The youngster in the above photo certainly seems to be enjoying himself. His cavorting may be the result of the adventurous week he put in – or it could be he’s merely thankful to be on shore. His name is Regan Miller, twelve years old when the photo was taken. Along with baby brother Ethan, mom Heather and Grammy, Cindy Stevens, Regan joined Claudia and I on a trip to Lubber’s Quarters, a small island in the Sea of Abaco. Our stay would last a week and for Regan, the adventure turned into an eye-opening experience not long after he first entered the water.
Our rental home overlooked a protected cove. To the north and south were points of land where the cove meets the open water in the Sea of Abaco. Overlooking the south point was another home, with a large pier extending into the water a good ways. Like all structure, piers attract fish and this one was no exception. Beneath the pier was a variety of fish, including a school of mangrove snappers.
Swimming below the pier, I kept one eye on the snappers and the other on Regan. Having passed through the pier, I noticed the visibility was suddenly reduced – no doubt caused by the constant wave action against the shore. That’s when I saw a light colored flash streak through the water. Though the water was slightly murky I was sure I hadn’t imagined the elongated, silvery flash. What I was unsure of was, had it rushed us, actually swimming in our direction with the speed for which the species is noted when ambushing prey? Were we being sized up? Or was the mad dash merely for identification purposes.
That lightning quick flash was all I saw, yet it was all I needed to realize a barracuda had already staked out this area as its own. The water here was shallow enough to stand, and with my right arm I swept Regan behind my back, an action which signaled to the 12 year old something was up.
Deciding the coast was clear, we backed off, swimming backward slowly, beneath the pier and toward the cove. We had emerged on the opposite side of the pier when the toothsome barracuda came into view, slowly, barely sweeping its caudal fin, its menacing teeth evident. In the clearness of the undisturbed water we could see it was all of five feet long. And he was persistent, following us, refusing to leave. About this time I turned to look at Regan. His eyes were big as saucers – and who could blame him. Unlike big sharks, barracuda are not capable of biting off human arms or legs – but their razor sharp teeth can sever arteries in a heartbeat. And I was responsible for the 12 year old alongside me.
After a few minutes the barracuda came close – too close. I literally tapped the barracuda on it’s snout with the barbed end of my Hawaiian sling, hoping he would get the hint. It did not, but rather turned slightly, staying close. Unwilling to yield its hunting ground, the menacing-looking fish wasn’t backing down. “Don’t shoot him” said Regan. The youngster was obviously reading my mind. “If I shoot this thing is it going to swim off or turn on me - or us?” I wondered. With Regan beside me it was a gamble I would not take.
Swimming backward all the while to keep an eye on the feisty fish, we were finally in knee-deep water. I signaled to Regan to head for shore. I don’t remember whether or not he took off his fins, but he made a B-line for the beach, the ‘cuda in hot pursuit. The toothy fish could have easily overtaken Regan, but it didn’t. Had it merely been curious? Or had it sensed the erratic heart beat of a frightened 12 year-old? Perhaps it had been attracted by the flash of the stainless steel shaft of my Hawaiian sling? Numerous documented reports of barracuda attacks show many of the victims had been wearing shiny jewelry.
Two days later, we were swimming not too far from shore off a small point on the opposite side of the bay, and by this time, Regan had a negative outlook on barracuda in general. It goes without saying there would be more barracuda. Though they were smaller in size, it didn’t matter to Regan. The teeth protruding from their mouth and menacing appearance were enough to make my young dive partner leery. It was while looking to the limit of our visibility, expecting larger specimens to show up, we saw a pair of brown objects lying on the sandy bottom directly below us in less than six feet of water. They were nurse sharks, so close we could see their gill slits opening and closing.
The week wasn’t without its sublime moments. We were snorkeling off Sandy Cay, part of the Pelican Cays Underwater Marine Park when five spotted eagle rays swam past. They were some 12 – 15 feet beneath the surface, swimming in single file, the movement of their wings slow and deliberate, yet graceful. I dove to get pictures, frantically snapping and rewinding the underwater disposable. Its times like this I long for a Nikonos with a strobe flash. On the way home we anchored the boat to dive for sand dollars when a pair of bottlenose dolphins swam past.
One afternoon Regan and I were walking the north shore of the island at low tide. Walking carefully along an outcropping of dead coral, we saw a variety of smaller marine life in tidal pools. Then Regan, never ceasing to amaze me, asked, “Isn’t that an octopus?” Sure enough, at the bottom of one of the tidal pools was a small, cave-like opening in the coral formation. And just inside that opening one could see a small octopus with its tentacles withdrawn. Directly in front of its lair were three conch shells. The shells were empty, their interior pink-orange. They had no doubt been the octopus’ dinner. That same day it was time to depart and Regan had a seat next to the pilot. As we circled the island, I saw him gazing out the window at the turquoise blue water, no doubt thinking about the big barracuda.
This autumn Regan will be a sophomore at Batavia High where he plays football and basketball for the Blue Devils. Since our Abaco adventure he has grown at least a foot and filled out considerably. Not so surprisingly Regan says he’d like to return to the island, adding that next time he’d like to try his hand at actually hunting with a Hawaiian sling. My question to Regan is this: armed with a sling, are you willing to swim back to the barracuda’s lair beneath the pier?
