Life in the lagoon, and paddling to Isla Danzante

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Wednesday, April 3, 2013

The lagoon at Ligui

In the morning, I was watching some kids play near the lagoon.  They had several tiny dogs, and they were sitting in the little stream that exits the lagoon.  After a while, an osprey started diving into the lagoon, so I went to the edge to photograph it.  When I approached, the kids came running.  I said: “Hi, Michelle,” because I thought I recognized her.   But she corrected me.  It was Anette, her younger sister.  She introduced me to her friends.  Anette wanted me to take posed pictures of her, like I had done her sister.  I showed them photos I had taken of the osprey diving.  It hadn’t succeeded in getting any fish, despite the shallowness of the lagoon.  Those fish are fast.

After a while, Anette left, but two smaller girls remained, one about 8 and another about 5.  I challenged them to catch some small crabs that were scuttling around the shallow pools, since it was nearly low tide.  They were courageous, and I showed them how to grab the crabs from behind, so they couldn’t bit you.  The crabs were very fast and very threatening, waving their claws at you when you came close, and opening and closing their pincers.  One actually did bite me, and I yelped, more from surprise than from hurt.  The girls were laughing a lot.

I ran and got a shallow pan from the trailer, so I could show the crabs to the girls, and I asked them to count how many legs (ten).  We introduced the crabs to the dogs, but they were skeptical of the waving claws.  I showed them a few more things about the crabs—how their eyes retract, how they breathe, and their hidden tail on their underside.

Then I pointed out all the little holes in the wet sand, and said there were creatures inside.  Their mother suggested they might be crabs.  I said, “Let’s dig and find out.”  So the two girls and I started digging.  At first, there was nothing.  But then we found a tiny lobster, about one inch long, swimming nearby.  We must have exposed it by our digging.  We found a few more by more digging.

The lobster burrows apparently have two entrances, one where water flows in, and another where if flows out.  You can easily see all the ones where it is coming out, if the water is very shallow.  Evidently, they pump the water one way through their burrows, to breathe, and maybe to filter food out of the flow.  I could tell that the lobsters had made the holes, because the exposed lobsters either tried to enter holes, or to dig new ones with their claws.  If they entered existing holes, the residents of those holes always evicted the intruder, within a minute or so.  These little lobsters can swim quickly backward, using their big tail.  Or, they can swim forward more slowly forward, using all the little appendages on the underside of their tail. When they swim, they point their claws forward into a streamlined shape.  They also dig their holes with their claws.  With their 21 or so paired appendages, they have all the tools they need for swimming, feeding, moving water through their burrows, feeding, and defense.  It’s surprising that they don’t own the planet.  But there are thousands and thousands of burrows in this lagoon.

The kids had shown no interest in the lagoon’s life until I challenged them.  They found it lots of fun, but I think they were also motivated to please adults.  Adults need to show kids what to do outdoors, and to give them “permission.”  The fact that kids don’t do much outdoors today is a reflection of the fact that… adults aren’t interested in or comfortable in nature.

A bit later, I noticed a boy about 12-14, with a younger boy, crabbing in the lagoon with a stick.  When  they started to return, I came out and asked them what they had caught.  He showed me a crab about 4” long.  I asked if it was bound for soup, and he said yes.  He said that it made very delicious soup.

Paddling to Isla Danzante

In the late afternoon, I headed for Isla Danzante. I had a headwind of 10-15 mph, so of course I wore my skirt.  But I made rapid progress.  On one of the beaches, there was a large kayak tour, with a long banquet table laid out for supper.  Obviously, they had a support boat to bring equipment.

Paddling under the big central peak of the island, I marveled at how high it was.  But from a different angle a bit later, I could see that even this peak wasn’t the highest part of the island.

Finally, I reached the coves at the north end of the island, and explored them one by one.  Each one had a little beach, either sandy or gravelly.  There were three expensive yachts moored in the coves.

I went to the northernmost cove, which is a little gem with a white sand beach, and lots of green ground cover—succulent plants.

The sun was now just setting, so I took off my clothes for a dip, and enjoyed a beer.  After the swim, I was nearly chilled, but I could feel the rocks radiating heat like a furnace—and for the first time, it felt good.  I pulled out of the cove as darkness fell.  On the low lava walls, forming either side of the cove, was the silhouette of a great blue heron, settling down for the night—one on each side like a sentry.

The wind was light, so I made good progress, paddling straight back to the beach at Ligui, instead of following the coast of the island.  The magnificent luminescence appeared again, although there weren’t many fish creating luminous streaks.

Suddenly, about halfway back, something thudded into my upper arm.  I was quite startled for a moment, until I realized it was another flying fish.  It had the force of a thrown bean bag.   When I bent my head over and sniffed my shirt, sure enough, it smelled of fish.  It was a much different fishy smell that I learned in my youth on Cape Cod.  It was a bit harsh, and had a sort of herbal element, like it was fish combined with something like celery.

I wonder if a blind man could easily identify different kinds of fish by their smell.  In the dark, my nose is much more keen.  On other evenings, I had noticed the sweet smell of flowers.  Now, with a gentle breeze from the island, I could smell a sort of sweet piny smell, crossed with a scent of smoky leather. I had noticed this smell at the beach on one of the squat, twisted trees.

Everything went smoothly until I approached Ligui beach, when I couldn’t find the trailer.  There was only one other camper there with lights, so there was nothing to guide me.  I was startled when I nearly ran into a downed tree that had washed out from the lagoon in the last hurricane.  But with a little patience, I found the right spot, and was soon home in the trailer.