Archive for November 2009
24
More visions of ‘paradise’ present
1 Comment | Posted by Rosalyn in Island Living, Travel Journal
One day's beach bounty
I dreamed about my old dog Tarpum last night and it made me sadly nostalgic for the wonderful dogs and cats we had in the Bahamas (as I write this mind you my Catlet (half kitten/half cat) Manuel is asleep on my lap and Basil is laying blissfully on his new zebra throw across the spare bed).
When we moved to Nassau, we took our Basset hound Poppy with us. You have no idea the rigmarole it takes to export an animal from the UK. Dept of Agriculture, endless forms, vets, injections, money etc. It was more trouble than the rest of the move put together particularly as the Bahamas has never signed up to the Pet Passport scheme (no doubt the paper work in somewhere on an official’s desk….).
Poppy did not like it in the hold of the BA flight to Nassau. Nor did the other two dogs flying onwards to the Caymen Islands. As we came into land in Nassau the plaintive howling that only a very unhappy hound can make could be heard throughout the plane. The flight crew had to assure several passengers that it was just the Basset hound setting the others off. Bless.
At Nassau, armed with a thick manila file of official forms, I sought out my dog. No one knew where the crate and its unhappy occupant would come in. Well, that little dilemma was soon sorted as it was shoved down the belt with the other luggage. Except this one was a lot more noisy. Her lead and collar that had been securely taped to the top of the crate had obviously been ‘borrowed permanantly’ by one of the helpful luggage handlers so she had to remain in a crate howling the place down. The officials wanted her and us out of there (what would all those tourists think?). A large female official asked me: “Puppy had it’s shots?”. “Yes” I replied and with a wave of her hand we were cleared. Not a glance at any of the forms. Welcome to the Bahamas.
Our fist house in Nassau was a small town house and it was terrible trying to keep Poppy quiet. Luckily we soon moved to a decrepit but big house right on the sea and it was not long before I received a call from the Humane society telling me that for the first time in their history they had an abandoned Basset hound. As I had the only other one on the Island it seemed only right to go and liberate Rusty and so we quickly acquired the two most disobedient but beautiful dogs on the Island.
Oh the adventures Poppy and Rusty had. Off along Cable beach. In dustbins, fed by every passing tourist and adored when I walked them on the beach. It took me hours to walk past the hotels as every US vacationer seemed to miss their dog and want to talk. I had some great conversations though. The Bahamians would run into the sea. Most are very afraid of dogs and didn’t get that possibly mine may lick them to death but not much more.
It was the rats that caused us to acquire the cats. Big rats and lots of them.
At first there were a few and we put down traps. However, waking up to a house with no a/c when a rat has been dead in a sprung trap for hours overnight in a hot kitchen is not my idea of fun. Nor is hearing them gnawing through the skirting board early morning and night. Nor is going to feed the dogs a Boneo and when I put my hand into the (big economy size) box having a rat run up my arm and jump off my shoulder. For that matter, nor is having one walk past when I was watching ‘The Greatest Race’. Nor the one my housekeeper Marcia trapped under a bucket in the kitchen that I took a broom to. No. Trust me it was not fun and when we were offered two kittens we jumped at the chance so Marshmellow and Orange joined our brood.
Sadly, I flew back from the UK one time and found that Poppy was missing. This rates as one of those ‘really not great’ days. My father had had a stroke (on my birthday) and I’d flown to his bedside to return a week later. Still wearing my travel clothes I went to find Poppy only to find her under a palm tree having been hit by a car. I took her to the Humane Society and an hour later returned with her to bury her in the garden. Sad sad day.
But very soon I would discover that Potcakes (Bahamaian mongrels) were the way forward and living in an out island, they just come your way whether you want it or not…….
……….to be continued (come back soon to read about finding the Potcakes, how the cats ended up in a walled enclosure called Yellow and Mellow and more…..)
Marshmellow in the sun....
Rusty and assorted Potcake friends on the beach
20
A glimpse at a hurricane moving in….
0 Comments | Posted by Rosalyn in Bahamas, Island Living
Not every day is sunnny in the Bahamas...Tippies before the hurricane
16
Island farm living pics to cheer up a cold British day…..
0 Comments | Posted by Rosalyn in Island Living, Memoir
Rusty the bassett and my morning coconut delivery
My watercress bed. The dogs loved to lay on it as it was cool and damp!
Well here is an old entry I had totally forgotten about. I was asked to plant a tree at a local school (clearly they couldn’t get anyone else so choose me!)
March 13 VIP tree planting at H O Nash school.
An indolent and yawning Sherry S gave me jumbled directions on the phone and said I’d be billed as a “corporately minded citizen”.
After driving around guided by her rough notes and the compass on my Ford Explorer I finally arrived at the school to find thousands of kids drifting around, all very casual and chaotic as so much of the Bahamas is (can’t actually detect any order or sense of anyone in control).
A radio broadcast was in full swing and Sherry was rushing around shouting to the kids to: “Go get the daddies, it’s daddies day we need to speak to daddies, now where that daddie I had lined up gone?”
I was met by Principle as I was putting on my make up in the car. Great. Then introduced randomly to several more suited and booted people with no sense of who anyone was or why they should be there. Introduced to Rev? (never did catch his name) – a man of about 5ft 4 ins, white shirt and clean attire but no dog collar or bible. Very remiss for Nassau. Leading me to severl huge metal pots on a makeshift stove top, he asked if I would like breakfast as they had boiled pigs feet and soused chicken with Johnny cake – I declined.
The tree (a sort of spindly bush) was right across a dirty expanse of gravel and dried mud in a corner by a fence. It was leaning badly in a hole which had old tin cans and debris in it. I was carrying a cardboard sign with its name written in felt tip (didn’t catch it but something botanical for good measure). Then without seeing who from, an enormous shovel was thrust into my hands and I was frogmarched across the playground by the radio broadcast team and an entourage of parents, preachers, teachers, councillors and kids. I reached the random hole, staggering with the shovel, in the heat in my increasingly damp best cotton trouser suit and shiny full make up. And still only 9am in the morning!
The broadcast began (we had all shaken hands so that was the end of the formalities), Rev shortman blessed the tree (live on air, what magic at drivetime), Sherry said some words (and froze and forgot all the names etc) as I huffed and puffed with the big shovel and threw in some dirt and debris around the twig. Then a parent – another small man of about 5.3 with silver hair, a moustache, white hat and striped golf shirt with badge proclaiming ‘Proud to be a parent at HO Nash’ grabbed the shovel, the Principle jumped in and snap. There was the shot for the newspaper photographers. I was told my words were wonderful and invited for lunch. I left.
Is this what the Queen has to do? As I drove away I saw two wizened old ladies walking with umbrellas in the sun and listened to a news story in which the police spokesman described the man at the centre of a double murder and suicide as someone: ‘who lack conflict resolution skills’. You don’t say.
Couldn’t wait to get back into my Island uniform of tatty denim shorts and halter neck top at home. This heat is stepping everything up a beat. The tree frogs are getting really noisy now and there are clouds of moths as big as bats. A raccoon has taken to throwing bananas from my neighbour’s tree – another hazard along with the falling coconuts (one of which fell down whilst I was unloading the Explorer and dented the open boot door – luckily not my head!).
What a Bahamian journey this is proving to be!
Back in my 'island unifom' of halter neck and shorts
14
A New York photographer discovers my art and island!
0 Comments | Posted by Rosalyn in Island Living
This is from Leigh Miller, photographer’s blog in 2006 (http://www.leighmillerphotography.com/blog/2006/04/19/a-few-pics/).
Sadly the links to the photos are not working and she takes beautiful photos. But posting it anyway as it is a good ‘external’ eyes view of Eleuthera where I lived AND her husband (clearly a man of fine taste and discernment) bought one of my paintings as her on honeymoon present!
April 19: from our Bahamas honeymoon. What a trip it turned out to be. It was fun, but I learned a lot!!! So here you go -
1.) They don’t show it in all the travel brochures, but it can rain, I mean pour, for 5 days straight in the Bahamas.
2.) If you are flying Bahamas Air, make sure you have “time to spare,” apparently everyone knew that but us 
3.) Bugs may eat you alive despite the amount of Mosquito Quietus you slather on your body.
4.) You really can live off peanut butter sandwiches and cheese and crackers if you have to.
5.) Eventhough you look for the cabbie without a beer at the airport, he may still stop and get one on the way to your destination!
Feel free to contact me if you are considering a trip and want more info, I have lots more to share.
We spent the first 4 days or so in Freeport hanging out with Kelly and Jon and shooting their wedding. After that the real adventure began. We were supposed to take a flight to Governor’s Harbour, but our flight was delayed by 4 hours or more (but they only tell you this in 45 minute increments, I guess so you will continue to be hopeful that in the next 45 minutes you will have access to a working bathroom, but I’m not really sure why) so we ended up in Rock Sound looking forward to a hour and 1/2 or so cab ride to our rental house. Thats where we met Buffalo, our cab driver. A really nice man and he looked the most promising because he was about the only cabbie without a drink in his hand at the airport, but alas he did stop for a beer on the way to our house
By the time we got to our house it was so dark we couldn’t see a thing and were locked out. Everything looked a bit more promising in the morning but within a few hours a major storm blew in and decided to hang around for the next 5 days. But we still had a great time!!! And we would go back again in a heartbeat. We were miles away from almost everyone (except the 4 adults and five kids who were renting the other house on the property!) had really crappy food (but good booze!) no TV (but a bunch of old VHS movies to choose from) but it was our honeymoon so who cares!!! It was awesome.
The round house we rented for the week. It was pretty rustic but we still loved it. I found it about a year ago on www.vrbo.com, a great resource for vacation rentals.
One day we took a day trip up to Harbour Island and on the way we crossed the Glass Window bridge, where the land narrows to little more than the width of a one lane road. On the one side is the Atlantic. Above you can see the storm clouds and waves crashing.
One the other side is the Caribbean, calm and clear. It really is surreal.
The painting my sweet husband bought me while we were in Harbour Island. I think I’m going to put it in my new studio. Its called It’s Getting Wet and the artist is Rosalyn Palmer.
All over Eleuthera and Harbour Island there were chickens and roosters running around. This little family was right outside the art gallery. I kind of felt bad cause a few kids were kind of terrorizing them.
But when we came out of the art gallery I felt worse. At first I thought “oh good someone put them behind the fence away from the bad kids” but then I looked harder and saw there were fenced in with a bunch of cats. Now the kids weren’t looking so bad after all !
The first painting I ever did! I still have this one........
13
The sounds of the island at sunrise…..Bahamas style
0 Comments | Posted by Rosalyn in Island Living, Travel Writing
Two choruses, at 6am and 6pm, punctuated my meandering days in Governor’s Harbour, Eleuthera, Bahamas.
I resented the 6am one at first, pulling a pillow over my head to shut out the crowing competition from the dozens of cockerels who strut along the dusty streets. In true island style, I mellowed quickly, choosing to hear the noise as a herald for another beautiful day. I also loved the way their noise was joined by soft singing of Vodun spirit songs from one or other of the Haitian itinerant workers. They wait patiently each morning by the harbour wall for a lift to whatever toil they have secured for that day.
The 6pm sound of rhythmic chopping was always welcome. The fishermen, Dennis and Arron and their crews, had landed their catch for the day and were busy wielding their sharp machetes to cut and fillet Grouper, Snapper, Hogfish, Shark or Tuna for the locals and the smattering of brave tourists.
I had long ago made friends with them when I had told them, “Don’t be chargin’ me dem tourist prices an’ tinkin’ me a bank!”. My custom was now greeted with smiles and laughter and an exchange of crumpled Bahamian dollars when the t-shirt and shorts brigade of passing boat owners had moved away. Then it would be back home ready for an ice cool Kalik beer, sipped whilst waiting for the green flash of the evening sun sinking into the evening sea on an island called ‘Freedom’
Governor's Harbour Eleuthera
13
Fishermen, Tarpum Bay, cleaning their catch (Hogfish, Grouper, Shark, Conch…)
0 Comments | Posted by Rosalyn in Island Living
Landing the Catch
Found this, in my five years of journals during my time in the Bahamas. Thanks to whoever penned it. Brilliant. Love the way the Bahamians can be self-effacing:
30 Ways:
Drift wood painting...........Bahamas
1. Ya older dan ya uncle or aunt.
2. Ya Mummy still holdin ya passport and ya 33 years old.
3. Ya know what ’spry’ is.
4. Ya go ta a funeral to see da person face, but ya don’t know dem.
5. Ya call parts of ya body, bubby, bungy, and bread.
6. Ya ask for da worm outta da conch.
7. Potcake is a dog or burnt rice.
8. Ya say current instead of electricity.
9. Ya start shopping for hurricane supplies the day before the hurricane.
10. ‘Vel mudda sick’ means something to ya.
11. Ya point wit ya lips.
12. Ya refer to people as boss or chief.
13. Ya refer to the lunch lady at school as Mum.
14. Ya can direct an American to the nearest Walmart, Brandsmart or Florida Mall.
15. Ya call Coca-Cola, coke soda, and everything else sweet soda.
16. Ya say ‘reverse back’
17. Ya know what ‘pants gunin’, and ‘gun casin’ mean.
18. Ya use da word ‘destroyful’.
19. Ya buy food from a place called ‘Dirty’s’ and go dancing in a place called ‘da Zoo’.
20. Ya MP have more case in court dan you.
21. Ya only buy da Thursday paper (to see who dead).
22. Ya start off gossiping wit ‘chile guess wha’.
23. Ya call all dishwashing liquid ‘Joy’ and all washing detergent ‘Tide’.
24. Ya put dettol in da water da bade wit.
25. Ya grammy is clean house in pulled up slip or night dress.
26. Ya best comeback in an argument is ‘You like man hey’.
27. You get outta ya bed at 1am ta watch junkanoo, but can’t make it t owork fer 9am.
28. Ya go to da beach , not to swim but just wet ya foot.
29. When ya talk ya pronounce v’s like w’s and w’s like v’s, eg .vomen, wulgar.
30. Ya go Miami every month but have never visited another Bahamian island.
9
It’s six months into Bahamas living
0 Comments | Posted by Rosalyn in Bahamas, Travel Journal
Sunset in the Bahamas
Nassau 2001……..
So here we are, six months in already. Finally felt at home last weekend when over the bank holiday weekend it rained non stop for five days. There must be a special Bank Holiday weather curse, which works throughout the world. Difference here is that it is still humid and in the mid 80s (which means in a clever, adjusted, sort of way it is really about 99 degs), and I am constantly getting caught out without a brolly or so much as a piece of paper to hold over my head so impersonate a drowned rat on an almost daily basis.
As I start to type this I am watching the golf course being bulldozed. It now resembles a sort of desert oasis. There is sand and soil everywhere, much of it in large dune-like piles and the one remaining lake in the centre of the course has had all the palm trees deposited around its edges to keep them alive before they are moved back into place. No prizes for guessing how it has affected the mosquitoes. The noisy frogs are also pretty unsettled. The constant sound of diggers has followed hot on the heels of the disruption caused by the building of our new conservatory and the major renovations on the entire block we live in. Not very conducive to writing a best seller I must say. So….we are moving at the end of June to a fab five-bedroom house that is literally on the sea. I kid you not. When you look out of the lounge and back bedroom windows all you see is turquoise sea, it is like being on a boat. When the sea is rough it splashes up onto the patio and hits the lounge windows and leaves behind a film of salt when it dries. Needless to say it will be horrendous in a hurricane which is why our rent agreement has a clause that the landlord has six hours in which to board up the entire house once a hurricane warning is issued and we get to move out to a hotel (they do special hurricane rates here and evidently it is quite a laugh being hauled up in a Key Largo sort of way for days in the howling wind and rain). No doubt a later letter….. (more…)
