Chasing Ghosts on the flats of Little Cayman

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This is somewhat a delayed post considering it took place over the back end of 2008, but I came across the photos and felt it was a worthy adventure to write about: Caribbean Island, palm trees, tropical fish…in December. Why not?

Throwing out hand lines for jack with local cook and barman / Photo by Nick Weston

I suppose the trip all came down to fishing, a sport few consider to be enjoyable, but that all depends on how you do it. I have expressed my disdain in the past for the pointless bastards that sit atop boxes and throw ridiculous amounts of ground bait into the water in the hope of attracting a fish (regardless of size) to the hook. What an absolute waste of time! Fishing is about outwitting the fish…Stalking it and tempting the slippery bugger with a single morsel it cannot refuse in the most simplistic of ways.

The people who turn around and say fishing is boring, say it because they have never caught a fish…of worthy proportions. To feel your line suddenly tug and pull away creates the most exciting, heart-jumping of moments a human being could wish to have, its all about ‘the take’, the fight is just about getting the fish in to the net and proving you ability of how not to lose a fish.

Tropical islands and me are the best of friends, I hate the cold, why I haven’t found a way of skipping Britain’s dismal winters is a mystery to me, but I am working on it, believe me! Little Cayman is to the northeast of Grand Cayman and fairly small: 10 miles long and 1 mile wide, stepping of the equally small plane out into the tropical humidity was glorious: the smell, the sounds and the fact that I had 2 weeks to explore this lush paradise both in and out of the water. The island is known for it’s diving, in particular the bloody bay wall, a sheer drop from the edge of the reef down to the ocean floor 3000ft! That’s deep.

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