Kayaking/Fishing in Prospect, Carriacou, May 11, 2008 (Sunday afternoon)

Without even stopping for lunch, Kendall and I pack up our snorkeling ear, grab my kayak paddle and his fishing line, and head out for a Sunday afternoon on the sea. We walk across the narrow dirt road from our house and scramble down the dusty hill to the secluded beach, three minutes from our front porch. While I climb into the single, blue Riot kayak and paddle out to the reefs, Guana walks along the rocky shoreline to find the perfect spot for fishing. We are parallel to each other and I wave my paddle in greeting. He waves back. All is well in green guana land.

This is my absolute favorite way to spend an afternoon in Carriacou. While Guana fishes, for what hopefully will be our dinner, I kayak surf the waves. When I get tired of that, I don mask, snorkel and fins and dive underwater to explore. The reefs around Carriacou are teaming with sea life. I see parrot fish, sergeant majors, squid, conch (lambi) nestled on the bottom of the sea floor, oh, and is that a shark?

Yes, indeed, that large fish is a nurse shark. I know they are pretty quiet fish that do not bother humans, but a shark is a shark, right? I climb back into that kayak mighty quick. I giggle to myself. I continue snorkeling, but this time from the safety of my kayak. Basically, I stick my masked face in the water while my body is ensconced in the relative safety of my blue plastic wedge.

I love the brain coral and the mighty rocks underwater. I see schools of fish, pretty blue and yellow ones, black ones with white polka dots, tons of tiny silver fish that they call sprat and which, when caught by the dozens in a net, make great fish cakes. Alas, Guana does not catch anything. He says his bait is crabby. Or was that crappy. But we have a ball. We exchange spots and he takes to the kayak, while I lie on some burnt orange rocks with my hat pulled low and I read a book, as he kayaks around the calm waters with the sun casting a red-orange and pink glow all over the sea. A tiny bananaquit flits in the tree tops above me. I am blissfully content. Ok, we have no fish for dinner, and I am getting mighty hungry and thirsty, but life is good. It is definitely irie.