Across the Gulf and Over the Mountains
By Catalin Olortegui
Waves crash on the Gulf side of Guanaja, in turquoise, teal, lemon and peachy white.The triggerfish are tailing, neoprene steps crunch on coral in hot pursuit. We squint our eyes under the tropic sun, holding back the urge to let the lapping waters envelope every aching joint—a salty embrace that washes the world beyond the surface away. Underwater, the flats sing- currents rush over deep channels between islands, a slow hum. Turtle grass sways in friendly motions, conchs graze steadily amongst the banks and dips. We hop back in the panga, ocean spray brushing our skin as we cruise to another shallow paradise. Kids laugh, seagulls caw, frigates watch over us, and the outboard thumps in time to a heartbeat. All is right in the Caribbean.
I am grateful Guanaja found me. Of the friendships, stories, meals and love we shared in the lodge over these swimming legends. This fishery definitely tested my skill level- coming from someone that's somewhat (mostly) self- taught and has a plethora of bad habits in casting. But I worked it out, and I’m very grateful for it.
I learned first that Guanaja is not the lower keys. Unlearning funky casts, those required for those who do not possess a boat to access backcountry areas needed to get bones and tarpon- was quite difficult. There are no sketchy bridges, gravel roads with a thousand no-see-ums, isolated mangrove channels in the back of million- dollar homes. It is so much more. More isolated, untamed, just old wise mountains connecting earth to tree to sky. In Guanaja there are pockets of people in between rainforest and ocean, and the opposite is said for Key West. Gone are the days of Florida strait’s robustly healthy flats 50 years ago, and cruise ships- not mountains- blocking my view of the sunset from the other side.
I remembered my heritage, too. We enjoyed the same fruit as children. We sang the same nursery rhymes. I remembered there was still time to learn Spanish, to open my heart up to new people and places and experiences. Guanaja and Peru (where my family is from) are not so far away, after all. When I wasn’t working on college courses in the shack I reverted back to what I guess could be marked as a lost part of childhood. It was the first week in ages I felt like I could just exist, picking up creatures, planting mangroves, and laying in hammocks under big coconut trees. When was the last time you caught and cooked a meal with anyone at all, let alone a group of friends? Or ran around with kids in the mangroves as they scooped up blue land crabs with you? We devoured gallons of those guys, boiled and dipped, that night.
I have much to learn. I was met with such open arms from everyone on this special rock, in tucked away towns and homes filled with love for everyone around them. I am pulled to return, to catch more glimpses of legends under the glinting tides of those flats, to run around the jungle and catch critters, to handline with Henry and Gaylee and maybe finally catch a shark. To be under the watchful eye of wise guides, and sleep in hammocks in northeast bight, and count meteors after dark on the docks. I want to kiss and release more pompa jack under the stars. And most of all, not get so sick I can’t go fishing on the last day of the week. Till next time, when the 539 nautical miles between me and the island are 0 again.
I am grateful Guanaja found me. Of the friendships, stories, meals and love we shared in the lodge over these swimming legends. This fishery definitely tested my skill level- coming from someone that's somewhat (mostly) self- taught and has a plethora of bad habits in casting. But I worked it out, and I’m very grateful for it.
I learned first that Guanaja is not the lower keys. Unlearning funky casts, those required for those who do not possess a boat to access backcountry areas needed to get bones and tarpon- was quite difficult. There are no sketchy bridges, gravel roads with a thousand no-see-ums, isolated mangrove channels in the back of million- dollar homes. It is so much more. More isolated, untamed, just old wise mountains connecting earth to tree to sky. In Guanaja there are pockets of people in between rainforest and ocean, and the opposite is said for Key West. Gone are the days of Florida strait’s robustly healthy flats 50 years ago, and cruise ships- not mountains- blocking my view of the sunset from the other side.
I remembered my heritage, too. We enjoyed the same fruit as children. We sang the same nursery rhymes. I remembered there was still time to learn Spanish, to open my heart up to new people and places and experiences. Guanaja and Peru (where my family is from) are not so far away, after all. When I wasn’t working on college courses in the shack I reverted back to what I guess could be marked as a lost part of childhood. It was the first week in ages I felt like I could just exist, picking up creatures, planting mangroves, and laying in hammocks under big coconut trees. When was the last time you caught and cooked a meal with anyone at all, let alone a group of friends? Or ran around with kids in the mangroves as they scooped up blue land crabs with you? We devoured gallons of those guys, boiled and dipped, that night.
I have much to learn. I was met with such open arms from everyone on this special rock, in tucked away towns and homes filled with love for everyone around them. I am pulled to return, to catch more glimpses of legends under the glinting tides of those flats, to run around the jungle and catch critters, to handline with Henry and Gaylee and maybe finally catch a shark. To be under the watchful eye of wise guides, and sleep in hammocks in northeast bight, and count meteors after dark on the docks. I want to kiss and release more pompa jack under the stars. And most of all, not get so sick I can’t go fishing on the last day of the week. Till next time, when the 539 nautical miles between me and the island are 0 again.
Catalin Olortegui, 20, Key West, FL, USA!
I went on the July 2nd-9th Guanaja girls week trip in 2022 (and also the girls week in 2021 on the Roaring Fork of the Gunnison)! I am currently in college doing 2 STEM majors in marine fields, and work on the water as my day job.
I went on the July 2nd-9th Guanaja girls week trip in 2022 (and also the girls week in 2021 on the Roaring Fork of the Gunnison)! I am currently in college doing 2 STEM majors in marine fields, and work on the water as my day job.