The Cay Man and the Natural World Quotes

Like silent, hungry sharks that swim in the darkness of the sea, the German submarines arrived in the middle of the night. (1.1)

Standing on the sea wall at Willemstad, sometimes I'd see their fins in the water. I'd also seen them on the dock at the Ruyterkade market, their mouth open and those sharp teeth grinning. (5.26)

His eyes were becoming mine. "What's in the sky, Timothy?"

"In the sky?" He searchd it. "no clouds, young bahss, jus' blue like 'tawas yestiddy. But now an' den, I see a petrel. While ago, a booby…"

I laughed for the first time all day. It was a funny name for a bird. "A booby?"

Timothy was quite serious. "Dis booby I saw was a blue face, mebbe nestin' out o' Serranilla Bank, mebbe not. Dey be feedin' on d'flyin' feesh. I true watching' d'birds 'cause dey tell us we veree close to d'shore." (5.35-38)

Something slapped up against my leg, and I thought it was Timothy. I knew how to swim, but didn't know which way to go. So I was treading water. Then I heard Timothy's frightened roar, "Sharks," and he was thrashing about near me. (6.4)

"D'place I am thinking of is call Debil's Mout'. 'Tis a U-shaped ting, wit dese sharp coral banks on either side runnin' maybe forth, fifty mile…" (7.50)

I liked the rain because it was something I could hear and feel; not something I must see. It peppered in bursts against the frond roof, and I could hear the drips as it leaked through. The squall wind was in the tops of the palms and I could imagine how they looked in the night sky, thrashing against each other high over our little cay.

I wanted it to rain all night. (10.5-6)

I crawled out of the hut and began to call for Stew. Then I called for Timothy. There was no answer. I went down the hill and headed up the beach toward the reef. Voodoo was silly, I knew, but it was also frightening. I couldn't understand why Timothy thought Stew Cat was the jumbi. (11.22)

We often talked about the cay and what was on it. Timothy had not thought much about it. He took it for granted that the cay was always there, but I told him about geography, and how maybe a volcano could have caused the Devil's Mouth. He'd listen in fascination, almost speechless. (13.26)

Rain was now slashing into the hut, and the wind was reaching a steady howl. The crash of the surf was sounding closer; I wondered if it was already beginning to push up toward our hill. (15.9)

Wondering what had caused the birds to attack me, I felt around in the sand. Soon, my hand touched a warm shell. I couldn't blame the birds very much. I'd accidentally walked into their new nesting ground.

They were fighting for survival, after the storm, just as I was. (16.32-33)

Since then, I've spent many hours looking at charts of the Caribbean. I've found Roncador, Rosalind, Quito, Sueno, and Serranilla Banks; I've found Beacon Cay and North Cay, and the islands of Providencia and San Andres. I've also found the Devil's Mouth.

Someday, I'll charter a schooner out of Panama and explore the Devil's Mouth. I hope to find the lonely little island where Timothy is buried. (19.42-43)