– Brooks Atkinson

 

This is how New Plymouth looks today.  The waterfront homes are less grand, but it is still a thriving little town, with the most friendly people imaginable.  The island is now a mix of both black and white Bahamians. Curiously, they still have a strong allegiance to Great Britain.

 

Over the last two centuries, the residents of New Plymouth have earned their living in various ways, some of which have provided continuous employment, while other occupations were short lived.  Scale fishing, conch harvesting and lobster catching have always been reliable. They have raised pineapples, gathered sponges, grown sisal trees to use the fibers for rope, been “wreckers” (salvaging cargo from ships which ran aground on the reefs surrounding Green Turtle Cay), and even raised sugar cane for a while – having built their own mill.   Some locals were involved in rum running during prohibition and others participated in the drug trade.   They are a resilient people, who are now adapting to the next new venture, tourism.

 

Green Turtle is a bit off the path, but it is slowly becoming known by people who want to visit an authentic Bahamian settlement, and at the same time have a comfortable place to stay: there are three simple resorts on the cay.  The beaches are some of the nicest in the Abacos.

 

 

 

 

 

Three new cottages apparently built for second-home owners.  Not sure they would survive a storm surge of more than a few feet.

 

 

 

 

 

Visitors to New Plymouth ask why there are stairs on the outside of this building – stairs which lead to nowhere.  The answer is that the local court house was the second story of this building, and the jail was on the ground floor.  The hurricane of 1932 blew off the second story court house, leaving only “ye olde jail”.   One of the local people commented that he didn’t think anyone had ever been confined in that jail, either before or after the hurricane.  Why?  “Because we have no crime here”.  

 

 

 

A storm moves into Black Sound.  Shortly after this picture was taken, all hell broke loose.  Fortunately, we were securely tied to a dock at the Leeward Yacht Club.

 

 

 

 

Hilda Curry, a straw weaver and basket maker, and a lifelong resident of New Plymouth.

 

 

 

On one of the neighboring islands, there are some wild Abaco horses.  Hilda created this child’s

corral, with straw horses inside.  Notice the inscription on the outside of the corral.  

 

 

 

Walking the streets of New Plymouth.

 

 

 

During this year’s cruise to the Bahamas, we told our cruising friends about the “famous” Bahamian desert called Guava Duff.  (“Duff” is an English word for pudding, but Guava Duff is not really a pudding as understood by Americans.)  In years past, we had been able to find Guava Duff fairly often, but for almost three months, after asking on multiple islands, we could not find anyone who was still making it.  Our friends started to think that it really did not, and never did, exist.

 

One day we were exploring Green Turtle by golf cart, and we came upon this young woman, Alicia Smith, who was walking.  We stopped to talk with her, and learned that she was the head chef at the Lizard Cafe, which was located at the Leeward Yacht Club marina where we had docked our boats.  She told us about her extensive culinary training at the University of the Bahamas in Freeport, and her prior position at a major resort on Grand Bahama.  We casually mentioned that we had been unable to find Guave Duff for the entire time we had been in the Bahamas.  She immediately responded: “Oh….I can make you some.  When do you want it?  Do you want slices or the whole loaf?”   She agreed to make a loaf that night, and we would pick it up in the morning.

 

As we continued on our trip, we noticed several flyers which she had put up on telephone poles, describing her business of making baked goods, and in particular Guava Duff.  So, by accident, we had met theGuava Duff person on the island.  A good coincidence.

 

 

 

 

 

We picked it up the next day.  The Guava Duff is the long white loaf, cut in half, with the guava swirled inside.  You can see how light and spongy the dough is, from all of the little holes.  The reason that it is difficult to find is that it is difficult to make.  It is not baked.  It is usually placed into a mesh bag or a pillow case and boiled.  Alicia uses a similar steaming method.  That’s why the outside does not have a crust.  The key to a good Guava Duff is the sweet butter rum sauce, which is heated up and poured hot over a warm slice of the duff.  Unimaginably good.

 

Alicia also gave us a small pina colada bread pudding, which is between the two halves of duff. It was equally good.  The loaf of bread at the left is coconut, made by another local woman.

 

The pink pig at the upper right was a birthday gift to me from someone from whom I didn’t deserve a birthday gift.  Birthday piggy just needs to be the center of attention everywhere, and it appears that Guava Duff is one of his favorites.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A beautiful assortment of varied coral, including two sea fans (middle and right).  Based on our picture guides, the bigger light green one to the rear of the purple sea fan is not a coral but a plant: Cactus Tree Alga. We think that the white coral, with the holes, to the right of the purple sea fan, may be box fire coral. The smaller one immediately behind the fan (gray in color)  is likely slit-pore sea rods.  We are still learning to identify reef corals and plants; we have several good picture guides, but many of the corals and plants on the reefs look similar.

 

 

 

 

 

Green Turtle Cay is named after…green turtles.  They were once eaten, but are now protected.

At Coco Beach in the remote north end of Green Turtle, we brought some small frozen fish to feed the turtles.  Before long, several of them appeared.

 

 

 

 

My wife Barbara took all of these excellent photos of our “turtle encounter” from a nearby dock.  She managed to capture a surprising series of events as they happened around us.

 

This photo, especially its background (which is the sea bottom) looks like an impressionistic painting.

 

 

 

The turtle resumed the defensive position, turning 90 degrees on his side.  This frustrated the shark to no end, and he finally gave up and swam away. 

 

All of us in the water left with all of our toes.

 

 

 

 

We work hard at taking good photos.  Every year in the Bahamas, we take thousands of pictures.  Only about a hundred of them are good enough for our Letters.  (Some of the photos we include are merely record pictures, to set the scene.)   

 

Each year only about half a dozen photos are, in our opinion, truly exceptional.  This picture is one of them, and it is fitting to include it as the final photo in this Letter from the Bahamas. The photo is of a freestanding piece of Elkhorn coral, near the surface of No-Name reef.  See how its colors and outline are reflected on the under-side of the surface of the water.  

 

By the time you read this we will have crossed the Florida Straits, pushed our boat “Meander” across the Gulf Stream, and re-entered the U.S.  It has been a great trip through the Bahamas this year, and we hope you have enjoyed traveling with us. 

 

 

Best regards to everyone.

 

Greg and Barbara Allard

M/V Meander