I step carefully along the narrow path, watching a spectacle unfold before me that shouldn’t technically exist. The morning sun sparkles across a 0.10 km² freshwater lagoon sitting incongruously atop a coral island. San Andrés locals call this Big Pond, but that modest name masks a geographical anomaly I’ve traveled 1,400 kilometers from mainland Colombia to witness: a freshwater oasis perched 100 meters above sea level on an island made entirely of coral.
My guide pauses, pointing toward ripples breaking the lagoon’s surface. “Caimanes,” he whispers. The reptiles’ prehistoric silhouettes glide through water that, according to geological logic, shouldn’t be here at all.
The 0.10 km² Freshwater Miracle on a Coral Island
What makes Laguna Big Pond extraordinary isn’t just its existence but its complete defiance of Caribbean geography. This 400-meter-long body of freshwater sits atop a hill on an island formed entirely from marine coral, creating a geological contradiction that has puzzled scientists for decades.
Unlike Italy’s volcanic islands with their geothermal features, San Andrés lacks the volcanic activity that typically creates freshwater springs. Instead, this lagoon forms through a complex rainwater collection system naturally trapped by the coral bedrock below.
The pond supports a thriving ecosystem of species rarely found together, including caiman reptiles introduced in the 1970s that have adapted surprisingly well to this isolated habitat. Local Raizal people, who speak a unique blend of English, Spanish and Creole, call this phenomenon “God’s footprint” – a divine accident of geography.
How This Lagoon Defies Caribbean Coral Geology
Throughout my travels documenting island ecosystems, I’ve rarely encountered such a stark ecological contradiction. The surrounding Caribbean Sea teems with saltwater life, while just a short hike uphill, this freshwater sanctuary nurtures completely different species.
Many visitors to San Andrés focus exclusively on the island’s pristine beaches, missing this ecological marvel entirely. The lagoon sits just 4 kilometers from the main town but feels worlds away from the beachfront resorts.
“We’ve lived with this pond all our lives, but tourists only discovered it recently. Some days I come here and see no foreigners at all – just the caimans sunning themselves and the turtles popping their heads up for air.”
Unlike Belize’s famous Placencia Lagoon, which draws thousands of tourists annually, Laguna Big Pond remains relatively unknown despite offering similar wildlife viewing opportunities. What it lacks in size it compensates for with accessibility and intimacy – visitors can often spot caimans within 2-3 meters of the viewing platforms.
The caimans have developed an unusual behavior pattern over decades of human interaction. They approach visitors expecting bread – a practice wildlife officials discourage but which demonstrates these typically shy reptiles’ adaptation to their unusual circumstances.
July-August: The Perfect Window to Witness This Anomaly
Timing matters tremendously when visiting Laguna Big Pond. While other destinations offer July spectacles like bioluminescent waters, here July-August represents the sweet spot between dry season accessibility and lush vegetation.
The lagoon is open daily from 9:00 AM to 5:00 PM with a nominal entrance fee of 5,000 Colombian pesos (about $1.30). Visit before 10:30 AM for optimal wildlife activity, when caimans are most active and the San Andrés bunting – an endemic bird species – flits between surrounding fruit trees.
Reach the lagoon via taxi from San Andrés town (approximately 15,000 pesos) or by renting a scooter for about 60,000 pesos daily. The 500-meter trail from the parking area is well-maintained but can be muddy after rain, so proper footwear is essential.
For the fullest experience, bring binoculars to spot the unique bird species and avoid wearing strong perfumes, which can deter wildlife. Many visitors miss the Swanka turtles that inhabit the pond’s edges – look for their small heads breaking the surface near fallen logs.
What the Guidebooks Won’t Tell You
The most remarkable aspect of Laguna Big Pond isn’t visible on first glance. This ecosystem functions as a crucial freshwater reservoir for an island where fresh drinking water is precious. The pond’s elevation allows gravity-fed irrigation to several farms, creating a miniature freshwater economy on an island otherwise dependent on desalination.
As I watch a caiman glide silently across the water’s surface, I’m reminded why I travel – to witness these perfect contradictions in nature that defy conventional wisdom. My wife Sarah would be capturing this moment through her camera lens, focusing on how the sunlight filters through the canopy onto prehistoric reptiles in a pond that shouldn’t exist.
Like the Raizal people say, “Water find him own level” – meaning things eventually find their rightful place, even when that place is a freshwater lagoon atop a coral island in the Caribbean Sea.