It was another relaxing morning at the Aruba Beach Chalets. (True story: I joked about not telling anyone where we stayed, because it's such a perfect spot and I sort of want to help keep it secret...)
After breakfast, we had some administrative tasks to handle. We made some Covid test appointments for tomorrow, decided on dinner plans for tonight, made a quick trip to the nearby S-Chow Supermarket, and packed a picnic lunch for the beach.
On Tuesday night, I did some light searching for info on Aruba snorkeling spots, and turned up this interesting suggestion/map about Mangel Halto. Today, we decided to return to this beach and try the one-way float/swim from Puerto Chiquito (AKA Hole in the Wall).
Before committing, we stopped at Puerto Chiquito to make sure this wasn't an insane idea. It seemed much like the area in front of our condo (I mean... "chalet"), which makes sense as we were only about 1.5 miles up the coast.
Satisfied that this plan was feasible, we continued to Mangel Halto, set up in the shade of the mangroves near the water, then had a brief swim and a picnic lunch.
While we were sitting around, Coco from Aruba Bob's walked by with some snorkel customers; he was excited to see us. I chased after him and asked if he thought it was too rough to do the one-way float trip. His assessment was that it would be okay.
Confirmation bias achieved, we walked the 1/4 of a mile (ish) back to the other beach that we had scoped out earlier, with nothing but snorkel gear.
It took us a few minutes to figure out where to enter the water, but we were able to get to the ocean side of the reef without too much trouble.
The surf was a bit rough, which made the visibility rather lacking for the first part of the trip. On the other hand, this also made the current faster, so it quickly carried us past this part (which was good, because being carried among huge coral structures by a current, in low visibility, was slightly adrenaline-inducing).
One of the first things we saw through the murky water, up closer than I would have preferred, was a bright green moray eel. I was not ready with the camera, though.
Here, you can see that Sabrina wasn't exactly thrilled to be tossed around by the waves.
There were several large schools of multiple kinds of fish. I'm not sure what any of them were, exactly, but there's a fish identification guide available if you're interested.
I think this is staghorn coral, which must've once been plentiful in this reef, because the protected bay area is littered with bleached-white/dead pieces of it.
This stuff might be fire coral? Or fire blade coral? I'm not sure.
We had a few exciting moments where we got into shallower areas, and had waves crash over us, sending us hurtling toward the reef. We had to divert back out into deeper areas, a few times, to steer around large, impassable coral colonies.
I think these are elkhorn coral, some of which must've been 6 to 8 feet tall.
As you can see in the route map, above, we had to take a wide path around the reef to get back into the protected bay area. It's a bit disorienting, out on the water, to try to find the reef cut where it's easy/safe to pass through. Thankfully, there's a channel marker buoy, and Matt and I had been out there a few days ago.
It was still a decent workout to fight the current in the bay, to get over to the gap in the mangroves that led back to our beach accoutrements.
All week, we've been watching pelicans fishing in the bay in front of the condo. This one was floating around in the bay, seemingly not concerned about nearby swimmers.
After our workout, we relaxed on the beach for awhile. Other than a handful of other tourists and one or two tour groups walking through while taking photos, the place was empty.
Having rejuvenated and rehydrated, Matt and I convinced our better halves to take one last snorkel expedition out to the channel cut, but on the protected side of the reef this time.
In the shallow water, the large fish don't seem as skittish for some reason. Or maybe they're just used to snorkelers.
Some of the lighter-colored fish are difficult to spot, until a small wave rolls through and they all drift a few feet with you.
The broken bits of dead coral are mostly the staghorn corals, I believe. There are acres and acres of the stuff, covering much of the bay floor.
We had just enough time to relax and dry off again, back on shore, before heading back to the chalet to unload and clean up for dinner.
Other than flying into the airport, we really hadn't spent any time in Oranjestad; it was an intentional decision, when we booked accommodations in the Savaneta area, to be outside the tourist-heavy area.
Tonight, though, we headed into the capital to have a fancy dinner at a Peruvian restaurant that Diet found (Lima Bistro). It was adjacent to the cruise terminal, and the main street was lined with expensive clothing and jewelry stores, casinos, and resort hotels.
Locals in the Savaneta and San Nicolas areas seemed equal parts surprised and impressed that we were staying on their side of the island. One woman talked about "east of the bridge" vs "west of the bridge" (referring to the Spanish Lagoon Bridge, I believe) being completely different places/cultures/food/people. The context was something about doubting that we'd had "real" moby, if it was west of the bridge, if I recall correctly.
After driving through a bit of downtown Oranjestad, it makes more sense; the retail frenzy of downtown doesn't resemble anything else we'd experienced in the last 4 or 5 days.
The restaurant was located on more of a waterfront/boardwalk area, rather than a road, so Google had a bit of trouble directing us to it.
We eventually located the correct entrance, though, and were treated to a view of the marina just before sunset.
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