ISLA HOLBOX, Mexico _ Several weeks before I found myself uncomfortably close to the world's largest shark, I told a few folks I would be going to Holbox.
"Whole what?" asked more than one.
"Holocene," corrected my smartphone.
"Ohl-bosch," corrected the locals when I arrived.
Isla Holbox, a Mexican island with turquoise waters, unpaved streets and about 3,000 residents, lies about 120 miles northwest of Cancun, 500 miles south of New Orleans.
It's not an American household name yet, but it has fine sand, palm trees, wild flamingos and beachfront hotels charging less than $200 a night.
Moreover, if you take a boat out from mid-May through mid-September, you have a good chance of swimming with a whale shark. There is no bigger fish.
They grow to as much as 40 feet long and 30,000 pounds. Their gray flanks are peppered with white polka dots. Their mouths are up to 3 feet tall and 4 feet wide. Because they're filter-feeders, consuming mostly plankton, they swim through life with their wide mouths open, no teeth in sight.
But first, the island.
It's about 26 miles long and a mile wide and is developed only at its eastern end. You'll want mosquito repellent.
Most visitors arrive after a three-hour ride by taxi, van or bus from Cancun, then a half-hour ferry from the coastal town of Chiquila.
The temperature is rarely cooler than 65 degrees, rarely hotter than 90.
Before long, somebody will explain that the word "Holbox" comes from a Mayan phrase for "black hole," perhaps derived from local freshwater springs.
So far there are no global hotel or restaurant brands _ in fact, no hotels with more than about 45 rooms. About a dozen beachfront lodgings are lined up along Holbox's north-facing shore, where the dock is.
The bohemian-chic, Italian-owned Hotelito Casa las Tortugas, where I was lucky enough to land, is more stylish than most of the island's lodgings. It has 26 rooms, a pool, a raked-sand beachfront and rates that start at about $186 a night.
Most islanders live in low-rise, no-frills homes constructed in the last 50 years on the flat, sandy island. Most of the buildings are boxy and modern, often splashed with murals.
There is nothing Spanish Colonial here.
Because the island is part of the Yum Balam Nature Reserve and a hefty distance from Cancun, growth has been limited. One major development proposal has been tied up in court for years.
Yet the place is getting busier as travelers rush in from the U.S., Europe and Mexico City. As tourism grows (and debate increases about what's sustainable and what isn't), a sophisticated crop of restaurants has arisen.
