Little Cayman

We arrived on Little Cayman in a tiny plane that couldn’t even fit our entire group in one trip. Little Cayman is small, about 170 residents, with a land area less than a quarter that of Kaho’olawe.

Our group split up for the initial ocean exploration, half us dove and half of us snorkelled. It was a bit lonely, as Adam and Aaron went off together as experienced divers, and Zach, Lars and Allegra were in the snorkelling group. On my dive we saw three eagle rays, trigger fish, a lemon ray, parrot fish and spiny lobsters hiding in the rocks.

Our introduction project to marine ecology involved studying the queen conch (Strombus gigas) distribution and movement. I was in the movement group, and it was quite a comedy of errors. The first day, tying the fishing line to make buoys was impossible, and were so tired from fighting the current it took us over an hour to realize we could try to tie things in the shallows before swimming them out to the deep areas. The next day the conches had moved far more than we expected, about thirty to fifty metres rather than the three to five we were told. Finding them again to measure their movement was difficult, and a few we only found by chance.

We went for an exploratory snorkel of the back reef behind the station, and immediately as we swam out we saw two stingrays and a hawksbill seaturtle. We also saw several very large spiny lobsters, a five foot barracuda and a few yellow-tailed damselfish, brilliant grey fish with iridescent spots like someone poured blue glitter on them.

On our third day of diving we went out to Bloody Bay Wall and it was amazing. At one of the sites the wall was almost sheer, and swimming over it you went from being 20 feet above coral to being able to see only endless blue below, even after diving down 60 feet. We saw a hawksbill turtle cruising around below, and a large Nassau grouper that came up to us to be petted. The regular boat was in for maintenance, so we went in one of the resorts’ boats, which had a cool second-story deck.

When I can, I have been trying to go out for a morning bike ride before breakfast. If I had my road bike on paved roads the loop of the island would only take an hour, but I’m estimating it would actually take two hours. This is a problem because there is only half an hour of actual daylight before breakfast starts at 7:00. Lars, Zack and I have also gone on a few night rides after lecture, down toward the pier where we went snorkelling earlier. On our second to last morning breakfast was delayed to brunch, so I had time to ride around the whole island, in slightly under two hours including a quick swim at the pier.

Our free day started off with a beach cleanup on the eastern side of the island. Splashing through the shallows, grinning on a turquoise backdrop. We made the three and four person towers again, and actually got pictures this time. We also had fun jumping off the dock with varying degrees of gracefulness.

Last night there were high winds from the evening on through morning. The gusts dropped the ambient temperature, and turned up the volume on the rustling leaves and crashing waves. The wind caught doors, banished the bugs, and threw people’s hair in wild disarray. I slept on the couch in the central lounge to be close to a window listening to the wind, and also because I was up late looking through the pictures I took and didn’t want to clear off my bed.

The excitement and concentration on everyone’s face as they get caught up in reef ecology. Adam diving down to find small fish or shrimp or invertebrates. The way the current and light catch Allegra’s hair as she holds something close to her mask for a look. How graceful everyone seems in the water, sleek in black wetsuits. The way the evening sun lights people up as they emerge from the water and creates a picturesque scene as they stare contemplatively out to sea.

I saw my first shark from in the water coming back from exploring Owen Island, a nurse shark that circled around us and stayed in view for a while. On the other side of the island a five foot barracuda approached us. The shore of the island was interesting, with a long shallow sandbar stretching out into the bay. There were a lot of mangroves, but we could only find one (large) mangrove crab.

We went for a night dive, and it was amazing. The corals had their arms out for feeding, and looked very fuzzy. We also saw a huge basket star, which had caught some fish and shrimp in its own appendages. At one point we all turned off our lights, and observed the bioluminescence when we disturbed the water. The darkness made everything seem very foreign, it felt like the bottom of the sea, with our flashlights looking like angler fish or searchlights. We learned that crustaceans have red eye-shine, and cartilaginous fishes (sharks, rays, skates, etc.) have green eye-­­shine, which was very useful for the lobster survey project we did the next few nights. We conducted that on the back reef behind the station, and we saw lobsters, crabs, lionfish, groupers, turtles, stingrays, squid, and an octopus. The corners of our plots were marked with glow-sticks one night, then flashlight beams, both which loomed quickly out of the darkness when you snorkelled near them.

On our last dive we went to ‘Mixing Bowl,’ where the small wall meets the large wall, and actually has an overhanging lip, sloping in as you descend. Swimming along, right before we ascended, I looked back at Amelia and saw a distinctive shadowed shape approaching. It was a grey reef shark, about six feet long, and it hung around long enough to get a good view. On the way back we also saw a nurse shark resting. Furthermore, we saw two turtles. On the way back we dove for conches, and brought them back to the station. Lowell showed us how to extract them and filet them. I made sure one conch was extracted with minimal damage to the shell, which I am bringing home to make into a conch shell trumpet.

‘Finding Nemo’ was one of the most popular movies of this stretch, and our days were filled will references such as “Fishie, why are you sleeping?,” “You made me ink” and “Mine. Mine. Mine.” We also clicked our fingers like the crabs saying ‘Ay, ay, ay’ and re-enacted the Darla entrance with the ‘Psycho’ violin screech.

On the last morning I went for a quick swim with Becca after breakfast. We saw a small stingray. The sunrise was beautiful, as it was almost every morning, and the early morning glow illuminating the island and station looked very peaceful.

Reef Traverse

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Darkness surrounds, a smothering blanket

Uncharted depths of the ocean

Alone in space

Broken only by regular hissing breaths

A flip of fins and green sparks fill the void

Glowsticks and boundary markers looming out of the gloom

Searching beams of light catch eyeshine, ruby and emerald

Clustered beams reveal the group

Rising, shadows take form

Sleek, black explorers of the sea

Transformed for the dive

Ascending the wall

Glittering surface above, fathomless depths below.

A garden of color, swaying, branching, flitting

Suspended in place fish glide

Striped, sparkled, gleaming metallic

Rays floating, lobsters scuttling, barracuda hovering

Triangular fins heralding the approach of sharks

Squid and octopi swaying tentacles

Turtles drifting, unconcerned.

Surfacing amidst the waves

Sunrise illuminating the sea foam

Venus born again

As rock iguanas and hermit crabs watch

Turquoise waters over snowy sand

Set backdrop for more fish and conches

Or to leap in from a dock or boat

Shining sun baking skin bronze

Coconuts releasing cold water

Lights die with evening sunset

As moonrise bathes in new silver glow

And stars shine forth from velvet black

An island paradise, let it remain so.