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National Geographic : 2002 Feb
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CLEAR SURVIVORS A light suspendedfrom a boat off the Isle of Youth draws radiantvisitors. These box jellyfish (right), unlike deadlier varieties, rarelykill humans though their sting is agonizing.More benign eveningguests include a tiny post-larval surgeonfish (above), whose transparencyturns it invisibleto predators.The stunning biodiversity of a bygone era still thrives in Cuban waters. Says Doubilet, "It's like a memory preserved." (Continuedfrom page59) places, it took an ominous turn. It goes by different names in different locales: In the Cayman Islands it is "sea itch," in Bermuda "sand fleas," in Florida "sea lice." Here in Cuba it is named after the Carib Indians, the fiercest of all the aboriginal residents. Cubans call it simply "Caribe." I have no name for it, only a description: invisible, time-delayed, ambushing agony. It struck in shallow water or deep, on the bottom or at the surface, on the reef or in open water. It infiltrated any opening in mask or wet suit and, once within, would flood a human body with tiny, biting, burrowing, infesting, and infecting monsters. First we all wore hoods and booties and gloves. Then, as they proved ineffectual, we swabbed petroleum jelly on all junctures of rubber and flesh. Finally we wrapped our ankles and wrists with waterproof tape. And still they got us. I recall surfacing one day and turning back to take one of David's cameras from him, and as his head broke water, I saw that every millimeter of exposed skin was swollen with pustular sores. Was the villain a flea, a bug, a jellyfish, a lar val state of something? I asked the captain and crew; I sought enlightenment from the boat's radio. I found no answer. It was Caribe. Period. It came every year with the warming of the water, and every year the water seemed to be warming earlier. Usually it did not strike until August or September, but this year... yes, the water on the surface was already nearly 90F, and it was still only early June. But, we were told, that was how it was with Caribe. Perhaps prayer would help. (It didn't.) Some of us seemed to be more susceptible to Caribe than others. A few of the Cubans in our crew were immune, which suggested that whatever toxin was being delivered by what ever animal was an allergen. We didn't care; all we wanted was a cure. We tried urine, we tried meat tenderizer, we tried (on some obscure authority) Head & Shoulders shampoo. Usually, nothing helped; NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC, FEBRUARY 2002
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