Windsurfing Margarita Island

In May of 1995, I traveled to Margarita Island, off the coast of Venezuela, for what was easily one of the most intense windsurfing trips I’ve ever taken. The island was already known as a mecca for the sport, thanks to its reliable winds and warm Caribbean waters, and that week it delivered exactly what we came for: nonstop action on the water from morning until the sun went down.

Most of our time was spent at El Yaque Beach, which had already gained a reputation among windsurfers worldwide. The wind there was strong and steady, the bay shallow, and the conditions near perfect for long sessions. From the moment we rigged our sails, it was all about speed, control, and pushing ourselves a little further each run. By midday, my arms and shoulders were burning, but after a quick rest and something to eat, I’d be right back out, chasing the wind again.

It wasn’t a trip of sightseeing or cultural exploration—our world narrowed to the beach, the gear, and the rhythm of the wind. Around us were windsurfers from all over the globe, all with the same determined look in their eyes, all chasing that feeling of gliding fast and free over turquoise water. There was a camaraderie in that shared obsession, even if most conversations were just quick nods or tips exchanged while rigging a sail.

By the end of the week, I was exhausted in the best possible way. Margarita Island had tested me physically and rewarded me with some of the best sailing conditions I’d ever experienced. It was the kind of trip where you return home sunburned, sore, and completely satisfied, knowing you squeezed every drop out of the experience.

Looking back, that week stands out as pure immersion in a passion—no distractions, no detours, just windsurfing at its finest in a place that seemed built for it.