“Coming back to Little Cayman was like awakening from a deep sleep. All sorts of smells and sounds were re-awakened in my brain. The baseball-glove sized land crabs scuttling around noisily in the sea grape leaves waving their oversized claw, their small angry eyes like peppercorns. The piratical Magnificent Frigates banking high on the updrafts looking for boobies to plunder of their catch… the West Indian whistling ducks hanging out with balck necked stilts in the mud. And most of all the ocean. The water breaking and curling over the reef day after day with great power and endless patience. I never get tired of watching or listening to it. I cannot overestimate the effect the ocean has on me. It is god, mother, life and death all rolled into one. It is great power in a pure uncorrupted form. Working in and on it makes me happy and fulfilled in a way I cannot explain.
The diving is as wonderful as ever… Getting back in the water was like going back to my natural habitat. I slipped underwater and it was like slipping into something more comfortable. All the familiar faces from sharks to tiny feisty damsel fishes were waiting for me. I wish I could just slip off my gear and disappear to live in the blue with the fishes…”
This was written from Little Cayman in 2004 by our dear friend Ann who passed away recently. I was on the island too at that time, overwhelmed by my own silly island fever and conflicting eternal love for the ocean. But her words echo in our minds and could easily awaken the sleeping giant that forever snoozes in the heart of anybody who has ever lived on an island shore.
Kudos Ann, you summed it up pretty well…
Thanks to her sister Kim for relaying her words, and to Sabine for passing them on. The photo is Misha‘s.