We Are Now Living Off the Sea!

While trolling from Man O' War Cay to Guana Cay, we passed right by the cut to the Atlantic.  Maggie was expecting that we would catch a fish on this run because this was where everyone else was catching them.  Sure enough we caught a 2 foot long Mutton Snapper on the hand line.

I reeled it in without out any trouble and brought it aboard.  I realized that if it were a larger fish, I would need a proper gaff to bring it aboard.  The girls (Maggie, Elsie and Kathy) and I were quite happy with the prospect of a fresh fish dinner that night; all that I had to do was kill and clean the snapper.

My cruiser's fishing guide said to whack the fish between the eyes with a club to stun it and then drive an ice pick into its brain to kill it.  Clubbing it took me back to some unpleasant childhood memories, so I tried another option.  We have been told on numerous occasions that pouring alcohol into a fish's gills will immobilize it, and rum is inexpensive down here ($7 a bottle), so the snapper had a little drink.  Elsie poured while I held the fish, who soundly zonked out.  By the time we dropped anchor, the snapper was no more, so it was back to the guide to learn how the clean the fish.

It was the first time that I ever filleted a fish,  and it was surprisingly easy, and, again, no barfing!  That snapper fed 7 people that night and 4 of us for lunch the next day.  It was delicious.

Now we never move the boat without casting the line out.

I made a gaff to bring in the big ones - it's medieval but effective.

JUNK-A-NOO, JUNK-A-NOO everybody!!!

Shakin' her tailfeathers....

For fun  (OK for my fun) read the title again, out loud -  phonetically  Junk- A -Newwwww and bounce around in a circle at the same time hehehehe - thanks.

She is so cute

The other Saturday night found Branko and I sitting on a curb drinking a beer, watching the hi-jinx of the crowd and waiting for the parade to begin - it was to start at 8:00pm it was now 9:00-9:30ish.  Alas I am still burdened by my North American time clock and expectations.   A girl,  just starting to walk was entertaining us with her dance moves as her sister tossed gunpowder wrapped in tissue on the street to hear it 'pop' - similar to our days when we threw those red firecrackers at each other and thought is was funny.   Johnny,  I still remember your story of walking around with your margarine container of firecrackers with a lit cigarette that your mom gave you, not to smoke but to light the crackers -  oh those were the days!   Anyways,  this was kind of the same but I think, less dangerous.   


The crowd was made up of all age groups,  strutting down the street in their finest attire trying to capture the eyes of whomever....the police were out in full force (the first time we have actually seen any) parading down the street with their billy clubs swinging.  Girls in high heels, so high that they wobbled and tottered, very cute but I knew, were in pain.   The boys had showered and applied,  I don't know about a gallon of aftershave.   Families, mothers, fathers, cousins, all ages of children and a few tourists made up the remaining crowd.

Part of the 1st float

Bahamian style food and cheap beer was available - rounding off the festive air of Junkanoo.


Bahamas Junkanoo Tradition, depending upon who is asked got started by John Canoe, a legendary West African Prince, who outwitted the English and became a local hero; and others suspect it comes from the French ‘gens inconnus,’ which translates as 'unknown' or 'masked people'.


The most popular belief, however, is that it developed from the days of slavery. The influx of Loyalists in the late 18th Century brought many enslaved people who were given three days off at Christmas, which they celebrated by singing and dancing in colourful masks, travelling from house to house, often on stilts. Junkanoo nearly vanished after slavery was abolished, but is still alive and well in Marsh Harbour..

One person carried this float

Dancers around the float

We finally got to see, I mean hear the parade and snapped picture after picture as they danced by.   Thinking that was the end, after 15-20 minutes,  we were told no, its the first group with more following - yikes it was already past 11:00!  What I really liked was each group created its own music,  with drums, tuba's and horns,  no float bearing huge speakers that shake and shout noise, that once was music.   


The costumes, fantastic - have a look and let us know what you think.       Maggie              

Drum section

Horn section

2nd Group

Tailfeather girl

Zebra, tiger,lions and muscle bound guy - on this float

Whirling dervish

First Kill!

Lobsters everywhere are no longer safe.  A few days ago I went snorkeling with Gerry from FREE SPIRIT and Alan from CIVIL TWILIGHT to hunt the elusive lobster.  We were going to check out a couple of the boys' favorite hunting grounds, which I would only be able to reveal under penalty of death, for, you see, the location of hunting grounds are a closely guarded secret, much like the access code to nuclear weapons would be.

I have been trying to make my first kill for some time now and it got to the point where Gerry and Alan were joking that they might have to catch one for me and hold it up by its antennae in order for me to take the shot.  So there was a lot riding on this expedition -  my pride and their patience.

The first opportunity came as we were diving on a reef.  Alan spotted a nice lobster sitting in a hole, wide open to an easy shot from above.  Later, Alan said "It doesn't get much easier than that".  I carefully positioned myself and tensioned the surgical tubing that launches the pole spear.  I took careful aim, released the spear and watched in horror as the point glanced off the lobster's head and he backed up deeper into the hole and out of sight.  I noticed the look of disbelief registered on Al's face - even underwater with a mask on and breathing through a snorkel.  I had failed to apply enough tension on the pole spear, a mistake I would not make again.  Lobsters:1; Me:0.

That one never got away, though, because the boys quickly teamed up with Gerry rousting the lobster out of his hiding spot and Alan applying the coup de grace.  It was a scene played out since the days when early man was just making his way out of the trees, and it was hilarious.

We never saw another lobster there and Gerry was determined to get one, so he went over to another site that he knew of which is also Top Secret.  I was feeling cold and dejected, so I almost didn't go but changed my mind - I wasn't going to give up that easily.  Gerry kindly offered me the opportunity to search the easy spot.  It was a shipwreck that formed a ledge around the hull on the outside that was the easy spot.  Inside the hull was a tangle of metal and that was where Gerry got a couple.  As for me, I cruised the ledge in a shark-like manner, all slow and with deadly purpose, when I spotted one curled up having a snooze under the ledge.  As I took a deep breath, I tensioned the pole spear to the breaking point and moved in for the kill.  I don't know if the lobster sensed eternity looming, but I saw his antenna twitch.  Whether it was a lobster dream or a primal response to impending doom, we will never know because I released the spear and it boiled the water on its fateful way to its appointment with the lobster's head.  Me:1; Lobsters:1.

Like Poseidon, I broke the surface spear in hand with the lobster in its final death throes impaled on it.  I was taking it back to the dinghy where Al was waiting (he had already caught two).  In a scene reminiscent of a lion cub bringing home his first antelope, I handed my prey up to Al who ceremoniously removed it from the spear and dumped it in the bucket.  He may not admit it, but I am pretty sure he had a tear in his eye.

Novice no more; I am now an apprentice.  And we will be having lobster pizza when Elsie and Kathy come to visit.

Get in my belly!

Branko