Friday Tiny Babies in a Big Blue Sea.

First thing this morning we moved around the corner to the southern shore of Isle de Ronde. This stretch of the island is about half the length of the western side we’ve been frequenting, but it’s got some interesting features, most notably a small, part time fishing community of about 4 guys and a dog, a nursery reef and two dramatic points of land at which the current and swell really put on a show.

We dropped anchor just outside the fish shack beach to the dog barking (tail wagging). We jumped in for a swim against the current to the point, with the idea that we would cruise home. The first thing we noticed here was the incredible clarity of the water - just gin clear to 30 or 40 feet deep. Beautiful. We approached the beach and the hopeful pup (sorry pup not today), and cruised east along the rocky reef. Stunningly healthy coral just LOADED with fish of all sizes - a massive school of at least 3 or 4 size classes, and lots and lots of babies. Clusters of baby tangs, wrasses, baby damsels and blennies. Under some of the ledges we could see swarming masses of what looked like gnats - these are newly hatched fish, fresh from eggs and getting to know their neighborhood. So cute, so new, so hopeful. We cruised on among the babies who seemed to tolerate our bobbing and diving and bubble blowing as we got our faces close to their schools. This stretch of swim goes from reef to beautiful white sand bottom to rock and eventually the cliff of the point. At the point, the water was just huge. Enormous mountains of sea crashing around the promontory rocks in great explosions of white foam and spray. We could feel the pull of it even 25 yards away. We danced on the edge of it a bit, body surfing it, letting it elevate and drop us. The power of it made me feel small in a way I quite like - I love knowing I’m not in charge in the ocean, that I am one teeny tiny part of something so vast. When I’m in water, I feel like I’ve returned to my source. And so I love to ride those waves and feel the power of them vibrate to my core.

We finished our fun in the swell and made our way back across the nursery grounds of the reef and eventually back to our boat. We must have bobbed around and played behind the boat for an extra 45 minutes. Diving, shooting to the surface, trying to blow air rings, just playing like the babies we are in this big blue sea. What a wonderfully unselfconscious joy.

Waterlogged, we finally climbed aboard and hunkered down for our final sail downwind back to mainland Grenada. It flew by as the wind and current pushed us along. 

Our final location for our last swim was the bay just south of Grenada’s famous underwater sculpture park. We tucked into shelter with a bunch of other boats, and commented on how strange it feels to be among other people after our time spent in remote bays. Before heading off on our swim, I asked my swimmers to jump from the side of the boat for a picture concept I was going for. They each obliged with abandon and I love the result.

I splashed in with them and we made for the next bay to play among the submerged statues. Janet joined us and swam even further than her record earlier this week, and did so at a pretty decent pace. We dove down to be near the sculptures and posed for pictures and generally enjoyed playing tourist for a time. 

We returned to the boat as a tight pack, and reluctantly climbed aboard and battened down the hatches for our final sail to port.

From there, the night has been a blur - amazing dinner and dessert, slideshow of our week, so many laughs and discussions about the things we have seen and the things we hope to see one day. The swims we did, and the swims we all hope to have in our futures. This group is tight, and the evening rambled on till nearly midnight.

I’m tucked in my berth on laptop now, reveling in a week well swum and a pack of new friends like family. I love when SV alums that I know finally get to meet each other. I love when they get to know and love each other as well as I know and love each of them. I love when someone new comes to us, and leaves feeling like they have found their people, found their place, found themselves.

What a gift to be a guide, and in particular, in the sea. It’s big and bouncy and definitely in charge, and the best I can do is to guide you in and ask you to let go. I promise, I will always have you. If you say yes, I promise you will go home better.

Thank you Miriam, Celine, Kendra, Sam and Janet, for saying yes and jumping in with us. And thank you to the best crew a guide could hope for.

Be well my friends, until we swim and play again.

Love,

Heather

Ps. One more week here for me. I’ll be photographing a new group of swimmers, but I’ll turn the writing over to my partner, Hopper. Stay tuned for whatever adventures will come.