The day started lazily enough, perched on a cliff overlooking a rainbow bay. From the shore the water reached out in gemstone tones: amber to emerald, jade to aquamarine, turquoise to lapis lazuli, sapphire to amethyst. All shining in mid-morning light. The progression of treasures made me wonder if just over the horizon amaranthine gave way to garnet and ruby: a hidden red ocean just further than my eyes could reach.
But before long, the sun was gone and the colors muted. In Hatchet Bay Caves, we became explorers. Bats hung in the mouth of the cave, twitching as we disturbed their sleep. The guano on the ground flagged the territory as theirs. Along the walls of the caves, visitors before us also marked their places as well: in guano, in spray paint, in mud, in tar, letting us know who “wuz here” in a desperate attempt at immortality.
We pushed further into the cave, where even bats and tourists did not go. Stalactites cried tears at their separation from their partners, as the stalagmites reached up to caress and comfort them. Ribbons of rock adorned the walls and mimicked the waves of the ocean above.
In the silent darkness, skulls and bones hid. Lucayan remains playfully ducked out of sight, snooping around corners for a better look, but not wanting to scare off the livers. Femurs shushed collar bones and trails of spines lined up to take a peek.
Above our explorations, brittle stars hugged tightly to the sea bed, feeling the rumblings from underneath. A large, maroon crab scuttled out of its own cave, afraid it had woken something beneath. Scallops jiggled on the sea grass and tulip shells paused in the sand, listening to the tremors below.
A lightless sunset of golden lines, tawny rays, tangerine grooves, copper streaks, and crimson stripes gave way to amber. In these caves, the rainbow was complete. As we made our way out, our eyes were shocked with all the colors at once: a hot white light in a cloud white sky.