rico is a completely different animal. We’re currently living in the southwest corner of the island, and the Caribbean Sea is an impossibly glorious shade of turquoise, or deep blue, or aquamarine, depending on the angle of the sun and the invisible organisms living in the water. The sea itself is a living being, breathing in and out onto the shore. Its waves can welcome your boat and gently accompany you on your ride, or they can toss you around, throw up obstacles, and remind you that you are a tiny speck on a huge ocean.
The calm before the storm
Kayak out a ways from shore and the world looks different. The palm trees wave from a distance. The sky becomes huge. Sometimes it grows angry, and besets you with torrents of water. It slaps you and resists you and makes you feel small and powerless.
Sometimes it teases you with beautiful weather, only to reveal its true nature when you’re far from shore and see the black clouds moving in, the ones that were hidden from view when your feet were on land. The waves grow restless. The thunder rumbles. The surging water decides which way you will go. White seabirds glow as they soar above you, reflecting the sun to your right, a stark contrast to the black clouds to the left.
Here comes the rain again
The views are spectacular. Sailboats pose in front of black skies like supermodels strutting down a runway. You want to take pictures, but the sea takes your boat where it wants while you are focusing and shooting. You wrest control back from the sea as best you can — you, an insignificant mortal, vs. the sea, the turquoise lifeblood of the planet.
A rogue wave hits you. You are covered with water. It’s all over you; it’s around you; it’s under you. You are soaked. The sea is still restless. The strong wind pushes your hat off. You are glad you don’t have shoes; your bare feet are connected to the plastic boat. You keep paddling. You are soaked but still upright. You feel invigorated. You lean back in your seat, put your feet up, stop paddling, just experience the moment. Out in the middle of the sea. Water all around you. Sun above; storm approaching. You are part of the ocean. You are inside the water. You are physically connected to the planet.
One paddle, two blades. Dip left, dip right, left, right, one fluid movement. Get a rhythm and fly across the water. Or not.
Who would expect to see so many kinds of cacti on a tropical island? We were intrigued to view the turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea from a desert trail in Guánica State Forest, on the southwest end of Puerto Rico.
A United Nations International Biosphere Reserve, the Guánica State Forest, also known as Guánica dry Fores , is one of the most extensive tropical dry coastal forests in the world, totaling around 9,000 acres. It’s a paradise for birdwatchers, and we saw many. Read all about it.
Enjoy Bob’s video of our 3.7-mile hike along the rocky coast and through the desert.
Our day spent hiking and beaching also presented us with captivating flora and fauna! Lisa took a few pictures of her favorites, especially the red-billed oystercatchers. She guessed the name after watching them in action!
Weird cactus treeCactus by the seaMr. CrabOyster cathingPelican and egret fishingCactiHe can catch oysters with that strong long beak.
I kayaked Lake Rescue in 29 degrees this morning to see how it looked with its trees, some still fall-tinged, cloaked in soft early snow, and encountered an astonishing 25 loons swimming together back and forth in the south end.
I assume they were a migrating group that came from the Adirondack lakes and were gathering up others on their way migrating to the Atlantic coast. They made no sound, just swam together, occasionally craning their necks or ruffling their wings.
In the end, they took to the air, flying together in three or four glorious circles around the lake, sometimes, right over my head, before heading off to parts unknown.
Goodbye, loons. Safe travels. Thanks for the memories. See you next year!
Addendum: I have since learned that these birds are in fact not loons but white-winged scoters. Still stunning.
We have been summering at Lake Rescue in Ludlow, Vermont, and the sheer magnitude of the wild birds that make their home on and around this 184-acre body of water in the Green Mountains is breathtaking. The secret to seeing the most avian activity is to rise early and get out on the lake, preferably in a kayak, to observe the birds’ early-morning fishing routines before the human population begins to intrude. Here are a few.
(If you click on the pictures, they will expand to full size.)
Duck Duck Goose
Ducks and geese are by far the most common bird we have found on the lake. They are bold and will swim right up to your boat or climb on your dock.
Loons
Common loons have been living on Lake Rescue for more than a decade.
Herons
I was fortunate to encounter Great Blue Herons and Snowy Egrets fishing early in the morning on Round Pond, at the north end of Lake Rescue. The grasses on the isthmus between the lake and the Black River, and the sand bar created by storms, provide and enticing place for birds to walk and fish.
Ospreys
We discovered ospreys, on the direction of a neighbor, in a cove near the Red Bridge.
Bald Eagle
A bald eagle family maintains a nest in a cove near Discovery Island, and returns year after year to hatch new eggs.
