Island Kids

I love our island children.

I don't have children of my own (and my beau's children are grown).  So I get my "kid fix" from spending time with the local island kids.  Due to the small size of the community and the relaxed, interactive, island lifestyle, it is my pleasure to see these children almost every day - far more often than I was able to see cousins or friend's children in the hectic, far-flung States.

Beau and I brought all the kids over for an impromptu cookout and swim one weekend afternoon last fall.

One of the benefits of living on this small island is the tight sense of community.  With fewer than 100 full-time residents, and a delightful tangle of family ties amongst all the cousins and aunts and uncles, the community knows one another well and spends lots of time together.  Of the current residents, 17 are school-aged children - including only three girls at the moment! 

The school.

The island boasts a one-room schoolhouse, with live-in government teachers, where it educates children from Kindergarten through Grade 8.  After that, children must go to Nassau or another island for high school.  Sometimes families move with their children.  More often, during those high school years, our local children live with an aunt or cousin or other family member already living in that location.

My beau also loves children, and he is especially fond of these island children since many of them are his family or god-children or simply the future of this special island.  Beau and I, along with another couple, started a local kids' camp last summer.  Well into our second summer now, we are all having a ball!  All of the local school kids participate, along with numerous volunteer adults, and we meet every Thursday and Saturday during the summer months.  

Snorkeling one Saturday.

The purpose of the camp is to pass on traditional island skills in the areas of swimming, boating, sailing, fishing, free-diving, spear-fishing and nature skills, while subtly encouraging positive character development that has made this island special:  manners, discipline, respect for elders and the community, island preservation, work ethic, etc.

Boat excursion.

These island children share many similarities with American and most other children, in my experience.  They love to laugh, play, giggle, get into innocent mischief, express wonder at new things, and they bring an energy and zest for life to everything they do.

This crew just won a champion junior sailing race.  Posing here for a "serious" picture.

And a "silly" picture.

And now the CHAMPION picture!

However, the island children also seem a little different to me than many other children - in a good way. As a whole,  island kids are unfailingly polite, demonstrate respect for their elders, answer with "yes ma'am" and the like, do not bully their peers (of course, disagreements and bickering are unavoidable), and play tirelessly outdoors during all of their free time.  

I suspect that much of this has to do with the small-town atmosphere and values and family relations, which small towns in the U.S. and other countries may still continue to enjoy.  Certainly the freedom that comes with living in a small, safe place enables our local kids to run loose for hours on end in a way that City kids just can't enjoy.

Playing on one of the beaches.

It definitely takes a village to raise a child, and our local village embraces that concept.  Any adult, including myself now, will reprimand or correct any child observed being rude or unruly or doing something unsafe.  The children are quick to respond.  They're also quick to run up to us with greetings ("Good afternoon!"), hugs and whatever news is most exciting in their day.

Gardening session in our camp - we planted watermelons and pumpkins.  Fingers crossed for a good harvest!

Unfortunately, the inevitable path of "progress" brings changes to children here, too.  Computers, video games and modern technology demand the attention of many of the children - it's not just fishing and swimming anymore.  Exposure to brand names and popular trends through television and the internet brings the focus on such material things to the island in ways we didn't see a couple decades ago.  Like elsewhere in the world, values slowly change as a result.  As much as possible (thus, the kids camp), we hope to preserve the innocence of our children and their appreciation for island life.

Meanwhile, I just enjoy them every single day.

One of the boys diving down to explore on a snorkel excursion.

I donned a life jacket to help a nervous swimmer snorkel an underwater cave.  A great accomplishment for him!

Our tiny James Bond.

Beau returning with older boys from a spear-fishing excursion.

Beach picnic lunch last weekend, younger kids are still swimming in the background.

Kids cleaning their fish after a successful mission.

Moment of Zen with the sharks by the fish-cleaning bench.

Tired twins heading home with their spears, snorkel gear and bag of freshly caught and cleaned fish!

A Perfect Day (Fishing, Snorkeling, Conch Salad)

A few weekends ago, I enjoyed A Perfect Day.

It was a weekend morning and absolutely beautiful!

Morning sky.

Regatta Photo Tour

My Dearest Better Lifers, thanks for your patience as I get caught up after a whirlwind regatta!

As you know, I've had Regatta Fever and have been posting Champion Sailboat Journals, Sailing Videos Clips and more.  Finally, I have sifted through more than 600 personal photographs of the race week to cull them to a far-more-manageable 59 to share with you.  These pics capture the essence of an incredible week.  Of course, NOTHING can convey the excitement, adrenaline, pride and sheer pleasure of being there, but I hope to give you a taste.

Just one picture of many you'll see in the Facebook photo journal.

Better Life Facebook fans got a sneak peek of the pictures.  (Join us by going to the Blog's Facebook page and click to "Like" the Facebook Page!)  It seemed an easier way to post so many photos, and I also wanted to give an early preview treat to those of you who follow the Blog on Facebook and Twitter.

So, today's blog post is a compilation of photo journal excerpts from the race week for you.  All pictures have captions accompanying them, which you'll see if you open the photos individually.  Start your photo tour here! (via www.facebook.com/IslandBlog)

Now that Regatta has officially come to a close, I am back to island living:  going out for junkanoo drums and chicken souse during election celebration; mopping up from floods after three solid days of rain; battling the mosquitoes that are on the attack after the rains; pulling ticks off my little island dog; cleaning house; cooking meals; doing laundry; catching up on emails and writing projects; dealing with taxes, doctors, health insurance, bill-paying, family requests and the usual "life stuff" that follows us to every corner of the world; catching up with friends near and far; planning summer activities for local children; and always, always, always taking time to admire the peaceful surroundings and remind myself how lucky I am and to keep Choosing the Better Life every single day!  

Have a great weekend, friends.

Fishing Trip, Without The Fish

Ahhh, the Better Life!  It's all a state of mind.  I mean, here I am, in the most beautiful, pristine, idyllic setting one could wish for, and I STILL get caught up in a frantic flurry of the almighty Things To Do.  On a typical day this week, for example, I started my day at 6:30 a.m. per usual.  It quickly turned into a day of blog posting, social media responses, catching up on overnight email, starting laundry, walking the dog, hanging laundry to dry, mopping the floor, cleaning the bathroom, paying bills online, making lunch, visiting with my beau over lunch, drafting documents and conducting email flurry for local summer children's camp that I help organize, switching laundry off the line to dry, phone calls from family, prepping dinner, etc., etc.

I still had hoped to catch an early shower (never knowing when the water might go off) and run one last errand before closing down for dinner and the evening.  That hadn't happened yet, and it was already after 4:00.  Then, the phone rang.

It was my beau calling.  Generally, he starts his day in the wee hours of the morn and wraps up official work late afternoon/early evening, spending the next few hours catching up on other work, running errands, enjoying happy hour (me too!) or whatever.  That day, he announced he was going fishing!  But it sounded like I was too busy to join him?

Hah!  In all of two seconds, I reminded myself - WHY do you live here?  To sit longer in front of a computer?  What did you leave your former life for?  To continue working too much at the expense of missing out on living life?  NO, to all of that.  YES, to let's go fishing!

I grabbed my sunglasses, visor, cold drinks and hit the road in my golf cart towards the dock.  The next hour and a half was absolutely worth it.  We didn't catch a single fish, but I had a great and relaxing end of day!  

Wanna experience it again with me?

First, we pull out from the dock, easing through the shallow and crystal clear channel area.

We cruise by the government dock, where people were cleaning fish at the bench, admiring one of the local sailboats floating and ready for an upcoming regatta, and generally unwinding from the day together.

Nearing the sailboat (more on these boats and the regatta soon) and the picturesque church.

Having completed our shoreline stroll, we zoom away from the island.  Heading north for a few miles, we stay on the western, protected, calmer side.

Waverunners and water toys are common during the busy tourist season.  Locals aren't thrilled about them buzzing about, but - as we say around here - what it is, is what it is.

Plentiful boats in the area this time of year.

Look at this big momma anchored far out.  At a distance, guessing it's 240+ feet, one big cruising yacht!  We're seeing more of these this season.  Speculation is that the super-wealthy, who would normally cruise to Europe and the Mediterranean are saving on fuel costs by staying more local in the Caribbean!

Zipping along through the numerous little cays dotting the area.

One of many deserted beaches popping out of the rock by the sea, with soft, white sand.

Approaching the "cut" over to the deep, rougher "ocean side" on the eastern side of the island chain.

About to go through the cut.  Some days, it can look deceptively calm, but still surprise you, so a good captain is always alert.  One day, going through this same cut on a calm, clear day, we were suddenly swamped by a 15+ foot wave.  Fortunately, nobody was hurt (more than some pretty severe bangs) or thrown overboard.  I was holding onto a rail with both hands and crouched low, just focused on staying with the boat.  Definitely the roughest seas I'd been in.  Scary.  So glad an experienced captain was handling the boat!

Crossing the cut, waves slap and splash, but it is relatively uneventful as we venture into deeper, ocean waters.  We've gone from clear, pale blue and turquoise green waters into deeper royal blue waters, which will turn to navy blue as we head out even deeper.

Heading east, away from land into nothingness as the sun sparkles and slowly lowers itself for the day.

At this point, we're about a mile from land and in 1,000+ feet of water.

Now the fun kicks into a new level!  My beau sets two reels with bait (ballyhoo) and casts them into the water before resting them on either side of the boat's stern.  We're fishing for dolphin, as in mahi-mahi, not Flipper.  I was at the wheel and throttle at this point, which is why you are not graced with pictures of the line-baiting, etc.  :)   

We troll along for an hour, heading another mile out with almost nothing in sight except a distant peek of land, a sprinkle of boats in the distance and an occasional passing plane.  As we putter along, I breathe easy, cold drink in hand, munching on cashews, Best of the Eagles playing on the boat's stereo, sun warming the soul.  My beau, when he is not regaling clients and friends with entertaining stories, is a man of few words, and we sit in comfortable silence, taking in the peace of Mother Ocean together.

Eventually, we head south, towards a cut closer to home.  We pull in the empty reels.  Although we didn't catch anything, that is secondary to the bliss of getting out on the water.  Fish aren't running quite yet, but we don't care this day!

We dock the boat, where I mange to tie a hitch that is deemed "perfect," and we put the boat away.  I head home and fix dinner while the sun finishes setting off the back deck.  Less than two hours ago, I was feeling the press of the day.  Now, I am at peace.

I hope you can find little bits of that in your day, too.  Have a great weekend!

Hunting Large Sea Snails

Recently, I wrote about an evening boat excursion, which included hunting large sea snails.  I promised a fuller description of what that entails, so here you go!

By way of background, I was never a huge fan of escargot (snails) when I would occasionally encounter them at a fancy restaurant in my former life in the States.  (However, if you saturate anything in butter and garlic, I'm likely to find it tasty!)  So, when an island local offered me bites of an even bigger Bahamian variety a while back, I was even less keen.  However, in the spirit of Choosing the Better Life, I wanted to be open and try new things.  Plus, buttery garlic was offered up simultaneously as a dipping sauce!  While it doesn't hit my love-ometer at the same high scale as lobster or hogfish, I did like it.

Since then, I've learned more about these critters.  Bahamians pronounce the name so that it sounds like "Wilts" or "Vilts."  You may know them as Wilks or Whilks or Whelks.  Or, you may have never heard of these large Caribbean sea snails!  I'll let Wikipedia provide the technical descriptions, but here is my layman's version . . .

We headed out in the boat toward little rock formations jutting out of the sea.  The wilks can be found on our island, too, but not as many these days.

Tide was low so we knew that the wilks, which adhere to the rock near the water line, would be exposed.

Before we focus on snails, let's take a moment to admire the spectacular water.  I never tire of looking at it.

See the different rock coloration marking the high water line?

We maneuvered as close to the rock as possible, leaned in (or got out of the boat on larger rocks), used a knife to pry the wilk's suction loose and dropped it into the bucket.

Approaching with knife in hand.

Our first wilk in the bucket!

While my beau hunts in this photo, I was manning the camera and holding the boat off of the rock at the same time!

As soon as you pry it lose, the wilk squirts salt water out of the shell and quickly retreats back inside.  If you look closely, the center with rings around it is the suction cup portion of the snail.

Up close and personal.

In ten short minutes, we'd gathered a great snack!

But we weren't done.   We kept cruising through the sparkling blue water along the line of little cays in search of more wilks.  When driving closely - and knowing what you're looking for - you can spot the wilks clinging to the rock before heading in closer with the knife.

In a very shallow cove with rock in a semicircle around us.  Engine is turned off and up - we're walking the boat along.

The next round of hunting took longer than our initial score.  We passed several cays that had already been cleaned out by others.  Or, as my beau put it, "Dis is hog road. Ain't nuttin' dere."  Translation from Bahamian dialect:  "This is 'hog road' (meaning, well traveled).  Ain't nothing there."

Still, in about an hour's time - and with us trading spots while he drove and I gathered some wilks - we had a nice bucket of "groceries."

I contributed about 10 to this pile.

As an aside, this excursion was also a great boat lesson for me.  We were in choppy water and I had to slowly approach the rock, throw it into reverse at times, reach the targeted wilk without the current pushing me aside, watch the prop where it got shallow, keep the boat off the rock while he got the snails, sometimes even circle around on my own to retrieve my beau from the rock if he got out of the boat, and otherwise test my new skills.  Challenging, but exhilarating and great practice!

Another line of small cays in the distance, over the choppy water.

Just another example.

As the sun dropped, we called it quits on the hunting and enjoyed the rest of the boat excursion.  Eventually, we made it home.  While I prepared a salad and sauteed the freshly caught Wahoo fillets from our friend for fish sandwiches, my beau prepared our appetizer - wilks!

We brought only a few home with us.  (The rest, we put in an onion bag - strong netting with plenty of holes for water, but small enough that the wilks can't escape.  We sunk the onion bag in water near home and tied it up so the wilks wouldn't crawl off.  This kept them alive overnight until we could share them with other friends in the coming days.)

First, he put the wilks and some water in a pot to boil.

That's salt and seawater scum that boiled off around the edge of the pan.

After 30 minutes or so, he deemed them ready.  I confess I'm not entirely sure how he knew!  After draining them, he took them one by one and popped the snail out by knocking the shell against the cutting board.

The part in the center of the photo is the snail's tail that pushes it along.  We discarded those.

With a kitchen knife, he then took each snail and removed the suction cup and tail.  With the remaining meat, he sliced it into bite sizes for us to dunk in melted butter with lime and garlic.  We did all of this standing up - it didn't last long enough to make it into a bowl at the table.

The dark round discs in the middle of the photo are the suction cups, hardened after being boiled.

These are large, good-sized shells.  Any that were smaller, we left on the rock to keep growing.  We don't hunt babies!

Of course, throughout this entire preparation, Angel was never far from the action.  The smells of the fish in the pan and the wilks on the counter tantalized her quivering nose.  In case you had any question about it, fish is not just for cats.  Angel and the other island dogs love all varieties of seafood!

If I sit nicely, maybe he'll take pity on me or at least drop some little morsel?

So, the next time you hear about or see escargot, you can forget the fancy French stuff and remember our island-style wilks!