There's a Bahamian Rake 'n' Scrape song that begins with the words 'I was born in Tea Bay, Cat Island'. This could have been an anthem for my late father, because, like the singer of this song, he was Cat Island born and bred, and darn proud of it; he was particularly proud of the wide patch of the road that is Tea Bay, or 'Bachelor's' as those in the know call it.
I grew up on Grand Bahama Island, but as a child, my siblings and I often spent summers visiting my maternal grandparents in The Bluff, Eleuthera. I only got to visit my father's parents in Cat Island once or twice - the last time when I was nine years old, as my Grandmother died the following year.
We always had a great time during these summers because life in the Out Islands was so completely different to what we were used to on Grand Bahama Island. Climbing the fruit trees in my grandparents' yard in The Bluff to pick native hog plums and scarlet plums, breadfruit and sapodilla (dilly) was something we'd never do at home (truthfully it was something I'd never do there either; rather, I was the lookout on the ground enjoying the spoils, but you get the idea). Not to mention riding the old nag that belonged to one of our numerous cousins in Tea Bay. So when my father passed away many years ago, I figured it was unlikely that I would ever have the opportunity to visit Cat Island, much less Tea Bay, again anytime soon.
But since my last visit to my grandmother many moons ago, I have been back to Cat Island. Several years ago, a friend and I visited Hawk's Nest Resort at the southern tip of the island and Fernandez Bay Village in The Bight. These are both fantastic little resorts that still stand out in my mind for very similar reasons. Both had a relaxed atmosphere and amiable service from everyone we encountered. I had the best conch chowder ever at Hawk's Nest. As I recall, it's a relatively small resort, and was not terribly busy at the time, so we sat down to dinner family style. After tasting the soup, I tried to coax the recipe out of the cook, but she only smiled, and gave me another bowl. The next day, we ambled down to the marina and whiled away some time talking fishing (of which I know little) or diving (...even less) with the locals and visitors puttering around.
At Fernandez Bay Village, they truly live the mantra of barefoot elegance. When you see the thatched roofs and native stone walls, you almost believe you're wandered into some hokey film set. Until you catch a glimpse of the phenomenal view out of the back door of the lounge area. You realise then, this could only be The Bahamas.
After a friendly check in, you settle in for a fairly relaxing time. It was only well into the second day that I realised that we had only seen the odd person at mealtimes or when we were helping ourselves at the honour bar. That's right, the honour bar! At FBV they trust you to own up to your boozing. Following this visit, any lingering guilt that I might have had for not going back to the old homestead as an adult was banished. I thought.
Then, several months ago, my older siblings and I paid a visit to my father's only surviving brother who currently lives in Nassau. My uncle David, is a great guy, and he likes nothing better than an audience, preferably young(ish), and definitely related to him so that he can - as they say in the islands - talk old stories. During this visit, Uncle David was in truly fine form, particularly when 2 or 3 of my cousins also stopped by to visit. He was having a blast regaling us with the tales of him and his brothers' mischief making 'back in the day.' But after a couple of hours, he started to get a bit melancholy because he hadn't been back to Cat Island for a while, except for the odd funeral. So, in an effort to cheer him up, we all agreed to make time during the next Bahamian bank holiday (and despite various work and family commitments, and in my case, travel challenges) to take him back to Cat Island. That was during the late summer, so the next feasible holiday was the Discovery Day weekend in mid-October. And surprise, surprise, the only people able to make it was me, my brother and my sister. This didn't bother my uncle at all though. He had roped in one of his cronies, Salathiel, to sort out a rental car and a place to stay for all of us, and he was raring to go.
Like many islands in The Bahamas, Cat Island is a fairly long island of around 48 miles, and only 4 miles at its widest. And like the archetypical bucolic island, it's peppered with several small towns or settlements, some larger than others, with a relatively small population, and the occasional hotel or resort tucked among the lush green landscape and rolling hills. I am chagrined to admit that when I visited Cat Island a few years ago, I don't believe we left the hotels other than to visit a restaurant one time. Granted it was only a short trip, but bear in mind I did not anticipate visiting again so soon. Shame on me! When you visit, don't make the same mistake. But I quickly realised, this was going to be a very different trip.
We stayed at a tiny little place in Arthur's Town called Pigeon Cay Beach Club. Our cottage was basic, but you couldn't beat the view out on the pristine white sand beach. Every morning the only body we ever saw was the owner's potcake dog chasing the surf and the birds. And each morning they started us off with a scrumptious 'true-true' Bahamian breakfast - stew conch and Johnny cake one day, boiled fish and grits another. Good times!
My Uncle David was determined first and foremost that we visit Tea Bay. I'm not exaggerating when I say Tea Bay is little more than a wide patch in the road, with a population in the low hundreds rather than the thousands. We visited the house were my father grew up, and met a few distant relatives for the first time.
We met neighbours and friends and strangers, old and young, all willing to sit and chat, and find out who 'your people are'. Needless to say everyone had a story to tell about at least one of our relatives!
Then the real tour began. Over the next 2 days, we drove from Arthur's Town in the north end of Cat Island to Port Howe in the south.
What I found amazing, besides the mindboggling stories about my family, was the amount of historic landmarks to be found on Cat Island. I think all Bahamians know that the point of highest elevation in the country is to be found here on Como Hill, the Hermitage at Mount Alvernia. Now, 206 feet may not sound like much to you, but for us, it's a big deal.
If nothing else, the climb up to the top confirmed just how unfit I truly am! But it was worth it in the end. While you're catching your breath and taking in the stunning vistas, it's a perfect place for quiet contemplation.
What's fascinating about the Hermitage is that it is a one man monastery, built by hand by the diminutive Father Jerome all on his own in the early 20th century! That's faith!
But I digress; as I said, many visitors to Cat Island will often be directed to the Hermitage, but the National Heritage Committee has also begun looking into restoring some of the cotton plantation ruins dotting the island. In fact, not too far from the Hermitage, we came upon the Armbrister Plantation, where the walls of the former great house are still standing.
From there, you can find your way to Armbrister Creek and the 'Boiling Hole'. The bubbling water is reputed to be caused by the sea monster living below the surface.....but all we saw was a small ray. According to Salathiel, it's also a good spot to see baby sharks as well.
We moseyed on from New Bight into Old Bight. My uncle and Salathiel explained to me the reasoning behind New Bight and Old Bight, but darned if I can remember! Anyway, we continued along, passing long white beaches, and numerous other relatives and friends, stopping for crab and dough (a Bahamian delicacy that's definitely an acquired taste) at New Bight Beach.
As we entered Port Howe, we had to stop to let a few goats cross as we headed towards the ruins of another former plantation, Deveaux Mansion.
As it started to rain shortly after we arrived in Port Howe (yes, it occasionally rains here), we stopped in to visit another relative (or family friend - at this point I'd lost track), and enjoy a glass of sweet bush tea.
Once the rain held up, Salathiel directed us to our final port of call, the Greenwood beach. I think most people are familiar with the Pink Sands beach on Harbour Island, but we were totally unprepared for the miles and miles of some of the finest pink sand beach you could ever imagine. On Cat Island. In Port Howe. And not a soul in sight. Unfortunately the only photo I took there was of my brother and sister, and frankly, they spoil the view. So I highly recommend that you check it out for yourself.
All in all, this was a great trip, and we immediately vowed to do it again. Unsurprisingly my uncle voted for another Cat Island visit, but I think we're headed for The Bluff, Eleuthera. I wonder if that dilly tree is still in my grandparents' garden.....?
