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A Few Days On Cat Island
By Jack L. Key (07/22/08)
It’s been some time since I had a little vacation, and I needed a break from writing about politics for awhile, so I decided to slip away last week for a few days down to the Bahamas.
Bahamas?
Why would anyone want to go to the Bahamas in early July? And what about all those other things—foreign tourists lying neck and neck on filled up beaches in loin cloths—and some with no cloths at all? Or all that pink flamingo stuff, expensive hotel digs and a black population that doesn’t care much for Americans?
Well, here’s a tip; it’s actually cooler in the Bahamas than many places in the American South or East in summer, especially Florida. Those flat Islands and ocean breezes that blow west from Europe usually keep the temperature around 82 degrees and the humidity is low most of the time.
And who says Bahamians don’t like Americans?
While the European tourists, flamingo colors and expensive digs are a reality, you actually see most of that in Nassau and other high-profile areas. Remember that the Bahamas covers literally hundreds of islands, some still even uninhabited.
Its not hard to find comfortable, less expensive lodgings, fishing, untouched white sand beaches and friendly native island people in the Bahamas if you take the time to get informed, or know where to look.
A long time ago when I was in the US Navy my squadron was based on Bermuda for 3 years, and I was fortunate to have naval flight operations take me to many of the islands in the Caribbean Region. Then later during vacations I had opportunities to take several ocean cruises and visits to many of the larger island destinations such as Jamaica or Barbados.
I’ve enjoyed visiting the Caribbean area ever since, and have spent many happy times there. While Bermuda is not a Caribbean island, and lies north of the Bahamas, it shares much of the traditions, color, climate and pleasures of its neighbors south.
This time I took a few days in a place called Cat Island.
Cat Island is famous mostly for being something it isn’t. For 400 years it was generally believed this was the place Columbus landed in 1492, and dubbed it San Salvador. But then- Oops! historians decided Columbus had landed elsewhere.
You get the feeling Cat Island still hasn’t gotten its groove back. Being huge and under-populated doesn’t help with the identity crisis. Some 2 thousand people inhabit its 150 square miles—about a third of the number who work at Atlantis or some other such biggie tourists place on the better known Islands.
Donna Kesling met my Cat Island flight and picked me out of the crowd, probably because she knew everybody else coming off the plane. I had to catch an Island-hopper jet flight out of Miami via Nassau to get to Cat. Donna manages Fernandez Bay Village, a string of wooden cottages lined up along a narrow white sand beach, and where I had reservations for a few days.
Jimmy Buffet stays here, as do truck drivers and German playboys who lie naked on the beach with their girlfriends--also naked. Believe it or not, there’s an honor bar and everybody eats together—with clothing. You can go there alone as I did and not feel left out. There are evening get-togethers on several cottage porches, and those are never dull--full of interesting people with varied backgrounds and stories.
Cat Island is not a fancy island. The sign outside one of the better places to eat reads “Beer and Sweets.” The only real shopping is at Iva Thompson’s house where she and her sister make palm-leaf baskets. Iva, at 82, sits on her porch laughing and singing and stashing the money she makes in her bra.
Cat Island is the Bahamas untouched—not just by development but, in many ways by the modern world. I actually had someone say to me “who’s he?” when I asked him about the black guy running for the American presidency. And the natives have none of the arrogance or touchy tempers of the American blacks.
I doubt if they know—or care-- how to spell politics or know who Barack Obama really is (no one in the USA seems to know who he really is either).
http://atlasshrugs2000.typepad.com/atlas_shrugs/2008/07/atlas-exclusive.html
Obeah, a kind of Bahamian black magic, is practiced and feared here. Several women in Turbans and long skirts with cutting black eyes were pointed out to me as “Obeah Women.” Abandoned slave cottages decay beside the road, while “Mother-in-Law’s Tongue” and wild cotton plants grow in and around them. Like Loch Ness, the lakes are thought to hold hungry monsters in the dark depths of their blue holes.
The main road is called “The Road.”
Its considered the height of rudeness to drive past anyone without honking and waving. Sometimes I’d walk along it in the evening light admiring the beauty of the place, and everyone who passed me by honked and waved their silly arms off.
I spent my days beaching, fishing, snoozing, lounging and hanging out, sightseeing, meeting and liking new people, eating strange local foods, and loving the sudden showers that came up so fast they were done before the lightening flashes could catch up with them. I missed seeing Jimmy Buffet, but some locals told me he did the same things I did when he was here.
At Mount Alvernia, near Fernandez Bay, Donna and I climbed to the rocky peak—all 206 feet of it—and it is the highest point in all the Bahamas! Any higher and my heart wouldn’t have stood for it.
Here on the “Mount” in the 1940’s, an ascetic hermit named Father Jerome built himself a chapel and home called The Hermitage. (I asked our driver if Father Jerome had ever been to Nashville, TN and visited Andrew Jackson’s home, also named The Hermitage, and he answered also with another “who’s he?”)
Walking through the miniature stone buildings where Father Jerome lived and died, the driver, Donna and I admired the view:
Over the hill lies the Atlantic, below us calm Exuma Sound. From this perch, it’s easy to imagine the Islands as they were when Columbus landed, wherever he landed. Father Jerome found his ideal piece of the Bahamas, and like anyone—hermit, hotel builder, or Yankee visitor like me—he wanted to stay.
Jack L. Key, Ph.D.
http://authorsden.com/jackkey /
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Dr. Key is a semi- retired health care professional and was a co-founder of a medical and nuclear imaging firm. Since retirement he has authored several books and feature articles and is a syndicated writer for electronic media. His articles and political commentary appear on several noted news and commentary sites on the world-wide web, and also as features in several newspapers and popular magazines. Jack Key is a veteran of the US Navy (aviation).
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United Progressive Socialist States of America
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