A Pistol for your Thoughts

I have put off writing this blog post for a little while now. When I write, it means closing a chapter on a place in a point in time. I don’t think I was ready to close the chapter on Cat Island but here goes nothin’.

After a long day of sailing, there is nothing better than waking up to a calm anchorage, Old Bight, and hopping on the SUP for a peaceful morning paddle followed by an afternoon hike through the town with our friends.

There was a bar/hardware store that we checked out; unfortunately, the hardware store was non-existent but they did have some interesting artwork displayed on the wall of the Pass Me Not bar.

We then made our way back to the beach to the Rollezz Beach Resort; a cruiser-friendly spot with an eclectic variety of beach chairs.

Susan made reservations for all of us to have dinner at the resort. When I use the term resort, the tendency is to think big, but in this case, picture a brightly painted house that has been converted into a restaurant with other small guest houses scattered throughout the beach front property. On the northern end of the restaurant is a small garden where they grow their own arugula, tomatoes, and some herbs.

The sea state was a bit unsettled as small chops and waves are crashing onto the shore, making the dinghy experience pretty exciting. Earlier in the day, Susan and Todd’s dinghy caught a wave while Susan was still in the dinghy, at it looked like she surfed that dinghy right to shore. I wish I would have captured a video. We all helped one another get our dinghies safely into the water and to our boats; and in doing so got soaked. So off we went to change clothes and get cleaned up for dinner. During our return to shore, my skirt got soaked. No one was on the beach yet, so I decided to let my skirt dry in a tree while we waited for everyone to come to shore.

Blake entertained himself by seeing if he could jump over the dinghy. It turns out that he can.

Dinner was a four-course meal that started off with a homemade split pea soup with a coconut milk base. I still dream about that soup. The next course was a salad with ingredients straight from the garden and vinaigrette that I wish I could have bottled up and taken home. The main course was a lightly breaded snapper with broccoli, carrots, and cauliflower, and hands down the best tasting peas and rice in the Bahamas. For dessert, we had a homemade pineapple coconut pie.

The next morning, we went to shore to access some WiFi. I was arranging to have a paddleboard sent to the hotel, Tingum Village Resort, for Blake’s birthday, which became a nightmare in itself; a story for another time. Rollezz Resort graciously allowed us to hang out on the porch and access the WiFi. While there, we got to chat with Jules, a local real estate agent, who was there to volunteer his time to help paint a building, and Beverly, the chef/manager at the restaurant. Beverly shared that she came here from Jamaica to work; her son is married to Carl’s daughter. She also shared that her last name is the same as Jule’s but they were not related; it was a slave name. My initial thought was, “What does that feel like to carry a name like that?” I wanted to ask so many questions in that moment but my mind was racing so much that I didn’t know how or what to ask. This ignited so much curiosity in me that I began researching the history of the Bahamas the following weeks. Again, for another time, but I can’t help but wonder how a tourism dependent country, like the Bahamas, feeds into the supremacist culture. Is it simply history repeating itself in another form?

Jules strongly encouraged us to attend the potluck and bonfire on the beach that evening. I asked if he would be going and he paused, smirked and shook his head no. I asked why and he said, “Locals don’t go. It’s for the boaters and hotel guests.” This feels like a missed opportunity for connection and again, I wonder why…We met Carl, the owner, and he asked if we would be attending the potluck and bonfire. He said he has been hosting it for the past several years because boaters and many of his guests have been so generous, not only with repeat business, but with their time. We learned many boaters had volunteered and donated things to Carl and his family over the years and this was his way to say thank you.

I mean how could we not go!? I decided to make ceviche with the remainder of the mahi, which meant I needed more limes. We made our way to shore and began what we anticipated to be a two mile walk to the grocery store under a scorching sun. Within about ten minutes a minivan pulled up next to us and offered us a ride if we don’t mind making a couple of stops along the way. We hopped in and met Malcolm and Sally, a Scottish couple that spends three months a year at the Rollezz Resort, for the past six years. The main reason, they were heading into town was to gest a birthday gift for Carl, the owner of the Rollezz Resort; he was turning 71 years old. They took us to Alvernia Market, which they said was the most affordable and had the best produce. Though it was small, it was well stocked and the produce selection was plentiful.

The evening was upon us and it was time to head to shore for the potluck. I convinced Blake to bring his guitar because who doesn’t love a song around a bonfire? He hesitantly agreed and with ceviche in tow, we were on our way. The boating community really showed up for this. Everyone brought a dish and the quality of food was surprisingly spectacular. Right after sunset, someone a cruiser brought out a homemade birthday cake for Carl followed by words of appreciation. It was a sweet moment. The bonfire and music commenced and Blake did not disappoint!

The next morning, on March 3rd, we were up early to meet up with Manitou and Freya. The girls were going paddling and the guys were going snorkeling and spearfishing. We paddled up Armbristers Creek through a winding maze of mangroves filled with dozens of turtles. Contrary to popular belief turtles are very fast swimmers and I could not snap a pic quick enough. This time with the girls was so needed and not because there was a need for husband bashing or anything like that. It was time to have some deeper conversations beyond boats and destinations. I think the guys had just as much fun, even though they didn’t spear any lobster.

After lunch, we made a short hop north to New Bight anchorage. We heard there was ice cream (including rainbow sherbet for me) in the Cat Island Cultural Village Fish Fry so that happened. The last time we had ice cream was in December in St. Petersburg, FL. Three months without ice cream is a long time. We walked off the ice cream to Olive’s Bakery and bought Blake some freshly baked banana bread and wheat bread. I’m talking still warm to the touch fresh. Blake has been spoiled with freshly baked bread since we’ve been in the Bahamas. I can see it being something we continue to buy when we get back to the U.S.

In the morning, we decided to get an early start to get our chores done, which meant tossing our garbage in a dumpster by the government dock then filling up our jerry cans with water and refilling our propane tank. I wouldn’t say this was easy as it required walking through a construction site or a longer route down the road and to the beach. When the jerry cans are full of water, they weigh about 45 lbs each. Blake carried both down while I stayed to fill up the propane. The good thing is that by 8:30am chores were done and we had the day to explore!

We decided to hike to The Hermitage, up Como Hill, to Mt. Alvernia, the highest elevation in the Bahamas, 206 ft above sea level. The Hermitage was built by hand in 1939, by Father Jerome, as a place to spend his final years in contemplation; a place dedicated to St. Francis of Assisi. We read somewhere that he carried the stones up by hand. His living quarters were simple and only lent space to what was needed. The artistry and attention detail reflect his deep devotion to God. Naturally, I wonder if I will know that kind of devotion in this life?

It's hard to think about devotion without thinking, I’m too old or it’s too late. Father Jerome had a colorful life before he converted to Catholicism and studied to become a priest. According to www.bahamasgeotourism.com he was “a mule-driver in Canada, a fox-terrier breeder, a cow-puncher, and a sailor.” So, it makes me think that it’s not the quantity but the depth of devotion that matters. It reminds me of a song called Depth Over Distance by Ben Howard. It’s worth a listen.

As you follow the trail behind The Hermitage, you come to what appears to be a smokehouse. As you follow the trail further, there is a less noticeable path into a wooded area. We couldn’t help ourselves and followed the path which led to a cave. We poked our head it and looked around.

After the fact, we learned that it is where Father Jerome lived in this cave while building The Hermitage and later “was buried, per his request, barefoot and without a casket.” As we descended from Mount Alvernia we explored the gardens that still grow peas, tomatoes, corn, and some kind of fruit.

In the evening, we met back up with Freya and Manitou for some local Rake and Scrape (music) and food. First stop was Duke’s Conch Shack for fresh conch salad. Duke was kind enough to give us a tutorial on how to clean a conch and as an added bonus, Blake got to eat a conch pistol. A conch pistol is a colorless, slimy, wormlike part of the conch’s digestive system. Blake described it as a salty worm as he washed it down with an ice-cold Kalik. Duke said, it’s the Bahamian version of Viagra. Pete was offered a conch pistol but his was a little brown, so he passed. By the way Blake was carrying himself afterwards, it seemed to have taken effect. He was standing around Duke’s like he owned the place.

As the evening went on, we listened to Pompey and his band liven the streets with Rake-n-Scrape, a Bahamian goombay musical tradition.

We had talked to Pompey earlier in the day and he told us he was 46 years old when a young lady quickly chimed in, “Quit lying! You are the oldest man on this island!” The name Pompey has a history in the Bahamas. In the 1800s, Pompey was an enslaves black man of Lord John Rolle, a powerful British Loyalist. At the young age of 32, Pompey led a group of over 40 enslaved people in rebellion against Rolle, because he was trying to relocate them to a different island which would have resulted in splitting families apart. The rebellion was successful and eight years later emancipation of slavery followed. To this day, you will meet many Bahamians with the last name Rolle, like Carl, the owner of Rollezz Resort.

Going back to the present, Rake-n-Scrape only lasted about 45 minutes and during that time we all became distracted when some kids rode over on their bicycles and started doing flips in the street. There is something about the energy of a child that brings light and joy to an already joyous moment.

The next day we balanced out the fun and joy with laundry. New Bight has a brand-new laundromat with WiFi which was an absolute treat. I have been sending my niece and nephews postcards but there have been very few in the Bahamas. I found an app called MyPostcard that converts your pictures into postcards and mails them for you. I spent most of the time in the laundromat sending postcards to each of my little loves, Aniya, JJ, Olivia, Noah, and Hannah, in Texas and Oklahoma.

Blake spent the next couple of days constructing a blog on anchoring and at some point, we hiked into town for groceries and in search of hardware store. Along the way we saw a mix of old dilapidate houses and the cutest, most brightly painted homes.

We had worked up quite an appetite and stopped at Hidden Treasure before another mile and half of walking. You may be wondering why we didn’t ride our bikes…the streets were narrow extremely narrow and cars fly down those roads. With my lack of experience, I couldn’t take that risk. Hidden Treasure was just that, a hidden treasure. Denise was the owner and she shared that her original restaurant was in the Fish Fry Cultural Village with the others but a fire burnt it down.

I unintentionally offended her when I said, “This is one of the best meals we have had in the Bahamas!” Sounds like a compliment, right? What Denise heard was, “One of the best,” instead of “The best.” She even went back and told her chef. You can’t fault a person for wanting to the be the best so I took that as a lesson. Her food really is spectacular and hands down the best in New Bight.

On March 8th, we all pulled anchor and sailed north to Bennett’s Harbour and dropped the hook near the government dock. Typically, we wouldn’t anchor so close to the government dock, where deliveries are made, but we read deliveries only happen once in a blue moon. Well, it must have been a blue moon because a large barge strolled on up to the dock with deliveries and both us and Freya were asked to move. So, we pulled up the hook and dropped it in a new spot.

I can’t remember if it was that day or the next that we did some snorkeling with Todd and Susan followed by a trip to Yardie’s, a colorful and eclectic side porch style bar. It was Blake’s kind of place; local and divey. Good gracious we miss the Freya crew!

The water was extremely calm and that evening instead of using the motor, we paddled our dinghy to shore for Pete’s birthday dinner at Da Island Kitchen. The host, chef, and server was Chef Andrew, a trained pastry chef. The appetizer was conch fritters; the main course was grilled turkey wings, mashed potatoes, and sautéed vegetables; and the star of the show, for dessert, guava duff. Guava duff is the national dessert of the Bahamas. The sweet dough (or “duff”) is steamed and rolled with guava and covered with a rum sauce. We learned later from a bartender in Hope Town, Abaco, that “back in the day” Bahamian women used to steam the dough in a pillow case. Don’t ask me how…Anyway, happy birthday to Pete!

The next morning was a tough one and probably the reason I procrastinated with writing this blog. We had to say good bye. Manitou and Freya were heading south to Conception Island and we were heading north to Eleuthera.

This would be the last time we would cross paths on this journey through the Bahamas. It was by far the saddest we have felt in months. While it may sound dramatic, there is little comfort along this journey, but there can be comfort found in the presence of good friends. It was back to being just us in this great unknown. We miss you Freya and Manitou!