History: Buying the Lot

IN THE BEGINNING: BUYING A PIECE OF THE ROCK

It's interesting for each of us to consider the strange twists and turns the paths our lives have taken as sometimes seemingly random and insignificant events later turned out to have had major influence. When I was in graduate school, I used an old minicomputer to do my research projects. I don't know how the Department of Computer Sciences ever acquired that antique, but I suspect it was because Goodwill Industries refused to accept it as a charitable donation. But the mere fact of its existence quickly put me into contact with the notorious gang of three who had built the operating system which sort of kept that beast running for whole minutes at a time. That eventually led to an offer from the manufacturer to move to their home office in Ft. Lauderdale, FL, and help straighten out some of the mess. I accepted that offer, and started work there in 1977.

When a few minutes of free time presented itself about six months after I began working in Florida, the first thing I did was enroll in a SCUBA diving class. My previous outdoor activities had been hunting, backpacking, and whitewater canoeing, but Florida offers no opportunities for those pursuits whatsoever. With diving, though, I found an entirely new love, and soon I was down on the reefs practically every weekend afternoon. Four years later I finally found my soulmate, and she too quickly developed a passion for the world under water. We moved around the country a bit, typical of people in our industry, but always we took off for warm and clear waters when we could squeeze out a few days of vacation time.

I think Wesley and I made our way to most of the better known Caribbean dive sites. Along the way, of course, we went to Grand Cayman. It didn't distinguish itself to me as a dive destination which was dramatically better than the others we had been visiting, and it certainly was much more expensive than average. So we continued journeying to a new destination each year, each time comparing notes with the other divers of places we had been. After we had covered the best known spots, we began looking at the places a little less known. That led us to take a week on Cayman Brac one year. It was nice--much better than Grand Cayman--but it still wasn't really dazzling. The whole week we were there, though, the divemasters kept talking about the BIG trip to Little Cayman coming up at the end of our stay. They made a major production out of it. We would be out all day, since it was over an hour's boat ride to cross the channel separating Cayman Brac and Little Cayman. Anticipation built all week as the descriptions of Little Cayman became progressively more enrapturing.

When our boat finally reached the north shore of Little Cayman, there wasn't much to be seen. It was a flat little island that for all the world looked like it was deserted. The beach was more rock than sand and the vegetation was far from lush. But then we dropped anchor, put on our gear, and plunged into the water. It was absolutely stupendous! The water was crystal clear, and we could look straight down over the wall for hundreds of feet. It was an absolutely sheer wall, and one can easily experience a sensation of vertigo after peering straight down into the inky blackness below. We began exploring, and soon discovered tunnels through the coral which opened out into sand-bottomed sanctuaries for rays and skates. We drifted back among the big coral heads and then found chimney-like passageways leading us vertically through the ancient formations while we swam straight upwards for over 70' until we arrived at the top. Back down again we went, waved along by giant sea fans as we glided past enormous sponges arcing gracefully upwards from the coral outcroppings. Giant turtles swam by, and under the coral ledges were lobsters larger than some dogs I know. It was just too much to behold! I was hooked forever on Little Cayman.

Unfortunately, that trip was only a day trip. We had to go back to Cayman Brac at dusk, but we carried the mental images with us as clearly as if they had been recorded on camera. It required no discussion at all to reach the decision that our next trip would be to Little Cayman. And so it was...and, I think, so has every dive trip we have made since that fateful visit to Cayman Brac. We discovered Ron Sefton's cottage on Little Cayman, and then came back time after time to delight in the coral treasures underwater and to unwind above water in the peace and tranquility of Little Cayman. I should mention that Sefton's Cottage wasn't just a place to sleep at night. It also had a tower, a tribander, a 40m beam, a bunch of wires in the air, and a SB-200. Thus no ham should be surprised to learn that the preferred times for our Little Cayman dive trips were late November and mid-February. My patient spouse always gave me 48 hours leave of absence to go participate in the craziness, and she even tolerated my babbling for the 30 minutes or so after the contests that I was able to stay awake and talk incoherently about what had just transpired.

After a few such visits, the idea occurred to me of actually buying a piece of that island and sitting on it "just as an investment". The island was still so undeveloped that beachfront property was actually within the reach of people of our means. It took some persuasion on my part, but Wesley eventually accepted the argument that it was probably a good investment and that we really should diversify our holdings. Heh-heh. By spring of 1994 we found ourselves landowners on Little Cayman. But just as an investment, of course.

back to "The House on Little Cayman"