Windsurfing Aruba

In January of 1996, I traveled to Aruba with a windsurfing buddy for what turned out to be one of the most single-minded trips I’ve ever taken. For a full week, our days followed the same rhythm: wake up, head straight to the beach, rig the sails, and ride the wind until our arms and shoulders begged for a break. Then, after catching our breath, we’d go right back out again.

Aruba is famous among windsurfers for its steady trade winds, shallow turquoise lagoons, and warm water, and we experienced all of that in spades. Most of our time was spent at Hadicurari Beach—better known as Fisherman’s Huts—where the flat water made for fast runs and endless practice. The conditions were so consistent that every day felt like a gift designed for windsurfing, and we weren’t about to waste a minute.

Unlike other trips where I try to balance sightseeing with relaxation, this one was purely about the sport. We barely saw the island beyond the beach and our modest accommodations. The colorful streets of Oranjestad, the dramatic desert-like Arikok National Park, even the natural pools and famous Palm Beach nightlife—all of those went unexplored. Our world was narrowed to boards, sails, wind, and water.

Looking back, I don’t regret it. There was something refreshing about devoting an entire week to a single pursuit, especially one as exhilarating and exhausting as windsurfing. The camaraderie of sharing it with a friend who loved the sport as much as I did made it even better. Aruba may be an island of many charms, but for us in 1996, it was simply paradise on the water.

It remains a reminder that sometimes the best trips aren’t about checking off sights or collecting experiences, but about throwing yourself fully into one passion and letting the days revolve around it.