As the sun descends behind the Sierra de la Giganta mountains, I join the end-of-day procession to Loreto Bay National Park, a protected marine area in the Sea of Cortez. Fisherfolk, families, and out-of-towners stroll the Malecón, a mile-long esplanade that traces the water, watching as the sea turns the same sherbet hues as the evening sky. Seabirds dive-bomb for their dinner, and when a gray whale spouts remarkably close to shore, I hear myself gasp.
It encircles eight square miles of lagoon, forming a thin border between sky and ocean. Migratory birds make it their landing strip; green turtles use it as a nesting ground, plowing tracks through sand as powdery as snow. Though Astove's sand flats are as smooth as mother-of-pearl, its reefs are treacherous. Sharp blades of fossilized coral, or champignon, can shred feet and destroy vessels.
The Altamaha River, a 137-mile gem nicknamed Georgia's 'Little Amazon,' offers paddlers an experience through diverse ecosystems and is home to numerous endangered species.
Bocas del Toro isn't your average Caribbean escape. It's where the rainforest spills into the sea, Afro-Caribbean rhythms meet Indigenous wisdom, and even luxury feels low-key.
The initiative is part of Okaloosa County's efforts to boost eco-tourism and marine biodiversity; the SS United States will join more than 500 artificial reefs in the area.
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