Tales from Paradise Pt. 4

  "Paradise is a state of mind..."

   Alright, admittedly this is a “fluff” piece, a descriptive narration indulging in my reminiscing; but it’s also a reminder that we need to stop and “smell the roses” once in a while, to appreciate and enjoy the highlights in our life that are ever so sporadically dispersed throughout the hustle and bustle of daily living; epic days that are few, and far between but bring joy and contentment when they do occur. Days that make life worth living, and then some…

  It was recently while sitting in my office after an exceptionally trying and frustrating day that I recalled this memory; I relived it and realized that this is the “Yin and Yang” of life; we can’t have the remarkable, extraordinary experiences without the mediocre, frustrating challenges, (or so our perception would have us believe they are negative). This begs the question;

  Would you rather have “normal”, uneventful, even keeled days, every day, where nothing exciting happens? Nothing remarkable, no surprises, regardless if they’re “negative” or “positive”? Every day the same emotional, psychological, physical, spiritual, etc. barometer?

  Or…

   Would you rather have the “highs” and “lows” of negatives and positives, both planned and foreseen as well as those “surprises” that always catch us off guard, those issues and challenges that we perceive as “negative” aspects in our life?

  Personally I would opt for the latter; life would be very boring otherwise. Having said that however I don’t think that we really have a choice as this is what life is and one needs to accept, and embrace it. “The “Yin and Yang” of life go hand in hand and you cannot have one without the other; for every “high” there is a “low”, they are balanced so remember that every time you’re having a “bad” day, there will always be the “good” day to balance it out. (and vice versa). Sitting in my office reminiscing on this particular day was the perfect example, it “balanced” me after my “unbalanced” day and although it was just a memory it was still an integral part of me, an aspect that I have carried, and will continue to carry, throughout my life. An experience, amongst many others, that I can draw upon to balance any “negative” day that I may encounter.

  I work hard, I play hard and I thoroughly enjoy both equally, I don’t think I could have one without the other. Could this be considered as an example of Yin and Yang?

  I will take any “bad” day that comes at me, deal with it, persevere through it with a smile on my face knowing that I will experience those “epic” days to make up for it, like the one I’m about to recount…

  This takes place a few years ago when I was living in the Cayman Islands.

  Amongst other attractions that Cayman has to offer it is a fantastic place to windsurf. It’s not windy all of the time, the calm days are ideal for SCUBA diving that Cayman is famous for, but when it blows it is world class. Mostly speed/slalom sailing, there is also bump & jump and some great wave sailing during tropical storms and nor ’westers. The prevailing trade winds, ENE, average 15 to 25 knots, (when it’s blowing), but can get much higher on occasion, needless to say that hurricane sailing is quite the adrenaline rush.

   Grand Cayman is actually quite small, 22 miles long, 8 miles wide at its widest point, and the highest point is 60 feet above sea level. Getting to a good sailing spot regardless of wind direction and conditions is literally a matter of minutes. The real geographical marvel of Cayman is “The Wall” which is the drop off just offshore where the water depth reaches 5,000 ft., straight down, around the whole island, it’s a wonder there’s an island at all considering how little is above water. "The Wall" can be clearly seen on these pictures as the “Deep Blue”.

      I lived in Boatswain Bay, West Bay, that has several great sailing spots within 10 minutes of my house.

   It was my first day off after being “balls to the wall”, (figuratively speaking), in the kitchen for a grueling two weeks, (wow does time ever fly by when you’re having fun), and usually I would sleep in but the forecast was calling for 20 knot winds so when I unconsciously heard the wind whistling through the palm trees outside my window at 9 in the morning I was up, dressed, (shorts, T-shirt, and flip flops), and in my already loaded up car before I was even awake.

  I knew that my friends would probably go to Morgan’s Harbor, a popular sailing launch in North Sound, but I was in the mood for some long reach speed sailing on the open ocean, as well as practice my jibing for an upcoming race in a couple of weeks so I decided on Boggy Sand Road. I arrived at Nautilus Cottage 10 minutes later, a quaint tourist rental cottage right on the beach that my mother always stayed at when she visited, and it was vacant so I parked there.  I hit the beach and surveyed the water.

 Boggy Sand Road is at the North Western tip of 7 Mile Beach, the wind is cross/offshore here so a little tricky to gauge it until you actually get out there. There was no wind on the beach, it was hot but I could see the first signs of gusts about 50 yds. offshore with a defined wind line about 150 yds. out and steady whitecaps about 200 yds. out, right at the “Wall” which is clearly visible due to the dramatic color change in the water. The wind report from Cayman Windsurfing out at East End, where the wind is straight onshore, was something like, “there’s whitecaps in my coffee cup!”; a good 25 knots; It was windy.

  I unloaded my 8’10” carbon fiber/epoxy slalom board from the car and dropped it on the beach, I rigged a 5.2 m2 camber induced RAF, (“rotating asymmetrical foil”), race sail, got it all assembled and sat on the hot sand with my water bottle for a few minutes to observe, gather my thoughts, and wake up. It was a beautiful day, clear and hot, I was sweating from the exertion of rigging up and the heat radiating from the sand. The crystal clear sea in front of me was very enticing. I took my shirt off, put my harness on, tightened the strap on my Oakley’s, lifted my rig and waded into the balmy 74 degree water.

 The ocean was refreshing and energizing, it washed away my sweat and relieved the oppressive heat that I was feeling, my toes curled in the soft sand beneath and I saw several Pompano playfully darting around.  When I was waist deep I began swimming out using the sail as a wing in the light breeze until I got out far enough to catch the real wind. Although my board was buoyant and would float it was not large enough to support my 200 lbs, I needed the power of the wind to lift me and propel the board to planing speed.

     I enjoyed the swim, along with unloading the car and rigging the sail, it completed my warm up; I could feel my body and muscles stretching with every kick of my legs, my hands on the boom trimming the sail. As I got further out I could feel the wind strengthening, increasing the lift of the sail, and pulling more and more of my weight, until finally I was irresistibly pulled up by the wind. Once I was out of the water, feet planted on the board it took off like a thoroughbred under the whip.

    I slid my feet into the snug neoprene footstraps, the comfortable dual density “Padz” under my feet offered me a cushion from the constant pounding of board against chop and a positive feel of the board, the board was now an extension of my feet and legs. I brought the boom down and aft and hooked my seat harness into the harness lines, the sail was now carrying my total body weight, my arms just needed for adjustments and steering, my feet were now “neutral”, no weight on them at all, free to trim, tune, and steer the board. The rig and I were totally integrated now, we were “One”; I sat down, “Closed the gap”, tipped my ankle slightly to dig the leeward rail in and “Boom!” the turbocharger kicked in; I took off!. The board, now planing, was almost completely out of the water, I was riding the fin, (12½“slalom blade). The rush of acceleration I felt must be what a pilot of a stealth fighter feels on take-off.

I was “in the groove” now, body and rig working together. What little bit of board that was in the water was chattering on the small chop as I skimmed over it, the wind was howling all around. I could see through the clear turquoise blue water around me, the bottom 80 feet below flashing by. The wall was approaching quickly, the distinct Deep Blue very easy to see; I was racing towards the abyss. In the blink of an eye I was over it, past the point of no return now, I was in the "Deep Blue". I felt a touch of vertigo at the thought of the 5,000 ft. drop below me.

  I settled into a screaming beam reach, my feet and legs lightly maneuvering the board around the chop, the swells increasing in size as I got further offshore, my arms and body constantly fine tuning the rig to squeeze out as much speed as I could. The board is airborne more often than not. After 15 minutes I jibed on the face of a large swell and headed back towards 7 Mile beach. I was already a few miles offshore so the island was now a mere line on the horizon actually disappearing when I was at the bottom of a trough, appearing again when I hit the top of a swell; I was alone, in the middle of the ocean. I pinched upwind to head further south of my starting point at Boggy Sand Rd and prepare for a broad reach down to Georgetown, the capitol.

  Within minutes I could see the turquoise blue shallows approaching, the hotels and resorts along the beach becoming identifiable. I pinched upwind hard and beat towards the Holiday Inn. I crossed the threshold of the Wall into the light blue shallows; I jibed and started my broad reach towards Georgetown, a quick run parallel to the beach right along the edge of the wall.

  It was a busy day for Cayman, 2 cruise ships in the harbour, a lot of pleasure boats, dive boats, glass bottom boats, submarines, tours, etc. all cruising around the Georgetown area, too much traffic for my liking so I made one pass, turned around and headed back, preferring the solitude of North West Point. Another screaming reach parallel to 7 Mile beach had me back up there in 10 minutes, I’m sure I hit 30 knots more than a few times.

     (The world speed record for windsurfing is 53.27 knots=61.3 mph=98.6 kph. When I was at the Columbia River Gorge, Washington/Oregon State, (a windsurfing Mecca), on a vacation, I clocked 35.45 knots at a speed trial over a 300 meter course there.)

  I was having a great session; The wind was howling, the swell coming around Northwest point was smooth and consistent, great for jumping and jibing. I noticed a fairly large set heading my way so I prepared myself to jump the last one of the set, generally the largest, when suddenly the water around me erupted. I had sailed over and surprised a large school of flying fish, like a stealth fighter I had given them no warning of my approach until I was right on top of them. I was immediately surrounded by fish now, hundreds of them flying through the air, some very close with several hitting my sail. Their activity increased as it seemed that for every one that landed back in the water 2 more would jump out, it was an expanding cloud of fish everywhere, many getting incredible height from the strong gusty wind and flying over the top of my rig, over 20’.

  I still had my eye on that large swell; I anticipated the timing, maneuvered over the chop and swells in front of it so I could pick up as much speed as possible. It was forming into a perfect ¼ pipe, like you would find in any skate park or snowboard slope. I picked my line up the smooth face, bent my knees, pointed the nose to the sky; Takeoff! I was soaring through the air really feeling like a fighter pilot at this point, I flattened the board out in the air, brought the sail over me utilizing it as a wing to extend my hang time... and time stopped…

  I was flying! I was flying with fish!

   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gAjzH0vWSIA  

  I clearly remember looking over at a fairly large flying fish, (easily 12 inches), that was gliding close to me, we made eye contact and I thought, “Wow, you’re not in your natural environment are you?” The surprised look on his face conveyed his thought to me of something like, “Dude! You’re not in your natural environment are you?” And with that thought my body convulsed with laughter; and with that thought time started flowing again. I was laughing so hard I missed my landing and crashed with a huge splash. I relaxed and surrendered myself as the nurturing ocean engulfed me in its deep blue.

  I relaxed totally, allowing my body to just rest after the intense dynamic tension it was just experiencing, abandoning myself to my fate, the pressure of the heavy ocean around me was grounding and therapeutic. I opened my eyes and peered into the deep blue. It was absolutely quiet, no sounds of the wind or the chatter of my board surfing over the chop, absolute silence.  While there were hundreds of fish above the surface flying through the air there were thousands below the surface, racing all around me, I was definitely out of my natural environment but it was comforting, it was serene, in the extreme. I was immersed in a pure sapphire world, the bright sun shining through the depths, the rays reflecting off of the fish around me creating thousands of sparkles.

     I could feel the swells above rhythmically rocking me as they swept overhead; I felt like a fetus still in the womb, the mother gently undulating in a rocking chair. My body relaxed even more, then comatose, and then it was gone, I was “out of body”. The Deep Blue had absorbed me leaving only a spark of awareness amongst the thousands of other sparkles of light that surrounded me.

  The contrast was astounding, in one moment every muscle in my body was working/playing, all my senses active, my actions dynamic in the extreme, pure adrenaline rush;

  And in the next moment I was static, still, non-existent, nirvana, "no mind", "no body"....

  I wanted to stay, I didn’t want to go, I wanted this moment to last forever…

  But I had to breathe…

  I broke the surface to the bright sun, the wind blowing, the ocean alive around me and was promptly and unceremoniously pelted in the neck by one of my new found flying friends. Ouch! That was going to leave a mark. (And it did, you can imagine trying to explain that “characteristic” blemish/mark/bruise/Hickey on my neck to my friends). Talk about a rude awakening back to reality.

   Another extreme contrast; one moment I was out of body in the Deep Blue and the next I'd landed back in reality into a 3 stooges slapstick comedy; Monty Python's "Fish Slap Dance" came to my mind which caused me to burst into more laughter.

   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i9SSOWORzw4

      The fish activity was subsiding although there were still a few flying around, occasionally a new one popping up but the main school was moving on elsewhere. I swam over to my board and rig, grabbed a footstrap, rolled onto my back and just floated for a few minutes, enjoying the motion of the swell rocking me up and down, basking in the bright hot sun reveling in the perfection of this moment; my mind was adrift in a sea of thoughts and emotions as my body was adrift in the open ocean...

   Feeling re-charged I water-started back up and continued sailing. I’d been out for quite a few hours so I worked my way back to Nautilus Cottage for a break.

   After a few reaches I sailed up to Boggy Sand Rd. dropped my rig on the beach, rinsed off with the outdoor shower at the cottage and took advantage of the empty hammock slung underneath the shade of a huge Mangrove tree there. I was quiet, no thoughts, no wants, no desires. My body "felt happy", the nurturing ocean, warm sunshine, the heavy duty physical activity and adrenaline rush was the perfect therapy to wash away the last 2 weeks I had spent in the kitchen.

   I laid there for a while, internally silent, just enjoying the moment, enjoying the day,enjoying this life; looking out at the sea, watching the sun reflecting off of the crystal blue water. There were a few dive boats and other recreational craft out on the water, Frigate birds soaring high taking advantage of the fresh breeze, Cicadas singing loudly in the tall Casuarina trees around me, the hammock gently swinging back and forth…

  And I promptly fell asleep.

      -     Shorts, sunglasses with band/croakies - $150

      -     Board and sail daily rental, (with harness) - $80 (Unless you own your               own gear which is a very good investment if you're somewhere that                 you can sail year round)

        The value of taking a “day off”, spending it at the beach, in the                  ocean; Disconnecting from the day to day grind and re-connecting with the world  around us, of taking a “me” day, of doing whatever it is that you enjoy doing? 

                                                                      Priceless! 

                                              The experience of flying with fish?

                                             Absolutely Priceless!

                                             Happy Cooking Everyone!