You'll step from the boat into ankle-deep water that reveals every pebble on the bottom. The sand slopes gently, compressed and firm near the waterline, softer and warmer where it meets the vegetation line. A handful of beach almond trees provide the only substantial shade, their broad leaves filtering sunlight into coin-sized patches. Behind the beach, the hillside rises steeply in layers of scrub and rock.
“The boat-access requirement filters visitors, preserving a cove that feels untouched despite being relatively close to Mochima village.”
Playa Las Maritas — photo by José Pestana
The cove's protection creates bathwater conditions—waves become gentle undulations rather than breaking surf, and the water temperature hovers perpetually comfortable. You can swim straight out from shore, watching the sandy bottom gradually deepen to reveal scattered coral heads and rock outcrops where sergeant majors and parrotfish graze. The visibility extends ten meters or more on calm days, the water so clear it seems absent until you touch it.
Few boats make the trip midweek, leaving the cove to an audience of pelicans and the occasional heron stalking the shallows. The surrounding national park designation means no development—no restaurants, no lounge chairs, no music. You'll hear wavelets lapping sand, wind in the almond leaves, your own breathing. By late afternoon, the sun drops behind the western headland, throwing the beach into sudden cool shadow while the water still glows with captured light.
