On San Andres, a small Colombian island in an archipelago off the Caribbean coast of Nicaragua, counting the blues in the famous “Sea of Seven Colors” is on every visitor’s to-do list. It’s a midday activity done en route as you cruise between the valleys, or keys, that dot the eastern side of San Andres: low (mostly) uninhabited spots that are little more than palm-fringed coral and surrounded by sandbars.
From my perch, I counted six: a deep sapphire, a dark azure, streaks of teal, turquoise, and cerulean, and, in the distance, a strip of brilliant blue at the edge of a tiny palm-fringed island.
“Do you see seven?” asked the captain of the boat.
When I told him my account, he laughed. “Six?” he said. “That means you can still relax a little more.”
San Andres isn’t on the radar of many U.S. travelers, but in Latin America, and especially among Colombians, it’s a coveted honeymoon destination or long-weekend retreat—a mid-ocean spot to disconnect from everything you weighed on the mainland.
Connection to history
The archipelago of San Andres and Providencia is more than 400 miles north of mainland Colombia and closer to 100 miles east of Nicaragua, but thanks to a historical wrinkle that’s still being ironed out, it’s part of Colombia.
Kent Francis James, 73, was the archipelago’s governor in the 1990s and advised the current local and national government on border issues with Nicaragua. But his passion, he said when I met him in San Andres, is helping tourists connect more deeply with the island’s history.
“We want you to come here not just to burn your skin, but to bring home a better understanding of Caribbean history,” he said, as we sat on the balcony of his home overlooking the water in the distance, framed by bougainvillea and palm trees.
Mr. James scanned the horizon and pointed out the wrecks that litter the island’s waters. “Geographically we were in the route of the Spanish coming up the coast with gold, so that’s where the pirates used to be on the lookout,” he explained, describing how travelers often underestimated the shallow waters surrounding the many islands and ran aground — much to the pirates’ delight. such as the Welsh-born Sir Henry Morgan, who is believed to have used San Andres as a base of operations.
We were technically in Colombia, but Mr. James spoke in broken English – his accent in itself a nod to the island’s history.
Although the Dutch and Christopher Columbus are believed to have landed on the archipelago, it was the British who settled San Andres around 1630. English was the first language of the island and is still spoken today by the local islanders.
Unlike most places in Latin America, San Andres has no record of indigenous people on the island. It was apparently uninhabited when the Europeans arrived. And so when locals refer to “native” islanders, they are referring to the descendants of the original British settlers or, more commonly, the descendants of the once-enslaved Africans those settlers brought.
This Afro-Caribbean ethnic group is called Raizal, a take-off of the Spanish word for “roots.”
Posadas Nativas
Cleotilde Henry, 75, is one of the island’s Raizal leaders. Her family traces back to the African slave trade, she explained, as she left crisp slices of fried fruit and balls of sweet coconut on her dining room table. She didn’t make the treats just for me — she prepares them every day for the tourists who rent rooms upstairs in her house through the island’s posadas nativas program, or native inn program.
“I was born in this house,” she said, pointing around the small living room at the yellowed family portraits in wooden frames and crocheted tablecloths. “When I thought about what I could do to make money from tourism, the only thing I had was this house.”
Today Ms Henry, who is also the president of the archipelago’s Posadas Nativas Association, rents out 12 rooms, which can be found under the name ‘Cli’s Place’ on travel booking sites such as Booking.com.
Across the archipelago, around 200 houses have been designated “posadas nativas”, offering tourists the chance to stay with a local family – usually under the watchful eye of the matriarch – in their home and eat local Raizal food.
It is the local solution to a global challenge: how to preserve a place’s unique identity when tourism begins to boom. Less than 20 years ago, Raizal residents made up 57 percent of San Andres’ population, but every year that number dwindles as mainland Colombians drift into the blue waters of island life.
A bikini and a golf cart
Although the beaches of San Andres are not among the most beautiful in the world, the water is only a short distance from the sea, thanks to the submerged reefs, and so many visitors skip exploring the interior of the island to get wet.
Each cube is different from the next. Johnny Cay, located across the water from the more populated northern part of San Andres, looks like the dictionary entry for “desert island”: a grove of palm trees surrounded by white sand. Rocky Cay is little more than its namesake rock, with a meager beach bar and a rusting wreck jutting out of the water next to it. You reach Haynes Cay by wading through waist-deep water, holding a swinging rope that connects the cay to a restaurant built on a sand bar. A typical San Andres day vacation involves digging among the hills, pausing to sleep in their palm trees or swim in the water around them, and counting blues along the way.
Like the pirates of the past, today’s snorkelers and divers are fascinated by the sunken ships that dot the waters, as they explore the underwater ecosystems created by these wrecks. In 2000, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization created the vast Seaflower Biosphere Reserve, a vast marine protected area surrounding the islands.
“It’s like a mountain range under the water here, and that’s why we have deep spots, but also these sandbars and valleys,” explained Jorge Sanchez, 68, a former diving instructor on the island who invited me to his home one afternoon to see topological maps of the ocean floor of the area. Waving his hand at a map, he added, “Ocean species don’t know where the border between Colombia and Nicaragua is, so this is a great place to see all kinds of animals from different places.”
Even if you don’t enjoy the waves, San Andres is a great setting to enjoy the seven shades of blue from afar. And the not-too-steep hills and fairly smooth roads mean the coolest, most fun way to do it is to rent a mule (pronounced moo-LAY), a small golf cart, the typical way visitors move to the island.
I had never driven a golf cart any significant distance, so when Ms. Henry suggested I put on my bathing suit and take one to the island, I balked. But about an hour later, I was grinning like a fool, the ocean wind blowing my hair as I cruised down the coast road at about 25 mph, motorcycles zipping around me. I cruised through the valleys, jumping into the water when it called, heading down to the less populated southern tip of the island. Stopped for lunch at Raizal Restaurant Miss Janice Place for fried fish and coconut rice.
On the way back, I planned to stop by Mr. James’s house, to tell him about my day. With no good cell signal on the island, the only way I could do this was to pop in, so I headed for his place, until my mule bucks became less frequent, and I finally realized the engine had died. My trusty mule was sliding backwards down the hill. I hit the brake, slowing the skid, but I couldn’t get the engine to turn again. Fortunately, some utility workers saw the scene, suppressed their laughter, and came to my rescue. They improvised a solution and carried the golf cart to the top of the hill using long wires. I told them I was visiting Mr. James, and one of the workmen turned and shouted over a wall of bushes — “Mr. Kent! We found an American!”
Smiling, Mr. James came out of his property to greet me, and as I wrote a thank you note to my utility heroes, he explained that he wasn’t surprised to see me.
“Because a tourist can spend his days on the beach and fill his stomach with our food and rum and then go home and never come back,” he said. “But once you start talking to locals about our history, you’ll always want to come back.”
If you go
Gustavo Rojas Pinilla International Airport has direct connections to Panama City, Panama and many cities in Colombia, while from San Andres you can catch a flight to the neighboring island of Providencia.
Once you arrive on the island, the best way to get around is either by taxi, which can be easily found in the center of San Andres or pre-arranged, or by mule, which can be rented for about 200,000 Colombian pesos, or about $51, per day.
Staying at a posada nativa, or local inn, is the ultimate island immersion experience and is often the most affordable accommodation option. expect to pay around 235,000 Colombian pesos per night with breakfast. Cli’s Place Posada Nativa, Posada Nativa Licy and Miss Trinie’s Posada Nativa are some of the most popular.
For a more luxurious experience, Decameron operates several hotels on the island, including Decameron Isleno on Spratt Bight Beach, a centrally located, all-inclusive option for around one million Colombian pesos per night. Hotel Casablanca offers rooms overlooking Johnny Cay for around 1.1 million Colombian pesos per night. Short-term rental options are also available through Airbnb. Many are within condominium complexes and feature amenities such as pools, concierges and gyms.
Niko’s Seafood is a mid-range restaurant near downtown San Andres that serves fresh fish cooked for about 50,000 Colombian pesos.
La Regatta is perhaps the fanciest restaurant in San Andres, specializing in seafood such as ceviche for 75,000 Colombian pesos or grilled lobster with coconut rice (215,000 Colombian pesos) served on a patio over the water near downtown San Andres. Reservations are required, ask for the patio.
Miss Janice Place at the southern tip of San Andres in San Luis offers typical Raizal fare for 40,000 Colombian pesos for a main, accompanied by coconut rice and jars of natural fruit juice.
Namasté Beach Club San Andres is near Rocky Cay with chic sunbeds and a menu that varies from beach snacks like empanadas (about 30,000 Colombian pesos) to proper dinner like fried local fish (50,000 Colombian pesos).
Follow New York Times Travel on Instagram and subscribe to the Travel Dispatch weekly newsletter to get expert tips to travel smarter and inspiration for your next vacation. Dreaming of a future getaway or just an armchair trip? Take a look at ours 52 places to go in 2024.
