14 May 2020
Fishing is a way of life here on Love Island, our own little tropical rainforest cum marina where we've been locked down for the last nine weeks. And I'm delighted to report we've not been frittering away our time just sitting about getting fat and happy. On the contrary, every day we get up early (ish) and do lap 1 of the island, some 4,686 steps, stopping half way at "The Lookout" a cheesecloth curtained sit-ooterie that we commandeer for our morning fitness class. ( https://www.facebook.com/BaseFitnessPersonalTraining/ )
As we puff and pant our way through the exercises we're treated to a wonderful display of local, exotic, tropical life.
In the shallows, a few hundred metres away from our "gym" there's a fleet of parked and empty fishing boats, their occupants wading around, chest deep, diving for shellfish.
Daily, the local fishermen position their nets just off our platform and as they get their morning workout hauling in their net, they look on with incredulity as we sweat buckets jumping around like loonies only just shaded from the searing sunshine and over thirty degrees of heat with humidity you could swim through. Push ups, squats, lunges, crunches and more in pursuit of health, fitness and of course, that Love Island body. (For when they re-start the series. ( https://www.sailblogs.com/member/timebandit/477167 )
Above us, sea eagles and ospreys soar around, circling until spotting breakfast and swooping down to grab a fish supper. Monkeys and monitors are fishing down on the rocks, feasting on crabs and a few yards off in the bay, a family of eight or nine otters are popping up and down, mum and dad giving their pups a Masterclass in sea fishing.
It's all very David Attenborough.
Me? I'm just fishing for compliments.