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Little Corn Island, Nicaragua

This is the way you picture island resorts looking 50 years ago. Standing on the tiny municipal pier of Little Corn Island, about 40 miles off eastern Nicaragua, I can see fishermen and pastel-colored casitas and jungle. It is bliss — but it's no St. Bart's.

An earlier online version of this story had incorrectly spelled Brendon Efaw's name as Brandon Efax.

If your idea of a Caribbean vacation includes facials, room service and $25 breakfasts, head to those islands whose names start with "Saint." But if strapping on a pair of hiking boots, slathering yourself in high-test mosquito repellent and trekking through the jungle to deserted beaches quickens your pulse, Little Corn or its sister, Great (also called Big) Corn, are your ticket.

High-end amenities here include hot water, 24-hour electricity and $11 lobster dinners.

During my visit in January, I overheard Canadian and European tourists say, "I wanted to go to Costa Rica, but it's too expensive and built up."

So they're here instead, at a place with no golf resorts, few tourists and zero paparazzi. At a place poised somewhere between adolescence and adulthood: striving to be St. Thomas but still in its awkward "Pirates of the Caribbean" stage — treehouses and jungle cabins, Ramón the Spaniard and Paola the Italian.

When I told friends I was coming to the Corn Islands for adventure and cheap lobster, their faces went blank. They shouldn't have felt embarrassed about their geographical ignorance, though. The Corns are far off the travel grid, but the payoff is solitude, scenery and some of the best fishing, diving and snorkeling in the Caribbean, at bargain prices. The bonus: no driving necessary. On Great Corn, there are only rented golf carts ($31 for three hours) and taxis ($1 per person anywhere on the island) for tourists; on Little Corn, there are no cars — or roads for that matter.

All the better for what I had in mind.

Colorful history

The Corn Islands were first inhabited by the Sumu and Kukra Indians, according to "Meet Corn Island," Rodwell Morgan's historical book. By the 16th century, British, Dutch and French pirate ships were menacing these waters, attacking and robbing the Spanish vessels carrying gold and other treasures from Central and South America back to the mother country.

British settlers from Jamaica began moving to the Corn Islands in the 18th century, bringing their African slaves with them. Most of the islanders today are descendants of those settlers and speak English. The Nicaraguan "mainlanders" speak Spanish.

Locals and tourists plopped themselves and their bags aboard our 15-passenger panga, an open boat that zipped us the nine miles from Great Corn Island to Little Corn. When it pulled alongside the pier after the 25-minute, jowl-jostling crossing, I knew immediately that I had left Nicaragua's last outpost of civilization. No roads, no doctors, a smattering of hostelries and restaurants, sketchy phone reception, one Internet connection.

A porter, Lolo, greeted me, tossed my luggage on his wheelbarrow and we headed out. We strolled through a slice of the tiny town to a dirt path heading east through the jungle. After about a quarter-mile, we reached 12 brightly colored casitas that make up Casa Iguana.