jeneric journeys

Strap in…this is a long one.

The past week was steeped in adventure, camaraderie, learning new skills, and to quote Willy Wonka, “a land of pure imagination.”  We just completed a 5-day voluntourism project on a remote island (Tom Owen’s Caye, West) about 25 miles off the coast of Placencia, Belize. The fact that this tiny speck of land even has a name almost seems ridiculous since the total area is less than the size of a football field. While small in dimension, the joy it brought us was immeasurable. Once on the island, we were cut off from all phone and internet connectivity – a bonus in its own right as we got a much-needed reset away from news, social media, and the stress that comes with those things. 

The palm-tree-laden, beautiful island contained a main structure that housed two common areas, a kitchen, and a few very spartan accommodation rooms. The 5 cabanas ringing the island’s perimeter were cylindrical stone structures with tin roofs, outfitted with a bed and a shelf, and whose doors opened to the ocean. We chose a room in the main structure for the benefit of a private bathroom, while the cabanas shared two communal bathrooms. Our room was one where bugs and tiny lizards roamed freely (but never actually bothered us), and the door remained open virtually all the time to capture the constant breeze that kept us relatively comfortable. There were flush toilets and showers, which are better described as room temperature dribblers at best, and connected to holding tanks that could not always be relied upon. Electricity was provided via a generator that operated enough of the time so as to provide light, the ability to charge cameras and dive lights, and a fan at night (though we didn’t need or use it).

Yes, the accommodations were basic, but the magic of this experience was unparalleled. Joining us during our week on the island were 9 other volunteers. We ranged in age from 18 to 59 (guess who the old man was?!) with an average age of 36, and hailed from 5 countries. We may have just gotten lucky, but this group was incredible. Every single person brought enthusiasm, curiosity, wide-ranging life experiences, and a willingness to engage, which added layers of connection to a burgeoning community. Our days were blissfully long, starting with a 6:30am wake up to get ready in time for a 7:00am dive. Between the 3-4 dives per day and the amount of free time we spent snorkeling, we were underwater much of the day. The island is ringed by a shallow and fantastic coral reef just a few yards offshore, the turquoise waters beckoning to be explored. Eric especially took full advantage and quite often immediately traded his scuba tank for a snorkel – right back in the water day or night. By the end of the week, he even gained the admiration of the “youngsters” who found his excitement and unbridled energy somewhat baffling, though this likely does not come as a surprise to many of you reading this blog. Some of you even know of Eric’s decades-long quest to catch a lobster – not in a trap, but mano y mano, man against beast. We are happy to report that he can finally claim conqueror and mark that mission complete with total success. It took a few tries, but one night he emerged from a night snorkel through the pitch black darkness with his trophies in hand. The joy was pure, and his smile was even brighter the next day when the lobsters were cooked up and shared with the group. Speaking of meals, we luckily did not have to cook for ourselves as our three meals a day were deliciously prepared by Chef Alex. When not diving or snorkeling, we hung out on one of the many hammocks or lounge chairs strewn about under the palm trees, talking to our new friends or reading books. We played volleyball on the small court in the middle of the island, played board games and made up some of our own, and enjoyed the many bird species and their song. We were also treated to educational presentations by the incredibly knowledgable staff about lionfish as an invasive species and the ways in which they are destroying the reef ecosystems, as well as hopeful mitigation strategies to reduce their impact. We also learned to identify Caribbean reef fish and about Belizean culture. At night, we were dazzled by spectacular night skies with just a crescent moon and the lucky timing of the parade of planets.

With decades of scuba diving under our belts, we have always been mesmerized by the tranquility of the sea and overjoyed to be able to visit and interact with sea creatures, too many to mention. Scuba diving around these pristine island reefs was outstanding; the marine life was plentiful and the reefs serene (dayenu). But the addition of hunting lionfish took it all to an entirely new level. ReefCI is the incredible organization that operates the marine conservation service project where we became trained assassins against one of the more ominous threats to the coral reefs in the Caribbean – the lionfish!  The lionfish is voracious, beautiful, merciless, and tasty. In Belize and everywhere else in its expanding range in the Atlantic and Caribbean, the lionfish is invasive; it eats anything it can fit in its mouth and can lay up to 2 million eggs per year. With no natural predators in this hemisphere, a cadre of scuba divers armed with the deadly power of a “Hawaiian sling” spear is currently among the only mitigating forces against this threat (though research is underway for desperately needed larger-scale solutions). To add to the thrill of the hunt, lionfish are cloaked in a beautiful, feathery cloud of 18 venomous spines – the venom won’t kill you, but being stung would be a very painful and unpleasant experience and render you unable to dive or participate. 

Led by our expert dive masters, when our nemesis was spotted, one of our armed assassins would drift up to the fish. Luckily the fish don’t move quickly and since they don’t think anything can hurt them, they are not timid. While carefully controlling his or her buoyancy, our hunter would aim a fully extended arm, gripping the spring-loaded spear near its forked tip, at the fish. When released, the spear torpedoed through the water at its target. The fish, ranging in size from 7 to 19 inches with its fascinating ribbon-striped fins and venomous spines, often hovered with indifference above and around giant barrel corals. Maybe the fish sensed the novice hunter was an uncertain shot, or maybe it felt secure in its pincushion armor, but its arrogance was its downfall. As our shooter released his or her grip and the spear skewered the fish, we rejoiced in the thrill of the hunt and our ability to play a small part in the enormous task of protecting our beautiful reefs. The speared fish were carefully inserted into a ‘zookeeper’ equipped with a one way valve that allowed the spear to be removed, leaving the fish behind. The other divers pressed their hands together in underwater applause and high fives as we collectively celebrated our success. For those wondering, a kill shot was far from a certainty. Although our hit rate was likely around 70%, it was amazingly frustrating when you somehow missed from inches away or then had to chase your victim around taking multiple shots to finally send them to their watery grave. 

Following the dive, the captured fish were poured out onto the table to be dissected and analyzed or filleted and processed. In addition to making for tasty dishes, lionfish fins (the non-venomous sort) are made into beautiful jewelry, and their bones are dried and ground into a fine powder, which makes for nutritious and healthy dog treats. Finding as many ways as possible to use these invasive fish increases their value and the likelihood of them becoming a sought-after commodity. In total, our group knocked off 197 lionfish, obviously not even a smidgen of a dent given their proliferation, but something is not nothing.

The end of the week rolled around way too soon, and we vowed to return again for another meaningful experience. Back on the mainland, we took a proper shower and spent the rest of the weekend hanging out with our new friends, regaling our time together on the island, dancing the night away, and promising to keep in touch and maybe even meet up again, same time, next year.