Leandro Maceo Leyva, special correspondent

ÎLE DE LA TORTUE, Haiti.— Located off the northeast coast, this 180-square- kilometer island is home to 27,000 residents who make their living in fishing, commerce and tourism fueled by pirate stories. Its name, based on the island’s geographical shape, is attributed to Christopher Columbus.

Surrounded by crystalline blue waters, with tropical temperatures and bountiful vegetation including a number of unique palm species, this small mountainous enclave appears to have been born a legend.

The country’s two official languages are spoken here, French and Creole, and the majority of residents are Catholic.

The island is known as a long ago pirates’ haven, since during the 17th century it was the preferred hide-out of buccaneers and corsairs who plowed the Caribbean Sea, including several illustrious figures. The most legendary of these was the British pirate Blackbeard, who established a base here.

It served as a source of inspiration for writers like Emilio Salgari, Robert Louis Balfour Stevenson and Walter Scott and as a model in their adventure novels The Black Corsair, Treasure Island and The Pirate, respectively.

Curiosity about this pirate world led me to investigate their homeland and refuge, the Île de la Tortue. I hoped to learn about their adventures and understand the whys and wherefores of their existence.

Everyone agrees the island has a forgotten, mysterious air about it, but, "Yes," a friend exclaimed, "There are Cuban doctors there!" The Cuban Medical Brigade reaches almost every corner of Haiti’s length and breadth, another good reason for me to visit the legendary enclave.

Royler Valdivia, a young intensive care nurse who has spent the last 18 months on the Île de la Tortue, served as my guide and met me in Port-de-Paix, on the main island.

The day of our sailboat trip was calm; the Haitians slept. According to Royler, at times the sea is rough and they begin to pray, foreseeing trouble. He is always confident and makes the voyage seated on the edge of the boat like any other of the 50 native passengers. He usually makes the crossing twice a month.

Everyone knows him on the La Salles, run by a local family and he occasionally lends a hand as the boat sets off or docks.

As we sail, Royler never forgets his role as a Cuban healthcare provider. He carries Gravinol tablets and a bottle of water which he shares, especially with the children.

He spoke of the trip’s "litany," of the return crossing - usually "calmer" – and the dolphins which see him off, the "kindness" of the Haitians who sail the boat, who safely delivered us to the smaller island, and gave us a hand when boarding a dory to the dock. They helped us scale the cliff which welcomed us - on a motorcycle.

Once on dry land, Royler is required to attend to every medical emergency which emerges, and do so without electricity or any other conveniences of the modern world. He contemplates the sunset every evening and watches the boats come in, as each day comes to an end.