Isla Isabel

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By Lowell McCulley | February 1, 2026 | Category Sailing 2026

Friday, January 30

We arrived around 9 a.m after an overnight sail from Dog Island. We’re heading for the south side of Isla Isabel. The anchorage here is small, with scattered patches of sand that offer good holding. Two boats were already anchored in the prime spots, but after a quick hail we learned one was preparing to leave, so we waited. The water is 15–20 feet deep and clear enough to see the sandy bottom. Once space opened, we dropped anchor near the remaining boat, and Chris dove to check the set—ensuring a solid hold. With that done, it was time to relax after the long passage.

Isla Isabel is a small volcanic island, alive with thousands of frigatebirds and blue-footed, red-footed, and brown boobies. On shore, there’s a rustic fish camp and a modest tourist operation offering sightseeing and diving. The island is a designated national park, crisscrossed with hiking trails marked on the park map.

The island’s beauty was irresistible, so Chris organized a beach landing and hike to the east shore. We landed at the fish camp, busy with pescadores and scuba divers, we then followed a steep trail up stone steps shaded by dense foliage. Frigatebirds nested everywhere above us—an incredible sight. Along the way we passed a volcanic pool before reaching the east shore, where boobies nested directly on the trail. They squeaked at us but didn’t budge, clearly accustomed to human visitors. The shoreline was alive with nesting birds, making the hike unforgettable—except for one misstep. Foolishly, we wore flip-flops, and I had a blowout. Limping back to the beach was less than graceful, but the experience was worth it.

Back aboard, humpback whales breached just outside the anchorage, a breathtaking finale to the day. With steady 10+ knot winds, the evening was comfortable. We capped it off with dinner and a Steven Wilson Jr. documentary before turning in.

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Saturday, January 31

Our plan for the morning was a second hike—this time up the steep trail to the lighthouse perched on the southern knoll. Later, we’d set sail for San Blas, anchoring at Ensenada de Matanchen.

The trail wound past old buildings now repurposed for the tourist operation. Chris was happy to see a lively little community thriving on this special island. The climb was exactly as advertised: straight up, demanding a few pauses to catch our breath. At the top, the lighthouse rewarded us with a phenomenal 360-degree view. This ridge is prime nesting territory for boobies, and they soared everywhere around us, unbothered by our presence. The climb was tough, but absolutely worth it.

By 9 a.m. we were back aboard, hauling anchor and setting course for San Blas. Winds were light, and long-period 8-foot rollers stretched across the sea—conditions that meant we’d be motoring most of the way.

Until the next update…