Finally there she is! Her eyes covered by fine green eyelashes, she looks peacefully into the distance. She’s languidly reposing, untouched by mundanes woes like anchor dragging, constant wind on the nose and lunch time. Does she know something that I don’t?
Juan and I decided to visit the underwater sculpture “The Musician” or “the Piano” as it’s called in our chart. It was created by Jason deCaires Taylor, a diver and artist with several installations around the globe that bring attention to reef damage. The pieces are made with pH-neutral materials that welcome growth of marine life. They eventually become reefs themselves. This particular beauty was commissioned by the magician David Copperfield, and it was located almost in front of his humble abode in Bahamas: Musha Cay. If you ever win the lottery you might want to consider renting the whole island for a mere $37,000 a night. I think the price includes drinks.
We anchored in front of Copperfield’s villa for the night. We didn’t see any magical event except what nature provides. The next morning, with coordinates of the destination at hand, we loaded our trusty Gecko and departed in search of the mythical mermaid and her piano. This time we chose electrical propulsion. I won’t lie, travelling Gecko-way is rarely dry and always slow. The beauty is that it’s quiet and does not burn gas. It’s also an endless source of pride for Juan (who only recently came to accept that if we use Gecko as a means of transportation it will get scratched). So there we were, bobbing around in agitated waters, while I was trying to read a map in my cell phone through its waterproof case. Every time I deciphered some snippet of information I transferred it to Juan with a good holler over the wind noise. We continued our hunt for art in that way for a while. I yelled, Juan obeyed. Communication at its best. Finally, finally! we saw a black blob underwater. “That must be it”, we asserted with lack of conviction. Now what do we do with the dinghy? We looked at each other. There wasn’t any beach around. The closest point of possible “attachment” was a sharp rocky shore that we didn’t want to be anywhere close to. Our only option was to use the anchor. This particular anchor is not a trusty specimen. It has failed us in the past. It likes to be among rocks or entangled in tree roots. It doesn’t like water, let alone deep water. It’s a weird, temperamental piece of equipment. It’s also very cheap—probably its only good thing and at the same time the reason of our problems. (Note to self: get a decent dinghy anchor).
We moved to a safe distance of our target, just in case it actually was the mermaid. The last thing we wanted was to hook the girl by the lip (it wasn’t a fishing expedition after all). We threw the wicked piece of equipment overboard; after several tries it seemed to be doing its thing. However, we are two distrustful souls so we took turns to dive in. We didn’t want to have any unplanned dinghy departure ruining the day. After gearing up I jumped in with Juan acting as human ballast to keep the boat steady. What appeared as an amorphous rock from the dinghy materialized into a clear and beautiful shape as soon as I went underwater. A magical moment indeed. I gave two thumbs up to Juan and slowly made my way toward the sculpture.
It was eerie. From afar the mermaid seemed isolated and untouched, even a bit lonely. However as I got closer I could see that she was covered by a fine hair-like algae and baby coral. Different fish darted around hiding in mysterious crevices. Somebody had put Mardi Gras beads around her neck giving it a strange kitsch touch. The piano, a full-size metallic replica of a Steinway Concert Grand, has a shiny finish that’s starting to disappear under a lovely growth of coral and algae. The whole installation has a plethora of life. The mermaid girl was not so alone after all.
Eventually the cold and my obsession with shark encounters motivated me to swim back to the dinghy and give Juan an opportunity to be shark bait. I mean, check the pretty gal with the fish tail.