10,000 mm Beneath the Sea*

Anchorage at Water Cay in the Jumentos

We recently returned from our second trip to the Jumentos. These are a scattered chain of mostly uninhabited islands, some no bigger than your house, that lie about 50 miles south of Georgetown. They are not much visited and there are no supplies or help if you get into trouble. These challenges are actually appealing to cruisers looking for a more untouched experience. They have another feature, too:  fish! There are thousands of small reefs and coral heads that support communities of sea-life that only rarely feel the savage sting of a cruiser’s fishing spear.  Because of the reduced hunting, you get a chance to see schools of larger fish you almost never see up in Georgetown (or at least, we’ve never seen in our many underwater explorations), fish with names like, "Hog Fish", "Grey Triggerfish," and larger snapper varieties. They are all good eating so cruisers take aim and the sound of spear points pinging against coral ring across the reefs. 

 

A visual delight: Passing through Hog Cay Cut

The World Below Us

On our first expedition here, we found a nicely populated area of coral about 20-30' deep. The first thing I noticed was the incredible clarity of the water. I could see at least a couple hundred feet in all directions. The world was bounded by this pale blue milky horizon hundreds of feet away. The brilliant white sand of the bottom reflects a lot of light, so every rock or coral head is cast in sharp relief. If you can imagine a swimming pool the size of an ocean tanker, with a white bottom and scattered coral mounds, then you have basically the idea of what we’re swimming in. Throw in a huge assortment of fish, add a barracuda or two and the rare shark – now you have the whole picture.

A bull shark comes to the boat to check us out

Jeanette relaxes BEFORE the shark arrives

Jeanette and Marie from Makai enjoy the water despite the circling shark

Many coral heads are multi-storied structures reaching up 20’ or more with jagged holes randomly distributed that harbor various denizens. There's the dreaded Lionfish in all its finery, slowly drifting about as if they were the main attraction.  Lionfish released from aquariums are now taking over Caribbean reef ecosystems as they have no predators and they feed on small reef fish. Despite having poisonous spines, they are supposedly good eating, so many divers spear them, cut their spines off and eat them. We haven't reached that level of bravery, so we look elsewhere for a meal.

 

Hanging out with our friends on Makai at Buena Vista Cay in the Jumentos

Dinner!

We are the swooping birds of prey in this underwater world as we take deep breaths and plunge to the lower levels, grabbing hold of the coral and pulling our faces (while upside down) into holes to see who is home. Invariably, there are bigger fish who glance at this bizarre creature at their door before disappearing into a deeper cavern with a flick of a fin. Those that wait too long will become dinner.

Face to Face

I learn how to clean a fish

As I’ve done more of these cavern-to-cavern house searches, I’ve become bolder about how far my face will go into a hole. I really haven’t seen any threats other than the lionfish. A bigger risk is brushing against some fire coral if you’re not careful. Most coral is safe to touch, but there are a couple types that will dramatically alter your experience. This is the primary reason I, and others, wear a wetsuit. It isn’t the cold that will get you – it’s the coral.

After poking around for 30 seconds or so, we slowly ascend and prepare for another visit. Eventually, we’ll find something worthwhile to spear and then we pull the struggling fish/lobster to the surface and hold them high above us – seemingly a celebratory gesture, but actually to keep their struggles from summoning critters we don’t care much for – barracuda and sharks.

Once we’ve caught enough for a dinner or two, or we’ve scared away the big fish, we go visit another neighborhood (reef). We’ll keep this up all day, breaking for an hour or two at lunch time.

Sir Baron Lockhart

While down at an island, Buena Vista, we met a 70-year-old character named Edward Lockhart who was singlehandedly trying to build a farm/house on the main beach. He had cleared several acres and planted various trees and vegetables. His house is a ramshackle, one-story structure, and he is working to add another story. He lives in this 3-walled building while tending his 13 chickens, several peacocks, a turkey, various wild goats and a couple of dogs. He told us he was hoping to prove that the island belonged to the Lockharts through some Baron Lockhart a couple of centuries ago. While waiting for proof to arrive, he took a lease from the government and started his project some decades ago. His parents used to spend time on the island and he was supposedly born on it. Now, he’s the only person living there and is fighting off the rats and surviving.

I had asked Edward where the lobsters were, and later the afternoon, he climbed in our dinghy to show me his favorite spots. Unfortunately, the lobsters were absent, but we did learn a key fact. Lobsters avoid the sun, so they crawl deeper into their holes during the day. The best time to catch lobsters is early morning when they are still out on their ledges and chatting with one another. Sure enough, the next morning we easily caught lobsters where before we didn’t see any. I found 3 under a single ledge – so we gathered more lobsters in one hour than we had the previous day.

The shallow water of Buena Vista Cay

Reefs Ahoy 

It seems all the little fluorescent fish you see in aquariums are here in ample supply. They are darting about the coral heads, brilliant streaks of color that sparkle in the sun-lit water. There are “clouds” of golden grunts that hover over the coral and seamlessly blend in with their surroundings. During one reef exploration, a school of roughly 500 jack (about 1’ long) came through and we were in the middle of these silvery flashes of light as they coordinated their turns and pivots. It’s a constantly evolving dance of color and form as we move from reef to reef.

Cool little cave you can dinghy into at Flamingo Cay

A Meal Fit for Kings

After diving the reefs one day, we gathered on the beach at Flamingo Cay with three other cruising boats to grill our day's catch. The three other boats more than made up for our somewhat dismal results that day as there were more lobster and fish than we could eat - and we were hungry! It was a perfect ending to a wonderful trip to the forgotten isles of the Jumentos. We'll be back!

 

Chilling on the beach at Flamingo Cay

*Note: 10,000 mm = 32.8 feet