Formerly known as the Passage Islands, Culebra and Vieques, the two biggest islands in a group that includes a couple of dozen smaller islets, or cayos—some of which are no bigger than glorified rocks—were used for target practice by the U.S. Navy between 1939 and 1975, when protests by the locals forced the Navy to stop shelling Culebra and concentrate on the larger Vieques. The last bombs fell on Vieques in 2003. Since then peace has reigned.
Perhaps the stigma of those days lingers among tourists and even sailors, because the Spanish Virgins remain firmly off the beaten track, both physically and metaphorically. This is just fine and dandy with those who like uncrowded anchorages, beautiful beaches, pristine waters and a total lack of cruise ships.
On my first visit to the SVI’s, piloting a catamaran from CYOA Yacht Charters out of St. Thomas—roughly 20 miles to the east—I spent several days marveling at how unspoiled by development these islands were, and how neglected by the cruising and charter communities. Four years later, I returned on a boat from Sail Caribe in Fajardo on the Puerto Rican mainland and marveled all over again at the lack of crowding and the unspoiled nature of the islands. It’s a rare thing in the BVI to have an anchorage to yourself: not so in the Spanish Virgins.
Similar in aspect—i.e. hilly and scrubby—to the other two groups of Virgins to their east, the BVI and USVI, the Spanish Virgins nevertheless retain a sense of sleepy individuality. The population of Vieques is concentrated in the middle of the island, as unexploded ordnance is still being cleared from the old ranges on the eastern and western ends, and some tempting anchorages are still out of bounds due to the risk of dropping your hook on top of a rusty bomb.
The main town, Esperanza, has a pleasantly Spanish vibe, with a decent anchorage, a pretty tree-lined promenade along the waterfront and a handful of restaurants serving up excellent local seafood. One Saturday night we watched a handful of young blades trotting up and down the main drag on their horses under the admiring gaze of assorted young ladies—a nice take on the age-old sport of Cruisin’ Main. After dinner, we took a kayak tour of the nearby bioluminescent bay, where fish drilled green tunnels through the inky waters below us and our canoes left sparkling wakes.
Culebra has a different vibe altogether. Its well-protected main anchorage is packed with sailboats, many of which have obviously not moved in some time. Not surprising, really—it’s the kind of place that makes you think, hey, I may just hang here for a while. We took a taxi from Dewey, the island’s only town, to Playa Flamenco, which I reckon is the equal of any beach in the world, only to find an even more enticing beach on the other side of the hill, where the youngsters enjoyed the tumbling surf for hours.
Our hands-down favorite on both trips to the SVI, though, was the tiny uninhabited island of Culebrita, where the ruins of a lighthouse atop the hill offers panoramic views and there’s a perfect half-moon beach for a post-lunch swim. You may have to share the anchorage with a couple of other boats, but there’s room for many more. Which, in a nutshell, pretty much sums up the attraction of the Spanish Virgins.