When we had done some initial planning for our trip, one of the cities that seemed alluring was Arecibo, mainly because we wanted to visit the Arecibo Observatory. Sadly, the telescope collapsed in December 2020, and the grounds were closed to the public while we were there. However, the observatory recently reopened in March 2022 after we had left Puerto Rico, and while scientists are exploring a replacement telescope, there don’t seem to be any firm commitments for a new one any time soon.
So we instead explored possibly visiting the city of Arecibo itself, but—in all honesty—it just didn’t seem very interesting. Our Foder’s book only had two pages written about the town. However, we still wanted to explore the northern coast and spend some time lazily lounging on a beach, so we decided to visit Cueva del Indio, the Siete Arcos, and a beach called Mar Chiquita.
Our drive to the north continued to provide us with the stunning views of the Puerto Rican mountainscape we had by this point become accustomed to. Our route also took us past Dos Bocas Lake—Two Mouths Lake—and we got to drive over the dam that created the lake when the dam was built from 1937 to 1942, a New Deal project. The dam allows a single lane of vehicles, but we didn’t have troubles passing through on account of the nonexistent traffic.
We did take a moment to get out of the car when we reached the western end of the dam to enjoy gorgeous views of the lake and to get a better glimpse of the dam itself. There was also a parked car with three men in it who—if I’m remembering correctly—were associated with the power plant. They seemed a little pleased (if not surprised) that three gringos were exploring this part of the island, as they asked us with a smile in flawless English, “Enjoying the view?” Indeed we were, not only the views of the lake and the dam, but also some nearby graffiti art inspired by Taíno petroglyphs and signed with the handle, @arteenlibertadpr.
Eventually we reached Cueva del Indio—Cave of the Indians—so named for the Taíno petroglyphs carved into the cave walls (maybe they should change the name to Cueva del Taíno), and the petroglyphs were similar to the ones we saw in the graffiti art nearby Dos Bocas and also on día seis at Piedra Escrita. However, reaching the petroglyphs involved shimmying through a tiny opening in the rockface, and we elected not to do that on account of how busy it was. Regardless, you can still view the cave from above (just not the petroglyphs very clearly), admiring the somewhat substantial drop to the cave floor from the rocky surface above.
The nearby Siete Arcos—Seven Arches—is perhaps the reason to visit this area of the northern coast, as the giant, limestone arches that dominate the cliff face along with the stunning views of the Atlantic from the spectacular heights are sure to delight your senses. I’m certain when I say that this whole section of the shoreline provided us with some of the most memorable views of the ocean during our entire time in Puerto Rico—angry waves haphazardly and with reckless abandon crashing against the jagged shoreline, unbelievably gorgeous limestone arches extending several meters from sea level to the pinnacle of the cliff face, the cerulean and aquamarine hues of the exquisite Atlantic reaching endlessly towards the horizon.
As I’ve mentioned, the whole of this part of the coastline is rocky and craggy, sometimes not unlike a location for an alien world in Doctor Who, so make sure to wear proper hiking gear. Also make sure to watch where you step, as dotted throughout the landscape are holes just big enough for a human foot to fit (or even a small child) that lead nowhere else except to the turbulent ocean below, a drop of several meters that I wouldn’t recommend unless you have a death wish to plummet to a watery grave.
All things considered, I highly recommend a trip to Cueva del Indio y Siete Arcos, as the views are unforgettable and the oceanscape impossibly beautiful. It also only costs $5 per person to enter. “Quiero tres boletos adultos,” I said when we arrived, to which the man on staff responded, “Quince dólares,” and he quickly added in English, “Did you understand?” And I responded with a smile, “Of course I did!” There were some other gringos in line behind us, however, and he badgered them, “I bet these guys didn’t understand!” It was a friendly little exchange, and I felt a little proud of myself and thankful for all the work I did to learn some Spanish ahead of our trip here.
Our next step on our tour of the north was to a beach called Mar Chiquita, which translates to Little Sea, so named because the beach features a natural, half-moon shaped pool protected by two limestone outcroppings with a gap in the middle that allows the waters of the energetic Atlantic to rush in. There isn’t much in the way of shade, however, but you can rent chairs and umbrellas until 5pm.
It had been over two decades since I last swam in the ocean (and even then it wasn’t the ocean at all but the Gulf of Mexico), and it was such a delight enjoying the pleasingly warm and invitingly clear waters as they rose gently yet dramatically up and down with views through the water to the very bottom, unobscured by slimy muck that pagues yucky lakes in Minnesota. (It’s official: I’m never swimming in a lake ever again.) Amy and I had even foolheartedly pushed ourselves to swim all the way to the limestone outcroppings, but by the time we reached the craggy rocks, I soon realized how dangerous it was as the waves crashed through the gap in the rocks (I scraped my outer thigh pretty impressively), so we quickly swam back.
We also got to spend some time lounging on the beach, enjoying a picnic with pre-mixed bebidas de ron, watching other people as they, too, enjoyed the water and the sun. Nearby there was un grupo de tres hombres guapos en la playa who also lazily soaked up the sun, unapologetically exchanging lovely, gentle caresses of each other’s hands, and I couldn’t help but feel an intense desire to join them.
As 5pm rolled around, everyone started to pack up, I think partly because it also started to rain ever so gently. The three Minnesotan gringos, however, couldn’t have been bothered in the slightest, as the rain felt warm, it wasn’t snowing, the sun was still out, and the ocean was still there for us to enjoy. One person did tell us that we could stay, just not past dark.
Eventually it was time to pack up, and that moment came much too soon. We did enjoy one last lovely, lovely drive for the day along the coast, taking in the gorgeous Puerto Rican sunset, an oil painting of vibrant reds and oranges, the sky a blaze of fiery beauty, a moment that Van Gogh surely would have liked to have captured in thick, swirling brush strokes.
Although our time with the ocean concluded on this day, we had another ocean excursion planned for día ocho, a trip to the southwestern coast to snorkel above a reef…
Spanish lesson for the day:
- The weather on Puerto Rico is positively magical and never uncomfortable, especially if you’re from Minnesota. If it does dip to an uncomfortable 60 degrees, however, you’d say, “Hace frio,” which literally translates as, “It makes cold.” If it’s hot, you’d say, “Hace calor.” If you are physically cold, you’d say, “Tengo frio,” which literally translates as, “I have cold.” If you’re hot, you’d say, “Tengo calor.” Lastly, if it does happen to rain, all you need to say is, “Llueve,” or “It’s raining.”
- The word for ticket is boleto. “Quiero tres boletos adultos,” is, “I want three adult tickets.”
- I always thought it was strange that English uses eleven and twelve instead of oneteen and twoteen. Spanish takes it a bit further all the way to fifteen: once, doce, trece, catorce, quince before finally settling on dieciseis, diecisiete, etc.
Travel tips, day seven:
- Fans of the Pirates of the Caribbean films may especially love a visit to Cueva del Indio y Siete Arcos, as they filmed on location there.
- We mostly thus far had been shopping for groceries at a local chain called Econo, but we had discovered another chain called Pueblo, and it seemed ever so slightly more fancy.
- Also along the northern coast, you might—as we did—catch a glimpse of La Estatua de Colón, an austere and forbidding 360 foot bronze statue marking the 500th anniversary of Columbus’s invasion of the Caribbean.
*These photos by Amy Danielson. All other by me.