Home and dry

Never a fan of big last nights, my last night in Bimini appropriately was an animated games night at the kitchen table while the sky cried torrentially. These meterological tears were a precursor to my own the next morning as I said goodbye to the Sharklab and the amazing team of staff and volunteers that it housed.

A function of living, working and playing together for three months, we were a tight-knit group that often sounded like a gathering of the United Nations at a comedy club.

When not sharing vulgar, side-splitting laughs about sex or poo, we discussed at length the food items we would give our left breast/nut for. Failing to find common ground there, conversation reverted back to sharks - and almost always to their claspers or cloacas. Those four topics exhausted, chatter turned to taking the piss out of someone either for their accent or where they called home.

Home and 700 meters of elevation removed from sea level and four plane rides away from Bimini, my mental state is beginning to settle down. Emotions thoroughly all over the spectrum from leaving Bimini, part of me was ready and glad to be heading back to Edmonton - even if only for a while.

Bimini Sunrise

We spent the last three nights gill-netting for the local lemons. Mini-PIT lasts three nights and takes place roughly twice a year with the grand PIT occuring in June for 12 nights.

In short, this involves spending the entire night out on a 17-foot skiff in 20-25 mph winds for a 12-hour tidal cycle accompanied by two other people, a hand-held radio and the distant cries of equally bored crews about the bay to keep you moderately sane.

The goal is to catch as many juvenile lemons sharks as possible. Previous captures are recorded and new ones are given a PIT tag - these are the same tags that domestic dogs and cats have implanted in them.

After the gruelling wind and rain, we were given a glorious sunrise.

Responsible Weather

Do you ever feel singularly responsible for the weather? Eying your bathing suit creates a freak May snowstorm? Grabbing your sun glasses before dashing out the door causes non-existent clouds to appear over the orb? Or donning some sunscreen to pro-actively prevent premature wrinkles causes it to rain as I damply discovered today.

I am very sun conscious. Not just in the obvious season of summer when the sun's rays assault the northern hemisphere with greater intensity but also in winter when the snow acts like a zillion focusing mirrors on your face.

I spend a minimum of 30 minutes outside every weekday walking to and from school. It is recommended that sunscreen be worn if you intend on staying out-of-doors greater than 20 minutes. This morning, the sun was shining, the snow was reflecting, I was slapping on some sunscreen.

I am convinced my preventative actions made it rain. There is no other explanation for the rain other than that I put on sunscreen and the sky was giggling at me for doing so.