Thursday, September 17, 2009
Underwater Tarpon Fishing
Angler Richard Gill (great last name) sent me this video of he and his brother-in-law flyfishing for tarpon in Belize with out a boat, or a kayak, or a beach. This is one of the coolest things I've seen in a while. There is bit of bad language in this video but most of it is spoken in Snorkelese.
Friday, September 11, 2009
September Bonefishing
September is an especially quiet time for tourism on Vieques but it provides for some of the best bonefish action of the year. The best thing about the fall is calmer winds which make casting the these fish much easier for inexperienced anglers. Now that I'm back on Pine Island for the season Capt. Franco Gonzalez (787)450-3744 has the bonefish of Ensenada Honda all to himself. This bay at the southeast end of Vieques has the most consistent flat I've ever seen for shot at tailing bones and Franco has the best boat to take you there.
If he happens to be booked or your budget won't allow a guided trip then the small flat at Encampment Beach is your best bet. I recently fished with angler Matt Kerstang up here on Pine Island and he had just returned from a self-guided trip to Vieques. He reported several hookups of bones at Encampment and even some great snook fishing at Laguna Kiani. Both of these spots are easy to find and for exact directions click here:
www.better-flats-fishing.com/fishing-encampment-beach.html
www.better-flats-fishing.com/laguna-kiani.html
Just remember that there are still no tackle shops on Vieques so pack everything you'll need in advance.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Cars On Vieques
Cuba is famous for its fleet of pre-1959 American cars. A rolling time capsule of Buicks, Fords, and Cadillacs are part of the scenery of the Castro’s island. These classic examples of Detroit at its finest have been kept running despite a total lack of spare parts, thanks to their ingenious owners and the quality of their original designs.
Here on Vieques you won’t see anything like the Cuban parade of classics. There are a few old muscle cars tooling around, including a ’69 Camaro that belongs on a drag strip and a flawless ’65 Mustang, but these are rare birds that seem way out of place running over the horse dung and iguanas on our narrow roads. Unfortunately, the vehicular complexion of Vieques is a lot less photogenic.
This is an island where the much maligned SUV is king. Sorry Tree Huggers, but we actually need them down here. I own two, and I don’t use them to pick up the kids from soccer practice. My SUVs proudly get driven like they were meant to be driven: abusively and often in four-wheel-drive.
My favorite is a 1989 Jeep Wrangler, the perfect vehicle for Vieques. It’s as indestructible as it is uncomfortable. Old Jeeps are great for their simplicity and mine has a 4.0 liter carbureted engine, manual transmission, and nothing is computerized or electronically controlled. This makes it very easy to work on, and anyone who owns one of these old Jeeps knows that something is usually broken.
My Wrangler is no different and is about as far from showroom condition as it gets. Rust must have been standard equipment in 1980’s Jeeps and the radio, heater, horn, and wipers have never worked either. It has no top or side windows but that’s ok since the rain washes the mud and sand out of the holes in the floorboard. Even the starter usually has issues in the morning but this isn’t too much of a problem since I live on a hill and can roll-start it if necessary.
None of that matters to me. Despite my twenty year old Jeep’s condition, once it’s running nothing can stop it. It has hauled me to the most unspoiled beaches and bonefish flats on Vieques and never left me stuck in the mud. It’s towed both of my boats all over the island during four years of charters and never kept anyone waiting. It’s compact enough to bang its way through the narrow jungle trails or squeeze into a parking space on the jammed up streets of Isabel Segunda on the weekdays. And best of all, I never have to wash or wax it.
Our second vehicle is at the other end of the SUV spectrum; a 1994 Toyota 4-Runner. I bought this for my wife a year after we moved to the island for one reason: this isn’t really an SUV, it’s a tank. The only thing it’s missing is a 120mm turret-mounted cannon. These old school Toyotas are the most indestructible vehicles ever built for everyday road use. This one has automatic everything and could tow a house. Its engine is as reliable as the day is long. With over 150,000 miles on it, the only serious work we’ve ever had done to the 4-Runner is a brake job.
The down side to driving a 4-Runner around Vieques is its size. Unlike a Jeep, it’s a tight fit on some if the island’s roads. My wife once had the front quarter panel kicked in by a wild horse that didn’t like being crowded by the green behemoth. This jammed the driver’s door shut and we crawl over the passenger seat until a friend popped out the dent. Only on Vieques.
There is a benefit to driving a tank-like SUV on a small island and that’s safety. In addition to the horses and other wandering livestock, the real danger on the roads of Vieques is the other drivers. The young men on the island, like young men everywhere, drive like absolute maniacs. I was just as guilty of The Need For Speed myself and I’m amazed that I survived owning a 280Z as a teenager. The kids down here are into the “Tuner” scene, which means basically taking a tiny four-cylinder Honda with the aileron from an F-16 bolted to its trunk and blasting around as fast as possible. Driving defensively on Vieques is crucial and the big Toyota 4-Runner is the only thing we use at night or on the weekends.
Both of our SUVs are gas hogs but fortunately you don’t rack up a lot of miles living on twenty-four mile long Vieques. We’ve probably put no more than 3000 miles a year on each vehicle. And despite the abusive roads, it’s actually easy to keep a well made SUV running for a long time on the island. Like Cuba, there are a handful of mechanical geniuses on Vieques and our neighbor Mr. Henry is the best. It may take him over a week to get to your car but there’s very little he can’t fix. And unlike Cuba, we can get spare parts for anything flown here.
I get a handful of phone calls and e-mails each month from folks moving to Vieques or seriously thinking about it and cars are always a big question. If you’re one of these people I wrote this column for you. Leave the BMW at home and pick up either an easily repaired Jeep or an ultra-reliable Toyota SUV once you’re down here. And one last thing: no matter how many times you see it, or what the other gringos at Al’s or Duffy’s tell you, driving around with an open beer on Vieques IS illegal. And wear your seatbelt, too.
Here on Vieques you won’t see anything like the Cuban parade of classics. There are a few old muscle cars tooling around, including a ’69 Camaro that belongs on a drag strip and a flawless ’65 Mustang, but these are rare birds that seem way out of place running over the horse dung and iguanas on our narrow roads. Unfortunately, the vehicular complexion of Vieques is a lot less photogenic.
This is an island where the much maligned SUV is king. Sorry Tree Huggers, but we actually need them down here. I own two, and I don’t use them to pick up the kids from soccer practice. My SUVs proudly get driven like they were meant to be driven: abusively and often in four-wheel-drive.
My favorite is a 1989 Jeep Wrangler, the perfect vehicle for Vieques. It’s as indestructible as it is uncomfortable. Old Jeeps are great for their simplicity and mine has a 4.0 liter carbureted engine, manual transmission, and nothing is computerized or electronically controlled. This makes it very easy to work on, and anyone who owns one of these old Jeeps knows that something is usually broken.
My Wrangler is no different and is about as far from showroom condition as it gets. Rust must have been standard equipment in 1980’s Jeeps and the radio, heater, horn, and wipers have never worked either. It has no top or side windows but that’s ok since the rain washes the mud and sand out of the holes in the floorboard. Even the starter usually has issues in the morning but this isn’t too much of a problem since I live on a hill and can roll-start it if necessary.
None of that matters to me. Despite my twenty year old Jeep’s condition, once it’s running nothing can stop it. It has hauled me to the most unspoiled beaches and bonefish flats on Vieques and never left me stuck in the mud. It’s towed both of my boats all over the island during four years of charters and never kept anyone waiting. It’s compact enough to bang its way through the narrow jungle trails or squeeze into a parking space on the jammed up streets of Isabel Segunda on the weekdays. And best of all, I never have to wash or wax it.
Our second vehicle is at the other end of the SUV spectrum; a 1994 Toyota 4-Runner. I bought this for my wife a year after we moved to the island for one reason: this isn’t really an SUV, it’s a tank. The only thing it’s missing is a 120mm turret-mounted cannon. These old school Toyotas are the most indestructible vehicles ever built for everyday road use. This one has automatic everything and could tow a house. Its engine is as reliable as the day is long. With over 150,000 miles on it, the only serious work we’ve ever had done to the 4-Runner is a brake job.
The down side to driving a 4-Runner around Vieques is its size. Unlike a Jeep, it’s a tight fit on some if the island’s roads. My wife once had the front quarter panel kicked in by a wild horse that didn’t like being crowded by the green behemoth. This jammed the driver’s door shut and we crawl over the passenger seat until a friend popped out the dent. Only on Vieques.
There is a benefit to driving a tank-like SUV on a small island and that’s safety. In addition to the horses and other wandering livestock, the real danger on the roads of Vieques is the other drivers. The young men on the island, like young men everywhere, drive like absolute maniacs. I was just as guilty of The Need For Speed myself and I’m amazed that I survived owning a 280Z as a teenager. The kids down here are into the “Tuner” scene, which means basically taking a tiny four-cylinder Honda with the aileron from an F-16 bolted to its trunk and blasting around as fast as possible. Driving defensively on Vieques is crucial and the big Toyota 4-Runner is the only thing we use at night or on the weekends.
Both of our SUVs are gas hogs but fortunately you don’t rack up a lot of miles living on twenty-four mile long Vieques. We’ve probably put no more than 3000 miles a year on each vehicle. And despite the abusive roads, it’s actually easy to keep a well made SUV running for a long time on the island. Like Cuba, there are a handful of mechanical geniuses on Vieques and our neighbor Mr. Henry is the best. It may take him over a week to get to your car but there’s very little he can’t fix. And unlike Cuba, we can get spare parts for anything flown here.
I get a handful of phone calls and e-mails each month from folks moving to Vieques or seriously thinking about it and cars are always a big question. If you’re one of these people I wrote this column for you. Leave the BMW at home and pick up either an easily repaired Jeep or an ultra-reliable Toyota SUV once you’re down here. And one last thing: no matter how many times you see it, or what the other gringos at Al’s or Duffy’s tell you, driving around with an open beer on Vieques IS illegal. And wear your seatbelt, too.
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