Union of the Birds, Ch. 3: Through the wall at CocoCay
Laura and I saw permit, mutton snapper, and other great game fish on our last trip to CocoCay (non-bastardized name: Little Stirrup Cay). So I really wanted to fish there this time. I did some research and found out that fishing there is legal according to the Bahamas, but is prohibited by Royal Caribbean, which owns the entire island. I also found some stories of folks just walking to more desolate parts of the island and getting away with it. Even those who were caught just had their gear seized temporarily and returned to them aboard the ship. That was a risk I was willing to take. So, I read the tips and was prepared to head to the SW side of the island to fish.
Wrench! Royal Caribbean has closed off about 2/3 of the island to any patrons as they further transform the island from natural tropical paradise into a theme park for the masses. There is a curtained fence cutting across the island, blocking access to the nature trail and to the far side of the island. Whatever. Better to ask forgiveness than permission.
I got off the boat just as soon as we were allowed to disembark and went to the south side of the island, hoping I could just swim around the fence terminus. I was the only person on the beach other than a lifeguard, so it would have been too blatant. Also, the other side of the fence was littered with sediment booms and construction equipment.
They didn't say anything and I caught a path paralleling the water further away from the bustle. I saw a large freight dock ahead, so stopped about halfway between the two and got down low below the tree roots. I sat on matted dry turtle grass and rigged my rods and then waded into the water. The bottom was sandy and the water was clear and a bit cool. I thought of the many people who wouldn't be getting in the water today. I was once that spoiled, living in Miami. Now, I'll take nearly any chance I can get to enjoy the sea!
I wasn't getting much action until I waded to within casting distance of a large shadowed patch, which signaled the presence of a seagrass bed. I got several bites on the bucktail jig at the ultimate reaches of my casts, but hooked nothing. I tried a few smaller lures, hoping the smaller hook might work better on the pecking fish, but couldn't cast far enough. The water was up to my armpits, so I could wade no further. I switched back to the bucktail and finally got a hookset. I walked backward toward the shore as I fought the fish. The blue runner wasn't very big, but I was using an ultralight travel rod, so it was a fun fight!
I waded back out into the water, but couldn't get back to the seagrass bed. That king tide from the day prior was arriving again and fast! Soon I was relegated to fishing from the shoreline rocks. I did that for a couple hours, got no bites, but still loved it. On the horizon to my right, I could see the heavy seas breaking over the reef. To my left, I could see the water slides breaking above the mangroves and knew that several thousand people were over there. I eventually gave up on fishing and sitting on a the soft turtle grass mats with turquoise waters lapping at the rocks near my feet. Under the rocks, I watched sharks -- I think juvenile lemon sharks -- cruise by. Every 10-15 minutes, one or two would come by, sometimes within feet of the rocks. An osprey came over the mangrove canopy, mere feet above my head.
Coordination with Mikie had been, uh, poor, regarding the plan for the day. He had a wild night and was not getting out of bed to join me that morning. In haste, I left my snorkeling gear with him or I would definitely have gone for a swim over the sand flats and seagrass beds with the sharks and other mostly undisturbed critters. But, alas, I had to head back to try to find him still in the room or on the island. Along the way, I checked out this floating tiki hut that was rocking out only with the motion of the waves, and spotted a pair of iguanas (picture of the same one twice, the other one scattered too quickly).
Finding Mikie proved futile. Two ships with over 7,000 passengers between them had unloaded on the island. He wasn't in the room, nor was he on the beaches that I roamed. Turns out he had gone snorkeling for a while and then met up with my family and was chilling with them by the pool. Eventually, I gave up and tried to go back to my private spot on the island, hoping the tide would relent and I could fish some more. Even if not, I could lay in the shade and enjoy the serenity.
I got 50 feet beyond the gate before I was turned around by a fella who overused the word "literally". So I rented some snorkeling gear and headed to the dedicated snorkeling area left a lot to be desired. It's basically a rock jetty and a "sunken ship", but no lush seagrass beds or coral reefs. Also, the rough seas breaking nearby had churned the water into a cloudy mess. How I wished I was back on the other side of the island! But, it still beat sitting at a desk or freezing back at home. I got a few pictures of some fish, but the turbidity prevented any clear shots.
The staff at the snorkeling rental booth seemed surprised that I'd rent gear so late in the day because I'd only have an hour or two to use it before heading back to the ship. I took it reaaaaally slow and easy and it was still more than enough time. When I came back to shore, the beaches were empty. I enjoyed that for a while before heading back to shower before dinner. I knew that we would be flying back home tomorrow, so I didn't want to rush this last bit.
Another night of fun with family and friends and then we headed to the airport the next morning. We encountered a lengthy delay and got home later than we had hoped, but Mikie cheered up quickly when he found this piano at the St. Louis airport. One of the janitors came shouted from the balcony above that she enjoyed his playing. It was a good cap to the trip.
Wrench! Royal Caribbean has closed off about 2/3 of the island to any patrons as they further transform the island from natural tropical paradise into a theme park for the masses. There is a curtained fence cutting across the island, blocking access to the nature trail and to the far side of the island. Whatever. Better to ask forgiveness than permission.
I got off the boat just as soon as we were allowed to disembark and went to the south side of the island, hoping I could just swim around the fence terminus. I was the only person on the beach other than a lifeguard, so it would have been too blatant. Also, the other side of the fence was littered with sediment booms and construction equipment.
I probed some gaps along the fence where vegetation replaced woven steel, but they all led to active construction crews. I ended up at the gate leading to staff quarters and the construction storage area and just kept walking through. As I encountered the first person walking towards me, I kept my eyes down and walked with purpose. They kept on going. Same with the next and the next. I realized that most were construction workers, not RC staff members and that they had more important things on their minds than me. The first intersection would have led me to active construction, so I carried on. A truck drove by and didn't bat an eye. I hit the second intersection and took it south to the water. There was a boat dock there and several men on the dock. Well, I came this far. Might as well keep chancing it!
They didn't say anything and I caught a path paralleling the water further away from the bustle. I saw a large freight dock ahead, so stopped about halfway between the two and got down low below the tree roots. I sat on matted dry turtle grass and rigged my rods and then waded into the water. The bottom was sandy and the water was clear and a bit cool. I thought of the many people who wouldn't be getting in the water today. I was once that spoiled, living in Miami. Now, I'll take nearly any chance I can get to enjoy the sea!
I wasn't getting much action until I waded to within casting distance of a large shadowed patch, which signaled the presence of a seagrass bed. I got several bites on the bucktail jig at the ultimate reaches of my casts, but hooked nothing. I tried a few smaller lures, hoping the smaller hook might work better on the pecking fish, but couldn't cast far enough. The water was up to my armpits, so I could wade no further. I switched back to the bucktail and finally got a hookset. I walked backward toward the shore as I fought the fish. The blue runner wasn't very big, but I was using an ultralight travel rod, so it was a fun fight!
I waded back out into the water, but couldn't get back to the seagrass bed. That king tide from the day prior was arriving again and fast! Soon I was relegated to fishing from the shoreline rocks. I did that for a couple hours, got no bites, but still loved it. On the horizon to my right, I could see the heavy seas breaking over the reef. To my left, I could see the water slides breaking above the mangroves and knew that several thousand people were over there. I eventually gave up on fishing and sitting on a the soft turtle grass mats with turquoise waters lapping at the rocks near my feet. Under the rocks, I watched sharks -- I think juvenile lemon sharks -- cruise by. Every 10-15 minutes, one or two would come by, sometimes within feet of the rocks. An osprey came over the mangrove canopy, mere feet above my head.
Coordination with Mikie had been, uh, poor, regarding the plan for the day. He had a wild night and was not getting out of bed to join me that morning. In haste, I left my snorkeling gear with him or I would definitely have gone for a swim over the sand flats and seagrass beds with the sharks and other mostly undisturbed critters. But, alas, I had to head back to try to find him still in the room or on the island. Along the way, I checked out this floating tiki hut that was rocking out only with the motion of the waves, and spotted a pair of iguanas (picture of the same one twice, the other one scattered too quickly).
Finding Mikie proved futile. Two ships with over 7,000 passengers between them had unloaded on the island. He wasn't in the room, nor was he on the beaches that I roamed. Turns out he had gone snorkeling for a while and then met up with my family and was chilling with them by the pool. Eventually, I gave up and tried to go back to my private spot on the island, hoping the tide would relent and I could fish some more. Even if not, I could lay in the shade and enjoy the serenity.
I got 50 feet beyond the gate before I was turned around by a fella who overused the word "literally". So I rented some snorkeling gear and headed to the dedicated snorkeling area left a lot to be desired. It's basically a rock jetty and a "sunken ship", but no lush seagrass beds or coral reefs. Also, the rough seas breaking nearby had churned the water into a cloudy mess. How I wished I was back on the other side of the island! But, it still beat sitting at a desk or freezing back at home. I got a few pictures of some fish, but the turbidity prevented any clear shots.
The staff at the snorkeling rental booth seemed surprised that I'd rent gear so late in the day because I'd only have an hour or two to use it before heading back to the ship. I took it reaaaaally slow and easy and it was still more than enough time. When I came back to shore, the beaches were empty. I enjoyed that for a while before heading back to shower before dinner. I knew that we would be flying back home tomorrow, so I didn't want to rush this last bit.
Another night of fun with family and friends and then we headed to the airport the next morning. We encountered a lengthy delay and got home later than we had hoped, but Mikie cheered up quickly when he found this piano at the St. Louis airport. One of the janitors came shouted from the balcony above that she enjoyed his playing. It was a good cap to the trip.
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