Month: October 2016

For my birthday I was treated to my first dive in the Caribbean and I am hooked! I dived at Sunset House Dive School click here.

Just incredible an hour of theory and training in the pool before hitting the sea. 

It was magical. The fish and the coral were stunning. 

We flew, swimming does not describe it, in 50 foot of crystal clear water surrounded by sea life. Jacks, grouper, parrot fish, lion fish, trumpet fish and barracudas all colours and sizes.

The high point was rounding a coral outcrop and there she was, just stunning, she just took my breath away!

8 foot of mermaid! Click here

She is beautiful and you just hover there in front of her it’s like being in a cathedral.

I’ve already signed up for my full PADI Course! 

After I sat at the bar overlooking the sea enjoying an ice cold beer and a cheese burger and watched the sun go down. Just perfect!

Our first visitors arrived this week to spend half term with us and despite the utterly relentless rain we have had a good time! The rain has been torrential at times but we have managed to snatch time out between down pours.

Roger and Sally arrived bang on time at 3:55pm on Monday.

A tour of the island and lunch at Rum Point. Mud Sldes are lovely!

We had a visit to Starfish Point. We saw 105 Starfish the most we have seen in one visit.

On the way back we came round past Eastend and stopped to see the sights, including a garden full of concrete creatures and the Blow Holes. (James is wearing his skateboard knee pads, his knees are currently shredded from falling off a couple of times…).

The National Gallery proved a welcome distraction from the rain.

Ching Chings at Smith’s Cove.

Landing fish at Smith’s Cove.

These tide in nicely with James’s art homework, he took some lovely photos in Soth Sound and the. Had to interpret them in different mediums. 

We had a lovely meal out at Casanova’s Italian…though note to self they include the service charge so don’t tip as well!

It is all quite exhausting really and despite her protestations to the contry she is still our baby…

We have reached a big milestone today! 

Half term in our new jobs and new schools! 

After a whirlwind three months I sit here on the veranda with a glass of wine, music playing and a cat curled up on my feet and as my staff are so fond of saying, “breath”. 

Tonight I ur resident owls are circling, a mated pair who have claimed our road as their own, they are like grey ghosts flying up and down the road each night. Sometimes they hoot and screech. Other nights they are completely silent. This evening they flew past me as I was getting out of the car, no more than four feet off the ground and only three feet away, they did not make a sound just glided past. They are big birds too, they did not half make me jump!

The frogs in the garden are ‘pipping’ and ‘chirping’ little wet, falling water sounds all around in the dark. The frogs are tiny, they could sit on a penny, tiny and perfect.

It began to sink in this week this is my second headship! Now that’s a claim. Head of two different schools on two sides of the world, cool. 

Oriel had a visit from OFSTED this week. Not being there was really strange and while part of me was immeasurable pleased not to be there it was like sitting in the waiting room at the maternity ward or watching you kids compete knowing they are on their own. I felt helpless. The outcome of the inspection will I guess reflect the performance of the team over the two days, the work they have done this last half term and just how ingrained the legacy I left behind is. I am confident they will do well but it is a two week wait for the report…

Meanwhile here in the Caribbean we are feeling settled, Vic had her second visit to The Brac, I am quite jealous really as it is quite an adventure, still I will get out there! Yes I will! 

The children are enjoying school and finding their feet, Poppy is thriving! And I am loving Prospect. My staff, the buggers, do have a habit of seeing me coming a switching to a thick patois to try to catch me out but I am learning the lingo fast and have been surprising them by showing them I know exactly what they have said. ‘Wagwan‘ goes a long way, especially if followed by a kiss of the teeth and drawling ‘foolishness!’ My lot think it’s really funny. I think they think I am rather eccentric, little do they know just how eccentric!

My Year 6 have heritage lessons on a Wednesday learning about traditional Cayman craft and culture. The lessons are amazing, this week they were looking at traditional Cayman weaving. I asked Mr Christian who leads the session if he could point me in the direction of where I could get a traditional Cayman hat.  

Two hours later I was the proud owner of this freshly made beauty! My new duty hat, practical and stylish. That’s right a hand woven Caymanian Sun hat!

Oh the beard? Well that is me getting ready for Pirates Week. Cayman’s National Week when it all goes a bit piraty round here. My great, great, great, great, great Aunt Mary, Mary Read, was a local pirate of some renown so I reckon I stand in good stead and even if the genealogy is a bit suspect it’s a good story and one that goes down well here. 

‘And how do you spell Read? Is it Reid?’ Comes the question.

‘Nope’ says I, ‘R, E, A, D, like the pirate.’  

‘Oh,’ comes the response full of a new found respect and acceptance (I imagine). 

The Caymanians love to find a familial link when they meet a new person. Often their first question on meeting is ‘who ya for,’ followed by a long  mutual exploration (well not that long, it’s a small island) of family trees until a common link is found. It’s normally about two degrees of separation… the Kevin Bacon Game has really short rounds here as most people share great grandparents. But their is real delight when clan and family links are made and shared histories and family tales quickly follow.

I reckon chief family tree tracer Gubby will be able to confirm my bonifidies… dad? A simple yes will suffice to prove my link to the black sheep of the family and establish my credentials as having local connections! 

Poppy and I have matching smashed toes this week.

Hers from a door, mine from a rock on the beach, mine has meant a trip (no pun) to A&E and four follow up visits to the doctor but, fingers crossed, it is on the mend! James thought it was all very funny until Marcel inducted him to the club on Wednesday night by biting and scratching his foot while he slept. Victoria is breathing a sign of relief as she reckons three toes in plasters is the full set and she is safe!

When questioned about the Curious Incident of the Toe in the Night Time he said he was innocent, and with those big eyes who can help but believe him!

On the way home, for dinner, tonight I stopped at Da Kit Chin and picked up festival and pork.

Now it might not look much but people drive for miles to get food here and there is always a line of customers around the corner, the food is great! I suppose it fills the niche in the food chain that fish and chips does in the UK. Festival is a local bread.

And if prof were needed that it has been a busy three months…

Sleepy girl and sleepy cats.

So half term and we have our first visitors on their way. Roger and Sally are coming out for a ten day stay so I reckon we will go sailing, head up to Rum Point, go on the submarine, head out to Sting Ray City, do Brunch at the Westin and bum around on the beach… sounds like a plan to me anyway.

So the reviews are in:

On 16 Oct,  Jean Passepartout wrote,

You ok? Storm passed over but it didn’t stop you using hyperbole and unnecessary imagery in your ‘blog’. Awful. I wretched. 

I was writing your birthday card. (Yes 50 this year). What do you need that I can send out. I here they are short of spoons. What do you miss and what do you need? Please bare in mind I have limitless resources plus a blood feud against the entire area. 

Saw Our mutual friend  (his name has been omitted to protect the innocent) at lunch and that was nice. Went to the Phoenix, The Saatchi Gallery and a bookshop. We moaned a bit. Which was nice too. Been a tough few days. But, I have decided that the important things render everything else the less important. 

Yours, 

Passepartout

_________________________________________________________________
My Dear Jean,
For our mutual amusement I have entitled my reply:

And the pot called the kettle black…
The Pot, for it was only a poor thing made of metal, did not know it was black.

Years of hanging over the sooty open fire had slowly turned the once shiny pot to the darkest black. Encrusted with years of fire filth and grime from poor cooking, it had built up layer upon layer of rust, dust, soot and silt until eventually it was blacker than darkest night.

The dim light that filtered through the moss tinged kitchen window of the run down shack was hungrily absorbed by the shadow surface of the pot, sucked deep inside never to reflect back into the gloomy room.

Day after day, year after year that old pot hung over the fire, its contents bubbling. An endless stew of old mutton, hare, age softened vegetables, whatever meagre fare its broken old owner could find.

Never washed. Never emptied. The battered old pot hung over the insipid fire every so often dimly recalling a time when it had been new.

It hung sullenly in its dimmly lit nook resenting the fire, resenting the gloom and thinking dark thoughts. It swung listlessly muttering and moaning, bubbling and groaning and from time to time vaguely remembering when it had been mirrored and unblemished. Unaware of how time and long use had changed it, the scars it now bore and the colour it now wore.

Very few things in this world are or were as black as that old pot. Over the years the blackness that painted its outside penetrated its cold metal heart until it was as dark within as without.

And yet, it did not know.

One day the old hermit who dwelt in that gloomy abode shuffled in from the cold outside.

Wrapped in poor rags and still peppered with snow from the winter world outside he shuffled stiffly to the fire place and dumped down an old threadbare sack.

Hacking and spitting, wretching and coughing he spat into the flames, the gob of green glistening sputum glowing briefly, like an emerald meteor, before burning out in the flickering flames of the poor fire with a damp hiss.

Reaching into his bag he pulled out a brand new enamelled kettle and filling it from an ancient bucket he hung it next to the old pot.

The old pot turned and saw the kettle and with a sneer he greeted the newcomer in a voice full of gloom and with not a hint of irony or self awareness it mumbled, “God you’re so black…”

‘Hyperbole and unnecessary imagery’ have you read your own emails lately? ‘The important things render…’ trite nonsense! At least the tripe I write is cheerful and upbeat…

And it’s ‘hear’ you donkey, if you are going to take the piss put a little effort in, otherwise it just seems lazy!

Thank you for your concern, we are OK for spoons. A container load arrived from Mexico just before Hurricane Matthew hit, they are not Sheffield Steal but as cheap pressed metal spoons go they are not bad. The edges are a bit sharp but I think that is because they are designed to be used both as soup eating implements and for eye gouging.

How are you for Marmite? I could FedEx you some. I hear things are pretty difficult over there what with Brexit and the Nazis being back in power.

The families in my school community have put together a collection of food, drinking water and hygiene products that they were going to send to Haiti. But even after the devastation of the last few weeks, upon hearing your story and reading about your plight in the Daily Mail their sense is that with the plunging pound, Chorizo prices rocketing and Evian and L’oreal becoming unaffordable, due to an unfavourable exchange rate with the Euro, you may need it more. Remember winter is coming. Expect a container from us soon, it will be the one with the big Red Cross on the side smelling of sunshine.

In terms of your generous offer, as regards my birthday, there is a picture in a local gallery that you could contribute towards. (But if you do, could you wire the money from your overseas account because the £ is worth bubkiss and I will get better value for your gift if you send it from outside the UK).

With fondest regards your dear friend,

Phileas Fogg

Marcel has objected to this post as he thinks he may actually be blacker that the pot described in the story…

I have tried to explain it is just a s story but he does not get it because he is a cat!

P.

I have mentioned before that Sunday is a quiet day here. With almost everything closed for the day you have to make your own fun. So this week we went for a picnic. 

OK so the picnic was on a catamaran called the Allura.

We met the boat over at the Yacht Club and set off across North Sound for the day. A day relaxing, drinking beer, snorkelling, swimming and sailing.

After a week of worrying about the weather it was blissful. Clear Blue skies, calm seas and a gentle breeze to take the edge off the heat.

We headed out to the reef for an hour before having lunch with the stingrays and an onboard picnic. After our lovely lunch we headed to Starfish Point for a paddle.

Then sun drenched up went the sail and we headed back into the sunset and what had been a boatful of laughter and fun became quiet and reflective as we watched the sun sink into the sea.

A lovely day was had by all.

(Culture shock 3)

So there I am sat in my office first thing in the morning one quick SEN meeting done and it is shaping up to be a fairly normal day. When in walks Jackie Brown (not her real name but she does look like Pam Grier from the Quentin Tarantino movie of the same name and it makes us both laugh).

‘Mr Read,’ she says, ‘I am planning a visit for Year 2 and would like to charter a plane…’

My jaw hit the table.

‘What?’

‘We are planning a visit to Cayman Brac for Year Two in the summer term and I would like to charter a plane to get them there.’ She replies like it is normal. ‘Last year we took nearly 100 people.’

‘Right,’ Says I, ‘and how do we pay for this?’

‘Cake sales,’ comes the answer.

I figure that is a lot of cake!

‘That’s fine,’ says I regaining my composure, ‘ I’ll come along to help…’

Cake and a free plane ride! Whoo Hoo.

In preparing to move out here my biggest fear was hurricanes and the fact that we were coming out in hurricane season.

Eight weeks after arriving the most leathal and powerful storm to hit the Caribbean in over a decade arrived. A real monster, a beast of a storm.

So far we have been hugely lucky and Hurricane Matthew did not turn towards us. But even as I say this I feel terribly guilty and aware that our fortune has meant genuine misfortune and disaster for others and there is more to come.

Watching the news and how the storm has ravaged Haiti you get the mearest incling as to how truely terrifying living through a direct hit from a hurricane must be.

Life here in Grand Cayman is returning to normal and there is a palpable sense of just how close a call we have had.

We are still feeling the effects of Matthew. The skies are still overcast. We have had inches of rain with more to come. It has been cool, almost cold. Perhaps the most obvious sign has been that the usually calm sea has been very rough. The normally crystalline water has been turned milky by the amount of churned up sand it is carrying.

The other sign has been in people’s faces. Genuine fear and worry etched there for all to see.

The scars left by Ivan may have healed on the surface but psychological they are still raw. You can see it in people’s eyes, they look like they are going to run or burst into tears at any moment. Talking to a couple of my staff about it the other day they actually began to shake. Their hands went first and it slowly spread up their arms until you could see it in their shoulders and in the supreme effort it took to control it.

For the last week there has been no other topic of conversation. People have been near manic with stress and worry. Mobile phones have been seriptiously  kept on, browsers linked to the weather channels as the track of the storm has been followed by all, day and night.

After a week of worry no  one can quite believe the storm has chosen to go another way. No one is ready to let their guard down and to believe that we might actually be in the clear.

This time…

People keep saying to me it’s good to get your first one out of the way early. But what they are really saying is, ‘This time we seem to have gotten lucky.’

‘This time.’