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The Wild easT
The next day I’m diving at the east end, the less-developed —
and my preferred — part of the island. We start off at
Jack
McKenny’s Canyons
, a dramatic wall site not five minutes
from the dive shop by boat. Cayman is famed for beautiful
blue water and dramatic walls, but this site adds a twist. The
top of the wall is cut with deep canyons, meaning there is
three times the vertical surface to enjoy. But the highlight
of this dive is a pair of Caribbean reef sharks that circle our
group. They usually keep their distance, but by hiding behind
some seafans I am rewarded with a close pass. Reef sharks,
while not as common as on Little Cayman, are seen here
more frequently than they were 10 years ago.
For our second dive we sample the classic, three-
dimensional delight that is
Snapper Hole
. Far from being
just one hole, the reef here is like a chunk of Swiss cheese.
It’s three dives in one: caverns and canyons, a mini wall from
15 to 65 feet and a shallow reef top teeming with fish. In the
summer months, the whole lot can be completely immersed
in a monstrous school of silversides, with predatory jacks and
tarpon boring holes through the massed, shimmering fish.
In the afternoon I take the unusual step of staying inside
the fringing reef. I join an open-water class for a dive on
Sunset Reef
, a cluster of coral pinnacles in the East End
Sound. The site is commonly used for training and night
dives as the water is only 20 feet deep, but I’ve heard stories
about weird creatures spotted here.
The site is far from the most picturesque on the island,
but the marine life doesn’t care — it is here in abundance.
A real treasure is the usually rare golden roughhead blenny;
we find them in remarkable numbers. We also find a few
pike blennies, and then my buddy calls me over to a sea
cucumber. Crawling across its body is a tiny bumblebee
shrimp, a first for me in Cayman. We see four other species
of common shrimps and three types of mantis shrimps,
including an impressive spearing mantis. Although we don’t
spot any, seahorses are also known to show up here.
a TradiTion of innovaTion
While the island’s varied topography plays its part, Grand
Cayman’s spectacular diversity of diving owes much to its
forward-thinking dive industry. Ever since Bob Soto opened
his recreational dive center in 1957, diving has been big
business, with centers keen to adopt — and often setting
— the latest trends. For several years I dived nitrox in
Grand Cayman when it just wasn’t available anywhere else I
traveled. Today there is excellent support for technical and
rebreather diving, and there are even professional freediving
courses. Divers come here for all levels of training. And dive
centers continue to innovate: A new trend is the fluorescent
night dive, in which each diver is given his own UV light to
see corals, anemones and other critters glowing in the dark.
shore Thing
The next day I head west again to enjoy more shore diving.
While the dives are not as dramatic as the sites accessed by boat,
I love the chance to dive at my own pace and hang out with
friends. We’re just south of George Town at
Sunset House
Reef
, where the combination of sea, dive shop, bar and parking
all within a few feet is irresistible. We meet for an afternoon
dive, and despite the allure of the mermaid statue Amphitrite,
our main focus is a dusk dive to observe fish behavior. We jump
in about 45 minutes before sundown and start exploring the
edge of the now-gloomy reef. Fish are moving with purpose,
and soon we find a harem of spawning rock beauties.
A male, larger than the three females, races frantically
between them, displaying and making tight circles around
each. Finally a female, clearly swollen with eggs, accepts his
advances, and they rise together into the water column —
her leading and him nuzzling her belly with his snout. She
releases her eggs, and he fertilizes. It’s a fantastic sight.
We’re also on the lookout for hamlets. These hand-
sized, grouper-like fish are rather unusual in that they are
simultaneous hermaphrodites. Many reef fish change sex during
their lives, but hamlets remain sexually active as both male and
females. We hope to glimpse their rather unusual mating ritual,
in which they go in for “a little and often,” taking turns playing
each sexual role. I soon spot a pair putting on an exemplary
performance. It always lifts my heart to see marine animals
reproducing; it fills me with hope for their future in spite of all
the threats facing ocean ecosystems worldwide.
someThing for TomorroW
This year the Cayman Islands celebrate 25 years of marine
parks. As strange as it sounds now, designating marine
protected areas was considered a bold move in 1987. Even
simple factors such as the installation of mooring balls have
saved the reefs from untold anchor damage. Grand Cayman’s
reefs can no longer be considered untouched, but progressive
policies have insulated them from the detrimental effects of
dive traffic, population growth and development on land.
The Cayman Islands are proud of their marine heritage,
as you might expect from a nation with the motto “He hath
founded it upon the seas,” and marine conservation here means
much more than “paper parks.” This year, for example, grouper
fisheries were closed during mating aggregations to give stocks
a chance to recover. At
Stingray City
, refined regulations have
arisen to minimize negative impacts and promote the positive
aspects of thousands of people having close encounters with
marine animals each month.
Like many other Caribbean islands, Grand Cayman is
now dealing with the problem of invasive lionfish. Most
dive centers run lionfish-culling dives, and I joined a regular
Thursday afternoon outing at East End. I happened to be on
the dive in which the first lionfish, a juvenile, was spotted
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SPRING 2012