About Uncharted Caribbean

We started on cruises.

The kind where you wait in line to get on, wait in line to get off, wait in line for a drink, and somehow still wait in line for dinner. We loved them anyway — because they showed us exactly which islands were worth coming back to on our own terms.

Then we started going back on our own terms.

We have watched sea turtles hatch with a biologist named Glen on a tiny island in Honduras. We drove on the wrong side of the road in St. Lucia on roads so narrow a local had to guide us around a turn. We ordered food delivered to a turtle sanctuary in the pitch black and were genuinely glad we had packed a flashlight. We showed up at a bad hotel, looked at each other, and dragged our luggage halfway across the island to my sister's hotel the next morning. A taxi driver abandoned us at a remote snorkel spot and we walked an hour before a bus appeared like a miracle. A GPS took us down a dark gravel road in St. Lucia that made us question every decision we had ever made — and then we arrived and it was the best resort we have ever stayed at.

These are not disasters. These are the trips we talk about most.

We got married on Secret Harbor Beach in St. Thomas during Covid. The man who married us had grown up in our same hometown before ending up living there. We bought a custom hook bracelet from a small jewelry shop in Cruz Bay. The hook means the sea will always bring you back.

It keeps bringing us back.

We fund these trips however we can. Business credit card points that rack up through everyday spending. Crypto profits taken from a porch in Utila while watching the ocean. Rum bought at the Red Hook grocery store instead of paying resort prices. We do not check bags. We pack fins in our carry-on.

Now we have a toddler and a second baby on the way. The Caribbean is not going anywhere. Neither are we.

This site is everything we wished we had found before we went.

When you get there — tell them we sent you.