Story by Doug Camozzi and J.P. Fidelle, Nautique Sports

In Biblical times, the supernatural feat of walking on water was done ever-so-gracefully – with no assistance from a boat with a 200 horsepower outboard engine or even the power of the wind! These days, watercraft and sails take the place of divine intervention and in the Turks & Caicos, you can see “water walkers” gliding along atop the beautiful turquoise seas in a variety of ways: using kiteboards, wakeboards, wakeskates, kneeboards, waterskis, and even one’s own feet!

For the last two decades, the Turks & Caicos Islands were best known as a world-class scuba diving destination, and are still consistently ranked as such. However these days, boards, skis and kites travel down the luggage carousel next to dive bags as watersports taking place “above” the Islands’ underwater realm rival scuba diving in popularity.

Besides parasailing, “water walking” sports such as waterskiing, barefooting, wakeboarding and kiteboarding all offer an exhilarating rush. Whether you are just starting on two skis, an avid skier on a slalom ski, catching big air on a kite or wakeboard or ripping across the water on your feet, the thrill is reflected in the crazy grin that’s sure to be on your face.

Waterskiing in Turks & Caicos is the cream of the crop. Miles of gorgeous, glass-like turquoise water, white sand beaches lining the way and very little boat traffic make this destination a top choice for tourists and locals. Best of all, Providenciales watersports operator Nautique Sports, based in Turtle Cove, teamed up with the Department of Environment & Coastal Resources in protecting the open waterways and coral reef systems of the TCI’s national parks. Ski zones have been established and the utmost respect for the ecosystem is a priority.

Footin’, the sport of barefoot skiing, is one of the fastest and most exhilarating of the “water walking” sports. When performed on a glassy day on the north shore of Big Water Cay, the experience is close to the feeling one must get when taking that first step out of a plane at 14,000 feet with a parachute strapped to your back. Adrenaline courses through your body as the boat’s prop bites into the sea and begins its rapid push to 44 MPH. “The best way to describe the feeling of barefoot skiing is comparing it to a really good foot massage,” says Nautique Sports instructor, Doug Camozzi. Reflexology comes to mind as every pressure point in the foot is simultaneously stimulated to produce a common result of either a “thumbs up” or another international sign for surfing or boarding, the extended thumb and pinky finger wave.

In barefooting, the boat is traveling 42Ð44 MPH as you ski on a surface area of your foot about the size of a silver dollar, between your arch and heel. Some skiers ski forward and off the heel, but whatever position you ride in, one thing you are going to get in TCI is a really good foot burn. (The result of the epic flat water conditions that exist on many waterways around the Islands.) As the skier rides on “glass,” the water gets pretty slick and the feet get pretty hot. Friction at it finest! But most of the time, the skier thinks, “This is just too good to stop,” and eventually, your feet do get used to it and the burning subsides. Good practice is to get rid of your shoes early in life and walk around barefoot.

If footin’ sounds too intimidating, don’t despair. Waterskiing and wakeboarding are offered by a number of TCI sports operators, including Captain Marvin’s Parasail, J&B Tours, Silver Deep, Ocean Vibes and Nautique Sports. Waterskiing and wakeboarding are performed at much lower boat speeds than that of barefooting. Both share the common joy of gliding across crystal-clear water and looking down to see conch, starfish and the schools of fish swimming below you.

Wakeboarding has steadily gained in popularity and actually surpassed waterskiing as a favorite sport among all ages. Wakeboarding is performed by using a board similar to a snowboard with attached bindings to slide, glide and jump the wake while being towed with a 50Ð70 foot rope. Both snowboarding and wakeboarding use the method of “toeside” and “heelside” pressure on the boards’ edges to cause the board and rider to turn left or right directions.

In the water, the “rider” carves to the left and right while being towed by the boat. As the rider approaches the wake or “curl,” he or she can get “big air” by popping off of the top part of the wake. “Loading up” the rope is done by pulling the rope to the hip while approaching the first curl in the wake. The more speed gained by loading the rope, the bigger the “air” or jump.

Acrobatics similar to gymnastics are performed by the top riders of the world, including double back flips, front rolls and 360¼ and 720¼ rotations – all while in the air and being towed by a boat! Wakeboarding is very exciting to watch and even more, to strap one to your feet and give it a ride. Wakeskating is quite similar, except that you ride directly on the top of the board with your bare feet or with a pair of light skate shoes – no binding necessary! This sport is like skateboarding on water.

The skiing and wakeboarding techniques taught in the Turks & Caicos are the most up to date and advanced in the Caribbean market. Nautique Sports exclusively uses Mastercraft from Mastercraft and Edgewater of Turks & Caicos. (Mastercraft produced the first fiberglass water-ski specific tow boat in 1968 and has since become one of the world’s leaders in waterski and wakeboard sports equipment.) A boom system is used on Nautique’s ski-specific boat so the student can learn while holding on to a fixed bar only 7 feet from the coach. The next step is adding a 7Ð10 foot rope to the boom, giving the skier the experience of trying to balance themselves while being on the rope. Finally, the skier advances to a long line behind the boat and 95% of the time, gets up on the very first pull. “This has totally revolutionized our industry,” states Camozzi. “What was once very frustrating and challenging to new students has become a method of learning and excitement.” Wakeboarding and wakeskating are taught with the same progression method, allowing the rider to advance with confidence.

Nautique Sports (www.nautiquesports.com) on Providenciales at the Graceway Sports Center (behind IGA Supermarket) and soon coming to Turtle Cove Marina, can get you hooked up for gear. They are representatives for Connelly skis, CWB boards, Liquid Force boards, Jet Pilot vests, Sportstuff towables, Straight Line ropes, ski gloves, Fox Racing board shorts and even the boats to tow you by. Their knowledgeable staff, all of which are USA waterski certified ski instructors, can guide you to the exact board or ski to make the most of your experience, not mention the coolest looking impact vests and board shorts this side of Miami! Towable tubes, wakeboards and water skis may be rented by the day or by the week if you are visiting the Islands and would like to try their own special brand of ski and ride action.

As waterskiing and wakeboarding have become popular in the TCI, a sister sport has arrived. When looking down the beach on the north shore of Providenciales, you can often see dotted in the skies a dance of colorful kites – those of a new type of childhood play. Kiteboarding, born and bred in Oregon’s Hood River, areas of Florida, and Cabriete and Sousa in the Dominican Republic, has gained a lot of interest and momentum in the Turks & Caicos Islands.

Kiteboarding is very similar to wakeboarding in that the toeside/heelside turning method is used to steer the board – while being pulled by wind power in a 12 meter sail or kite. The kite resembles a small or half-sized parachute that has lines running from the outside edges of the kite down to the handle that is gripped by the rider. A rider wears a harness similar to that used in windsurfing and uses either a specific kiteboard or a wakeboard. Some have foot straps for a simple entrance and release and some use full wrap bindings.

This sport is as thrilling as it gets! The TCI’s wind conditions and waters are perfect for the two local companies giving lessons. The process of learning on a training kite that is much smaller than the riding sail teaches the new rider the techniques of controlling the power of the wind. After mastering the training kite, students move to a larger version and then on goes the board. (Most have success after a day of training.)

So for a real thrill, walk up the beach and ask for Mustache Mike, Terry, Mike Haas or Randy and let them show you the tricks of the trade. You can also find them at Kite Provo (www.kiteprovo.com) or Windsurf Provo (www.windsurfingprovo.tc). A third school is coming soon that will specialize in instruction to children and young riders. No matter your age, you’ll be flying across the water before you know it!

Skiing, riding, flying or footin’ on the waters of the Turks & Caicos is a wonderful experience. Some will be enchanted by the excitement of ripping across turquoise glass on their feet; others will be drawn to a pull on a board; thrill seekers will discover a kite flying experience that trumps any in their childhood. Even seasoned scuba divers might be tempted to hang up the BC and regulator and turn to “walking on water.”

Archaeologists have been excavating prehistoric Indian sites in the Turks & Caicos Islands for almost 30 years. Through the efforts of researchers like Shaun Sullivan, William Keegan, Betsy Carlson, Brian Riggs and Sharyn Jones O’Day, we now know a great deal about the lifeways and culture of the native Lucayan people who first welcomed Christopher Columbus to the New World. However, archaeology is not a stagnant science — new discoveries always await. To move forward, new sites must be located and examined, and fresh perspectives and approaches developed and applied.

In Spring, 2004, a new generation of archaeologists descended upon the Turks & Caicos to initiate the next phase of research. This is the story of what we found, and where we believe it will take our appreciation of the Islands’ first residents.

For six weeks in May and June 2004, a team of archaeologists from the University of Florida in Gainesville conducted a series of surveys and excavations throughout the Turks & Caicos. The group of nine undergraduate anthropology students was led by University of Florida graduate students Pete Sinelli (M.A. Anthropology, University of Florida) and Geoff DuChemin (B.A. Anthropology, University of North Florida).

It has long been thought that pre-Columbian Lucayan peoples preferred to settle on the larger islands — those with people on them today — rather than live on the numerous small cays and islets that lie out on the banks. Archaeologists have traditionally focused their attention on the larger land masses, assuming that the smaller, more resource-deficient cays could not have supported a sizeable, long-term human occupation. As a result, most of the sites known in the Turks & Caicos Islands are located on larger islands. However, this was due mostly to the fact that until recently, few researchers had ever systematically looked for Indian sites anywhere else.

On my first Turks & Caicos expedition in 1999, I took a chance and ventured out to tiny Pelican Cay off Bambarra Landing on the north shore of Middle Caicos. Pelican Cay lies a little more than half a mile from the coast and is connected by a sandbar so that the water is never more than waist deep. After a long wade, what I found was impressive: a substantial pre-Columbian site loaded with big fish bones and sherds of fancy decorated pottery that was imported all the way from Hispaniola. Clearly, this little cay could not have been self-sufficient — it’s far too small to provide room for crops and has no fresh water — yet there were the artifacts that indicated it was used heavily for as long as 500 years.

Upon further research I learned that Pelican Cay is not unique. Local researchers had recently identified a number of sites on smaller, remote cays throughout the Turks & Caicos. As an avid naturalist and bushman, Brian Riggs of the Department of Environment and Coastal Resources has occasionally visited these places to enhance his database of the nation’s biological and cultural resources. Over the years, Brian has identified a number of archaeological sites on Ambergris Cay and Plandon Cay on the Caicos Bank and Cotton Cay on the Turks Bank.

Similarly, Captain Bob Gascoine and Jane Minty documented a large site on Middleton Cay off South Caicos. Various reports of these and other resources were also made to the Turks & Caicos National Museum by visiting tourists, many of whom stumbled across prehistoric artifacts while boating around the banks. However, none of these sites had ever been excavated or studied in any detail. Archaeologists had largely ignored them.

Clearly, these small, outlying cays played an important role in the lives of prehistoric people. But how, exactly, and what can small-cay sites tell us about prehistoric Lucayan culture? The only way to answer such questions is to put archaeologists on the ground and let them get dirty, which is precisely why the University of Florida expedition was organized.

Our objective this Spring was to visit as many small cays as possible to determine the extent to which pre-Columbian peoples occupied these islands. When we found sites, we conducted test excavations to learn more about who had lived there, when they had lived there, and what factors may have attracted them to these places. Ultimately, this research will help us ascertain the relationship between small-cay villages and large-island settlements in order to understand the role small cay sites may have played in Indian society.

Archaeologists call the process of exploring an area for new sites a “survey.” Surveys are coordinated affairs that require a great deal of advance planning before one ever sets foot in the target area. The most important tool an archaeologist has is an understanding of the kinds of local environments in which prehistoric peoples regularly chose to live. Another important factor is an appreciation for what sites look like after being abandoned and exposed to the tropical elements for more than five centuries. Throw in a few good maps (Government-produced topographic maps, upon which sites are never marked with an X), a GPS unit, a machete and a thirst for adventure, and you’re ready to start looking!

Not surprisingly, the native peoples of the Turks & Caicos Islands preferred to live very near their primary source of food: the sea. Specifically, they preferred leeward coasts that were sheltered from the prevailing easterly winds. Most often they would locate their villages just behind the first dune, less than 50 meters from a suitable beach upon which they could easily land their dugout canoes. Therefore, it makes more sense to explore areas with these attributes than to ramble around steep, rocky cliffs or the wind-swept, boulder-strewn shores typical of the windward (eastern) shores.

Once a suitable ecology has been identified, all eyes turn toward the ground. Sites in the Turks & Caicos can be readily identified by darker gray or black soil, with conch shells showing small, round “Indian kill holes” lying about, perhaps in a pile or “midden” near the water. If a scatter of prehistoric pottery sherds is also evident on the surface, then voila! A new site has been discovered and is ready to spill its secrets.

The University of Florida team visited 17 small, outlying cays, most of which had never been visited by archaeologists. All of these are currently uninhabited and accessible only by boat. After six weeks of braving thigh-deep muck, large rock iguanas, and the repeated dive-bomb attacks of sky-darkening flocks of nesting sea birds, we were rewarded with the discovery of three previously unknown sites (see list above). Just as important is what we did not find: no sites were located on any of the larger cays east of Grand Turk and Cotton Cay, suggesting that despite their size, prehistoric peoples found Long Cay, East Cay, and Pear Cay too remote, with winds too high or seas too rough to warrant settlement.

We excavated two of these new sites, as well as four other small-cay sites that were known but had never before been sampled or evaluated. Our work at Pelican Cay off Middle Caicos yielded a wealth of exotic pottery and rich food remains that suggest the site was used by elite individuals as a retreat or getaway from the rigors of daily village life on the larger island.

The site on Middleton Cay near South Caicos covers almost the entire island, and is by far the largest small-cay site in the Turks & Caicos. At Middleton, conch was king, as evidenced by the thousands upon thousands of shells encountered throughout the island. Control of this precious resource, which provided not only a staple protein but also the raw material for manufacturing a wide variety of shell tools, very likely made Middleton the area’s commercial center sometime around 1200 AD.

The Spud site on Long Cay is a mere four kilometers row over the open bank from Middleton and appears to have been occupied around the same time. However, Spud is smaller, and the excavated evidence suggests that its residents were not as affluent as those at Middleton.

The Dove Cay site just off the south coast of South Caicos yielded a gorgeous imported ceramic vessel (see photo), suggesting that the island played a similar role as Pelican Cay — that of resort for local elite individuals — or perhaps functioned as a ritual center.

Across the Columbus Passage on the Turks Bank lie Gibbs Cay off Grand Turk and Cotton Cay between Grand Turk and Salt Cay. The sites on Gibbs Cay and Cotton Cay all appear to have been smaller, less intensive occupations, perhaps seasonal fishing villages periodically frequented by residents from Grand Turk or the Caicos.

Results from radiocarbon analysis are pending, but based on ceramic styles and other factors, it appears that the sites on Middleton, Spud, Dove and Gibbs cays were occupied as early as 1100 AD. The Cotton Cay sites were inhabited later, perhaps after 1400 AD. Pelican Cay is the real enigma — it appears to have been used sporadically from around 1100 AD up through modern times: Colonial pipe stems and the remains of European domesticated animals may have been left behind as recently as the 19th century.

While our analysis is far from complete, our work leads me to two general conclusions. First, that small cays played a far more important role in the settlement patterns and economies of the Turks & Caicos’ indigenous peoples than has previously been appreciated. The number of village sites on small cays now exceeds the number of such sites known to exist on either Salt Cay, Grand Turk, South Caicos, East Caicos, North Caicos or West Caicos. Second, it is apparent that substantial numbers of people began living in the Turks & Caicos earlier than is currently thought. The Middleton, Spud, Dove, Pelican and Gibbs sites all show evidence of being occupied as early as 1100 AD, which more than triples the number of sites in the Turks & Caicos thought to be associated with this time period, and suggests that a considerable migration into the Islands began as much as two centuries prior to the timeframe currently entertained by archaeologists.

Sadly, the indigenous people of the Turks & Caicos vanished shortly after the 1492 arrival of Europeans. Within a generation, an entire culture was wiped out by economic and demographic upheaval, Spanish slave raids and foreign diseases to which the Indians had no immunity. Archaeology remains the only means by which modern people can come to understand and appreciate the rich cultural tapestry of our island paradise’s first residents. I believe that our work will help illuminate the lives of those who strolled the beaches and bathed in the warm surf more than five centuries ago.

We have accomplished much, but there is still so much more to do. Stay tuned for updates on our progress.

“Does anyone know of any technical diving facilities in the Turks & Caicos Islands?” The e-mail managed to stay in my In box for less than a minute before I replied with a resounding “Yes!” Little did I know that this reply would involve me in one of the most interesting projects of my diving career. The message was from Tanya Streeter. Her mission: to set a new world record in free diving. My mission (should I choose to accept it): to assemble a team of safety divers that would support Tanya’s record-breaking dive to 160 meters (525 feet).

Tanya Streeter is 29 years old. She was born in the Cayman Islands and educated in the UK. She is also no stranger to world records. In 1998, just months after discovering her extraordinary talent for breath hold diving, Tanya had women’s and men’s free diving records tumbling.

This year, Tanya has set her sights on the ultimate challenge: to dive deeper than any other human being on a single breath of air. On August 17, 2002, Tanya hoped to beat the women’s No Limits Free Dive record, held by Canadian Mandy-Rae Cruickshank at 136 meters (446 feet). Following this, Tanya was then hoping to smash the men’s world record, held by Frenchman Loic Leferme at 154 meters (505 feet).

Like many scuba divers, I always viewed free diving with a sense of deep-rooted suspicion: I mean, if you want to dive deep why don’t you use tanks? I certainly never dreamed of becoming involved with the sport in any supervisory capacity. Tanya’s e-mail expressed her hope that the attempt could take place in the Turks & Caicos Islands, which are famous for their pristine waters and dramatic walls, which in places drop precipitously from 10 to over 2,500 meters. Tanya’s husband (and business manager) Paul Streeter had already secured sponsorship for the event from Club Med Turkoise, an all-inclusive resort based on beautiful Grace Bay Beach in Providenciales. As the owner of O2 Technical Diving, the TCI’s only technical diving facility (based at Big Blue Unlimited), I was approached to help set up, support and sponsor the event in conjunction with Red Bull, Club Med and Big Blue Unlimited.

SETTING THE STAGE

Our first job was to choose a dive site that would best suit the record attempt. It had to be within reasonable distance from shore in case of an emergency evacuation to the local recompression chamber and medical facilities. The chosen site also needed to be next to very deep water.

The wall opposite Grace Bay on the northern shore of Providenciales starts in 12 meters (40 feet) and drops to a sandy ridge at 30 meters (100 feet) before sloping down to the “second wall” in 50 meters (165 feet). It was upon the edge of this second wall that we decided to fix a new permanent mooring.

Hanging over the edge of the drop-off, we secured the mooring line and watched the wall drop steeply away below us to 7,000 feet. The line had to be extended to 200 meters to ensure that the boat hung well out into the blue and did not drift into the edge of the wall. That also meant that we had to rely upon the wind blowing easterly for successful training dives and the record attempt to take place. Thankfully, calm conditions, excellent visibility and gentle, predictable tradewinds made this the perfect location for the record attempt.

GEARING UP

The stage was set: now we needed the equipment. Over 20 large cylinders of oxygen and helium had to be imported from Miami, incurring a whopping gas bill of over $1,500. Two hundred meters of rope supplied by Pelican Rope (complete with reflective strip for low light conditions) for the sled were also imported along with 80 meters of deco line and various Diverite lift bags for recovering the sled from depth. All these ropes needed stretching and accurate measuring and marking so that they could be set to the required depths. An old 12 liter scuba cylinder filled with lead and concrete provided 121 pounds of ballast for the sled line and a makeshift crane was rigged to the back of the Club Med dive boat to ensure the line was secured correctly. Spare air and Nitrox were positioned along the deco line some 45 feet away from Tanya’s dive line as well as cylinders dedicated to filling the lift bags that would raise the heavy sled and ballast back to the surface after each dive.

The sled itself looked like a medieval torture machine. Measuring 11 feet in length and weighing close to 35 pounds, I marveled at how anyone could be brave enough to attach themselves to it and pull the release pin. As safety divers, we had to ensure that we were at least 10 feet away from the sled as it thundered past us at depth to avoid hitting the protruding camera arm.

Prior to the dive, the sled is weighted with a further 45 pounds to help speed Tanya’s descent and hangs from the stern of the boat. It remains at the surface as Tanya slides her fins into the lower wedge. The top portion detaches from the weighted lower portion with a quick release system incorporating a large lift bag (custom-made by Subsalve). A three liter air cylinder provides enough lift for Tanya’s return journey. Tanya also wears a climbing safety harness attached to a metal ring that runs up and down the rope just above the lift bag. This allows the safety divers to assist Tanya to the surface using additional lift bags in case of emergency.

Upon Tanya’s signal the pin is released and the sled begins its journey down the rope to depth. Tanya can control the speed of her descent by using a brake and also by cracking small amounts of air into the lift bag. A large knot at the bottom of the rope stops the sled’s descent at the target operating depth. It is then Tanya’s job to release the lift bag section of the sled from the lower part and open the tank valve to put air into the lift bag. Like a Polaris missile, Tanya is then catapulted back to the surface at a horrifying ascent rate that would cause a dive computer to sulk for several days. Tanya pulls a quick release pin at the back of her safety harness and then releases the lift bag at 30 meters, gently swimming the rest of the way to the surface. This helps to avoid shallow water blackout that may be caused during the rapid ascent through the last two atmospheres of pressure, where oxygen can quite literally be sucked out of her blood as her lungs re-expand. After a day or two of testing, practice and preparation, we were quite happy with the initial setup.

PUTTING PLAN INTO PRACTICE

David Apperley and I had put together an international team of safety divers. The team was made up of several local divers with additional divers being flown in from the United States and even as far away as Australia. The final team of ten consisted of five Brits, three Americans, one Swiss and one Australian. To satisfy the AIDA (Association International our le Development D’Apnea) guidelines, all safety divers are required to have a buddy and we decided to stage divers at 40 meters (130 feet), 80 meters (266 feet), 110 meters (366 feet) and 130 meters (432 feet). The 130 meter divers (David Apperley and I) were on inspiration closed circuit rebreathers and had suitable gas and tables to reach the record depth of 160 meters if required.

he Club Med dive boat (previously used for conducting “try a dive” classes) suddenly looked a more serious beast altogether with row upon row of double cylinders, stage bottles and rebreathers lining its decks. As our team loaded the boat we received horrified looks from the Club Med resort divers about to venture into the ocean for the first time. The boat was loaded, the team briefed. It was time to go diving.

Twelve days of diving were scheduled in the build-up to the record attempt. Each day allowed Tanya to venture progressively deeper, with contingency days put in reserve should we fall behind schedule. We were to dive on alternate days to avoid multiple deep exposures. The first dive took place on July 27. A half hour before each training dive the boat falls silent as Tanya and the safety divers focus mentally in preparation for the dive. The official timekeeper on board then begins the countdown. Ten minutes before Tanya is ready for her dive, all the safety divers are in the water and at seven minutes, the deepest divers start their descent.

There are several emergency scenarios when a dive might be aborted. For example, if the sled rope was damaged, hanging at a steep angle or if it made contact with the wall itself. As I passed 80 meters (266 feet) on that first day, it was clear we would have to abort. There below us, climbing steadily out of the gloom, was a deep section of the wall. The boat had drifted in the wind, causing the line to drag against the wall at about 110 meters (366 feet). Not a pleasant thing for Tanya to plow into on her first dive!

Each diver carries two metal bars for signaling and we started communicating the abort dive signal up towards the shallow support team, who relayed it up to the surface where Tanya’s husband Paul periodically put an ear in the water to listen for such a signal. Decompressing after an unsuccessful dive is a frustrating experience and I realized that we would have to extend the mooring line considerably to ensure that the boat hung over the abyss, well clear of the wall.

GETTING IN DEEPER

After a few days of diving, we had ironed out these and other logistical issues and the team was finally treated to our first proper deep ocean dives. It’s said that Eskimos have over 20 words to describe snow. As our team descended into the open ocean, I realized that you would need as many words to describe the iridescent shades of blue we encountered on our decent.

Passing 100 meters (325 feet), we hit a thermocline and the water turned midnight blue before gradually fading to the inky blackness below. No sign of life down here. No sharks or other pelagics. Not a single fish. It was very quiet and eerie. Were it not for the line in front of us, we could easily have become disoriented. With no bubbles, it was easy to forget which way was up. Hovering at 120 meters (400 feet) with 7,000 feet of nothingness below you certainly helps you focus on the task at hand. Tanya was expected down in less than a minute. My lift bag was out and ready in case I needed to attach it to her or to the rope itself. I do another quick systems check: depth, time and PO2 all in line. Run time slowly creeping up.

A distant clinking of metal sounds above us as the 80 meter (266 feet) divers signal to Tanya so that she knows how deep she is. These audible signals are essential for Tanya to time her equalizations effectively. Looking up, I can clearly see Tanya fast approaching the 90 meter (300 feet) mark. I start singing “Crocodile Rock” into my rebreather mouthpiece–Tanya’s request as it helps remind her there are other human beings down there with her. The noise I make on the helium-rich mix sounds nothing like Elton John but Tanya cracks a smile as she passes, eyes tight shut, mind focused and her body so compressed that her wetsuit hangs around her like a shedded second skin. A sudden reality check as your brain tries to process what you are seeing: You are at 120 meters and a silver wet suited platinum blonde is thundering past you on a single breath of air. It’s a surreal vision that your mind never truly gets used to accepting.

Clang! Clang! Clang! David signals to Tanya that she is a few feet from the bottom but she stops short at 132 meters (440 feet), her right ear refusing to equalize. With a look of disappointment, she transfers her focus to the top section of the sled, unclips the quick release and rockets back to the surface in a torrent of bubbles. Dave and I are left alone in the blue facing over two hours of decompression. All the build- up and excitement of the dive is over in just two minutes and we start to crawl our way back up through the deep stops. At 80 meters (266 feet), I remove an air cylinder from the bottom of the deco line and swim it over to the sled line. There, David attaches a climbing ascender and lift bags and sends the sled back up to the surface. We jump back onto the main deco line at 70 meters (233 feet) and are pleased to see the safety divers swoop down to intercept us at 40 meters (130 feet) to ensure all is OK.

Two hours later we surface and look enviously at the boat crew who have been sunbathing during our decompression. Our deco stops are pretty boring hangs (nothing to see) and we appreciated Tanya’s frequent dives down to our shallower stops with drinks, games of paper, rock, scissors and moral support.

Following the dive was the daunting prospect of refilling all the gases and amending the dive plan to cover the next deeper progression. Having a Haskell booster pump and helium analyzer at the dive center helped tremendously and all the team chipped in so that the filling was never left to just one individual. A documentary film crew filming the event was genuinely surprised to discover that so much work and planning goes into conducting a technical dive. Most spectators have little clue to how much effort goes into each day’s diving.

After two weeks of successful training dives, we had to add “jellyfish stings” to our list of possible abort dive scenarios. Tanya, Paul and some of the deeper divers found themselves surrounded by annoying hydroids and spent most of the dive swatting them away. Several swollen faces were seen at breakfast the following day and dive hoods became a standard piece of equipment. Tanya had developed a congested ear and swollen throat and had seemed to hit a barrier at 132 meters where her ear stubbornly refused to equalize.

RIDING THE STORM OUT

August 9 proved to be an interesting day when a freak tropical storm hit the boat. In minutes, the clear blue sky dramatically changed to 40 MPH winds, large swells and lightning striking the water around the boat. Not a problem for the divers who were oblivious to all this surface commotion: that is, until the wind changed direction. In our briefing, we had stated that the divers’ deco line should be released by a crew member to float free should the boat start to get dragged through the water. I guess someone forgot this because suddenly all the divers found themselves rocketing through the water with computer ascent alarms screaming as the deco line turned into a fast moving tow rope. We stabilized our deep stops at 30 meters and decided to keep the team together on the line until the storm blew over to avoid getting dragged onto the shallow reef.

Gliding through the water we could see the rain lashing the surface and the lightening flashes around the boat. I remember trying to rack my brains on whether or not electricity could pass down nylon rope to decompressing divers. What a lousy way to go: frazzled by lightning at 30 meters! Below us, the edge of the second wall loomed up. We were now drifting into shallower water and treated to a beautiful scenic dive as we clung to the rope and tried to maintain depth. The boat eventually slowed and we released the line and drifted into the wall at 20 meters (66 feet) to conduct our long shallow stops surrounded by a multitude of tropical fish and pristine coral formations.

BREAKING THE RECORD

On the evening of August 16, the whole team was trying hard to remain focused on the task ahead of us. Tanya had successfully overcome her equalization problems and had already unofficially broken the men and women’s record with a dive to 156 meters (512 feet). Now we just had to do the same in front of the AIDA judges with the television crews and world press breathing down our necks.

On the morning of the record attempt, we tried to keep the atmosphere light and treat it as though it were “just another day.” (Easier said than done when every move you make is being filmed and recorded.) The weather looked perfect, the team was fit and rested, and Tanya arrived with that determined look upon her face that communicated supreme confidence in the job she had to do. The half hour call went out and all the divers moved down from the top deck where they were visualizing the dive and started conducting final checks on their equipment.

Twenty minutes before the dive, I went to pressurize the O2 regulator on my rebreather and was greeted by a loud hissing noise as the intermediate pressure went through the roof. Murphy (as in “Murphy’s Law”) was clearly on board that day and letting his presence be known. I kept a spare regulator with me so I quietly moved the rebreather to the front of the boat and concentrated on replacing the O2 reg, adjusting the intermediate pressure and testing, retesting and triple-testing the system as the clock slowly ticked by. By the time I had finished, it was ten minutes before the dive and I concentrated on gearing up, getting into the water, performing several safety checks and refocusing on the dive ahead. Murphy on the surface I don’t mind dealing with.

David Apperley and I started our descent to 130 meters (432 feet) at T-minus seven minutes. As I reached 40 meters (130 feet), I suddenly became aware that I was on my own. Dave was still at 25 meters (85 feet) signaling that his right ear would not clear. Now it was a question of timing. Could Dave clear his ear in time to join me at depth? After two minutes, Dave was able to join me at 60 meters (200 feet) and gave me a confident OK sign. Murphy was defeated again and we had the dive of our lives to look forward to.

The setting could not have been better. As we passed 100 meters (325 feet), we could clearly see the wall off to our right gradually slope down to undercut the line at 160 meters. Like a rugged lunar landscape, the vast wall provided an incredible backdrop for the record attempt. Glancing above us it looked as if Tanya was descending the side of the Grand Canyon as she slowly trundled down to greet us at 130 meters.
“Go on girl, you can do it!,” David and I screamed into our mouthpieces. The helium distortion made us sound like the Smurfs cheering on their favorite football team. But it seemed to help Tanya relax. She hit 145 meters and stopped suddenly as she slammed on the brakes.
“Only ten meters to go!,” we shouted. “Go on girl! You can do it!”
Tanya released the brake and continued down. She progressed slowly, clearly monitoring the increasing pressure on her eardrums. Clunk. The sled hit bottom. She had done it. She was at 160 meters, the deepest anyone had ever been on a single breath of air. Dave and I could not control our excitement.

“It’s a new world record!,” we screamed in unison.

Calm and smiling, she reached above her head to crack open the lift bag. She seemed to be taking her time. Was there a problem? Had Murphy returned for a final visit? My heart stopped beating.

Nothing happened. Tanya did not start moving upwards. She hadn’t pulled the release clip. Narcosis is inevitable for Tanya at this depth, affecting coherent thoughts.

David and I dropped like stones to reach her, concerned that the lift bag cylinder had not been correctly filled or that there was inadequate gas inside it to initiate the lift. As we swooped towards her, as if coming out of a trance she slowly reached her hand down and released the clip connecting her to the massive weight that took her to depth.
With the bag now fully inflated and the release suddenly unclipped, I was treated to one of the finest sites of my life. In an explosion of bubbles and with a huge grin on her face, Tanya rocketed toward the surface, passing us at an incredible speed, her body perfectly framed against the spectacular cliff wall that loomed above our heads. We watched as she disappeared from sight into the blue ceiling above us and listened for the satisfying three clicks that meant she had safely reached the 40 meter mark. Turning to each other with a great sense of accomplishment, Dave and I took one last look around us at a sight no human had ever seen before. The wall had never looked so beautiful. And our job was done. We turned and slowly started up towards the surface.

A Channel Five documentary called “Extraordinary People” covered this unique event and is scheduled for viewing in January 2003 in the UK and later in the year in the USA as part of a Discovery Channel special. For further information, visit www.o2technicaldiving.com or www.redefineyourlimits.com.

Intrepid cave diving team John Garvin, Mark Parrish and James Hurley
are exploring the underwater cave systems found scattered throughout the Turks & Caicos Islands. One of the most impressive subterranean waterways found so far has been a Blue Hole in North Caicos known as Cottage Pond.

In October 2001, an attempt was made to reach the bottom of this alluring deep hole thought to be located somewhere underneath the neighbouring hill and in over 200 feet of water.

The team first explored Cottage Pond over two years ago. They immediately realised that this was no ordinary freshwater pond, but an enormous sinkhole that opened up 65 feet underwater into a black abyssal saltwater chamber below. To determine the size and extremities of this hole was going to require some dedicated planning and some serious skill.

Garvin and Parrish went to the freshwater springs of northern Florida in the winter of 1999 to learn the specialised techniques of cave diving. Garvin, an accomplished deep diving instructor, also taught Parrish the use of mixed gas techniques that are required to reach the extreme depths encountered in the pond. The Providenciales-based duo met up with Hurley in North Caicos that year and were delighted to find shared interests in cave diving and the desire to explore the allure of Cottage Pond. Hurley turned out to be a keen underwater cartographer and side mount diver, skills that were to prove invaluable over the coming months.

The team had since been steadily exploring deeper and deeper into the Cottage Pond hole. The top 30 feet of the pond consists of reddish-brown fresh water, which is stained by tannin from the lush plant life that surrounds the area. Between 30 and 50 feet, the freshwater and saltwater layers mix, producing a “halocline” that makes vision look like wearing strong prescription reading glasses. The water also smells and tastes of hydrogen sulphide or “rotten eggs.” It tarnishes dive equipment and plays havoc with ears. Visibility can be drastically reduced at this point, forcing the divers to hold their computers within inches of their masks to read the displays. (Often, over an hour of decompression is required in this zone and communication between the team is by touch alone.)

It is a relief to enter the clear salt water below. At a depth of 65 feet, the sides of the pond contract into an oval opening approximately 10 by 20 feet wide. It is at this point that the pond changes from being an unassuming, conical shaped pond into an enormous deep hole. No light passes through the upper layers and the water, although clear, is blacker than night.

At around 75 feet, three small side tunnels were discovered. They are pushed back on a sediment laden ledge and guarded by stalactites, cave drip formations that prove that the pond was once above water. In January, 2001, Hurley had a narrow escape while trying to determine where these tunnels led. Using steel tanks mounted on his sides and underneath his arms, Hurley tied off his line and ventured in. Squeezing past the stalactites and into an opening no more than two feet high and about the same wide, he was able to pull himself over the fine sediment and almost 100 feet into one of the passages. Upon realising that the tunnel was actually getting smaller, Hurley decided that it would be prudent to turn around. This was easier said than done. The only course of action was to bury himself half into the sediment and ease his tanks and body around inch by inch. The visibility quickly reduced to zero and in the confusion, he lost contact with his line and reel, his only lead out to the main chamber and the anxiously awaiting Garvin.

It is at this point in cave diving that the diver might assess the sanity of where he is. Panic can easily set in and the air supply is finite. The experienced Hurley kept his head. He took slow, deep breaths, relaxed and Mother Nature came to his rescue. Cottage Pond is tidal in that somewhere it links to the sea, and it appears that these side tunnels might just be that link. As Hurley looked up, the water was becoming clear. The tide was washing away the visibility-reducing sediment and he caught sight of his line. Taking a firm hold of it, he wriggled his way out into the main chamber and then ascended to a very welcome gulp of fresh air.

Deeper into the main chamber, the ceiling and sides of the cave peel away and the chamber becomes bigger and bigger. It stretches underneath the adjacent hill and is soon large enough to accommodate a good size house. At a depth of about 120 feet, a very impressive flowstone formation begins on the southern wall. It is 30 feet wide and over 40 feet tall with long finger-like projections hanging over the abyss. It is also white in stark contrast to the brown walls and is another cave formation that proves that this portion of the pond was also once above water. It has been named the “organ pipes.”

It is not until 180 feet underwater that the first signs of the bottom are encountered. It is a cold, smelly silt and continues to slope deeper and deeper into the blackness. Despite the clarity of the water and the large halogen flashlights that the divers carry, it is impossible to make out all the sides of the chamber at one time. In fact, it is difficult to determine whether one is simply in a large hole or has entered a vast underground tunnel. A large tree trunk was found at 200 feet and a branch at 228 feet. This became the point of greatest descent for over a year and the cause of much discussion and wonder. As it turned out, this was tantalisingly close to the bottom.

The problems of diving in such extreme conditions are plentiful. The overhead environment requires the use of cave diving techniques and the depth requires various complex blends of gas for the different portions of the dive. For the deep dive team, is it necessary to have a nitrox travel mix for descent, a set of trimix doubles for the deep portion of the dive and an oxygen-rich mixture to accelerate decompression near the surface. The water is also cold and at about 70 degrees Fahrenheit, the extended dive times require a dry suit. Lugging all this equipment around in the Turks & Caicos heat requires considerable effort and plenty of rehydration.

After a warm-up dive on October 8, 2001, it was planned to make a deep push the following day. The team met early at Big Blue headquarters in Leeward but things went badly from the outset. It was discovered that due to a leak, one of the sets of double tanks was not at the required pressure. Garvin, master blender, hastily set about recalculating the percentages of gas that were needed to replenish the tanks. It was not the calm, easy morning that he needed. Upon reaching North Caicos it was also discovered that a harness required to attach an Argon bottle for dry suit inflation had broken. A jury rig had to be made. Then at Cottage Pond as the team was readying themselves for the dive, the final straw broke–the emergency oxygen regulator was malfunctioning. Despite the effort, cost and eagerness to make the dive, Safety Officer Garvin called off the dive and it was agreed to put it off for another day. The team was disappointed but a valuable lesson had been learned.

They returned to Cottage Pond on October 11 determined to do it right. Garvin and Hurley rigged up for the deep dive. Parrish, with an injured leg and less experience at depth, was the support diver. The day went well and at 12:45 PM the divers entered the water. At 1:10 PM they slipped beneath the surface in the centre of the pond. Their descent was rapid. At a planned depth of 260 feet, the deep divers had 20 minutes to reach their target and to ascend again to the first decompression stop at 80 feet. This short bottom time still equated to 85 minutes of decompression so it was paramount that they kept to schedule. They stopped briefly to switch to their deep breathing mixes at 100 feet and to trade “OK” signals. They passed the Òorgan pipesÓ at 4 minutes and the 228 foot tie-off point after 7 minutes.

Everything was going according to plan. A minute later, they reached what appeared to be the bottom at 247 feet and they set about exploring their surroundings. Time was of the essence. They found the outside wall and followed the perimeter. After a further 6 minutes and reaching a maximum depth of 255 feet, they stopped to appreciate the enormity and beauty of where they were. Satisfied that they could go no further, they started their slow ascent to the surface and to the long decompression that awaited. Parrish met them eagerly at 100 feet to check that all was okay and to hear the news. He accompanied them through their decompression stops to monitor equipment and gas consumption.

At 255 feet underwater and using over 600 feet of line, they had reached their objective. There followed a great sense of achievement and jubilation at the climax of this two-year goal. What remains is the continued survey and mapping of Cottage Pond, the collection and identification of organisms that have been encountered and the study of life in this strange and wonderful environment. Who knows what exists and what secrets lie in the boundary between the fresh and salt water? Some say that these haloclines hold clues to the origins of life itself. And then of course there are the side tunnels. It is known that Cottage Pond leads to the sea and it seems likely that these tunnels are the link. Perhaps another day . . .

Many thanks to Ian White for his huge support of exploration in October. The team would also like to thank Holton Williams, Hormel Harvey, Big Blue Unlimited, O2 Technical, MediaWorks, the Extended Range Foundation and the offices of Twa, Cochrane and Skatfeld.

For more information on the Caicos Caves Project, visit www.caicoscavesproject.com.

Rugby is a hard-hitting game of endurance and grit. Surging adrenaline gives energy-devoured players the power and pace they need to play on. The game famed for the friendships and respect that emerge from tough encounters has firmly established itself here in the Turks & Caicos Islands. People from different backgrounds and of different ages are united in pursuing the great game. Some may go on to play for their nation or the West Indies. Sport offers all kinds of dreams but no barriers.

Historically, rugby is an old game. It is alleged to have been born in England in 1823 when 16 year old William Webb Ellis, disregarding his school’s version of football, took the ball in his arms and ran with it. By the 1840s, running with the ball had become the norm, and as the boys left “Rugby School,” they took the game with them. Soon, clubs sprang up throughout Great Britain and its colonies. The “Rugby Football Union” was founded in 1871 to bring together the many versions of the rugby-type game and the International Rugby Board (IRB) was founded in 1886 to become the world-governing and law-making body for the game of “Rugby Union.”

Today, rugby is played in more than 100 countries with IRB membership of 93 National Unions and one Regional Association. The Turks & Caicos Islands Rugby Football Club has just become a National Union, joining countries such as the Bahamas, Barbados, Bermuda, the British Virgin Islands, Cayman Islands, Jamaica, St. Lucia, St. Vincent & the Grenadines and Trinidad & Tobago.

In the early years, the game went through a transition from a 20-a-side game to fifteens. Today it is played as a 15-a-side game in the main, with the 7-a-side game a popular alternative. Rugby was an amateur sport until 1995. Now, players can be remunerated and, if good enough, become full-time professionals.

There are plenty of high profile competitions. The Rugby World Cup, first staged in 1987 and contested every four years, is one of the world’s top sporting competitions behind the Olympics and FIFA World Cup Football. The Rugby World Cup is clearly a great spectacle as a 15-a-side game, but the Rugby World Cup Sevens is perhaps more worthy of note to a small nation like ours. First staged in 1993 and contested every four years, it involves many countries worldwide. The tiny island nation of Fiji won in 1997 and is a very strong nation to be reckoned with when it comes to Rugby Sevens. The latest and most ambitious addition to the international rugby scene is the IRB World Sevens Series providing a winner on an annual basis. The West Indies entered a team for the first time this year.

The last Rugby World Cup attained a TV audience of 3.1 billion. This high figure represents many new recruits to the sport and they need not feel inexpert. In any rugby club, there is disparity of player ability, experience and age. Whatever a club’s facilities or make up, the variations of the game mean fitness training and competition can be attained.

The Turks & Caicos Islands Rugby Football Union (TCIRFU), based in Providenciales, has had little in the way of facilities over the years. Only through local business sponsorship and assistance from individuals has the club come so far. From 1991, a small core group of hardened rugby enthusiasts played weekly touch rugby at the Ball Park in downtown Providenciales. Coached by Simon Taylor for the last 18 months, the “club,” now an International Rugby Union, wants to see rugby develop throughout the Turks & Caicos Islands in order to create a first class national team.

Where better to introduce the discipline and camaraderie that comes with the game of rugby than with children? Five to ten year olds are invited to attend sessions run by Peter Savory every other Sunday on Grace Bay Beach. Playing the game is a fun way for youngsters to learn the basics of rules and tactics.

Children here in the Islands have some great players to follow. In the last year, the TCIRFU has inspired all who follow them by sending teams to the Carib Trinidad & Tobago Sevens, the Kalik Sevens in the Bahamas, and their first international fixture playing the Dominican Republic’s national team at 15-a-side rugby. Amongst these great games, the 20-10 victory against the Dominican Republic’s first choice national team gave players and supporters a particularly huge feeling of achievement.

Assembling a full 15-side team to play in Santo Domingo was a measure of the fledgling TCIRFU’s determination to introduce its members and supporters to an international full contact game. The “club” may not have had the numbers to put together an experienced side, but it had the necessary elements of power in its forwards, effective tackling, accurate passing, and pace from its backs. Amidst the physically hard-hitting tackles the conviction of new recruits during the Dominican Republic Tour was impressive. Another in the long line of William Webb Ellis followers, Dorell Williams of the British West Indies Collegiate used his pace to gain a vital try and the lead before the half-time call, and did the very same in the second half.

Rugby in the Islands is being further developed through tournaments at home. Whether Sevens-touch or 5-a-side full contact rugby, from time to time the “club” invites all interested parties to try the game by fielding a team, through their work, school or friends. At these tournaments, the Best New Player’s Award is on offer. New talent will be the TCIRFU’s future and playing the game for the first time in a recent Stella Artois 5-a-side Contact Beach Rugby Tournament was best newcomer Levardo Turbot (”Willow”). Not long after Dorell Williams returned from the Dominican Republic Tour fired up about the tough game, Dorell, Willow and friends were to be seen in one of the local restaurants watching the relentlessly flowing full contact game on TV. More familiar with American football, the absence of customary pads and stops was viewed in awe. This novice side, coached by Keith Burant, took third place at the tournament after a succession of crunching games in the heat of the day on unforgiving sand . . . and they didn’t stop smiling!

The TCIRFU is currently fund-raising to build a rugby pitch and clubhouse on land in Providenciales, generously donated by Frank Coggins. The “club” wants to see rugby teams emerging throughout the Turks & Caicos Islands. Ongoing fundraising is needed to give those teams the opportunity to visit Providenciales to play matches on a grass pitch. With the development of a national side and a good center for play, teams from other countries will be attracted to visit us. Sport is more than just exercise for a developing nation like ours. It provides the opportunity to unite our Islands and promote our country abroad. Whether your interest is playing, fundraising or spectating, enquiries about the “club” may be directed to Keith D. Burant, Public Relations Officer, TCIRFU.

Special thanks go again to Frank Coggins for his donation of land to be used for a rugby pitch. The “club” also wishes to thank its generous sponsors: IGA Supermarket, Discount Liquors and Hey JoseÕs Caribbean Cantina for supporting fund-raising events and supplying tour shirts over the last year. Thanks also go to Banana Boat Caribbean Grill, Club Med Turkoise, Contractors Equipment & Supplies, Marvin Johnson, Portia Cox, Dempsey & Co., Lyndon Gardiner and Inter Island Airways Ltd., Lattitudes Tavern & Grill, Turks Head Brewing, TCIFA, TC Trading, and the Rugby Football Clubs of Trinidad, Nassau and Dominican Republic for their generous assistance.

“Thank you, we’ve had the most amazing holiday,”

writes one person. “The holiday of a lifetime,” writes another. “Our best holiday ever, we don’t want to go home,” writes a third. These are just a small sample of the quotes from the guest book at Villa Vieux Caribe, a five-bedroom villa overlooking Providenciales’ Taylor Bay and its 1/4 mile curve of white sand beach.

Available to rent from $5,400 to $7,200 per week, this magnificent villa on Ocean Point Drive off Chalk Sound Road has rapidly secured a loyal following of happy holiday-makers as a result of its location and beauty.

For those of you who haven’t yet had the opportunity to visit the Islands, Chalk Sound is one of the most beautiful areas in Providenciales. A long sliver of land separates the ocean side from the sound with a narrow opening at the west end. This bottleneck has allowed Chalk Sound to slowly trap marine sediment in its shallow waters, giving it a stunningly incandescent blue-green glow. The ocean side, on which Vieux Caribe is located, encompasses two of the island’s most peaceful beaches–especially pleasant for young children–at Sapodilla Bay and Taylor Bay.

Vieux CaribeVieux Caribe’s three stories take full advantage of Ocean Point’s elevated position to provide a commanding view over Taylor Bay and the endless ocean horizon beyond. The house itself is equally as beautiful. Built only a few years ago by owner/developer Henry Moog and his wife Dinah, the house hides its size from the driveway approach. Mature landscaping to either side ushers guests to its Brazilian black walnut double-door entrance. Stepping across the threshold, the size of the building becomes apparent due to the high ceilings and spacious ground-level layout. Straight out in front, a blue-on-blue panorama is revealed, encompassing sky and the large swimming pool/patio, accessible through three glass-paneled double doors.

The main living area has been tastefully decorated and includes a large sofa and plenty of comfortable armchairs. Intricate metalwork adorns the main wall with a small writing bureau in the corner. Tucked away in a full-length cupboard is the house entertainment system including large-screen television, DVD player and CD stereo. Ceiling fans add to the cool breeze swirling in off the ocean, making it an ideal spot to kick back in the heat of the day, read a book, chat or watch a good movie. Central air conditioning is also available for those every-so-often “dog days.”

When it comes to meal time, preparing anything from a light snack to a three-course dinner is sure to be a pleasure in the beautifully finished and fully equipped kitchen. Dishwasher, trash-compactor, icemaker and a host of other labor-saving devices can be found, as well ample provisions of glass and dishware. There is even a substantial butcher’s block and large oval dining table. The ground floor is completed by a large bedroom with king-size bed and ensuite bathroom, which looks out on the swimming pool patio.

The pool area is sprawling, with the rectangular pool occupying the centre of the patio. As well as a wrought-iron table and chair set, there are ample sun-loungers for every guest, a small wet bar and even a gas BBQ. Lush greenery adorns the edges of the patio and provides good privacy. A small gate at the far end leads to a wooden boat dock and the shallow waters of Taylor Bay.

There’s nothing quite like hanging in a hammock, gently swinging to and fro, while a cooling breeze wafts over you. It’s all the better if that hammock is directly off your bedroom and is blessed with some of the most scenic vistas on the island. That is the case for guests who take the two bedrooms on the second floor which share a large common deck (where the hammocks hang) overlooking the rear of the house and pool. Each has a king-size bed and, as do all rooms, comes with plenty of cupboard and drawer space, televisions and tiled ensuite bathroom. Also on this level is a utility cupboard with washer and dryer. The top floor is home to the final two bedrooms, both with two queen beds, and there is a second utility room.

Vieux Caribe recalls the days of yore when leisure time was spent under slow-moving fans with palm fronds casting long shadows in the quiet afternoon. A paradise in paradise.

It’s been some nine years since Florida-based writer Bill Belleville first addressed the issue of eco-tourism in Times of the Islands (Spring 1992). Then he called it “environmental and economic sense” and went on to state, “as this island chain (Turks & Caicos) edges up to a crossroads in its development destiny, it now has a very real option to choose eco-tourism as a direction . . . and one, that if properly played out, could boost the economy, preserve the environment, and provide meaningful, culturally-connected jobs for native Belongers.”

Almost a decade later, there is little in the way of true eco-tourism in the Turks & Caicos Islands. In the last five years, traditional tourism-related development has been both vast and fast, with all-inclusive resorts, hotels and condominium projects appearing at every turn and the numbers of tourists arriving each season also growing dramatically (from 120,898 in 1999 to 151,372 in 2000). The trend is set to continue and with the Islands opening up to European vacationers in the near future–via service from the U.K. by British Airways–the “high” season is only going to increase in length, not shorten and visitor impact escalate, not lessen.

However, the price of success can be high and already the impact of tourism on the ecology of the Islands can be seen, as highlighted by Marsha Pardee Woodring’s recent article, “Reef Relief” (Times of the Islands, Winter 2000/01). Thankfully the Turks & Caicos government has recognised the danger and through the efforts of several of its agencies and individuals–such as the National Parks Advisory Council, the Ministry of Natural Resources and the Department of Environmental and Coastal Resources–is taking steps to address the problem.
But what of true eco-tourism as described in Belleville’s insightful article? Thankfully, there is one locally owned and run company on Providenciales that has embraced eco-tourism and is leading the way, so-to-speak.

On the surface, Big Blue Unlimited looks like most other dive operations. Based out of Leeward Marina, this small-but-growing company caters to small groups of divers, but there the comparison ends. It’s not only their state-of-the-art catamaran dive boats or their unusual logo that hint at something more, but also the numerous sea kayaks hanging patiently beside the dock and the office walls covered in maps, pictures and descriptions of some of the island’s land-based treasures.

Big Blue Unlimited was founded in the season of 1997/98 by Belongers Bobby Lavard and Phillip Shearer and at the time included Mark Parrish. (Coincidentally, this also happened to be the International Year of the Reef, which seems especially appropriate to Big Blue’s outlook.) In the last 12 months they have grown and added three more staff members, as well as a second boat to the operation. However, it’s Mark and new recruit Morgan Luker, in particular, who have been developing their eco-tourism operation, largely via their increasingly popular eco-adventure trips. Mark’s philosophy for these trips mirrors the principles of eco-tourism, in that he sees it as “a balance of using natural resources and the natural environment to promote trips that put back into the local community as well as realising a commercial profit.”

Some of the eco-adventure trips are actually kayak tours of varying lengths around some of the TCI’s most ecologically sensitive, important and beautiful coastline. Mark presently runs four “short-tours” per week departing from the dockside at Leeward to cover the short stretch to Mangrove Cay directly opposite. “One of the reasons these are becoming so popular is that you need absolutely no kayaking experience,” says Mark. “That and you get to see first-hand wildlife that most visitors don’t even realise is there, let alone ever get to see,” he adds.

Having experienced one of Mark’s trips for myself, I can attest to how easy, educational and, at the same time, fun, it was. In our gentle three-hour journey we saw juvenile sharks and turtles, upside-down jellyfish, a multitude of birds including whimbrels, herons and egrets, and a variety of other life too numerous to mention.

For someone who is as passionate about preserving the natural ecology of areas like the mangroves, you might be forgiven for thinking that the tour might turn out to be more like a lecture, but that’s never the case. Mark has a natural ability to tailor his input to the wishes of each trip’s participants. “Some people want to learn about everything they see, while others are content to just enjoy the scenery and serenity of it all, while only wishing to know superficial detail about what they are seeing,” he says.

Education is only one facet of eco-tourism, and as important as the protection of and education about a particular location’s ecology is the economic aspect. As world travel expands and countries such as the Turks & Caicos become more accessible, they find themselves at the centre of a tourism boom, which can change their economy forever. Local residents in traditional industries particular to each location, such as fishing and farming, can’t hope to compete with the money to be made by working in the new pre-packaged and sanitised, tourism-driven economy and so they leave to work in resorts, hotels, restaurants and bars–in many cases leaving important aspects of their culture behind.

What a tourism boom can provide, if managed and catered for properly, is the utilisation of natural resources to create sustainable income for locally owned businesses and individuals. In fact, studies have shown that the nature tourist actually leaves more money behind in a country than traditional recreational tourists, especially those staying at expensive all-inclusives.

Big Blue is addressing this issue by working with local people on the islands of North and Middle Caicos. As well as his short eco-adventure tour to Mangrove Cay, Mark is slowly building up trips to these two nearby islands. “Both North and Middle Caicos are ideal for half and full day eco-tours,” says Mark. “We take a boat over to North and, once there, take advantage of the smooth roads and lack of traffic to explore by bike areas like the town of Kew, the Wade’s Green plantation ruins and Cottage Pond before returning in the afternoon.”

“For our Middle Caicos hiking trips, we fly over in the morning with Global Airways and then hire Walter Hall or Ashton Harvey as guides for the day, while Hormel Harvey and Cardinal Arthur also double as taxi drivers and cave guides. It’s by utilising local knowledge and services to create economic alliances like these that we can not only build our business, but provide sustainable income for the resident population,” says Mark.

As well as building business relationships with local residents on other islands, Big Blue is building them with the government agencies whose job it is to help protect the history and ecology of the Islands. In particular, they are providing free space in their marina-side office for a National Trust information centre, out of which will operate the Trust’s Little Water Cay warden.

It’s this kind of proactive eco-tourism that will play an increasingly important role in protecting not only the ecology of the Islands, but the future economic prosperity of many families and individuals.

For more information, visit www.bigblue.tc or call (649) 946-5034.

“You should eat something,” said Juan. It was now 2:00 in the afternoon and I’d been feeling sea-sick all morning and not touched a thing. “You’re right. I think I’ll have my banana,” I replied.

“Your what? A banana!,” he exclaimed. At that moment the whole crew of Below Me, all seven of them, spun round and stared at me in complete disbelief. “Quick, where is it? Get it off the boat fast! Oh, I don’t believe it, no wonder,” the cries went up from all of them in a cacophony of complaint and despair. I held up the offending item for a split second before it was grabbed and cast overboard with the zeal of a Major League pitcher.

For the next 10 minutes, it was carefully and politely explained–along, of course, with some half serious ideas about what should happen to transgressors–that bringing a banana on a fishing boat was just about as bad luck as you could get. This would seem to have been true, as about an hour earlier we caught and then lost, what was estimated to be a 250+ pound blue marlin–at the time the crew’s only bite from two previous days of fishing! With my lesson learnt, I looked at Juan: “Er, guys,” I said sheepishly, “I brought two . . .”

That morning it was a Monday on Providenciales, and a public holiday at that, so it was with some mild annoyance to say the least, that my girlfriend woke me and, in no uncertain terms, asked me to turn off the alarm clock on my side of the bed. It was 5:30 AM. I had been invited by Carter Takacs to spend the day on his fishing boat, Below Me, which was taking part in the annual Turks & Caicos Classic Billfish Tournament. The night before, Carter had given me two pieces of sound advice: “Don’t be late, we leave at 7:00 AM, and have some breakfast.” The alarm ensured I wasn’t, and I did.

On arriving at the boat I was met by Roger, an old hand at sport fishing and longtime friend of Carter’s, and helped him in setting up the boat and getting ice for the all important beer. By 7:15, Carter had arrived along with Brian and Steve, so I was dispatched to nearby Turtle Cove Inn to raise Andreas, co-owner of the boat, and Juan, from their slumbers after a heavy night of telling fishing stories at the Tiki Hut.

With everyone finally press-ganged into action and onboard, we set off. Carter was at the helm while the rest tucked into the scrambled eggs and hash browns Steve’s wife Mary had prepared. I passed on the offer, a decision I was shortly to be thankful for. Within half an hour of passing the reef, my machismo in turning down my girlfriend’s offer of sea-sickness pills was fading as fast as I was turning green.

The next few hours passed slowly in a haze of sea-sickness and frustration at watching the rest of the guys have a great morning of eating, drinking and good old-fashioned banter. (Some of it, it has to be said, at my expense!)

It seems that big game fishing is about 95% waiting and 5% action. Thankfully, one of the benefits of fishing in the deep blue waters around the Turks & Caicos, voted as one of the top 20 blue marlin sites in the world by Sport Fishing magazine, is that there is always something to catch.

Indeed, there are at least three experienced sport fishing charter operators on Provo, who will be delighted to take both the experienced and first timers on full or half day trips. As the first-timer on this trip I hadn’t appreciated just how fast the calm can be broken when the marlin takes one of the big lures trailing behind the boat. I was lying on my back gazing at the ceiling and feeling a little better when there was a click and one of the reels starting whizzing and losing line. “Fish in the spread,” the cry went up and within seconds the boat exploded in a maelstrom of activity. “I’m in the chair,” shouted Andreas as he dexterously hopped in, avoiding rods and lines. The other crew members cleared the other lines and handed the now ensconced Andreas the rod on which our first, and as it turned out, only, catch of the day was battling strongly, jumping, turning and twisting in the air about 30 metres back from the boat.

All this happened so fast, I barely had time to sit up straight and grab my camera to shoot the action before it was all over. After only a couple of minutes the fish had managed to slip the hook and get away. Juan, Andreas and the rest were disconsolate after seeing their only catch in two and half days of fishing disappear in an explosion of white water. An hour or so later of course, their bad luck was being blamed on me and my bananas.

The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully, which was all the more frustrating as over the radio we could hear the other boats in the competition calling in to register a catch. Some, like us that day, lost their fish but we listened as Brian Belvin on the Lady Suzanne battled with what turned out to be an almost 500 pound marlin for an incredible six hours.

Back on the dock with the boat hosed down and cleaned up, I was saying my good-byes to the guys and thanking them for an excellent day when Carter thrust a yellow raincoat into my hands with the words: “Where do you think you’re going?” Several minutes later, and to the amusement of the rest of the guys and many on the dock, my fate was complete as I swung upside down from a nearby pole dressed in my yellow mack holding a sign that could say only one thing.

So for anyone thinking of going sport fishing, I’d highly recommend it. It’s great fun and a thoroughly enjoyable way to spend a day. Just remember the sea-sickness tablets, plenty of cold beer and . . . NO BANANAS!

Despite asking numerous fishermen, it seems no one can explain why bananas on a fishing boat are bad luck. It appears to be another old wive’s tale. Sorry, wives.