Last Wednesday night we all packed our sleeping gear, food, cameras, and a
guitar for a camp-out on Long Cay. The evening began with a rather wet boat
ride to the camp site. Unfortunately, our interns and a handful of other people
got wet on their way from the boat to the shore, because we had to anchor
off-shore. I was amazed as I watched one of our gracious interns, Evie,
carrying her roommate Bren to shore on her shoulders.
While we were building a camp fire, someone yelled from down-shore that they
had discovered a baby turtle. We caught the turtle to look at it. Sadly, it was
missing a front flipper due to a shark bite, but it was still a proficient swimmer.
We turned it over, which doesn’t hurt the turtle, and it fell asleep. Eventually,
we let it make its way back to the water.
Further along in the evening, Charlie, the site manager, played the guitar while
the rest of us sang songs. We even roasted marshmallows. As darkness set in,
we each found a place on the beach to retire for the night, hoping to avoid the
many sand spurs which stick in your feet. It was really neat to sleep under the
stars next to the water. At 5:00 a.m. I was awakened by a wave soaking my
feet! One student woke up half-way underwater. He is obviously a heavy
sleeper! All in all, it was another great experience here in South Caicos.
Fishing Philosopher
Liam Carr
In all of my years growing up on the waters of Long Island Sound, I have
never, ever caught a fish. And it’s not like I haven’t tried, either. I went fishing
with my father, and all I could manage to do was to tangle my line around my
pole, myself, and the nearest tree limb. So don’t ask me why I dared to
announce to all of my classmates here that I was going shark fishing. I probably
had a better chance of catching a snowflake.
Undaunted by the odds, I marched out Saturday night with a sure step, a
determined look, and several French grunt as bait. With several classmates
coming along and "Silver" Dwayne (he’s from South Caicos) as our
experienced fisherman, we walked a half mile to the fishing dock, where, Silver
insisted, sharks come every night to feed on the discarded conch and lobster
scraps. Big sharks.
After setting two hand lines, Silver and I sat on the dock, talking about what it
was like to catch a shark. Within five minutes of setting my lines, I got my first
bite. A little over-excited, I failed to set the hook into whatever had decided to
nibble on the grunt. The feeling of an empty line was far too familiar to me. A
few minutes later I got another another bite, and I had more trouble setting the
hook. Disheartened, I sat in silence with the line resting loosely in my hands.
All of a sudden, the line was shooting out of my hand! Another bite! I slowly
counted to five before setting the hook. When I pulled back, a fish jumped two
feet out of the water 100 feet from me. For the next five minutes, I fought for
every inch of the line that separated me from my first catch. With lots of help, I
managed to run the fish down the dock and onto the beach. There, in the glow
of the moonlight, was a lemon shark! An absolutely beautiful lemon shark. It
measured just under four feet long. Looking at me with lucid, yellow eyes, the
shark seemed to be telling me how lovely it was to live free in the ocean, how I
had tricked him with some tasty grunt, and how now that he laid on foreign
land, he would never swim in the sea again. The whole moment overwhelmed
me emotionally, and from that point on, I personally felt responsible that the
shark be treated with dignity and respect, even in death. Since he had such
sharp teeth and strong jaws, it was impossible to set it free. Silver killed the
shark quickly, saving it from a slow, painful death.
It was up to me to carry Lucius, the name I had given to the shark, all the way
back to the school. And was he ever so heavy! As I walked, it seemed like all
of South Caicos came out to see the shark hunter and his shark. Little boys
asked to touch his skin. Little girls screamed and ran. The fishermen laughed at
the small size and the women congratulated me on my big, ferocious shark.
Somehow, I made it all the way back without dropping Lucius, and that night, I
prepared him for the next night’s dinner. On Sunday, there was plenty of shark
steaks for everyone, including Claus, our cat, who happily gulped down the
leftovers.
Besides learning that I love eating shark steaks, that night taught me a lot about
life and nature. Life is meant to be won and lost courageously, as Lucius had
done. A quiet life has no worth. In fighting for his life, and in facing death
courageously, Lucius welcomed me back to nature, where every minute of
every day is lived with valor, and every breath of life is taken at its fullest,
because there is no guarantee of your next breath.
