Isla Non Grata (Cont.) | Outside Online

You Are Here:

Home >> Travel >> Isla Non Grata (Cont.)

Today's Question
Where should I camp in Switzerland with my kids? answer

What's the best volcano to hike up in North America? answer

How can I plan a trip around riding the biggest, fastest roller coasters? answer

Online Favorites

Special Issues

Photo Galleries

Outside Magazine's 2002 Travel Guide

Page:

Isla Non Grata (Cont.)

Schwagerl mentioned a 30-foot ladder on the southwest cliffs. "It's a chain ladder that's pretty much rusted apart," he said. "We almost killed ourselves getting on the island." As we round the sharp tip of Navassa I spot the ladder clinging to the cliffs inside what the chart calls "Lulu Bay," named by some cartographer who was probably dating a girl named Lulu at the time. Dear Lulu, I hate to break it to you, but the bay is a farce, unless you consider a slight depression in the sea-ravaged rock to be a bay.

We anchor Lucy in 70 feet of clear, cobalt-colored water about 50 feet from the cliffs. I decide to start my reconnaissance underwater. The bottom is devoid of reef. Instead there's a dense mesh of sponges and elkhorn corals that ramble across the sand, like cacti in a desert. Because the bottom around Navassa slopes off so dramatically, the underwater rock terraces here are flat and deep. Away from the wall, scuba diving underneath Lucy, I find a parrot fish as long as my arm and a jewfish the size of a small car.

What blew the minds of the ichthyologists on the FWS survey were not the large fish. Instead, it was the tiny gobies and other rockfish living in the coral. Here, in three weeks, the team catalogued 242 species of fish, four of which are endemic to Navassa waters. I poke my snout among the rocks, sniffing about for the scent of biological discovery. Mostly what I find are majestic overhangs, mysterious caves, rock pinnacles, and miles of peacock-blue sea that roll off into the deep nothingness of the Cayman Trench. It's pretty damn cool. It's also exhausting, given that a steady two-knot ocean current rips through Lulu Bay and I have to swim like a dog just to keep from drifting off to Jamaica.

The sky is dark when I emerge from the water. The atmosphere has that heavy, low-pressure feeling like a moldy towel. I wonder if a squall is coming.

Page: