Bahamian Rhapsody

By midweek I have paddled only a few strokes and have become a firm believer in sailing kayaks. The southeast winds continue, effortlessly pushing us north through the islands. We have entered Exuma Cays Land and Sea Park, a protected section of the islands designed to preserve the natural splendor from human impact. Sitting in the bow, I lazily watch white-tailed tropic birds soar overhead, their lengthy swallowlike tails streaming in the trade winds. On nearby beaches, tangerine-colored conch shells lie scattered in the white sand, exposed by the falling tide. Anywhere else, these shells would be in a gift shop for sale; in the Exumas they cover the beaches in their natural state. In the warm shallows, a huge gray-colored ray, almost five feet wide, hovers along the flat, sandy bottom. Colorful yellow banaquits, tiny birds similar to warblers, sing atop thatch palms.

"What kind of tracks are these?" asks Mike, one of our group, as we land on a deserted beach to camp. The tracks are unlike any I've seen, huge claws with a large tail trough down the middle.

"Iguanas! Iguanas!" Bardy excitedly hollers, just as a couple of big brown lizards stride onto the beach. Bahamian iguanas once inhabited many of the islands and are native to the area. Human impact has caused these archaic lizards to all but disappear in the Exumas. These particular iguanas, which have white numbers painted on their sides, were apparently reintroduced to this cay as part of a research project. We see number 9, then number 6, and finally "big number 5" slowly swaggers onto the beach. This grandaddy is huge, almost five feet long, and has a surly attitude to match.

"I've camped here in the past, and we have never had iguanas," Bardy explains. "This is really special. Tonight we will have to practice iguana camping."

Iguana camping is similar to bear camping; the object is to keep your food away from the animal. Unlike bears, though, these Jurassic Park lizards are relatively harmless. Anytime one comes near our kitchen, simply walking toward it sends the iguana scurrying into the palms. At one point I'm relaxing on the beach when Bardy tells me to look over my shoulder. Directly behind me is Big Number 5, his stealthy approach undetected. His beady eye stares at me--this feels like a showdown. I slowly get up and face my opponent. I take a step toward him...nothing happens...then another step...nothing...hmmm...his tongue darts out...hmmm...what does that mean? Then slowly he turns and wanders back into the bushes. Showdown on Iguana Island is over.