Ferry para culebra puerto rico: Ceiba Culebra – Puerto Rico Ferry anchored by Hornblower

Información del ferry

Ferry Information

Location

The ferry terminal is located in Ceiba, PR. It is approximately a one hour drive from the San Juan International Airport. The information below provides helpful information about our Puerto Rico Ferry to Culebra.

Discover Puerto Rico website ferry information: https://www.discoverpuertorico.com/ceiba-ferry-terminal/

Address: Ceiba Ferry Terminal  Marina Drive  Roosevelt Roads

Google Maps: Ceiba Ferry Terminal

Advance Ferry Tickets

• Website: https://www.puertoricoferry.com/
• Ferry schedules and daily itineraries are available on https://www.puertoricoferry.com/
• Advance sales are not always available.
• Purchase round trip tickets.
• Tickets can sell out fast because there is a limited number of tickets offered for sale online.
• The online booking tool usually lets you purchase tickets about 3 weeks in advance.
• Start checking the online booking tool 3 weeks in advance of your departure date to Culebra to purchase available online tickets.

In Person Ticket Purchasing 

• Ferry tickets are available at the Ceiba ferry terminal.
• Ferry schedules and daily itineraries are available on puertoricoferry.com
• Arrive at the ferry port at least 1 hour in advance of the departure time to purchase your tickets.
• Holidays can be very busy so it is recommended you arrive a few hours before your departure time to purchase tickets.
• Purchase round trip tickets.
• Cargo ferry tickets, which include tickets for cars, are usually only available on the day of travel and must be purchased at the ferry terminal in person. These tickets are available for residents only.
• Be aware that commercial vehicles and resident vehicles have priority boarding. Space is often limited. 
• Afternoon tickets are usually more available than morning tickets.

Parking

• Parking is available in Ceiba.
• There is a daily rate for each vehicle.
• The parking lot is located about 1/4 mile from the ferry terminal.
• Shuttles run back and forth from the parking lot to the ferry terminal.

Phone

• Toll free: +1 800-981-2005
• Main: +1 787-497-7740
• Culebra Ticket Office: +1 787-742-3161

Note

• The inside of the ferry can be very cold. I usually wear long sleeves, lightweight pants, and bring a lightweight blanket/sarong to cover up.
• Be prepared for delays and cancellations i.e. charged electronics, snacks, and beverages.
• There are two types of ferries. One is called the Cargo/Passenger ferry and the other is a Passenger ferry.
  
• If you are planning on bringing a rental car on the Cargo ferry it is advised you check with the rental car agency to ensure bringing the rental car to Culebra is allowed by the rental car agency.
• It is usually impossible to get someone on the telephone. The ferry staff is busy serving customers in person.

St. Thomas Charter & Ferry Services

St. Thomas Ferry Services

World class Duty Free Shopping

Only available for private charter groups of 30 + passengers

We depart from the Puerto Del Rey Marina in Fajardo on a high-speed wave-piercer. Our guests enjoy the beautiful views of Puerto Rico’s east coast, and Culebra’s south coast. After approximately 2 hours we arrive in the famed harbor of Charlotte Amalie.

We then dock at the downtown waterfront area of this colonial Danish town and process the necessary paperwork for customs.

Guests are able to walk through the shopping alleys where they’ll find the numerous world-class shops irresistible. There are plenty of good restaurants to choose from for lunch, or some may choose to take a taxi to a nearby beach. It is important that guests travel in small groups to avoid getting lost or losing track of time while exploring the island. Guests must return to the boat by 3:30 pm (or time informed by captain day of) for the return trip to Puerto Rico US Customs in Puerto Rico will require guests to declare their imports upon return, and provide all the necessary travel documents two days before departure. A valid picture ID for US citizens and birth date are necessary or a passport for non-citizens.

Tour Site Information:

This private charter departs from Marina Puerto del Rey in Fajardo, Puerto Rico at 8:00am please be on site at 7:00am for check-inn procces. If you have any questions about the boarding process or regarding your reservation please contact us at +1 (787) 860-3434.

This old style schooner lends a bit of character to your tour of Old San Juan from the waters point of view. The crew were very friendly, professional, full of information, and were very attentive to making sure all aboard were comfortable. The ship was stocked with sodas, water, rum drinks, and beer, which was perfect for the length of this tour (1. 5-2hrs). Despite its size, it is a substantial vessel in weight, so any rocking (even on high wind days) due to waves was not pronounced. The seating areas was covered by a shade screen, so even on hot days, it was quite comfortable. We will be doing this again in our next visit to Old San Juan.

Highly Recommend

stingerthree / Washington DC, District of Columbia

An incredible experience on a great vessel with the most amazing staff that knew all the ins and outs of old San Juan.

Sunset sail

PalmerDeMeern

Our sunset cruise on the Amazing Grace was indeed amazing! Everyone was friendly and the crew was made up of skilled sailors who were equally good hosts! The ship is a topsail schooner designed to resemble ships used in the late 1700s and early 1800s. The ship’s cement hull makes it heavier, slower, and more stable than similar ships made from wood. The sunset cruise has a much greater selection of beverages than the daytime cruises, and appetizers are served. We were each served a slider and fish cake, and then a member of the crew brought around a tray of cured meats (salami, prosciutto. etc.) & various cheeses. These went well with the adult beverages we were enjoying! Another benefit of the sunset cruise is the time of day – the cooler evening temperature was more comfortable than what we had experienced earlier in the day while touring Old San Juan. I HIGHLY recommend the sunset cruise on the Amazing Grace!

Amazing Grace Sunset Tour

GrandmaJune / Atlanta, Georgia

This tour was a great way to end our vacation in PR! The topsail schooner was clean and had comfortable seating, but no back rests.
The children all received plastic swords, handkerchief and eye patches upon arrival.
The staff is knowledgeable and personable! This tour has everything you need for an enjoyable cruise around San Juan. They serve drinks/food to you so you don’t have to move around the boat. (Yes, they have a bathroom onboard, but it’s down in the cabin area). Several choices in beverages and then as we headed back in we were offered tapas; such as beef or veggie slider, veggie or fish empanada, a tray of various meats/cheeses.
Of course the sunset was beautiful!!!

Enjoyable Sunset Sailing

Nayst / Charlotte, North Carolina

My fiancé and I went on a sunset cruise with both our families. The staff was friendly, the small children and adults both enjoyed their time, and the experience created a great memory with friends and family! I had high expectations, but it surpassed them!

Great experience

mbrown199

This really was a very nice experience. The crew was amazingly nice and friendly. The drinks and food were great and the scenery was beautiful. One of the sailors was ridiculously hot looking too. Lol. Anyways…..everything was clean and comfortable. Defenitely worth the price. They do a really great job making riders happy and they are informative.

Perfect and worth it

Lily6188 / Los Angeles, California

This was a fun evening sunset sail on a neat sailboat. The staff was funny, kind, and knowledgeable. We sailed very close to the 500 year old fort El Morro and they gave us a history of the surrounding area and Puerto Rico. They took pride in sailing and sharing the history of Puerto Rico. They served a variety of drinks and then on the way back from El Morro served sliders and empanadas. There was nice music too.

Fun Scenic Sail

F3684AOmelissal

We did the sunset sail with friends. Loved it. Met some nice people, nice drinks and appetizers. Great way to see the fort!! My favorite excursion!!

Must do!!

grimerj / Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

My husband and I truly enjoyed the sunset sail. The tour is suitable for anyone. There were other couples, families, and groups of friends. And everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.The crew was extremely polite, personable, and accommodating. They played music throughout and stopped to give a brief history lesson. While sailing back, you were able to watch the sunset. The drinks were unlimited. They had water, Coke products, and alcohol. My husband and I do not drink, and the bartender was nice enough to offer making any of the drinks without alcohol. They also served appetizers. It’s just a few tastings of local food, so don’t expect to be full afterwards. Which we anticipated, and had a nice dinner in old San Juan right after. Being on our honeymoon, it was a beautiful and peaceful tour and a nice way to start our evening.

Enjoyable Experience!

anmcghee / San Antonio, Texas

I was a little bit thrown off by the pirate ship like appearance! Boy was I wrong! This wonderful boat and fantastic crew take you around part of the island touring and educating from the beginning of times of PR to present day interests! The drinks, appetizers and music are amazing! Vegan options available as well! A definite must see and do while in Puerto Rico! Pier 1 near the cruise ship port, across from Domino’s Pizza. It’s worth every penny!!!

Such a blast!

555lyler / Los Angeles, California

The crew was excellent, made us feel welcome, like we were the only 2 people there. Will visit again and again!

Best experience in Old San Juan!

EVELYN M / San Juan, Puerto Rico

The view from the sunset cruise was great. The crew kept everyone comfortable with drinks, food, music, history flowing. Great sunset!

Sunset Cruise on the Amazing Grace

Maria B / Saint James, United States

My boyfriend and I were visiting for my birthday and went out. The crew was great, the drinks were good and it was 90 minutes of fun and history.

Awesome!!!

Remy T

Had a nice relaxing sail. Took many pictures of the seaside view of El Morrow and the remaining gate in the wall to enter Puerto Rico. Almost forgot to mention, strong and refreshing fruit punch on board.

Just Relax and Enjoy

Giantsfan4andmore / Albuquerque, New Mexico

Loved this cruise. It was our first excursion of our trip. We loved it. The crew was great. The views were awesome. Food super.

Amazing Ride

areinholtz85 / Sheboygan, Wisconsin

The San Juan sunset tour was an amazing experience. The staff is friendly and knowledgeable. The boat was clean and beautiful and OMG the San Juan Bay and city is breathtaking. It’s so romantic and perfect for amazing pictures and video of the sunset.

It was amazing!!

Glorspr

The sea breeze, the sunset, the crew, the captain, the scenery, the food and the drinks were all awesome! HIGHLY recommended as one of the best things to do in Old San Juan. Kristi’s mojito’s are the best you’ll find on the island!

Super Sunset Sailing!!!

CubaKev67 / Baton Rouge

Our family of 4 truly loved this sailing experience on our February winter vacation in San Juan! They answered all of our questions about local history and the vessel itself, and the crew showed great interest in our backgrounds, too! There was a newlywed couple on the ship that night and they were treated like royalty by the crew and passengers! It was totally a dream night with great food (ordered from a local restaurant in town) and a beautiful sunset. If you’re looking to escape the cruise ship crowds on land, this is the sailing expedition for you!

Met all expectations for this traveling history buff!

willsshaw / Amsterdam, The Netherlands

Under sail. Spanish Virgin Islands. Part I: vnarod — LiveJournal

The route started in Fajardo. It is a small town in the northeast of Puerto Rico. There is a large marina where we took a yacht. Usually people ride on the British Virgin Islands, less often on the US Virgin Islands, and very rarely on the Spanish Virgin Islands, although they are no worse, except that there are not so many islands. True, the marina said that the situation is gradually changing, large charter companies Moorings and Dream Yachts open offices in Puerto Rico, so, probably, in a couple of years the choice will be great. In the meantime, we got a nearly new 2014 41-foot Sun Odyssey. Great yacht, though it cost like almost new 🙂

A bit of geography: Spanish Virgin Islands is a huge Puerto Rico, middle Viecas, small Culebra and very tiny Culebrita. Well, and a dozen very tiny islands.

This time I didn’t organize the trip at all, I was just a captain. The entire organizational part was taken over by Sveta and Slava. The guys a couple of years ago bought a cozy hostel for 35 people in Viecas, I take this opportunity to advertise – it’s quiet, calm, very comfortable and inexpensive, 600 meters from the beach.
In Puerto Rico, for some reason, all the time they came across Russian-speakers who settled on the islands. In the marina, Boris, a man of about 60, prepared a yacht for us, a little tipsy. Later we were told that he was a well-known person, lives on some kind of wrecked boat, taught the entire marina how to use Russian obscenities, and even someone once saw him sober.

We left the marina and raised the sails. Finally! I’ve been waiting for this moment for so many months. I have been to a lot of places, experienced a lot of sensations, but nothing can compare with the moment when I raised the sail, turned off the engine and only you, the sea and the light “singing” of the guys. The entire first transition always takes place with one single thought: “how good!”

Before the start. It’s a wonderful feeling to know that you’re going to be fine for a whole week now.


First night in Viecas. All convenient bays are located on the south side of the island, but we go from the north, bypassing and entering from the south means extending the route by four hours, we won’t have time before dark.

Slava offered to hide from the waves behind Mosquito Pier, there is such a very long pier, 600 meters, it seems that they were going to build a bridge to Puerto Rico, then they changed their minds, but the pier remained. There, in splendid isolation, they dropped anchor, took some of the passengers on a dinghy to the shore and remained to enjoy the sea and silence. By the way, it turned out that the pier was not named there in vain, in those few minutes while the passengers were unloading, the mosquitoes managed to declare war on us, attack and win in triumph. Fortunately, they did not reach the yacht. For some reason, in other places there were no mosquitoes at all, it seems they all live in their “homeland”. In the evening, Sveta joined us, brought with her a pot of borscht and cabbage rolls.

Going into the sunset

In the morning we went to Culebra, a small island four hours away. Just moved away from the shore – pecked. Pulled out a large barracuda. Unfortunately, eating them in the Caribbean is very risky, you can get very poisoned. So the barracuda posed for a bit and went back to the ocean.

On Culebra I met Yuri Skripnikov, whose stories I recently read with great pleasure. Yuri is a man with a very rich biography, from a Soviet prison to life in Minnesota, from working as a simultaneous interpreter with important delegations to a hermitage on a tiny island. Eight years ago, he bought a small old boat, I don’t even know what to call it, whether it’s a boat or a longboat, he came to Culebra, and that’s how he lives here, occasionally going out to work or meet his wife. He wrote a series of stories about all this, I highly recommend reading: http://proza.ru/avtor/yskripnikov.

Here it is

Culebra means “snake” in Spanish. On the aisle casually salutes a typical Culebri

Culebra is famous for its beach. That is, there are a lot of beaches on Culebra, but the Discovery Channel named one of them, Flamenco Beach, the second most beautiful beach in the world (don’t ask where the first one is). It was inconvenient to go there on a yacht, we reached Tamarindo Beach from the opposite side of the narrow part of the island. Tamarindo turned out to be a small nudist beach. The truth is absolutely empty, it was possible to force only each other

From there you can walk to Flamenco Beach along a narrow path through the forest. Not far, about 15 minutes. We reached … and at the very end of the path we came across locals blocking the path. They said they would clear mine. The American Navy used to use the entire area, and part of Viecas and Culebro, as a firing range, and unexploded shells are still found here.

Okay, that’s all clear, but don’t go back. You just need to figure out how to return, there is no other path, the thickets are completely impassable, you can’t drive to Tamarindo Beach by car, there is no road at all. We remembered that all problems tend to resolve themselves and went to the beach. Flamenco Beach itself did not make any special impression. Well a nice beach, white sand, azure water. Definitely better than most Caribbean beaches. But with a yacht, where the whole sea is at your service, there is no comparison.

Flamenco Beach

We had to get out by taxi, we got to the town, called Slava, he came from the yacht to pick us up on a boat (half an hour one way). While we waited, we took pictures of the fish near the restaurant. They are large, but, they say, tasteless, so no one touches them.

Work schedule of local residents is quite busy

Milky there

Bought groceries in Milky

The rooster is completely off topic, but it was too beautiful

The only American passengers, Jason and Sheela, left us on Culebra. Shila began to feel sick and she decided not to continue. This is rather strange, because Jason has his own trimaran and they often go to sea. She said that the trimaran is much faster and therefore the pitching is not felt so much. Well, I guess everyone has their own take. It was a pity to lose Jason, he is a former racer, well versed in sails and helped a lot, despite the small detail – Jason had only one arm, his second was torn off during a motorcycle accident, right up to his shoulder. On the other hand, now it was possible not to strain and speak Russian.

Continued

Prose : Contemporary Fiction : CHAPTER TWELVE : Hunter Thompson : read online

CHAPTER TWELVE

The next morning I drove at full speed to Fajardo. I was aiming for a real estate business, but it took a bad turn and I had to quit. On the way back, I stopped at a roadside stall and bought a pineapple. At my request, the seller cut it into small pieces, and I ate them, making my way forward in a dense stream of cars. Calmly turning the steering wheel with one hand, for a change, I enjoyed the luxury of complete control over my own movement. The next weekend, I decided, I would definitely go to Ponce, on the south coast.

When I stopped at the office, Moberg was just getting out of his car.

“I hope you are armed,” I said. “Otherwise, when you appear at Papa Lotterman’s, it will completely blow the roof off.

Moberg laughed.

– We have come to a compromise. He made me sign a piece of paper saying that I would give him the car if one of the three of you left.

“Damn it,” I burst out. “Yemon is already talking about leaving.

He laughed again.

– But I don’t care. To hell with him, with Yemon. I’ll sign anything. Think it’s a big deal.

– Eh, Moberg, – I said, – you are crazy crazy.

“Yeah,” he agreed. – There is nowhere more abnormal.

Lotterman didn’t show up all day. Sala stated that he was circling the banks trying to get a loan to keep the newspaper running. It was just a rumor, but everyone in the office spoke as if the end had already come.

Around three, Yemon called and said he had been to Sanderson’s.

– He asked me to write some shitty articles, – he said. – And he promised that he would give thirty bucks for each. However, he did nothing ahead.

“Not bad already,” I replied. – Work with him well and demand something bigger – he has more money than the Lord God.

“Uh-huh,” Yemon muttered. – Perhaps. I would like to get one thing hundreds of five – then it would definitely be enough to set sail.

---

About an hour later, Sanderson called.

– Can you get to the airport by seven in the morning on Thursday? – he asked.

“Oh my God,” I breathed. – Maybe.

– We’ll have to drive up, – he said. – Expect to be busy most of the day. Zimburger wants to be back before dark.

“I’m not coming back,” I said. – I’m going to St. Thomas – to the carnival.

Sanderson laughed.

– I should have guessed that something like this would attract you. If I were you, I’d stay out of town. The local public is absolutely freaking out. The best parties are held on ships – all yachts also have their own carnival.

“I don’t make any plans,” I answered. “Just go there and have some nice, relaxing drinking.

After work, I stopped by Sala’s and picked up my clothes, and then I went to a new apartment. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to the hostess, so all I had to do was put a few things in the closet and put some beer in the fridge. Everything else was already there: sheets, towels, kitchen utensils – everything except food.

Now this was my house and I liked it. I had a good sleep, then drove to a small colmado and bought some eggs and bacon for breakfast.

The next morning I was cooking bacon when I suddenly remembered that I forgot to buy coffee. Then I went to the Condado Beach Hotel and had breakfast there. After buying a copy of The Times, I ate alone at a small table on the lawn. The institution was expensive, and the chances of meeting someone from the editorial staff there were negligible. Those newspapermen who didn’t show up at Al’s usually hung out at the Surf Restaurant, a crowded establishment right on the beach just off the edge of town.

---

I spent the whole day on the beach, trying to figure out whether the newspaper would close because of the strike or not. Before leaving, I told Schwartz that I would be gone all the next day; I supposedly felt like I was getting sick.

“Oh my God,” Schwartz muttered. “You guys are just like rats on a sinking ship. Sala spent the whole day in a dark room doing his hackwork, and I caught Wakderwitz when he called Washington via international. He shook his head. – In no case should you panic; why don’t you guys calm down?

“I am as calm as an Indian chief,” I replied. “I just need a day to straighten things out.

– All right, – Schwartz said wearily. “After all, it’s none of my business. Do as you know.

I drove up to Al’s and had lunch by myself, and then I went home and wrote the article that Sanderson wanted to send to The Times. The job was easy, and I mostly used the stuff he gave me—summer price cuts, more young people on holiday, various faraway places that would be nice to visit. The article took me about two hours, and when I finished I decided to take it to Sanderson’s right away and have a few drinks before going to bed. I had to get up at six the next morning, but it was still too early to sleep.

When I arrived at Sanderson’s, there was no one there, so I wandered into the kitchen and made myself a drink, and then went out onto the veranda and sat in one of the chairs. Turning on the fan, I placed a record of popular melodies on the phonograph.

I decided that when I get money, I will certainly look for a similar place. The apartment I just rented was only good for a start. There was no veranda, no garden, no beach, and I saw no reason why I shouldn’t have it all.

Sanderson arrived after I had already spent a good hour there. With him was a man who claimed to be the brother of the famous trumpeter. We made fresh drinks and then Sanderson read my article and found it excellent.

“I hope you don’t need money right now,” he said. “It might take a week or so. He spread his hands. – Yes, it won’t work out much anyway – say, fifty dollars.

“Good,” I replied, making myself more comfortable in my chair.

“I’ll see what else you can do,” Sanderson continued. “Right now we are overloaded. Check it out when you get back from St. Thomas.

“Nice job,” I said. – And then in the newspaper it’s just tobacco. You may very soon have to depend on this material.

Sanderson nodded.

– Tobacco – that’s for sure. However, how bad everything is, find out on Monday.

– And what should happen on Monday? I asked.

“Can’t tell yet,” Sanderson replied, and immediately smiled. “But even if you knew about it, nothing would change. Never mind – you won’t die of hunger.

The brother of the famous brother named Ted silently stared at the shore. Then he turned to Sanderson and asked in a bored voice:

– How about diving there?

“Not really,” Sanderson replied. “A hell of a lot already fished out.

We talked a little about scuba diving. Sanderson spoke authoritatively about decompression sickness and diving on the Palancar reef. Ted lived in the south of France for two years and once worked with Jacques Cousteau.

Shortly after midnight, I realized that I was getting drunk and got up.

– That’s it, I’ll go, – I said. “I have a meeting with Zimburger at dawn – it’s better to get some sleep.”

---

The next morning I got up a little late. There was no time for breakfast, so I hurriedly got dressed and grabbed an orange that I had swallowed on the way to the airport. Zimburger, with two men, waited outside a small hangar at the end of the runway. When he saw me get out of the car, he nodded. I hastened to join them.

“This is Kemp,” Zimburger introduced me to his companions. – He is our writer – by the way, he works for The New York Times. He grinned as he watched us shake hands.

One of the men turned out to be a restaurateur and the other an architect. It was supposed to be back at the end of the day, Zimburger told me, because Mr. Robbis, the restaurateur, had to go to a cocktail party.

We flew in a small Apache, whose pilot looked like a fugitive from the Flying Tigers.

He was silent all the way like a fish and seemed not to be aware of our presence. After an inexpressive thirty-minute flight above the clouds, we finally rushed nose down to Vieques and roared through the small cow pasture that served as an airport there. Confident that the plane was about to burst at the seams, I grabbed the seat, but after a few frantic jumps, we safely stopped.

We then climbed outside and Zimburger introduced us to a burly man named Martin, who looked like a professional shark hunter. He wore a neatly pressed khaki uniform and motorcycle goggles, and his hair was bleached almost white in the sun.

The general plan was to get some beer and sandwiches from Martin’s bar and then go to the other side of the island to look at the land. Martin took us to the town in his Volkswagen minibus, but the natives who were supposed to make us sandwiches have disappeared somewhere. Martin had to make the sandwiches himself; leaving us in an empty bar, he went to the kitchen in a rage.

The whole thing took about an hour. Zimburger had a serious conversation with a restaurateur, so I decided to go outside and look for coffee. The architect said he knew a drug store nearby.

He had been drinking continuously since five in the morning when Zimburger unexpectedly dragged him out of bed. The name of the architect was Lazard, and his tone was invariably mournful.

“That Zimburger is crazy,” he admitted to me. “Because of him, I’ve been spinning like a top for six months now.

“To hell with him,” I remarked. As long as he pays.

Lazard looked at me strangely.

– Is this the first time you work with him?

“Uh-huh,” I said. – And what? Doesn’t he pay?

The look of the architect was clearly dissatisfied.

– Not sure. It’s good to have free drinks with him and all that, but sometimes I have doubts.

I shrugged.

– Well, Adelante pays me. So I don’t have to deal with Zimburger – and that’s probably for the best.

Lazard nodded and we entered the diner. The Coca-Cola advertising strip on the wall was a menu. There were also red leatherette stools, a Formica-topped counter, and massive brown coffee mugs. The woman behind the counter was white, but with a touch of it and a heavy southern accent.

– Go ahead, come in, – she snapped, – What do you need, sidekick?

“Mother of God,” I thought, “sidekick.” What town are we in?

Lazard bought a copy of the News for twenty cents and immediately saw my column on the front page.

“I thought you worked for The New York Times,” he said, pointing to my name under the article about the strike on the shore.

“I just help them,” I explained. – Now they are very tight with the staff – so they asked me to help until they get more people.

Lazard nodded and smiled.

– This is life, buddy, you understand. What do you have there, traveling work?

“More or less,” I declined to answer.

“Great deal,” said the architect. – Go wherever you want… permanent salary… no worries…

“Damn it,” I interrupted him, “you’re doing pretty well too!” – I smiled. – Here we are sitting on this godforsaken island like two assholes, and we are paid for it.

“I’m not getting paid,” Lazard protested. “Yes, I get expenses, but if all this nonsense doesn’t work out, it will set me back two years. He nodded gravely. “I’m not that recognized and I can’t afford to associate my name with any hack – even if it’s not my fault. He finished his coffee and set the mug down on the counter. “You are beyond suspicion here,” he said. All you have to do is write a story. And on every mission I either sink or swim.

I felt sorry for Lazard. He obviously didn’t like the smell of what he’d gotten himself into, but he couldn’t afford to be too cautious. He was a little older than me, and such a business could be a glorious breakthrough for him – if it burned out. If it did not burn out, then it became a bad breakthrough; however, even then it would be no worse for him than it has been for me for the past five years. I was tempted to tell him about it, but I knew that it would not make him feel better. Then he, too, would begin to feel sorry for me, and I did not need it.

– Well, yes, – I said. – Everyone wants to drag more chestnuts out of the fire.

“That’s right,” Lazard said, standing up. – That is why I envy you – all your wheels are spinning.

I was beginning to believe him. The more he talked, the better I felt. On the way back to Martin’s Bar, I looked around the town. He was absolutely deserted. Wide streets, low buildings; most were built of concrete blocks and painted in pastel colors, but they all seemed equally empty.

We rounded the corner and started down the hill towards the coastline. On both sides of the street stunted palm trees stuck out, and at the foot of the hill a long pier jutted out into the bay. At its very end, four fishing boats were visible, bobbing in the surf rolling in from the Strait of Vieques.

The bar was called “Tsar-fish”. It had a tin roof and a bamboo fence at the entrance. A Volkswagen minibus was parked at the door. Inside, Simburger and Robbis were still talking vigorously. Martin packed beer and sandwiches in a cooler bag.

I asked him why the town seemed so deserted.

“No maneuvers this month,” he replied. “You should look at this island when five thousand marines land here, it’s just a madhouse.

I shook my head, remembering Sanderson’s story about two-thirds of the island being a Marine training ground. An odd place to build luxury apartments—unless the builders were going to fill those apartments with retired Marines as cannon fodder.

It was past ten when we finally made our way to the other side of the island. It was only four miles wide, and we had an excellent ride along narrow roads lined with spreading trees, past elevated sugarcane fields. In the end, we overcame the rise and looked around almost all of the Caribbean. The moment I took in the magnificent panorama, I realized that this was exactly the place I was looking for. We passed another sugarcane field and then a small grove of palms. Martin stopped the minibus and we went out to look at the seaside.

My first impulse was to immediately stick a pole in the sand and apply for this site. Cut off from the rest of the world by a ring of steep hills that faced the sea, the beach was white as salt. We stood on the very edge of a spacious bay, the clear water of which was a crystal turquoise color, which is obtained if the sand at the bottom is white. I have never seen such beauty. I wanted to rip off all my clothes and never wear them again.

Then I heard Zimburger’s voice – a vile chirp that brought me back to reality. I remembered that I had come here not to enjoy this place, but to write something that would allow me to sell it more profitably, Zimburger called me over and pointed to the hill where he planned to put the hotel.

Then he pointed to other hills where houses were supposed to be built. And so for almost an hour – we walked back and forth along the coast, staring at the swamps that were supposed to bloom with shopping centers, at the lonely green hills that were supposed to be lined with sewer pipes very soon, the purest white coast, where beach areas were already marked. I took notes until I felt I had had enough, and then I returned to the bus, where Martin was slowly sipping a beer.

“Progress is in full swing,” I muttered, shoving my hand into my bag.

Martin smiled.

– Yeah, a place here will be just what you need.

I opened a bottle of beer and quickly emptied it before reaching for another one. We talked a little, and Martin told me that he first came to Vieques as a Marine. It wasn’t hard to find a nice place, he said, so rather than serve all twenty years, he quit after ten and returned to Vieques to set up a bar here. Now, in addition to the King Fish, he also owned a laundry, five houses in Isabel Segunda, a concession for a single newspaper, and was currently setting up a car rental agency to cater for the expected influx of tourists. Among other things, he was also the “chief warden” of Zimburger’s property, which put him in a very advantageous position. Having said this, Martin smiled and sipped another beer.

– It can be said that this place turned up very handy for me. If I had stayed in the States, I would have become another former clubhead.

– Where are you from? I asked.

“From Norfolk,” he replied. But I don’t miss home too much. For the past six months, I have not been anywhere beyond San Juan. He paused, looking around the little green island that had been so kind to him. – Yes, I grew up in Norfolk, but I almost don’t remember it – everything was too long ago.

We had another beer when Zimburger, Robbis and Lazard returned from the beach. Lazard was sweating all over, and Robbis was clearly in a hurry.

Zimburger patted my shoulder in a friendly way.

– Well, – he said with a grin, – are you ready to write an article? Didn’t I tell you this place is real luxury?

“Of course,” I replied. Everything I need, I already have.

Faking disappointment, Simburger shook his head.

– Oh, you writers. You don’t have a good word for anything. He laughed nervously. “Damn hacks will never tell you what they’re doing.

All the way back to town, Simburger was talking about his plans for Vieques. Finally, Martin intervened and said that we were all going to have lunch at his club and that he would certainly send the guys for fresh lobsters.

“You mean to say lobsters,” Zimburger corrected.

Martin shrugged.

– Gosh, every time I say that, I’ll have to go into lengthy explanations – that’s why I just call them lobsters.

“It’s a Caribbean lobster,” Zimburger explained to Robbis. “Bigger and better than any other species, and it has no claws. He grinned. “Old God God must have been in a good mood when he made this place.

Robbis looked out the window, then turned and spoke to Martin.

“Lunch some other time,” he said coldly. “I have business in San Juan, it’s getting late.

“Damn me,” Simburger cut in. We have plenty of time to kill. It’s only an hour.

“I’m not in the habit of killing time,” Robbis said, turning back to the window.

From his tone, I concluded that there, on the shore, something had gone wrong. From the morning conversation, I understood that Robbis represented a whole chain of restaurants, the name of which I was supposed to know. Obviously, Zimburger counted on adding to this network a branch in Vieques.

I glanced at Lazard out of the corner of my eye. He seemed to be in an even worse mood than Robbis. This gave me a certain amount of pleasure that bordered on euphoria when Zimburger announced in a grim tone that we would immediately fly back to San Juan.

“I’ll probably stay here for the night,” I said. “Tomorrow I should be at St. Thomas. I want to go to that carnival. I looked at Martin. – When does the ferry leave?

We were already entering the town, and Martin quickly shifted into second gear, overcoming a steep climb.

“The ferry was yesterday,” he replied. “But we have a boat here. Hell, I can take you myself.

– That’s nice, – I rejoiced. “It makes no sense for me to go back to San Juan. You can drop me off at the hotel.

“Not right away,” Martin said with a grin. – Let’s eat first. It is impossible that all these … um … lobsters were wasted.

We took Simburger, Robbis and Lazard to the airport where the pilot was dozing peacefully in the shade of the plane. Zimburger immediately yelled at him, and he slowly stood up, still with a bored face. It seemed like this guy didn’t care at all. I suddenly wanted to nudge Lazard and tell him that we both missed our opportunity.

However, Lazard was obviously deep in thought, and I only briefly said goodbye to him. He nodded and got on the plane. Robbis followed, and then Zimburger, who sat down next to the stone-faced pilot. They all stared straight ahead as the plane plodded along the runway and skimmed over the trees in the direction of Puerto Rico.

---

I spent the next few hours at Martin’s bar. At lunch with us was a friend of his, another ex-Marine who owned a bar on a hill outside of town.

“Drink,” Martin said endlessly. – All at the expense of the institution. Here he smiled mischievously. “Or should I say, at Mr. Zimburger’s expense?” You are his guest, aren’t you?

– So, – I agreed and took another portion of rum on my chest.

Finally we got to the lobster. I immediately realized that this lobster had been thawed since morning, but Martin proudly declared that the guys had just caught him. Then I had a picture of Martin ordering his lobsters from Maine, then ripping off their claws and shoving the crustaceans into the freezer, where they lie until he feeds them to the Zimburger guests, and then neatly lists them on the expense sheet. One journalist – forty dollars, including labor costs for entertainment.

After I ate two lobsters, had an uncountable number of glasses, and was tired of talking to the limit, I got up to leave.

– In which direction is the hotel? I asked, bending over for my leather bag.

“Let’s go,” Martin said, heading for the door. “I’ll give you a lift to the Carmen. ”

I followed him to the minibus. We drove about three blocks up the hill to a low pink building with a sign called Hotel Carmen. The establishment was empty, and Martin told the landlady to give me the best room; it is also at his expense.

Before leaving, he said that he would take me to St. Thomas tomorrow morning on a speedboat.

– We’ll have to film around ten, – he added. “I have to meet a friend there at noon.

I knew he was lying, but it didn’t matter. Martin was like an auto mechanic who had just discovered an insurance company, or like a dupe who went crazy on the first calculation of expenses. It seemed to me that the day was not far off when he and Zimburger would expose each other.

The best room at the Carmen cost three dollars and had a balcony overlooking the town and the bay. I drank and ate to satiety, and therefore, as soon as I entered the room, I immediately threw myself on the bed and fell asleep.

A couple of hours later I was awakened by a knock on the door.

– Senor, – a voice was heard. – You are having lunch with the lord of the King-fish, no?

“I’m not hungry,” I said. “I just ate lunch.

“C,” a voice said, and I heard quick footsteps down the stairs. It was still daylight and I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I left the room hoping to get a bottle of rum and some ice. In the same building as the hotel, there was a kind of food warehouse full of alcohol. A grinning Puerto Rican sold me a bottle of rum for a dollar and a pack of ice for two dollars. I paid and went back to my room.

After mixing myself a drink, I went out to sit on the balcony. The town still seemed deserted. Far on the horizon was the neighboring island of Culebra, and from somewhere on the other side came the booming peals of explosions. I remembered Sanderson’s words about Culebra being a bombing range for the United States Navy. At one time it was a magical place – but not now.

---

I had been sitting on the balcony for twenty minutes when a negro walked down the street with a small gray horse. The clatter of hooves echoed through the town like pistol shots. I watched the couple rattle down the street and disappear over the crest of a small hill. The clatter continued for a long time after they were out of sight.

Then I heard another sound, the muffled rhythm of a noise band. It was already getting dark, and I could not understand from which direction the music was coming. The sound was quiet, attractive, and I sat half-drunk on the balcony and listened to it, feeling at peace with the world and with myself, while the hills behind me shimmered scarlet and gold in the last, slanting rays of the sun.

Then night fell. Few lights came on in the town. The music came with long breaks, as if between choruses someone was explaining something to the musicians, and then they started again. There were voices in the street below, and from time to time I heard the clatter of another horse’s hooves. Isabelle Segunda seemed more active at night than during the long, hot day.

Staying in a town like this makes one feel like Humphrey Bogart: you arrive in a bouncy plane and for some reason get a private room with a balcony overlooking the town and the bay; then you sit there and drink until something happens. I felt a monstrous distance between myself and everything that is real. Here I am on the island of Vieques, a place so insignificant that I didn’t even know it existed until they told me to come here, sitting here, brought here by one psycho, and waiting for another psycho to take me away from here.

It was the very end of April. I knew it was getting warmer in New York, that it was humid in London, that it was hot in Rome, and I was stuck in Vieques, where it was always hot and where New York, London and Rome were just names on the map.

Then I thought about the Marines – “no maneuvers this month” – and I remembered why I was here. Zimburger needs a brochure…investor oriented…your job is to sell this place…don’t be late or he’ll.