A Shark's Tale from Salt Cay

It was the celebration of my aunt’s 50th birthday that took us to Salt Cay, the smallest inhabited island in the Turks & Caicos. It’s impossible to describe such a place in a few short phrases. Salt Cay is an island which has lived several lives. Though the native donkeys outnumber its human residents, the spirit of the people is the lifeblood of what I would call the crown jewel of Turks & Caicos.

Though our charter flight from Providenciales was not without its own set of stories, our descent into Salt Cay was magnificent and otherworldly. It had all of the makings of a Pirates of the Caribbean film, without the fiction. (It’s notable that the name Turks & Caicos derives from an old slang term for pirates and a phrase used for a chain of islands.) Upon our unceremonious exit from the tiny Cessna 402 which had delivered us to the island, we were greeted by two men who wear many hats, but whom I think fondly of as Captain Ranfurly Been and Bernard. 

Ranfurly and Bernard became dear friends throughout our adventures, and excellent teachers about the natural world. We enjoyed our time clamming, fishing, sharing meals, and having a few drinks together as the week progressed, but no adventure was as great as our trip to Big Sand Cay.

Big Sand Cay is the most remote, uninhabited island in the Turks & Caicos chain, known as the gateway to the Dominican Republic. It is completely uninhabited by humans but hosts countless birds, iguanas, sea turtles, whales, sharks, and some heavy equipment which was abandoned there when the law was closing in on an illegal treasure hunting operation in the late 1990s.

It was here that Ranfurly and Bernard helped fulfill one of my greatest wishes in life — to swim alongside a shark in its natural environment, unprovoked, unbaited, naturally, and peacefully. We let it happen naturally, splitting our time between looking for sharks, hiking, and learning to hunt for lobsters and conch. All of those experiences were unforgettable, but none so much, in my book, as when a single female nurse shark appeared in the water. Bernard called me to her quickly. I was nervous as I threw on my snorkel and ducked under the water, but the moment I laid eyes on her, my nerves immediately dissolved. We only shared a few moments together, but she was grand — more majestic than I could have ever imagined. We studied each other carefully for a moment. I can’t imagine what she thought of a strange gangly alien in her world. She was gorgeous. Her beautiful dark skin and curious eyes made me feel small. I still feel small when I think about her, but she’s kept me wondering at the world beyond our short moment in time.

While Salt Cay might be coined “The Island That Time Forgot,” it certainly doesn’t forget to teach quiet lessons, provide great friends, and foster an incredible love for the natural world.