Let me set the scene: We’re standing on a sandbar in the middle of the ocean—just marveling at that fact, alone. The water is as clear as Swarovski crystal. It’s as though were in a swimming pool. We look down at the white sand below our feet—so soft it feels like we’re spreading our toes in a warm cushion of sifted flour—and across the Tiffany blue waters through shades of turquoise and azure that blend up to cottony whisps of cirrus clouds sparingly brushed into the sky.
And then, we see them. They move like a fleet of surrealistic stealth bombers; shadows with wings. Their silken bodies gliding effortlessly through the water with the grace of a troop of dancers and the silence of ghosts. The rhythmic undulations of their wing tips rising and falling are hypnotic.
Despite their gangsta name, I am told Stingrays are actually very gentle and rarely pose any threat. And yet, as they descend upon me, my screams through my snorkel reveal just how little I believe that. This is really disconcerting. Actually, I am freaked out. But then I see a father holding his little girl as she laughs and kisses one of them. Oh, and there’s someone feeding them squid. I’d like to try that.
When fear factor becomes wow factor…
There is something so profound and nurturing about hand-feeding another creature. No gesture is more universally understood than the offering of food. My inhibitions immediately subside. And with that, I imagine myself in a Parisian fashion house, standing in a couturier's atelier, as an entourage of invisible designers take turns draping me in luxurious silk and velvet, allowing each one to cascade over my body and caress me before they fall away for the next presentation.
Stingrays feel like a thick band of muscle, but their fluid movement makes them almost weightless. The mouth and nostrils are on the underside, and it’s easy to mistake the nostrils as the eyes of a face that looks like a happy-emoji, but the eyes are actually on the top of the body, watching everything we do.
We swim amongst them, snorkeling past teams of shimmering Sergeant majors, before hopping back onto our boat with smiles an ocean-wide.
Grand Cayman is a picturesque paradise of beaches and water so clean and perfect it looks photoshopped. But it is so beautifully real. At Stingray City Sandbar, the experience is an exhilarating cocktail of pristine water, sand, sun and stingrays that intoxicates us with awe and wonder.
What is a Cayman massage? It’s when you stand in the warm, shallow ocean waters off Grand Cayman, while a stingray is lifted onto your shoulders to gently ripple its fins in waves across your back. Admission fee? Who cares. Value? Inestimable. This is a wild experience that is as playful and unusual as it is unforgettable.
For more information on how to enjoy this bucket list experience, go to: explorecayman.com