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!

Fish-Cleaning Video

Good morning, Better Lifers!  I have a special treat for you today . . . a video!

Some of the guys went out diving (e.g., free-diving and spear-fishing) on Sunday afternoon.  They brought back boatloads - literally - of fish.  I enjoyed hanging out at the fish-cleaning bench with all the action.  I happily snapped away to take tons of pictures for you and will post those soon.  Meanwhile, enjoy this video preview!

Here's a quick description of what you're about to see . . .

One of the guys skillfully cleans a large grouper.  He holds the fish by its mouth, and you can see the large gills open.  He uses a super-sharp knife to slice off the scales.  (Later - off camera - he cuts into the fish to separate the head, pare off the fillets, and prepare the rest of the fish for soups/stews/other.)  You'll hear me ask him how large this grouper is - 25 pounds!  

Then the camera pans down to another man squatting over a pile of fish and separating the lobster tails into a bucket of seawater.  

If you notice, the fish bench is right on the edge of the clear blue water.  Sorry for the extra noise, but that's the wind into my camera mic on this gusty day.

And perhaps my favorite part . . . I doubt most of you will be able to follow too closely, but you'll hear the banter and chatter that accompanies fish-cleaning in all its Bahamian glory!

Enjoy!

Delicious Fish Dinner

Good morning!  I was thinking of you all as I cooked dinner last evening, so I decided to snap some pics and share my delicious fish dinner with you.  Now, I’m no chef, and this is not a food blog.  BUT this fish makes me happy, so here you go.  :)

The real dinner process starts in the sea, when my beau and his buddies spear-fish hogfish or grouper, or when we catch mahi mahi with a rod-n-reel. After they clean everything, I help package the fish fillets in gallon-sized Ziplock bags and seal them tight.  The best seal is to simply dunk each bag in a bucket of clean seawater all the way up to the zipper; the saltwater helps suck the air out and create a real tight seal.  (I know that's not the most scientific explanation, but all that matters is that it works!)  

I happily take our portion home, label the bags with a Sharpie marker, and stock the freezer - except for the fish I usually cook fresh that evening!  It is so wonderful (and I am grateful for how fortunate I am) to have fish readily available.

So yesterday afternoon, I went to the freezer and pulled out my very favorite kind of fish, hogfish.  Just out of the sea it looks like:

See the large, pinkish one with the pig-like snout?  That's a freshly speared hogfish.

Just out of my freezer yesterday, it looked like:

I rested the bag on a paper towel on the counter until the fish thawed.  (I know, I know, that’s not the safest practice, but I’m doing things island style.)  Later, I put the thawed fillets into a glass pan.  Metal pans work fine, too, but I like glass for microwave ease if we have any leftovers.

 

I gathered the rest of the ingredients for this simple dish:  lime, seasoned salt, black pepper, garlic powder (optional), tomato, onion, butter.

Yesterday, I was out of butter and didn’t feel like running to the store just for that, so I substituted extra virgin olive oil.  It works just fine, too, though I prefer the subtle taste difference with butter.  None of it matters too much except for the lime.  Real lime, people, not out of a bottle!

I seasoned the fish by squeezing one lime over the two fillets, drizzling a little olive oil (or a few pats of butter if I’d had it handy) and lightly covering them with a dusting of seasoned salt, black pepper and garlic powder.  If you keep your limes in the refrigerator, you’ll get more juice out of them by zapping them in the microwave for 7 seconds before you cut them open.  (That’s a little trick I learned a while back from the almighty Rachel Ray.)   

Then I sliced an onion as thinly as possible and layered it over the fillet, repeating this with a thinly sliced tomato.  You don’t need to use the whole onion or the whole tomato – just cover the fillets.  Also, even if you or the people you’re feeding don’t like tomatoes or onions, use them for the flavor and juice during cooking; you can skip eating them later.

All prepped.

I covered the pan tightly with foil and put it in the fridge until closer to cooking time.  

Island girl note:  I try to prep as much dinner as possible during the day to be ready for last-minute happy hour or social opportunities which frequently arise.  :)

When it was time to think about dinner, I pulled the fish out to come to room temperature and pre-heated the oven to 375 degrees.  (And sure enough, I ran out to meet some friends for a beer while my very slow oven heated.)  Back home, I slid the covered pan of fish into the hot oven, then checked it at 20 minutes.  To check:  stick a fork into the center of the thickest portion of fish.  The fork should go right in and not feel firm or resistant.  The fish should easily flake off of the fork and be white, not translucent.  If it's not ready, pop it back in the oven for a few minutes and check again.

I didn't get a picture of it flaking off of the fork for you because it was all I could do to manage a large flashlight and a camera at the same time.  Yup, the power went out, not at all uncommon in island living.  Sigh.  But, we're used to it and make the most of it!  I'd already cooked most of the meal.  Plus, my stove/oven is propane-fueled so it still functions even when the electricity goes off.  I am well-versed at cooking in the dark!

Ahh, power came back on just as I was about to serve dinner.  It was only off for about 20 minutes - not long at all!  :)  So, I snapped a better picture for you:

Meanwhile, I had cooked brown rice and sauteed fresh baby spinach with onion, broccoli, garlic and basil.  To serve, I put the fish on the rice and covered it all with the “gravy,” as Bahamians call it, or the broth which was created while the fish steamed.  Mmmm, dinner is served!

This makes a delicious and very healthful meal.  It is also a great basis for a kajillion variations of seasonings, steaming vegetables in the pan with the fish, etc.  With the endless options, I wrote this as a narrative, rather than recipe-card style, because it’s more of a method than an actual recipe.  (And because I learned from someone showing me, rather than my usual Epicurious-recipe-hunt.)  You can use this method with fish you buy in your local grocery store and doctor it up however you like!  In my opinion, the keys to success are simply to season the fish well with lime and to not overcook it.  That’s it!

And for the grill masters out there, a favorite variation – and how I originally learned this method – is to make the fish in foil packets instead of a pan and it will steam on a hot grill in 10 minutes.  Delish!

Sharks & Eels & Barracudas, Oh My!

For as many years as I can remember as a child, I loved curling up with family and a bowl of popcorn and watching the once-a-year televised airing of The Wizard of Oz.  (Somehow, that felt far more special than our ability now to download or watch a DVD any ol' time you please.)   Anyway, one of the memorable lines in the movie was Dorothy's innocent exclamation, "Lions and tigers and bears - oh my!"  As I delve deeper (no pun intended) into my new world, I am far more apt to blurt, "Shark!" or "Eel!" or "Barracuda!"  Oh my.

Living on an island means all kinds of encounters with all kinds of creatures, large and small, on land and sea.  In the sea, especially when out diving near the edge of the deepest parts of the ocean, we often see a variety of creatures of the sea.

Sometimes it's fun!  From time to time we're treated to visions of dolphins splashing around.  I mean REAL dolphin, as in porpoise-like mammals, not the dolphin fish also known as mahi-mahi (which we fish for because they are delicious!).

Last month, for example, we were out one Saturday morning and saw a group of dolphin jumping and playing nearby.  I counted at least seven jumping in arcs above the water, and I could see splashes and grey forms underwater of many more.  These mammals are amazing, so graceful.  I regret now that I didn’t jump in to swim with them.  At the time, the guys were focused on diving, I didn’t have my snorkel gear handy and the water was cold, so I just stood and watched.  Next time, I’ll jump in regardless!

Next best thing, swimming with dolphins at the Dolphin Research Center in Marathon, Florida (pictured here).

Sometimes, more dangerous creatures are spotted.  During that same dive trip last month, for example, a big Moray eel, as big as our smallest diver, was lurking under a large rock formation.  Experience taught this diver well.  He knew not to swim into a dark hole.  Rather, he approached low at a distance and peered into the hole first.  Since the eel had already laid claim to that spot, the diver simply swam away.

We also see sharks fairly often.  Sharks have a bad reputation and are actually protected now because their numbers are dwindling as people have killed them off.   Around here, we have a healthy respect for sharks.  Generally, the ones we run into most don’t usually mess with people, unless there is blood in the water.  The divers also are familiar with different types of sharks.  If a nurse shark comes around (like the ones in the Photo Tour at the fish bench), divers typically stay in the water.  Or, if other species of shark come around (e.g., reef shark, tiger shark), divers often stay in the water if the shark is less than 6, 7, 8 feet.  The divers watch the shark and gauge the danger level.  Not me – any shark, no matter the size or species, prompts me back into the boat!

Also during that same eventful dive trip last month, we had a real shark encounter.  As I dozed in the sun on the bow of the boat, three men swam in the water as the boat followed nearby.  I heard someone say “shark” one time, and I immediately jumped up to see where the guys were.  In that instant, two of the divers were already scrambling back onto the boat.  The third was about 20 feet away and we shouted to him to come in, which he did safely.

As the divers tell it, one of them saw the shark swimming low and fast beneath them and saw that it was huge.  He called out “shark” as he swam to the boat.  The diver near him heard “shark” and turned to check it out.  Again, sharks are not uncommon or reason to get in the boat always, so this diver was looking to see what kind of shark it was and whether any danger was posed.  At this point the shark had turned, so the diver couldn’t see his hammerhead or his full length.  But the diver saw his big belly and an astounding girth of four feet, enough to spur him toward the boat after his buddy.  If the girth was that wide, what must have been the length?!  

He later only-half-jokingly told his buddy that next time, the spotter needs to yell “BIG shark” so he doesn’t take the time to look for himself!  The third diver, eyes wide in his snorkel mask, heard all the commotion and got himself back to the boat quickly, though he gave his buddies a hard time about ditching him!  (They didn't really, and our skilled driver had already thrown the boat into gear to get close to the divers and to possibly ward off the shark with the sound of an engine.)

The other reputedly fearsome ocean creature that I have personally encountered is Barracuda.  Despite the mouthful of scary-looking teeth, I find these long silvery fish to be pretty.  Perhaps that's my girlie-girl love of shiny sparkly things.  However, it is that same love of shiny sparkly things that I must guard against when going in the water.  Barracuda, and other creatures, mistake glints of light off of jewelry for shiny and delicious fish.  Since I really have no desire to be chomped on by a barracuda - or anything else - I leave earrings, anklets and all jewelry at home on days where I'll be swimming in the water anywhere deeper than my backyard beach.  I also forgo wearing my favorite colorful and sequined swimsuits in favor of more subdued colors with no sparkles.  Seriously.  The first time I joined the guys on a dive trip, I jumped overboard in my hot pink bathing suit to swim along with the spear-fishing action, and they referred to me as shark bait.  Indeed, I had my first in-water encounter with a nurse shark that day!  At a distance, but still.

Now that I'm blogging with you, I'll try to take more pictures - even (or especially) in the midst of sharks, eels and barracudas - oh my!  For now, your vivid imaginations can fill in the gaps.  :)

Bringing Home the Bacon (Spear-Fishing)

One of my favorite things to do - and it's great for my food supply as well - is to go out diving with the guys. (For the record, my use of "the guys" is not a gender-biased oversight!  Here, it refers to a group of male buddies.  Also, while there are notable exceptions, women aren't typically the divers in this community.) 

Around here, "diving" usually means free-diving and spear-fishing, rather than scuba-diving (although visitors do that, too).  I am not a diver since I haven't mastered actually staying submerged under the water, clearing my ears well or shooting a spear!  Nonetheless, I love to go along for the ride.  During the summer, I often swim along in the comfortable 79-82 degree water to watch the action through my snorkel mask.  In the winter, however, when the water is a chilly 73 degrees (yes, chilly, it's all relative!), I prefer to stay on the boat.

So, what's a typical dive day like?  We leave early in the morning and cruise along in a motorboat until we find a "good spot."  This is determined by decades of familiarity with the area and by peering over the bow of the boat, looking through the clear water to find a good “head” or other area where fish and lobster hang out.

Directing the captain toward a good spot.

The guys don masks, snorkels and flippers, grab their long spears and rubber slings and slide overboard.  Two people usually stay back on the boat - one to drive the boat and one to “catch” the fish that the divers pass up to the boat, although some drivers will do both jobs.  When I'm along, I help catch.  I enjoy catching, plus my driver-in-training skills would hardly instill confidence in the divers swimming near the boat.  I also help spot and watch the divers as they spread out in the water.

Free-diving and spear-fishing are arts unto themselves.  The guys dive down 20-40 feet (although I’ve seen some go 50-80 feet at times) and swim along the bottom, tracking fish or tickling a lobster out of a hole.  Pulling back the rubber sling, the diver launches the spear, usually for a clean head shot that quickly kills the prey.  As the diver swims back up and breaks the surface of the water, the boat sees he has a fish or lobster on his spear, and the boat drives to him. 

This is an important part because we do not like to let divers linger in the water with a bleeding fish – blood draws sharks.  The best dive spots are on the edge of the deep, deep ocean, so everyone must remain alert for the big creatures of the sea.  (More about that in a post next week.) 

Diver emerging with a fish on the spear

As the boat approaches, the diver passes his spear up, and the catcher slides the fish or lobster (or any conch the diver picked up while down there!) into the well of ice in the floor of the boat, or into a cooler, depending on the boat.  Quickly passing the spear back to the diver, down he goes again.  

Keep in mind, this is all done in the midst of strong currents and rolling swells many days.  The experienced divers swim in these conditions for hours, but it is exhausting physical work.  The divers climb in and out of the boat as we move around to different spots to check them out.

Once the wells are nearly overflowing with fish, the divers climb back in and we head home.  Tired, but satisfied with the catch and the fun of the day, the group laughs and tells fish stories.  Crossing back into turquoise waters near our island, we pull up to the marina’s dock.  

Now the next phase ensues – cleaning all of the fish that was caught!  First, we pile the lobster from the boat into a cart. 

 We roll the cart over to the fish bench area and dump it out.   

 We repeat the process with the fish and admire the big haul!

Tourists and locals congregate to admire the catch, ask questions about the day, and laugh while the guys trade stories with their friends and sharpen their knives.

Fish cleaning can be a dirty, blood-spattering, fish-smelling experience.  One of the guys is renowned for his garbage-bag apron, others wear old shirts, and others just don’t worry about it.   

They settle comfortably into a routine they’ve practiced for decades.  A person or two separates the lobster tails from the body with a sharp knife.  Then, poking a stick into the tail, they pull out the guts, toss the clean tail into a bucket of sea water and pitch the head into a separate pile.

Heads & legs, with tails removed

At the end of the day, the tails are divided amongst the divers, to be devoured in the commonly-known form of lobster tails. They usually give away the lobster heads to friends and family.  That meat is equally tasty, but more labor-intensive.  Some people break off the legs and extract the meat.  Others boil the whole head, which gives the broth flavor, and add other things to the soup.

Meanwhile, the rest of the guys work on the fish, slicing off the scales/skin with the sharp knives, cutting open the fish, removing the guts, then dropping the cleaned fish into a bucket of seawater.  

When it's all done, the divers divide the fish amongst themselves to take home to friends and family.  Some fillet the pieces, others leave them whole.  Regardless, every part of the fish is kept and used.  Even if the fillets are removed, the heads and other meat is kept to boil, stew or otherwise cook up for a tasty meal.

By the time this is all completed, the guys have usually put in at least a ten-hour day.  The sun has performed another beautiful sunset over the water, and it's time to go home for a shower.  

Leaving the dock, I take ziplocked bags of fish and lobster home to freeze, keeping some out for dinner that night.  It doesn’t get any fresher or any tastier than that!