11th December 2024

The Nieuw Statendam was due to berth at Amber Cove at 8 a.m., but by the time we’d finished breakfast on Deck 9, she was already securely moored at the pier, and passengers were being informed that they could disembark. We had made no plans for the day, but I downloaded Google Maps for the area and decided on a walk to Magdalena’s Rock, which would take us past a beach and a few interesting man-made landmarks along the way.

The forecast predicted a hot day, and we could already feel the rising heat as we left the ship at 8 a.m. A line of cycle rickshaws was stationed near the gangplank, their drivers calling out offers to whisk us to the port entrance, but we ignored them and walked the 200 metres to dry land and the plaza. The area was lined with shops and stalls promoting tourist excursions. Passengers with pre-booked tours were already queuing patiently for their coaches, while others were negotiating with taxi drivers for more independent outings.

We made our way slowly through the heat to a large, colourful “Amber Cove” sign on a promontory opposite the ship. After taking a few photos and browsing some nearby tourist stalls, we continued towards the port exit, ignoring the persistent calls of taxi drivers vying for business. Spotting what we thought was a shortcut to the beach, we were swiftly whistled at by port security and told that the route was off-limits; we’d need to leave the port through the main gate first.

Just outside the gate, another row of hopeful taxis was lined up along the edge of a busy highway. We turned left and followed a footpath for about 500 metres before taking another left down a side road, passing the entrance to the Playabachata Hotel. Across the road, a small mangrove swamp was teeming with life. The water shimmered with fish and turtles, while the trees were crowded with white egrets perched in nests, packed tightly together like sardines in a tin. Others flitted from branch to branch, occasionally ruffling feathers and sparking brief squabbles. We paused to take a few photos before continuing on our way.

A little further on, we came across a small cluster of bars and restaurants. A friendly local man gently tried to coax us into visiting his shop and bar. As he held our attention, he fed the turtles bits of bread and shared stories about the area. We lingered for a while on the deck of his bar, watching the wildlife at such close range it felt almost surreal. The creatures, entirely unbothered by our presence, went about their lives as though we weren’t there. Promising to return later for a beer, we continued towards the beach.

The ship was only a short distance away, and the “Amber Cove” sign we’d photographed earlier was even closer. We were glad we hadn’t taken a taxi, as we would have missed the fascinating wildlife in the mangroves.

The beach itself was peaceful, with no more than half a dozen tourists lounging in the shade on free sunbeds scattered across the sand. We attempted to climb a set of steps at the far end of the beach but were politely waved away by hotel security stationed on the small cliff above. Instead, we paddled in the cool shallows and then relaxed on a sunbed, enjoying the stillness beneath the shade of the fir trees. The calm atmosphere, paired with the beach’s proximity to the cruise ship, made the lack of visitors all the more surprising.

Eventually, we decided that Magdalena’s Rock could wait for another day. The heat had become intense, and we were reluctant to leave the shade or forgo the occasional refreshing paddle. When thirst finally got the better of us, we returned to our newfound friend’s bar and ordered a cerveza grande, Presidente. Seated once again on the platform, we watched the wildlife’s antics, which brought back fond memories of our recent trip to the Galápagos, where the creatures had been similarly unfazed by human presence.

While I busied myself taking more photos, Sue slipped into the shop, re-emerging empty-handed. Later, after a second foray, she returned with two trinkets and asked which I preferred. Unable to decide, she bought both, to the owner’s obvious delight.

We retraced our steps to the ship, passing the line of taxis once more, this time without any attempts to lure us in. Back at the port, we browsed a few of the shops before finally reboarding the ship to cool off and unwind.

After lunch, we unanimously agreed to veto anything even vaguely strenuous for the rest of the afternoon. Sue, ever the adventurer, hailed a cycle rickshaw to the port shops, cheerfully parting with a few dollars. Meanwhile, I retreated to our cabin, cranked the air conditioning up to “Antarctic Blast”, and indulged in a thoroughly satisfying nap.

At 4:30 p.m., we bid farewell to Amber Cove as the ship glided out to sea. From the top deck, we watched the island gradually recede into the distance until all that remained was just a small dot on the horizon.