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

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