Cane Garden Bay, Tortola; White Bay, Guana Island; Lee Bay, Great Camanoe
18 February 2012 | British Virgin Islands
Tortola is a short sail away from Jost Van Dyke, and we headed to Cane Garden Bay and strolled the beach past the beach bars and fisherman. It seemed like a family oriented place, with just a few cruising boats and more people in the shoreside resorts. The diving pelicans and sea birds were prolific and fascinating. I need a bird book, because some are very distinctive and can really dive deep. The day we sailed out, the stacks of beach chairs were lined up from one end of the beach to the other in readiness for an invasion of tourists from the Road Town cruise ships who wanted a day at the beach. A very good time to leave!
Next came White Bay on Guana Island, with its lovely sheltered bay. There were only 3 boats anchored there, and although it's private, we could walk the absolutely pristine white sand beach. It was as lovely as White Bay on Jost Van Dyke, but without the crowds. There's a private resort on the island, which looked really nice. Buildings nestled on the hillside and there were a few beach toys to enjoy. At the end of the bay was Monkey Point, which is supposed to have great snorkelling, but there's no anchoring allowed (we didn't purchase a National Parks Permit for $15.00/day because you can't even use the mooring balls overnight) and it was too windy anyway. With winds picking up, we headed for Lee Bay instead, a nice sheltered spot with only 2 other boats. Gotta love it!
It was at Lee Bay on Great Camanoe that I was stalked by a barracuda. Ralph had swum out the check the anchor, and I followed when I was ready. I headed towards him, but the hugest barracuda I've EVER seen swam between us, right towards me. I headed back for the boat. He circled around between me and the boat. I headed for shore, which is where Ralph was by then. He circled around between me and the shore. Apparently, he intended to get between me and wherever I wanted to go, so I faked him out by heading back to the boat, then flipped onto my back and swam backwards so I could keep an eye on him and pivot my fins towards him whichever way he went, splashing like crazy to keep him at bay. When I got close enough, I ripped out my snorkel and yelled for Ralph. "What?" my hero asked, not looking up from his safe perch on the rocks where he was fiddling with his mask. I didn't want to yell, "Help" and have him think I was drowning, so I yelped, "Come here." "Why?" (Still fiddling with the mask). I couldn't manage to say anything at that point because I'd taken my eyes off the barracuda and lost him, so I was busy floundering around like the agitator in a washing machine trying to spot him so he couldn't sneak up on me. "Barracuda," I managed to gasp. "Oh, he's just curious. Get over here," my knight in shining armour said. Big help he was. When I finally reached the rocks and scrambled as high out of the water as I could, Ralph put his mask on, looked underwater at the barracuda who was now hovering about a foot away staring at us, and from the safety of his shore perch he observed, "Oh, he's a big one!" Ya think?!?! (Shows how scared I was that I hadn't once thought of taking a picture.) "He's more scared of you than you are of him," Ralph insisted. Since the barracuda can swim much faster and has much sharper teeth, I highly doubt that, and I maintain the only thing a fish that big is curious about is what I will taste like. For days after this incident, Ralph would start chuckling for no apparent reason, and I just knew he was thinking of how scared I was of that bloody fish.