May Getaways

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GreatThe

Getaway

getawaysYour Ticket toadventureandtravelAround the Diving World

Cayman Islandexploring the cayman islands little, brac and grand

weightless A brachg a lur a r a Cayma wall.

Its finally here the week Ive been waiting for. I haveleft behind e-mails and meetings and returned to thereal reason I work for a dive magazine the water.

The second I hit the hotel room, swing open the door tothe balcony and breathe in the fresh ocean air I feel my feetreject my shoes. All I want to do is dive. By days end, I amgiant-striding off a swim platform, my eyes on a watercolorhorizon. When Im finally submerged, my gear fits like a fa-

vorite pair of jeans and the coral looks brighter and biggerthan ever. Sharks, eels, barracudas and rays all come outto say hello. After a few dives, Ive officially turned blue.

I have dive fever and if there is a cure for the condition, Idont want to know about it.

In no time Im sporting a bronze glow and a lazy stroll.Life would be perfect if we could do this every mo nth. Luck-ily, the three islands that make up this Caribbean nation area short flight from most U.S. gateways and in my case,the drive to the airport takes longer than the flight. When Iwant to make the most of those precious diving days awayfrom work, the Cayman Islands are my go-to destination.And it is always a trip to remember.

78May 2007 prr.cm pa.cm May 2007

story by tara bradley


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gear already set up. Gear is the last of our

worries as Reef Divers provides what they

call a valet diving experience perfect for

divers who dont like carrying their gear, or

cleaning it or setting it up. Basically they

do everything for you but breathe.

At our first dive site, Public Beach, my

dive buddy Scott and I have already figured

out our dive plan: a deep wall followed by a

search for swim-throughs. On our way to the

wall, a small purple anemone pulses inside

a crevice of the coral, like a wind-snatched

scarf. Ahead I see the dark secret of a swim-through and the promise of the wall. As Scott

and I fin through the passage, a hermit crab

couple slowly moves, giving away their dis-

guise. We slip out onto the wall and hover

wide-eyed in the open abyss. Making our

Mustdo

Mustdive

A View From the TopF s B, f l- r f bff. n: i , b x .

1. Publc Bach2. srga Majr Wall3. Br Brhr Bulr4. Mv Captain Keith Tibbetts5. Blu Wall

taraBradley


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sport divergetaways

ride takes us to Sergeant Major, our second

dive site. This time Scott and I have decided

to focus strictly on the little stuff and the

swim-throughs. Peterson cleaning shrimp

frantically clean an anemone as the first of

what will be three stingrays skirt my periph-eral vision. A hogfish rises over the peak of a

giant coral head while below a massive lob-

ster reaches its antenna out of its small lair.

Sponges with the intricate designs of fine

linen decorate the sea floor, and nearby a

large grouper and a few parrotfish primp at a

cleaning station as if preparing for a night on

the town. When I stare long enough at the

bright yellow tube sponges, their wrinkles

and ripples start to resemble faces like the

trees in The Wizard of Oz. And as we ascend,

the top of the reef is clouded by a school of

horse-eye jacks blissfully circling each other

the perfect safety stop.

Before the sun goes down on my lastday, I take a final drive around the island.

Caves and flowers line the roads like topside

swim-throughs and colorful coral. And like

the dark recesses Ive found so plentiful on

the dives here, the caves have the same draw

begging me to enter.

Along the way I stop to see Garlon a

born and bred Bracker whom I met my

first day on-island. He is blessed with a face

drawn by decades of good stories, lots of

laughter and Cayman sunshine. As I take a

seat next to him, I have the feeling Im sit-

ting next to my grandfather a man filled

with stories from back when. Upon talk-

ing with a local woman, I have discoveredGarlons former profession which he

conveniently has repeatedly forgotten to

mention. And when I tease him about it,

the former district commissioner for the

Sister Islands, answers with a feeble smile.

As with many Caymanians, boasting is not

part of his repertoire.

As the day comes to an end, I say

goodbye to Garlon and make my final way

ushioda/seapics.c

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pa.cm May 2007

Wall Magiclittle cayman

it is evening and the beach at Little Cay-

man Beach Resort is empty. Lazy palms

sway above empty hammocks. The water

laps toward me luring me to jump in for an

impromptu night dive. I walk toward the

shore, and with each sandy step I anticipate

a chill. To my surprise, the water wrapping

around my ankles is warm. When I look up,

the bright stars shine like a spotlight on the

sea. Then I notice I am not alone. From the

glow of the occasional torch, I can make

out the silhouettes of divers moving up the

dock. They have returned from a night dive

and from the sound of their laughter, it must

have been a good one.

Good dives arent hard to come by on

Little Cayman. Measuring a mere one by

10 miles, the smallest of the three islands is

known for its simple life and dynamic div-

ing. Columbus sighted the islands in May

1503 when his ship blew off course on his

last trip to the New World. And the island

hasnt strayed far from the way he found

it people and cars are scarce compared

to the iguanas and bikes that make up the

small amount of daily traffic.

My first morning I take advantage

of the unspoken bike-sharing policy and

peddle my way down the main and only

road, which leads to the local market,

museum and Red Footed Booby Bird Sanc-

tuary all of which close at dusk. Along

the way, small gravel paths lead from the

road to the beach, a reminder of the water

just a short walk away. And almost meta-

phorically, at the end of the main road is

the sandy doorstep to the airport. Topside

I have already discovered Little Caymans

simplicity. And underwater, Im looking to

discover Bloody Bay Wall.

The story goes that a diver named

Lea Lea saw a hammerhead and wanted to

return to the same site every day to see it.

Sadly, it didnt give her an encore. But the

divemasters ended up naming the site af-

ter her. So here we are at Lea Leas Lookout

on Bloody Bay Wall. As I glide through the

swim-through that will throw me into the

abyss, I look up something every diver

should do at least a half dozen times on a

wall dive. As the sunlight pierces down, the

basket sponges and sea fans exude a ghostly

glow. A large crab hides in a crevice as his

super-sized counterpart takes cover in a

dark cove farther down the way. The misun-

derstood spotted eel opens his mouth like a

playful puppet mimicking a friendly hel-

lo. Barrel sponges stand tall like vases in a

grand dining room. Not until we surface do

I realize that we never saw a hammerhead,

but I dont mind.

On our next dive, we hit the Mead-

ows. Because the wall starts shallow, most

of the dive sites have the benefit of the dra-

matic views of a wall dive in addition to

the extended shallow-diving bottom time.

For divers who enjoy exploring swim-

throughs, Bloody Bay Wall is diver heaven.

The reefs are Swiss-cheesed with every

type of swim-through imaginable from

the drive-your-bus-through variety to the

take-off-your-BC-and-go kind. As I enter

Mustdo

Mustdive

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tysawyer

jonathanBird


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sport divergetaways

pa.cm May 2007

another dark opening looking cautiously for

the light at the end of the tunnel, I notice a

flamingo tongue (my favorite) hiding under

a fallen sea fan. Its pink and black skin is so

smooth, it begs to be touched. But I know

better and leave it in its secret spot. Nearby,

a fireworm curls on a gorgonian fan like

a sassy lady in a fancy fur. I watch as

she fluffs her cotton-like trim giving me

a spicy warning. And although Im sure

she is soft, I avoid the temptation and the

burn that would likely follow from her fi-

ery sting. As the boat makes its way back

to the resort for lunch, we swap stories

and share pictures. On the stern, a group

takes their semiannual dive-club photo

commemorating their last dive of the trip.

When they claim the Meadows as their

new favorite site on Little Cayman, the

bubbly divemaster Annabelle gives them

a laugh and a few teases. Theyve obvi-

ously said this after every dive shes taken

them on this week. Jokes then fly about an

un-named diver who had a habit of losing

things all week long even his shoes. In

typical diver fashion, theyve turned their

dive trip into a friendly affair.

Dining at the Bird of Paradise Restau-

rant is an event as well. The home-style

setting feels like Im in my best friends

familiar kitchen that is, if she lived on

an exotic island and owned a dive boat. As

the departing dive club continues teasing

one of their members, the Pezze family is

excitedly talking about how they are going

to celebrate their 16th or 17th anniversary

(depending on whom youre asking

amid it all, Denvil, one of the chefs,

tall in his crisp white chef coat maki

everyone is enjoying the food they h

delicately laid out the spread in

fresh grilled fish, cold iced tea and ca

sweet they taste like candy. Off to the

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Special Thanks to Cayman Air-ways, Sister Islands Tourism

Association, Sunset House, LittleCayman Beach Resort and Cay-man Brac Beach Resort.

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sport divergetaways

pa.cm May 2007

array of fluffy cakes dark chocolate, Key

lime and strawberry tempt the guests.

But I cant help but give in when my eye

catches a small sliver of the brightly col-

ored strawberry cake.

The sun is signaling the midday heat,

and it is time to get back in the water. Before

our dive at Coconut Walk, PADI Divemaster

Ron draws the site on the whiteboard. We

watch in awe as he draws a mess of squiggles

suggesting what he says will be a lot of fish.

While the rest of the group heads along the

wall, I stay behind, and just as Ron predict-

ed, a mass of confusion appears before me.

Blue chromis, Bermuda chubs and yellowtail

snappers dance around each other as if in a

tremendous ballroom. Then for some reason,

diver intuition hits something is going to

happen. I watch as a barracuda glides in with

his long pointed nose held high, showing off

his importance and utter power. The intruder

attempts a few nibbles on the frantic fish, but

with no success. And then just as quickly as

he appeared, the barracuda is gone. I look to

my right and at the Pezzes, who are excitedly

cheering underwater. The dancing fish dont

miss a beat and calmly return to their rou-

tine. Just as the yellowtails seem to breathe

a sigh of relief, a reef shark slowly starts to

silver curtain slr j ar hrugh Cayma may

wm-hrugh. r: A gl zahx plyp .

Little Cayman Beach Resortf f F-s padi g p dc >> 57 m p Z >> >>f / -b >> >>t n s >> f b >> tB f p r

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materialize from the deep blue below. First

his outline is fuzzy, and then as he gets shal-

lower, he comes into view. The fish disperse. I

have to hold myself back from darting down

to meet him, but I know it would only scare

him away. I watch him slowly swim off as the

fish cautiously move back into place and my

dive comes to and end.

It is one hour before my departure off

Little Cayman, and as I take the two-minute

drive from LCBR to the airport I have just

beaten the traffic. Little Caymans annual

Mardi Gras parade is about to take place, and

the excitement pulsates through the a

locals and vacationers are decorated in

Gras beads, balloons and face paint. O

is even holding a wedding ceremon

plete with a minister, pews and, of

the happy couple. It is a big day for th

island. And although I am at the airpo

alize Ive got one of the best seats for th

as the parade continues past the airp

down the runway. With only moment

Little Cayman, I enjoy the perfect final

cast of characters disappears down t

way and into the horizon.

masaushioda/seapics.c

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dougperrine/seapics.c

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pa.cm May 2007

And of course, I continue deeper to meet

my new friend.

As we get closer, I have the urge to

turn around. How close is too close any-

ways? I slowly kick forward and try to

make my breaths as few and far between

as possible. Suddenly, she sees me. And

with the flip of her tail, she darts down

the wall and out of sight. Breathless, I

look up to see if anyone else saw her.

Then as if to let me know they were

with me all along two eagle rays glide

overhead. As I make my way to the boat,

I give the camera in my hand an extra

squeeze, thankful that I have the videoto prove it.

I visit the Cayman Islands every

chance I get. And Grand Cayman is usu-

ally my first stop. It is the biggest of the

three islands, measuring a mere 22 by

eight miles long. Also the most devel-

oped, Grand Cayman is perfect for those

who want the island getaway with lots of

topside options. You can find a hidden

romantic restaurant like Papagallo

your salsa on at Caf Med, watch

sunset on Seven Mile Beach or d

stop diving just about anywher

if you choose the latter, it is a wa

lovers piece of paradise.

Before I even open my eyes th

morning in my room at PADI Fi

Gold Palm Dive Center Sunset H

hear the chipper crow of a rooster

ing in the courtyard below the

reminder that yes, Im in Cayma

tumble out of bed I am instantly e

Today Sunset Divers is going to

Chute, a dive site resembling an water ski slope and when Im

I always feel like Im flying over a

rado ski resort (minus the lodge).

high in the sky A aral w s

Ml Bach Gra Cayma rm

h b a w a paraal.

Mustdo

Mustdive

A New Guy in Townd g h i g g t. w g b b f b ?

1. sa Chu2. tarp Ally3.Doc Polson4. Ma sr5. sappr Hl

tanyaBurnett


9/9prr.cm94May 2007

sport divergetaways

pa.cm May 2007

Within minutes of waking up, I have

to remind myself that Im not dreaming

as I float over the mountaintop. The peak

of the sandy summit slopes endlessly into

the darkness of the mysterious waters be-

low. And below is the kind of deep water

that holds unusual creatures with crazy

anatomies bodies built to withstand

intense pressure and constant darkness.

Critters with senses so sharp they can

pinpoint the exact coordinates of their

prey without ever being detected. And

similarly, something in the deep below

could be sensing my presence. I silently

take in the thrill.

Although I might not know what

lurks in the depths, from my view the

sand sits like powder, and the sun hits

my skin as if I were on an actual ski lift.

I want to go down the hill and find out

where the run ends. I descend the incline

and feel the urge to find the bottom to

meet the mysterious creatures with no

eyes and built-in headlamps. They cant

be too far away. The temptation of deep

waters always gets me. Just then a school

of horse-eye jacks circles above as a

quick reminder of my limits. Thankfully,

I slowly rise and join them. And after a

motionless moment inside their dancing

ring, I make my way back to the surface

even farther away from the unknown

depths below.

That evening at My Bar Sunset

Houses answer to Cheers expats, lo-

cals and divers enjoy end-of-day drinks

with conch fritters and games of who-

saw-what against a background of the

blue-green lights of a night dive shiningup from the house reef. With unlimited

shore diving, it seems someone is always

underwater here. And when they do dry

off, they come to My Bar to eat, drink,

and of course, brag. As the night starts

to dwindle, I make my way to my room.

And playing the opposing role to the

mornings rooster, the sound of the sea

gently lulls me to sleep.

As on any trips last day, I go top-side for my requisite drive around the is-

land (and have a love/hate moment with

my computer, which wont let me dive

before flying). I have made my way up

and down Seven Mile Beach throughout

the week, so to slow things down I head

to the quiet side of Cayman the East

End. It is only a 45-minute drive from my

pink corner at Sunset House, and I take

my time. After a quick stop at Chesters

for their homemade sweet fried bread, I

continue eastward. The blowholes on my

left are a sure sign Im close. Their sky-

high spurts of seawater always lure me to

play a quick game of cat and mouse, but

no matter how many times I think I have

their timing figured out, I usually end

up going back to the car drenched.

This time is no exception. When I finally

dry off and hit Rum Point, I contemplate

staying for sunset. Since that particular

area of the island wraps around to face

the West End, you can watch as the sun

falls behind the island. The serene silence

of this side feels like a vacation from a

vacation. I dont think it could get any

calmer than that, making it one of thebest places to watch the sun go down.

But then again, there really arent any

bad places to watch it. So, I opt to head

back toward the West End and make a

stop at Smiths Cove one of my per-

sonal favorites. And as the sun starts to

disappear, I think back to my new friend,

the hammerhead, and wonder where she

goes for her sunsets.

m wb:s f -f; prr.cm/hammrha.


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tysawyer

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