The Cayman Islands, a British Overseas Territory, sit by roughly 19º latitude north and 80º longitude west in the Caribbean Sea, tucked below the large landmass of Cuba and just to the west of Jamaica. Consisting of three islands, the country has a population of roughly fifty thousand souls, ninety percent of whom live in and around the capital of Georgetown on the main island, Grand Cayman. The two other satellites, called the Sister Islands, lie eight miles to the east. Barely poking out of the water at the top of an underwater dorsal dropping straight down twenty-five thousand feet to the bottom of the Cayman Trench, they are small and almost identically shaped, about twelve miles long and a mile and a half wide in their center. Cayman Brac is the most populated with a little over a thousand inhabitants. It is flat on its western end but in the east, it ends in a sharp hundred and forty-foot high cliff called The Bluff. Little Cayman, until now, has resisted growth and only claims around two hundred permanent residents, all of which are very fond of their home and usually a touch strange, too. Island life isn’t for everybody, and if the mythical fever does not strike soon after arrival to kick you off, you can assume you are “different”. And fit for the rock.