There’s a blue lounger on our back patio. It’s not the most comfortable but I can stay in it all day. Cup of coffee, cigarettes, lighter and book in hand, I head for that chair soon after I wake up. Before I even crack the book open my eyes are fixed on my backyard: The blue jello, the blue goo – the sea, the sea…the wonderful sea.
It lies there flat in front of me, sunlight bouncing off its crystalline surface, giggling like a bowl of freshly made gelatin. It stretches out towards the horizon to meet the morning sky. It makes no sound except for the gentle whoosh as it slides up the rocky cliff and back in a sleepy reggae rhythm that the island moves to.
The activity on the sea begins early with the fishermen one by one approaching and stopping to ply their trade. I try to make out the details of the fishers pulling their pots, emptying their loads and dropping those pots in the sea again, freshly baited for the next day’s catch. Often enough they have company of some sort. This morning it is a small flock of Pelicans circling the boat and waiting as a dog might do for a morsel to drop in their path.
A little later in the morning a lone fisher is met by a couple of dolphins. No matter how many times I see these magnificent creatures I jump from my chair and yell to all who can hear: “Dolphins!” Then – my neighbors who get to witness their loveliness all year-long will come running from their houses, stopping what they are doing and lurching over the sea wall to watch these gentle mammals play. They move about, they jump and turn, they breach and dive – nudging the fish trap below to loosen some of its prisoners. Today the dolphins stay near the boat: Where there’s a boat, there’s a pot…where there’s a pot, there is food. I can almost sense the relief of the fisher when he realizes that the solitary dorsal fin that rapidly approached his boat was not a shark.
Up until recently the only motorized water vehicles I’d seen from this chair were those little fishing boats and the occasional cruise ship or frigate near the horizon on the Cayman Trench. Then came the jet skis which continue to be a source of annoyance. This year however there seems to be more and more tourist boats coming by. The late mornings in February brings the Beaches Catamaran, filled to the brim and booming with music, thankfully Bob Marley’s music. At sunset the Wild thing would occasionally do a float-by. Throughout the season though just about every day we’d see one of the small glass bottomed boats go by, most often it would be Famous Vincent. I spot his boat today and wave to his captain and eager tourists taking in the view. The boat continues through pulling up to Moondance Cliff’s sea access to either drop people off or pick people up. From there he heads straight out to sea toward the beach and the reef.
Eventually the heat of the day motivates us to go and interact with the blue jello and take in some of the sights that the fishers and tourists have earlier in the day. We head down the uneven steps to the platforms below and either jump or climb in. Swimming out I turn around and enjoy looking at the yard from the point of view of a dolphin. There’s our house, its rooftop peering over the edge of the cliff. Below lies a series of caves; all but one is accessible to us. I dip below the surface and fly above what I can only call another planet. I float over the large rocks with their coral and urchins and watch as a variety of fish, large and small gently kiss those rocks and feed from their bounty.
In the goo I’m weightless and timeless and nurtured by her salt and vigor.
Back on my blue lounger while immersed in my book a shadow crosses the sun. A Blue Heron has flow over and perched itself on the roof. Together we gaze out to sea and after several minutes he moves on.
Whenever possible, where ever I am and whatever I’m doing I try to stop to pay attention to the day’s end. From my chair that’s easy to do and we are often joined by neighbors and friends. The fishing boats are back, this time they motor through the gold glow on the glistening water, the setting globe as a backdrop. We watch and study those last minutes of the sunset and if we’re lucky the sun will set into a clear horizon and crescendo with the elusive “green flash”.
Still mesmerized with the evening’s performance we watch as that performance continues and the sky changes minute to minute in color and movement. Soon the Moon appears, Venus by her side.
After a few hours the blue lounger calls again. With a sarong wrapped around my shoulders I step out and lie down, this time to watch as the Moon makes it curtain call and sets into the sea. Like the sun her beam shines on what is now the black sea and as she descends the stars above her burn brighter and brighter until they cover the blackened sky.
It’s been a grand day in my blue heaven.