The Atlantic opens like a cool, bright invitation: low cliffs rise from ochre sand, and a string of small coves—Papagayo’s beaches—catch the light. On a morning tour, the guide clips lifejackets to the back of sit-on-top kayaks and nudges the group off a quiet cove. Paddles cut the sea in steady, confident strokes while the island’s volcanic shoulders stand mute and watchful, the wind smoothing the water into panes of turquoise. After twenty minutes of gliding past sculpted cliffs the group drops anchor and slips into the water: the ocean immediately seems to pull curiosity forward, fish darting among rocky ledges and beds of seagrass.