Tag Archives: Island Life

The Islander: Volume 7

30 Apr
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View of the Atlantic Ocean at Pete’s Pub.  

Day 55.  Aside from the initial slowness I mentioned in my first blog, things are progressing relatively well.  I find myself slowly acclimatizing to life on my own and have come to a few different realizations.  I’ve realized that in my quest to not starve to death and to not eat cereal multiple times a day, I should teach myself to cook.  My cooking skills are evolving at an exponential rate.

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Oh…while on the topic of food, I’ve also realized that the folks at Fyre Fest, Nochella (whichever you prefer), have varying opinions of “gourmet”.  And you thought we weren’t going to broach that topic.  One of my friends, who shall remain nameless…

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I never said he’d remain faceless….

tried to coax a group of us to go.  For multiple reasons, we declined the request.  But I digress.

I’ve also realized how important quality time is since I’ve moved.  Once you move to another place, you no longer have that luxury of just doing things with friends and family at will, and so you appreciate the time that you do spend together or talk.  One of the persons I speak to with regularity is my dad.

People say that I look exactly like my dad and that we share the same mannerisms etc.  It’s so bad that I walk into places sometimes and people tell me who my father is before I even get a chance to introduce myself.  My dad is responsible for my love of everything aviation.  He would take me to the airport as a young kid and we’d sit right under the approach path for hours watching airplanes land and takeoff.  My mom hated this as she always thought the airplanes would land on top of us but for me, this was exhilarating.  We also would go out on Sundays and fly model airplanes…a practice he still engages in to this day.

My dad is also a character.  He’s funny…but what makes him funny is the fact that he’s dead serious with whatever he’s saying.  For example, about 20 years ago, we were all in the house with the exception being my mother whom was in the backyard gardening when we all heard a loud shriek.  My mother ran inside and stated to my father that there was a snake on the patio outside.  In not so many words and a few expletives that I will spare you from reading on a Sunday, he got the hint that it was his duty to rid the world of this reptile.

This snake was no regular snake however.  The snake must have seen my dad coming with the cutlass and escaped into a crack in the patio.  Now I like to think that I’m fairly smart and reasonable.  Qualities I must get from my mother because my father had the ingenious idea of pouring gas into the crack and lighting a match to place in the crack to kill the snake.

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 I couldn’t make this up if I tried.  In some kind of National Geographic documentary where mother lions protect their cubs from prey, one minute I was there as a kid thinking to myself that this was a terrible idea, the next I was in my mother’s arms watching the house get smaller as we ran away from the house.  We waited for a boom that never came.  Clearly the original fyre festival would have been right on Sapphire Ridge.

There are tons of honorable mentions too.  Last year I called my father to wish him Happy Birthday.  He responded “It’s today?”  Just this morning, he told me he’d call me back because church was going in at 10:00AM.  Never mind the fact that it was 10:11AM.  There were somber moments as well.  I remember when our house flooded and we had water up to my parent’s waist in the house.  That night, I climbed on my dad’s back to get out of the house because the water level was too high for me to stand.  This was obviously after I secured my most prized possession of course:  my Sega Genesis.  Months later, my dad would give me bad advice that would lead to that very Sega blowing up.  I plugged it into an outlet that had a higher voltage than the other outlets which led to my Sega shorting out…I remember the pop and faint burning smell to this day.

This is what I’m up against.  While we have had our share of disagreements over the years, there have been more good times than bad ones.  Christmas was always a fun time in the house.  My dad is a big proponent of science (which is why the whole gasoline and fire thing still perplexes me to this day) and he’d always get toys that made me think.  One time he bought me a robot that I had to assemble.  To this day it still works.  He’s always been a supportive father, always reminding me to push myself further and to make the best of the hand I’ve been dealt.  What else could you really ask for?  Well…aside from a fire extinguisher.

Life’s a Beach.  Enjoy the wave.

 

The Islander: Volume 6.5

25 Apr

Call me Drake…without the singing, the pale complexion, and questionable tattoos because I just went Back to Back.  Two blogs in two days.

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Wait but seriously though.  Sooooo…we aren’t going to talk about the fact that he has   a flower and a bee tattooed on his arm?  I mean if y’all good I’m good…I just thought we should have addressed it…we’re getting off topic aren’t we?

About two weeks ago was the Easter Holiday.  With one of my best friends, God Son, and adopted family in tow, we headed up to Crown Haven which is the northern most point on the island.

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There.  I included a map because I know some of you guys still don’t know where Abaco is much less a tiny settlement on the Northern tip of the island.  Away we went.  The drive itself is quite long…for being on an island anyways.  With stops along the way, we set off to explore the unknown.

First stop was Treasure Cay.  For those of you that follow me on social media, you would have seen me post this beach a few times.  The backdrop is simply breathtaking.  Neon blue waters, powdery white sand and cloudless skies are a reoccurring theme here.  It’s no wonder that this area is ripe with second home owners.

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Yeah, I know.  My words are inadequate.  After a few minutes of relaxing and people watching, we continued our trek northward.  The drive itself isn’t the most inspiring as you continually pass millions of pine forest on either side of the road.  What is amazing though are the settlements that spring up almost out of nowhere.

These settlements have the bare necessities and it is this that most out-islands (or family islands commonly referred to by Bahamians) are known for.  For the most part, the settlements shared similar amenities.  Each one had a small convenience store selling sundry items, a few local mom and pop gas stations, a church, and that was about it outside of homes.  The homes themselves were very modest and quaint…but you could tell that each settlement had it’s own unique character. For them, life is relatively simple.  It wasn’t uncommon to see most people outside talking with each other, and most were kind and waved.  The settlements are relatively small so everyone knows when you’re the new person in town so to speak.

As we drifted further North, here is where the real fun began.  Imagine this.  Myself as the only male (outside of my two year old Godson) and three females in my car.  We are finally approaching the northern most tip of the island when in the middle of the road there are about five men and one person whom I believe to be a lady.  We still aren’t sure about her (him) but that’s not important to this story.  One of the guys has an empty bottle of rum in his hand and waves it menacingly towards another gentleman that has a rock (that looks like it’s straight from Bedrock that Fred Flintstone lent to him) in his hand to defend himself while another gentleman (who is armed with nothing) is trying to stop the impending doom that is about to occur.  It quickly becomes abundantly clear that all of these men probably are just a tad bit inebriated.  The lady? is screaming at the top of his/her lungs that they shouldn’t fight while the other two gentlemen across the road suddenly begin jawing at one another.  One picks the other up and looks like he’s about to practice the latest wrestling move he saw on WWF when he decides to let him go.  I was torn between turning around (which would have sucked because we just drove for two years) and driving through (because I didn’t want Jhene (my car) anyone to get injured).  Alas, we strolled through and made it all the way north.

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This far north, there is actually a ferry service that runs between Abaco and Grand Bahama.  The town itself appears to be a fishing community which allows those living in the area to be able to provide for their families.  As much as I say that Marsh Harbour is slow, these areas are even slower but in a weird way, it was enjoyable to see this side of the island.  People were friendly and engaging.  Kids were outside playing and socializing and not on iPads.  Weird.

The next day I got a chance to head south and go to Pete’s Pub to watch the sunset.  For the uninitiated, Pete’s Pub is a restaurant and bar overlooking a bay that offers iconic views.   While off the beaten path, the views that we were afforded were amazing.  Learning from my earlier mistake of trying to set the scene with my words, I’ll let the photos do the talking.

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With the weekend coming to a close, it was nice to spend a nice afternoon with whom I consider to be extended family and watch the sunset.  Abaco certainly has a charm to it and whether you like it or not, it grows on you.

Life’s a beach.  Enjoy the waves.

P.S.  There may be a video to follow in the coming days. 🙂