10 June 2012 BVI – Pelican Island, The Indians, The Bight, The Caves, Privateer Bay

10 June 2012 BVI – Pelican Island, The Indians, The Bight, The Caves, Privateer Bay

Just when I think the scene cannot get better here in the BVI’s, it somehow just does … over and over again, and today was one of those spectacular days for us.
We lifted anchor in beautiful surroundings at Benures Bay (Norman Island) and sailed the short distance past Pelican Island to ‘The Indians’.

The Indians consists of four distinct rocky outcrops which literally jut out of the water appearing as unusual ‘spikes’ lined up in a row … thick slabbed ‘plates’ that had been shifted, broken and thrust end side up by some monumental force before collapsing down into the sea again leaving just the tips sticking up out of the water. (I am not a geologist and am just surmising but you get the picture of it by me describing it this way).

Pelican Island is linked to The Indians by a shallow reef … the area is ‘spiritual’ (no other way to describe it) and forms part of National Parks Trust.

Anchoring is forbidden here and the National Parks Trust has put in place some mooring buoys which operate on a first come first serve basis, is only a day stop and overnight stays are forbidden.
At first I thought this was a bit extreme, but having spent much of the day there I have come to realise that this unique spot on our planet definitely benefits from the measures the authorities have put in place.

As we rounded the northern side of Pelican Island, I grabbed for my camera and started taking photos to share with family and friends … the various angles to the rocks jutting out of the water are too spectacular for words … Ana in the meanwhile was getting ready for the ‘tie up’ to the mooring ball.
As we approached The Indians, a yacht slipped off its mooring … the best mooring there as it was in close proximity to the rocks and dive site … the skipper on the yacht bowed to us making hand gestures as if to say he was making way especially for us to ‘have the best seat in the house’. I graciously saluted him and as we ‘brushed past each other’ exchanged a few words which made people laugh …

Safely tied to the mooring, Ana and I sat for a while to absorb the uniqueness of the place … the contrasts in colours … rocks of reddish orange and brown and water of shades of blues and greens …
A number of people were snorkelling and diving here, many floating on ‘foam sausage rolls’ (like those children play with in the pool).

I lowered the back step and donned with goggles and flippers snorkelled to the northern most tip … the water was crystal clear, the coral somewhat damaged but beautiful due to the various underwater ‘cliffs’ and jaggered rocks forming passageways through which to swim. I saw a number of parrot fish in the vicinity and many other species of fish as I dived down and swam sideways between rocks and coral heads … the water here in the BVI is spectacular in temperature so one does not feel the need to ever leave the water on account of temperature … in fact, I have never left the water anywhere here on account of temperature!

As I swam along I would scale the side of the rock cliffs diving down and positioning my body vertically against the cliff face no more than 300mm away … this way I could observe fish in nooks and crannies nibbling at the growth on the rocks whilst crabs were startled and withdrew into the cracks as much as possible.

As I swam on the eastern side of the rocks in a southerly direction, I passed the first rock ‘pinnacle’ and found myself swim into a huge underwater pool … kind of like an amphitheatre of sorts where fish were at play, I guess the depth to be about 10m or so (based on nothing but perception) … between the pinnacles (first and second) sea water rushed in, paused for a while and slowly retreated before repeating its cycle. I dived down, rolled over onto my back and looked up toward the surface and surrounding rock face … I wished I had more air and could just rest there for a while as I observed the fish and the bubbles from the ocean surge come and go … and then a few figures appeared above me, a father and his children snorkelling …  they waved at me as if to apologise for interrupting ‘my moment’ … I surfaced swimming as hard as possible as I was out of breath … exploding through the surface I gasped for air much to the laughter of others nearby!

Slowly I moved through shallower rocks and crevices past the second pinnacle … there I found an even deeper and more spectacular underwater pool … it buzzed with the activity of fish … my curiosity beckoned for a deep dive … I drew air and flippered my way down pinching my nose and blowing to clear my ears as I descended. I looked around at the rock walls and to my surprise noticed a tunnel through the rocks which led to another rock pool obviously lying to the south of this one.

As I surfaced for air, there were now a number of swimmers around and I called out to them asking if they knew of the tunnel through the rocks at the bottom of the ‘pool’ … of course this inspired them to dive down and check it out … they surfaced with huge excitement, some talking to each other before even having the chance to remove their snorkels … this attracted a number of others to join in.
I told some of the swimmers I was going to dive through the passageway and asked if they would keep an eye out for me to make sure I cleared it all the way through … they agreed, whilst some volunteered to swim to the other side and wait for me … and so I drew in as much air as I could … plunged down kicking hard on my flippers and down into the tunnel … my heart raced as I remembered my experience during my army training days where I caused havoc when suffering from claustrophobia in a tunnel they forced us to crawl through … my mind wanted to freeze as I faced my fear of claustrophobia and kicked all the harder! (I will explain the background to this at the end of this letter).

As I exited the tunnel and saw the beautiful rock pool I had entered (pool number three) I smiled. I surfaced with plenty of air in my lungs … this was a short tunnel but I was pleased to have done it!
As I floated face down on the surface breathing through my snorkel, I noticed swimmers from the other side now all swimming through the tunnel … young teenagers were excitedly showing each other the ‘cool’ sign underwater before surfacing and joining in with the excited chitter chatter of the others. I missed my children … I missed Ana’s children … all six of them we have between us … how I wished they could all be here to experience this … how I wished I could see the excitement on their faces in doing this …

I swam on along the cliff edge in a southerly direction to the southern most tip of the last of the rocks in ‘The Indians’ … I think there were some 9 or 10 teenagers all following me … an American father commented on how he was having to swim near me as this is how he would know where his kids were ;)

Swimming around the southern tip seemed to frighten a number of swimmers due to the sea surging onto the rocks there, and so they tended to give it a wide sweep. Initially I found myself doing this, but as I dived down and looked at the rock face from below I could see there was not as much movement as had appeared at the surface. Slowly I edged closer and closer until I was able to hold onto a rock right at the tip. Viewing the fish here was spectacular and I soon realised this was where most of the fish at The Indians were congregated. As I lay there holding onto a rock with my hands and with goggles in the water , I watched as fish after fish seemed to swim from around the corner (approaching mostly from the eastern side) and join the teams of other fish already there. Occasionally I would let go of the rock as the sea drew back from the cliff and dive down to get a closer look at these colourful creatures … one fish in particular was just as curious as I was and kept following me where ever I went … a strikingly beautiful black fish with luminous white lines bordering its body.

As I swam up the west side of these rocks, I looked down to the sea bed below … it was a lot deeper on this side, but the water was clear and I could observe scuba divers swimming along the bottom exploring the crevices. I drew breath and dived down almost reaching them … we greeted each other with a wave and then I kicked hard for the surface once more … I was intrigued with this dive, diving down the cliff face and floating back up along it observing all there was to see.
Back at Impi I excitedly told Ana how much I enjoyed the dive and wanted to do another after having lunch.

This time Ana joined me and we had a great time exploring The Indians together.
We had a few drinks on board Impi whilst watching the activity of divers coming and going … the picturesque views around this place are difficult to describe … as I mentioned earlier the place for me is almost ‘spiritual’ … a place where I want to instinctively thank God for His goodness, mercy and saving grace!

It was getting to that time of day where we needed to start considering where we would spend the evening, and so I had one last swim around the Indians before we slipped our lines off the mooring and headed for ‘The Bight’, a large bay on Norman Island and the largest anchorage … an anchorage known for being well protected from the elements … also well known for its ‘Part boat’ called the ‘Willy – T’.

The Willy-T is a large old vessel actually registered as the William Thornton, a floating restaurant named in honour of the ‘local’ architect of the US Capital building. The 93ft restaurant has a floating dock alongside to which to tie the dingy and step on board for lunch which is served from noon to 4:00pm or dinner from 6:30 to 10pm daily. The boat is known for its wild parties especially at night … very wild!

We observed another restaurant on shore … named the ‘Pirates Bight’ restaurant which is painted in bold white lettering on a bright red roof … happy hour is from 4 – 6pm and bustles with people! The restaurant is known for its West Indian cuisine which is served from 11am daily … is located on a beautiful beach overlooking the entire bay and in the direction of the setting sun.
As beautiful as the bay is, we found it rather disappointing that the ENTIRE bay is full of mooring balls leaving very little space for yachtsmen who want to anchor … having spent a while there between many yachts we decided rather to move around the corner to a more ‘mother nature area’ … Privateer Bay and pick up a mooring there.

As I steered Impi out of The Bight and toward the south west I knew we had done the right thing!
Being mindful of the reef cluster known as Treasure Point, we headed close to the shore for a mooring in Privateer Bay. ($30 for the night).

I was astonished and overcome by the beauty of the rock cliffs at the waters edge … a few yachts were moored on ‘day moorings’ just off the cliffs … the attraction … four huge caves and one can swim into them.

Ana and I picked up a mooring (18*18’.738N and 064*37’.480W), lowered the dingy into the water and set off for ‘The Caves’. It was late afternoon and swimming there would take from the available dive time before sun set!

At the entrance to The Caves we found a line onto which one can tie the dingy … which we duly did!
Of course, the book ‘Treasure Island’ makes much reference to these caves and buried treasure … a book written by Robert Louis Stevenson who had learned of the discovery of this treasure through an old letter of his grandfather.

We dived into the water and swam along the cliffs into the first cave.
Once again I wondered at how I would react given my fears of claustrophobia … this proved to be no problem at all as the snorkelling is so good and with a setting sun the caves are beautifully illuminated as they face west … I had absolutely no problem with the safety of swimming in these caves and both Ana and myself had a spectacular experience doing this in what is truly a magnificent place to be. As we looked up from the water we were amazed at the beauty of these magnificent cliffs which are a golden red in the setting sun … the beautiful huge cave entrances one can swim into … they are relatively shallow and one is able to stand in most places which makes the experience comforting!

Slowly we headed back for the dingy and back to Impi … excited but exhausted from a day packed with diving activity … we cracked a cap or two and watched the sun bid yet another day into history … these days just seem to be rushing bye all too fast and it makes one realise the importance of life and living it happily … we have made the right choice to do what we do … no regrets … this is life in the BVI and we are living the dream!

PS. For those who read my letters / blog … I thought to elaborate on the story which made me realise I suffer from claustrophobia!
When I was 18 years old, the law in South Africa was such that every white male was compelled to do 2 years military service … there were no excuses and there was no way out … we had to do it!
As a result of this being mandatory law … the officers in charge had huge powers and the ability to make life very difficult for one, so at the age of 18 we were terrified of these guys!

There I was, already identified as ‘Rooi Kop’ (the Afrikaans name for ‘read head’) and being carefully observed by these officers as potential trouble!
During our basic training of 3 months where we were ‘drilled into shape’, there I found myself one day, standing at the field where all sorts of obstacles were to be conquered in record time! I stood there within the formation of future soldiers … stood to attention whilst the officers marched up and down in front of us screaming abuse and assuring us that we would complete every discipline within the course in record time and if we thought we could not achieve this, not to worry as they would make sure we did!

I excelled in all disciplines until they made the mistake of sending us underground … a tunnel (pipe with red dusty sand in the bottom) which began at one section curving under the earth so it was not possible to see the exit. There we were, rucksacks loaded with rocks … I am a broad fella and as I squeezed into the entrance I could feel the dust from the trainee ahead being kicked up into my face, my shoulders and ruck sack hardly fitting between the tunnel walls and then a trainee behind me blocking my ability to back out!

I was not half way through when sheer terror kicked in … I felt I was going to die … the guy in front of me would not speed up despite my screaming and yelling for him to do so … the guy behind me was breathing down my backside … I kinda lost it and bit the guy ahead of me in the butt whilst kicking the poor guy behind me in the face.

Needless to say, this motivated the entire chain of individuals ahead of me in the tunnel to speed things up poste haste … the officers had never seen trainees exit a tunnel in such speed with the ‘fear of death’ written all over their face!

Two individuals were covered in blood, one with a broken nose and the other with huge holes in his pants and a bleeding butt!

I was sweating, my heart was pounding and at this stage my fear of death meant that no human being on earth could instil any sort of fear into me … I was ‘fear itself’ at that moment.
The officers screamed and yelled at me to find order … I ignored them at first and then yelled abuse back at them!

At this they threatened to court marshal me (send me to military prison) and then insisted I would immediately enter the tunnel again … this time with officers … one sergeant in front of me and a corporal behind me!

I was terrified but forced to take my place in the middle as we descended back into the tunnel.
There it was again … an overwhelming sense of fear gripped me as all became dark and dust was being kicked up into my face by the shuffles of the officer ahead of me. I really tried to compose myself but the officer in front of me slowed the pace down and try as I did I could not contain my fear … screaming and yelling I bit the officer in the butt a number of times and kicked the officer behind me in the face.

Other officers started laughing as their colleague ahead of me exploded out the other side of the tunnel screaming in pain and terror followed by me sweating, screaming, ranting and raving … and furthermore the officer behind me holding his face and screaming out vulgar profanity … a broken nose!

It was respectfully acknowledged and decided by all that I suffer from a severe form of claustrophobia and that no matter what the situation, I must never be forced to be in tight spaces again!

… For this reason, I have often wondered how I will react to activities such as under water diving … seems it is not a problem!