A whole world of coral right next door to Cartagena de Indias, one of the most beautiful colonial cities in the Americas, attracts travelers with the beauty of its heavenly islands and its past rich in stories of gold and pirates.
A warm, humid breeze heavy with the scent of seaweed lays siege to the heroic walled city, drenching it in a thick salty atmosphere. Between the embrasures that house ancient, rust covered canons, lovers make their own romantic arrangements as they turn this great fortress into a refuge for love.
Inside the old city, the streets awaken to the sound of wagon wheels, beneath the flower decked wooden balconies evocative of the fine living of olden times. Simply by crossing the fortified walls, passing through the triple arches of the Clock Gateway, all the magic of the centuries comes alive in every street. My imagination is crowded with the ghosts of the colonial residents of Cartagena.
Thus the slave traders from Guinea return, offering their human wares in the Plaza de los Coches; behind the defensive walls, beautiful Creole women dressed in starched lace take the air on their balconies while they wait for the arrival of the Royal Galleon Fleet at Pegasus Wharf, from where today the boat will take me to the National Marine Park of the Rosary Islands; a citadel for the pirates and privateers that laid siege to the city.
During the 16th Century, Cartagena de Indias, the “Spanish pearl” was the main port and fortress of the New World. Called by its residents the “stone playpen”, its 11 km of fortifications bear witness to its importance. These many tons of fossilized coral blocks, dug from quarries on dry land that millions of years before had been on the sea bed, were used to construct defenses against the guns of the invaders.
And there were good reasons for such a fierce defensive display; a significant proportion of the Inca gold, and the silver from the mines of Potosí captured by the Spanish conquistadors, arrived at Cartagena de Indias, by way of the Camino de las Cruces and the Customs Post at Portobello in Panamá, and was deposited in the Fortress of San Felipe de Cartagena to await shipment to Spain. This is why pirates of the caliber of Francis Drake, Martin Cote, Robert Baal and other legendary bandits looked for ways to overcome the canons and kilometers of walls that protected the city.
Today, centuries later, the ever present damp melts into the ancient coral walls. It is so dense that it feels as if the whole ocean will rise up from its coral foundations and imaginary shoals of silvery fish will defy reason, flying through the old belfries of the Cathedral all the way to the Bay of Souls, the departure point for a voyage along miles of luxurious coastline to the islands of golden sand set in an emerald sea, the perfect destination for anyone looking to enjoy underwater sports, marine wildlife or complete relaxation.
It is 9am and Pegasus Wharf is alive with activity. There are no more lines of slaves waiting to be sold; they have been replaced by groups of all ages, races and colors buying tickets for the boat to the Rosary Islands.
A brown skinned woman prepares succulent, fragrant salads of exotic fruits; beautiful sales girls selling everything from fried pastries and sandals to sunglasses and beer; half a dozen well equipped launches welcome the tourists aboard and set out for the open sea.
As I left the coastline, Cartagena’s noble profile featuring the cupola of San Pedro de Claver, sank below the horizon. It is truly a memorable sight. We were then greeted by a succession of beaches covered with modern buildings, followed by mangroves and river communities, leading to the island of Tierra Bomba. Then on to the fortress of San Fernando and the battery of San José, both of which stand guard over Boca Chica, the point of entry from the open sea to the great bay of Cartagena. Another half an hour riding the Caribbean swells brings us to the archipelago of the Rosary Islands.
I am in a fantasy cove on a tiny coral island known as Pirate Island, 45 km to the southwest of Cartagena Bay, and about one hour away by launch. Together with thirty other inhabited islands, this island forms part of an idyllic marine habitat covering the area of some 31,000 football pitches.
As I walked on the white sandy beach of Pirate Island, I came across a small bay with crystal clear water where two Afro Antillean fishermen were collecting fish they had caught in their nets during the night. Peering through the foliage I saw one of them rather shakily singing the words of a song by Colombian Juan Luis Vives:
Carito me habla en inglés
Que me dice yo no se
Carito me habla en inglés
Que bonito se le ve…
Carito speaks to me in English
I don’t know what he is saying
Carito speaks to me in English
How nice he looks...
While I listen to this out of tune and not very convincing Carlos Vives double, I can make out in the distance a marine turtle that, immune to the discordant influences of the singing fisherman, has managed to escape the nets and takes a gulp of air before diving back into the blue depths. Close to where I spotted this great traveler of the seas, another traditional fishing boat turns its prow in my direction. The fishermen aboard show me well fed lobsters and huge crabs. “These would make a good meal, don’t miss out” they call out. I am tempted but prefer not to contribute to the depletion of the marine species that are disappearing from the seas.
Fernando, a young man from Cartagena who offered to be my snorkeling guide, approved of my choice. “Here we are trying to educate both locals and visitors about conservation of the coral reefs, which are already suffering from climate change and other problems; we have almost 50 different kinds of corals and although this is hard to believe, in recent years more than 80 percent of them have died. As a result, a number of us decided to teach the people about these things so that the species can survive. You will see the results of this in our oceanarium,” he concluded.
Back at the pier, the lobsters and crab now have new owners, a couple of Italian pleasure seekers, arguing about what seasonings to use on these crustaceans. A man approaches me, loaded down and covered in necklaces for sale, and introduces himself, “My name is Jesús, like the one who died on the cross, buy one of my coral necklaces my friend, and don’t worry, I have some very nice ones for men as well”. After my firm refusals, in the face of his increasingly insistent requests, Jesús understands that I am not going to change my Franciscan ways. However, unwilling to give up even the slightest chance of getting something out of the encounter, he poses proudly and says, “why not take a photo to promote my business”. So I did. Jesús, just like many of the islanders, has had to change his livelihood to selling handicrafts, to make up for the lack of fish in the sea.
But it is on the island of San Agustín that I meet the true “heroes of the Rosaries”. They are the biologists and environmental educators who welcome hundreds of tourists every day into their pristine oceanarium, drawn by the spectacle of dolphins, sharks, turtles and hundreds of tropical fish.
At the pier, around half a dozen boats have brought at least two hundred visitors who are walking in small groups around the wooden walkway towards the marine enclosures. Guides are waiting to give us a lively introduction to the importance of conserving many of the marine species that they look after here.
Once again the inevitable sellers are on the lookout for customers: “eat, try the lobster ceviche, fresh water to drink, buy, buy cakes, cigars, postcards …”. I escape to the interior of the oceanarium. I move from one enclosure to the next, learning about the prodigious appetite of the mackerel and dogfish, the gracefulness of the manta rays, the tenacity of the turtles, the strength of the grouper; but the main attraction is the area where the dolphins and cat sharks are waiting for us.
Rosy, a female dolphin amazes visitors as she flies through the air. “They are intelligent, pure energy – explained her trainer – watch her now as she jumps with her partner – give them a clap to encourage them”.
While we are being thrilled by their leaps and pirouettes, we receive a master class from the young trainer: they are toothed mammals with aerodynamic bodies, Olympic athletes of the seas; they reach a length of almost four meters, weighing up to 300 kilos; they are very sociable, there are cases of lifelong friendships between individuals; they can communicate and explore their environment using a complex system of biological sonar, which allows them to develop a sort of map of the deep so they can locate potential prey, finding their way around and avoiding danger.
As well as the dolphins, an enclosure with performing cat sharks leaves us open mouthed. A man with a bucket of fish appeared. – “Now you are going to see something really amazing– echoed the trainer’s voice over the loudspeaker–, they were all born here and are quite tame” - the trainer explained.
The man called the sharks together and they got up onto a floating stage. Immediately, while he was talking to us about their habits and the need for a worldwide ban on killing them, he began to call them by name and feed them, to the astonishment of the watching visitors.
Once again we receive an open air lesson – “Today scientists estimate that each year more than 150 million sharks are killed around the world” – we learn. - With the death of the sharks the equilibrium of the food chain is completely upset, increasing the danger of plagues and the spread of diseases that affect many marine species.
The visit is coming to its end. With these thoughts in mind I say goodbye to this Colombian model that is well worth replicating, which blends entertainment with education. We sail back at full throttle though the islands. Coconut palms and flowering shrubs compete for attention with newly built summer houses and different kinds of hotels, different styles and standards that have been encroaching on nature, creating a quaint landscape.
I leave behind a precious marine jewel that deserves to be protected. The Colombian Caribbean takes on an earthy yellow color as it welcomes the sensual tropical nightfall. So the sun sets over the archipelago and on the most beautiful colonial city of the New World, the final destination for my journey from an amazing world of coral. |
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