A Cuban Beach

 

I had a break from the Canadian Winter and a chance to walk a beach on
The Isle of Pines, Cuba's largest Island other than Cuba itself. Behind me are a lot of tourists
yet facing southeast it was unspoiled. At low tide the two wrack lines of the previous high tides are visible.
The bottom was white coral sand untouched and smooth. It was a joy to walk here away from the crowds. Imagine the millions of sea creatures, shells and coral that, pounded by the waves of centuries, have been crushed to the fine grains seen here.

Close up you can see the coral and shells slowly being turned to sand by the clear waters of the
Caribbean. My footprints were the only ones here and soon the tide will erase them as well.
Walking back I chose the vegetation line and discovered some of the local flowers, which I cannot name but enjoyed immensely just for the opportunity to view them.

Too soon it seems, the horn sounds to return to the ship and this beautiful beach will again be deserted. Or will it? Only man will be gone, leaving the coral, flowers, shells and seabirds to their natural habitat as it has been for hundreds of years. As I walked back a Grey Pelican followed me as if to make sure that all of us left his domain as it was before we intruded.

What a wonderful day for a Beach Walk.






                                       

Boats and a Beach Walk

                                          Photo: S E Ingraham, by permission.
From my journals, October 2013
Living on a Boat is many things that one does not see in the glossy magazine ads. A lot of work is involved keeping my home shipshape and one must always be preparing for the future.
With winter on the horizon, one of those items is to fill my diesel tanks for heating and emergency generator use should the power go out in mid winter. There is no fuel available in our Bay so a pleasant 9 mile cruise to the west brings me to Bluffers Park and the Marina there. I was their only customer that beautiful midweek Autumn day and they were happy to see my 1000 litre fill.
I used this opportunity to revisit a beach I have not walked since my youth.
There have been many changes in my half century of absence and I struggled to see past the stone and concrete of now to view the undeveloped shoreline of my early years.
The fine road down to the marina was once a ravine we had to traverse to steal apples from the orchard in the seminary. It then became a garbage dump to lay the foundations for the road and eventual marina. We would climb down there in the spring with smelt nets and lanterns during the smelt run. Memories of bonfires on the beach, friends from that time and the carefree joy of youth flooded back but I could only guess at the locations we used in those days. The marina development has erased almost all the old features.
Walking east brought me to more familiar views and a lesser impact from recent development.
Here the Bluffs are at their highest and I recognised the paths where I and my friends would climb down to spend the day. One of my best friends had a home that backed to the highest point yet it had a good path to the shore. This was our normal route to the beach.
Walking further, I came to the area of the home where I grew up, not visible from where I was at the top of the Bluffs but still recognisable in my memories.
I looked for the wreck of the Alexandria , a paddle steamer that was driven ashore a century past, but new shoreline works have removed all traces.
Nothing remains the same.
And some things never change.
The waves still kiss the shore and the beach goes on.
Walking back to my boat I reflect on those times. The responsibilities of adulthood had yet to impact our lives and our only duty to the day was to be home before the street lights came on.
I wonder what the youth of today would see on this beach if they would only take a moment to lift their eyes from their texting and look at the majesty surrounding them.
I truly enjoyed this day and my walk on this beach.
I enjoyed my memories.

An Icicle Kiss

The deep cold that has invaded from the north has frozen the lake far out by night and
wave action has made icicles on the pilings. A small wind by day is enough to break this
ice cover up into plate sized sheets and pile it at the shore.

The poet Lonnie Hicks wrote in "An Icicle Kiss" that icicles are the winter's flowers.
He might well have described today's frigid beach which, despite the cold and dark clouds
to the east, presents a stark beauty here. A small patch of sunlight breaking through to the west
lights up this canvas.
The simplicity is beyond words.

Pondering winter's artistry, I decide that today's walk shall be a brief one.

Losing a Friend

No beach walk today, it is cold and snow squalls are forecast.
Instead, I ponder the loss of a friend.
Marinus was a tall soft spoken Dutchman and a member of our Yacht Club for many years.
A Veterinarian, he had a gentle manner and a ready smile for all. He loved his wife and family
and they shared his love of sailing in return.
I never saw him in a bad mood and he was always there to lend a hand when needed.
In his 70's he still skied, played hockey and was looking forward to a summer of sailing.
A Swallow built a nest on my anchor one year and Marinus would climb up to the bow to check on the young and try to guess how many days remained before I could move the boat. Neither he nor I wanted to interrupt the little lady until her young had flown.
He was a truly happy man in a world where few are as content as he.

Fair Winds Marinus.

We will miss you.

Beaver Tales

A beaver has been busy around the docks lately.
His home is at the north end of our bay and the ice is thick up there right now.
Perhaps hunger has driven him down here as a 4 inch thick poplar was cut down by
him on the beach a few days ago. Only the stump and a few chips remain and there
is no sign of the rest of it. Typically a beaver will cut this up into manageable chunks
and stick them in the bottom mud for later snacking. I don't know how long this will
sustain a beaver so I watch for other stumps to appear on my walks.
As in past years, I know there will be a lot of floating branches, with every bit of bark
removed, floating in the bay when the ice goes out in a few weeks.
A beaver must keep busy to survive.

Snowy Owl

 

                                  

From March 2014



Owl hunts small rabbit
beach grasses give good cover
blood drips on ice

 

Age

From December 1 2012

The first day of the last month of the year and I am walking on the bay side of the west spit today.
It is a nicer walk than the lake side in this weather.
The wind is blowing sand on the beach.
The waves are pounding in from the southeast.
It is cold, a foretelling of winter to come.
At the western end of the bay is a protected area of marsh, brush and cattails.
A pleasant place on a warm summer day and nesting grounds for many species of birds.
Here stands a lone Great Blue Heron at the waters edge.
As his fellows have headed south over 4 weeks ago one wonders if this one is injured, sick or
simply too old to make the journey and has chosen to spend his remaining time here at the bay.
Nature makes no concessions in the grand scheme of life.