When my then-boyfriend now-husband visited me in Costa Rica, back in 1987, we went on the popular Calypso cruise to isla Tortuga. A catamaran took passengers from Puntarenas to this island, about 12 miles out to sea. Most beaches in the Pacific coast consist of dark, volcanic sand but Tortuga Island is the exception: A Caribbean-like jewel in the middle of the Pacific, with a white-sand beach and crystal clear turquoise waters. The crew brought food and we sat around a rustic long picnic table under the many palm trees of this enchanted, and desolate, island. A band, with a marimba, bongos and guitar, sang as we ate lunch. The two songs I remember were “La Bamba” and a Spanish version of the theme song of Gilligan’s Island. Indeed, we were in Gilligan’s island, away from civilization, in paradise.

 

Fast forward 22 years. Calypso Tours still takes visitors to isla Tortuga. But they’re not the only ones. Dozens of tour boats take passengers there, and dozens of private boats and yachts also spend the day in this island that currently has jet ski rentals, public restrooms, and cellphone reception. The rustic wooden picnic tables are still there, but now there’s a large souvenir shop behind them and in front, countless long chairs and umbrellas for rental ($10 for two chairs with one umbrella). At noon, the small band of musicians continue to play Caribbean music to the delight of its tour-goers—and everyone else sharing the island—but the song of the five tourists, stranded on Gilligan’s Isle, maybe forevermore, sounds silly now. They could be easily rescued by any one of the twenty boats, like that big ship carrying a large group of Christian Revivalists, whose organizer is speaking over a loud speaker, making sure everyone can hear him on the small, (alas!) crowded island.