Kelvin Cee
Google
Perched at the edge of Puerto Rico’s wild southwest, Faro Los Morrillos de Cabo Rojo rises like a stoic sentinel—its slate-gray tower and turquoise shutters gleaming under a punishing Caribbean sun. From its base, weathered limestone cliffs tumble steeply into sapphire waters, where waves crash and echo across timeworn rock.
We hiked under a blazing sky, following the trail past hundreds of coastal birds and through salt flats shimmering with white crystal edges. The sea breeze was intermittent relief, but the true reward came upon reaching the cliffs—a jaw-dropping amphitheater of stone and sea. Erosion has sculpted the coast into jagged outcrops, natural bridges, and vertical drops that make your heart pause.
Looking out, the Mona Passage stretches endlessly, its horizon blurred by salt mist. Behind us, the lighthouse stands still and timeless, a perfect backdrop to the drama of nature unfolding in every direction. We sheltered briefly in its shade, sipping what little water we had left, before continuing on to explore the cliff edges.
While the scenery is unmatched, the presence of scattered litter serves as a quiet reminder: not all who visit respect the wild. Yet, in that contrast, there’s a call—to cherish, to protect, and to remember that this rugged corner of the island offers something rare: unfiltered beauty, vulnerability, and awe.