Alejandro Nápoles Pérez’s daring escape from Cuba is nothing less than remarkable. The young man from Las Tunas, a central-eastern municipality of the island, crossed the Florida Straits in three days in an inflatable kayak without severe injury.
With no experience, he purchased a kayak online and planned his escape. "I knew how to swim well, but I had no knowledge of navigation or kayaks, or anything about the sea... I know it sounds crazy, but that's what a person who’s desperate to escape considers," said Nápoles in his first press interview after his arrival in Marathon Key, Florida on August 21, 2022.
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Border Patrol authorities initially reported the incident on social media and shared that its sole crew member would face deportation proceedings. After a weeks’ long detention and applying for political asylum Nápoles successfully convinced authorities that he had operated with ‘credible fear’ in deciding to leave Cuba. He has since been able to reunite with family members in Tampa under supervised release.
"I was struck by how a young man his age, an only child, risked everything to seek freedom....Alejandro is the face of Cuban desperation," says immigration attorney Sophia Carballosa.
In November of 2022, the authorities of the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) granted him parole. Nápoles decided to break his silence and tell CiberCuba the story of his 61-hour journey from Cuba to Florida, thus putting a name and a face to the harrowing tale. He will soon file for permanent residency under the Cuban Adjustment Act (CAA). His priorities include validating his auto mechanic credentials and finding a way to one day be reunited with loved ones left behind: his parents and a three-year-old son.
What follows is Nápoles’ account.
A military mechanic: Reasons for disenchantment
I am from Las Tunas, Cuba. My parents still live there. When I finished high school, I went to Havana to study mechanics at the "General Antonio Maceo" Interarms School [today "General Antonio Maceo" University of Military Sciences]. I chose the technical career path to avoid forced conscription and thus study mechanics, which is what I have always loved. I graduated in 2012 and was assigned to work in a military repair unit of the Army, with the rank of lieutenant.
My disenchantment with the Cuban government began at the military repair unit where I saw some things that bothered me. For example, it was not unusual for the Cuban military to discard trucks that were still in working condition. Rather than using a truck to help a school, hospital or farm, it was destined for the scrap heap. Twice I requested to be discharged from the Army. The first time I was denied and the second time, even worse, my request was ignored. The Cuban military, and by extension the Cuban government, can keep you like that for the rest of your life because there is no one to complain to.
Turning point
The turning point that made me decide to leave the country was the protests of July 11, 2021. It was a Sunday and my boss called me to ask that I report to work. It was clear to me that the military was looking to repress the popular protests at the time. I told him I was unavailable as I was busy caring for my son with my family. After my refusal I was summoned to meet with my superiors. They made clear that I would need to make myself available to support the repression of protests, should I be asked again. I didn't choose a career as a military mechanic for that, I thought to myself. The military is supposed to be there to protect the country, not to fight against its own people.
Deciding to escape
Transportation on the island is a challenge and I was fortunate enough to own a motorcycle that I had purchased some time ago. I knew I had taken an important step towards leaving Cuba the day I decided to sell that motorcycle: my only means of transportation in the city and my prized possession. At that point there was no backing out. That was around June 2022- about two months before my departure. I was determined to leave, but I didn't have the capital to acquire the things I needed to flee.
I initially wanted to leave Cuba legally, but because of my military status they would not allow me to even obtain a passport. So I explored with childhood friends in Las Tunas the possibility of escaping in a boat, but nothing concrete came of it. I thought about a trip on a raft with friends, people who are like my brothers and who were not going to betray me. They had young children, however, and if something were to happen -and I were to survive- I would have undoubtedly had survivor’s guilt for the rest of my life. I thought about my father, who I'm sure would have accompanied me, but I didn't want my mom to be alone. I decided to proceed at my own risk with the hope that a new world would become available to me.
Inspired by Diana Nyad
I decided to undertake a sea crossing after I read the story and saw the videos of the American swimmer Diana Nyad, who at 64 managed to cross the Florida Straits [in September 2013]. She swam from Havana in two days and four hours. She was my inspiration. If she had done it swimming, I was sure I could do it paddling a kayak. Now I know it was out of a crazed desperation that I had this idea. Afterall, she had equipment protecting her at her side; she was a professional swimmer and I had nothing to do with the sea. I knew how to swim very well but had no knowledge of navigation or kayaks or boats. What I know is mechanics.
The price of freedom
I initially considered a larger vessel for my escape but quickly realized that a kayak would be less conspicuous. I had to operate covertly and so I stayed away from the marketplace groups on Facebook and instead stuck to the online watersports and fishing hobby groups. It was in one of those groups that I saw an ad for an inflatable kayak. The seller and I settled the sale for 350 euros and he agreed to bring it to my home in Havana. As a side note, since I arrived in the US I have found kayaks comparable to mine sell for approximately $150. At that point, however, it was as if I had no choice. I had already sold my motorcycle and decided to flee so if he had asked me for 500 euros I would have most certainly paid that. In the end freedom is priceless. I also bought the compass for 150 euros. The compass seller figured out why I was buying it and wished me luck on the journey. He knew that I could not say much in response.
Careful preparations
Aside from the equipment, I had to consider other aspects of the journey. I read on the internet about astronomy and meteorology as well as anything I thought might be useful for navigation: how to orient myself with the stars, how to use a compass, etc. I downloaded apps to guide me with a GPS, but in the end the GPS didn't help me because the phone got wet. I ended up having to guide myself only by the compass and the stars.
I also prepared myself psychologically. I imagined every possible thing that could go wrong and played out how I would handle any emergency that might arise while at sea. I learned that professional kayakers use isothermic suits to guard against the cold. I ended up buying one a week before beginning my journey.
I used a VPN to log onto internet sites in Florida that are blocked by the Cuban government. I was able to watch Florida news and get up-to-date local weather information. I was waiting for the right time.
Saying “adiós”
Once I saw a forecast for sunny skies for four consecutive days I knew I would need to let my girlfriend know that I planned to leave the next day. Up until that point I had kept my plans in the strictest secrecy. I didn't even have the things for the trip stored in my house in Reparto Eléctrico [Arroyo Naranjo], in the outskirts of Havana, but in another house that was under construction in the Diez de Octubre neighborhood. Naturally, she became very nervous. My girlfriend and I agreed that if she did not hear from me in three days, she would contact my cousins in Tampa [Florida] so that they could call the U.S. Coast Guard and look for me.
The next day, August 18, I hired a driver to take me to Guanabo Beach. I arrived at around two o'clock in the afternoon. One can imagine the scene: people bathing in the sea and clearly on vacation mode. I inflated the kayak on the beach and took it to the water to practice turning, flipping and climbing in. No one thought twice of it. After all no one would fathom anyone heading towards the United States on a kayak.
Letting go of Cuba
I packed provisions for more than three days. The kayak had a compartment behind the seat where I put 10 liters of water, a few cans of tuna, four cans of Red Bull that I had bought in Guanabo beach and cookies: everything that could get wet without spoiling.
At around seven o'clock, as people began to leave the beach, I started to get nervous because I knew that soon I would be on my way. I strapped everything into the kayak and put an adjustable flashlight on my head. My departure was one of the most difficult moments of the journey. At nine o'clock the beach was dark, quiet and with no one in sight. As I got into the kayak I thought that perhaps that moment would be my last on dry land. It was one of the hardest moments of the journey. I had to let go of the land; I had to let go of Cuba.
First night at sea
I will never forget my first night at sea. I was worried that I would be caught. I could still see the lights of Cuba in the distance. As I paddled I saw a steady stream of fishing boats passing as they headed back to the coast. Fearing that I would be discovered, I would stop silently so they would not notice me.
Even after having spent all night paddling, at dawn I could still see the Cuban coastline. I kept paddling and finally there came a time when I was completely surrounded by water. With the sun beating brightly, in the middle of the sea, I laid down my guard and was able to sleep for a solid two hours.
Unexpected companions
At around midday on Saturday a small shark appeared near me. The sight of even a small shark was enough to give me a jolt of adrenaline. It swam up to the kayak, moved backwards, went around to the other side, and stayed there for about five minutes. I hit it with my paddle and it disappeared. My adrenaline was still pumping. After that incident I didn't look at the water anymore, only looked up and forward. Thankfully the noisy seagulls kept me company the whole time.
The next night I saw flashes of light in the distance that then disappeared. I got a little discouraged thinking that perhaps I was lost. Ironically, I awaited the night time with anticipation. I felt comfortable in the dark, because no one could see me, the temperature was cool and the suit kept me warm in the early morning hours. I knew that I had signed up for a rough ride; but even in that uncertain moment I did not second-guess my decision to leave the island.
Two travelers at 26 miles
The only humans I saw on my journey were two Cubans from Florida who were aboard a yacht. I didn't even see the boat when it approached me but it was great luck. Although they were unable to rescue me because to do so would be illegal, they gave me just what I needed to keep going: cold drinking water and some food. I asked them how far I was from shore and they told me 26 miles. It was like telling me I was just around the corner. I don't know their names, but I would like to see them again sometime to thank them.
Marathon Key in sight
By Saturday night I could see the lights of the Florida Keys in the distance. I fell asleep with them on the horizon.
I was really exhausted. The wetsuit gave me burns that to this day are evident on my arms and other parts of my body. At that point I was paddling and felt that I was not making any progress. When I spotted a few small buoys I got closer, tied myself to them and fell asleep. When I awoke at dawn I saw a bridge, cars and beach chairs on the shore next to what seemed to be a hotel. I started paddling towards that point. Nobody looked at me twice. To them I looked like just another recreational kayaker, wetsuit on, out for a morning ride. I arrived at the shore in front of the hotel at exactly 10 am.
As I got out of the kayak the water reached my ankles. As I stood up my legs were wobbly. Oddly enough I did not get seasick while at sea but it was upon making landfall that I felt somewhat ill. I took a few minutes to collect myself and my few belongings before entering the hotel courtyard.
The first couple I encountered spoke to me in English. I approached another couple who struck me as Spanish speakers. To my surprise they were Cubans! I was delighted. I then told them that I had just arrived from Cuba. They immediately welcomed me and offered me a seat at their breakfast table and an open invite to order anything on the menu. To everyone’s surprise, including my own, I was not hungry. I was happy to have my first cup of coffee in the United States. This Cuban couple has been a source of support for me from the moment I arrived in this country to today. I am grateful that they have remained in contact with my family.
Taken aback by generosity
The Cuban couple contacted the manager who then called an ambulance, the police as well as immigration agents who transferred me to a center in Marathon Key. Before I left the hotel, the Cuban couple lent me a phone to make a video call to my family in Cuba and to let my cousins in Tampa know that I had safely arrived. I am very grateful to them and I say that they were my first guardian angels in the United States.
The hotel experience was exciting for me and I will always remember it because it was my introduction to American generosity. Word began to spread that a Cuban had arrived in a kayak and the hotel guests, in awe, were quick to approach me. A man gave me $20. He picked up on my reluctance and encouraged me to accept his offer. "Take it, you'll need it," he said. In a blink of an eye I managed to amass $815 dollars. This money came in handy during my detention by immigration officials.
Leaving behind a no-future homeland
I speak for myself, but I think that most young people in Cuba do not envision a successful future for themselves on the island. It’s understood that regardless of what you study, you're not going to see the fruits of your efforts. Trying hard is futile. Cuban officials say that things are on track to get better but it seems that the country is going backwards.
It feels as though almost everything in Cuba is illegal. The odds are stacked against you if you want to start a business. The government turns a blind eye when an entrepreneur, out of necessity, buys goods for the business on the black market... until they don’t. The government lets you continue until you “get in someone’s way.” Then, without notice, officials can inspect your business and behold they will find a violation. Everyone knows that if you own a pizzeria you have somehow sidestepped the law to acquire the needed ingredients. In fact, business owners are forced to become complicit with the status quo because everyone, especially the Cuban government, knows that money is power. To stay in power, the government needs to make you dependent on its whims. What kind of a future is that?
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