Our new home in Nassau is the Nassau Harbor Club Marina. It was once part of a luxurious Marriott resort but has fallen on hard times with the development of Paradise Island and the Atlantis resort complex just across the harbor from Nassau proper. The hotel is now closed except for a few rooms still maintained for those awaiting departures on live-aboard dive boats. The restaurant is boarded up, but the pool is still open, clean but with only a few rickety pool chaises. The once lush landscaping is now scrubby and worn. We meet Peter, the long time dockmaster. In his office are autographed and framed pictures of yachts that once docked here, including the Forbes yacht. He is an interesting, proper gentleman, hailing from Greece but marrying into a Bahamian family and is the best dressed and most dignified dockmaster we have ever encountered. He is reluctant to tell the story behind his Bahamian nickname, St. Peter, but we have read the details in one of our cruising guides. For years local fisherman would capture and gruesomely slay turtles with the populations of many species in the Bahamas on the brink of extinction. It was sufficiently disturbing that Peter put out the word that he was willing to buy any live turtle caught at the prices the fisherman could fetch at market for the meat and shells. And, turtles don’t go cheap. Over the years he bought somewhere around 150 turtles and nursed them back to health in pens within the confines of the marina. He estimates his expenditures were over $30,000, but he did get help from some of the wealthy visitors to the marina, along with sponsorship from a prep school in Rhode Island that would send their students down to Nassau to help with the project. The turtles were eventually transported to the Exuma Land and Sea Park, a place that forbids fishing or hunting. Nowadays, the pens are empty and falling apart, but St. Peter can take some satisfaction that the government of the Bahamas has outlawed all capture of turtles for commercial purposes.
The state of the marina reflects the surrounding neighborhood. The shopping center across the street contains a Starbucks and a few high end stores featuring imported luxury items along with stores meeting more basic needs. I get my hair cut in a fairly glitzy salon where locals are stylishly dressed and freely spending on spa treatments. There is a drug store, computer store, book store, and a grocery store. All the stores either have guards at the entrances or locked doors requiring a clerk to buzz you in. The grocery store is supposedly the best stocked one in the Bahamas. It is big, but it is also barren. Rows of freezer and refrigerator cases stand empty. Where there was once an in-store bakery, the shelves display unfilled Keebler pie shells. You might be able to get Tomato soup but don’t plan on finding Chicken Noodle. Most of the meat on display is frozen and the ground beef has a funny color to it. We are no longer in the land of the plenty, but one wonders where do the Bahamians who frequent the luxury stores buy their groceries? The surrounding streets are crowded, dirty, and potholed. The concrete and stucco buildings are crumbling at their edges. Garbage lines the roadsides while every so often you come across a gated and well maintained villa fronting such roads. Cross the bridge over to Paradise Island and you will find spotlessly clean streets, beautiful landscaping, luxury hotels and only tourists; the Bahamians are absent here. It is certainly a study in contrasts.
We spend a good portion of our time trying to sort out the internet problem. It takes several trips by foot to the local Cyberworld store, a couple of miles away, along with intersession from a helpful clerk (Moses, who we now consider very close to being God) at the nearby computer store before it is up and running. We also try to extend our immigration status to six months but hit a wall of bureaucracy; we will have to visit a port of entry when our three month status is about to expire. With the availability of dockside water we clean the boat of its accumulation of salt. The marina has a nice laundromat, so it’s time to also clean clothes. And, of course, we purchase last minute supplies before heading to the Out Islands.
With chores completed, it is time to play tourist. The cruise ships dock at the far end of the harbor so we hoof it down there to check the scene out, about a five mile walk. Near the docks is the local straw market, a place with tiny walkways, multitudes of stalls, and locals hawking trinkets to the cruise ship passengers. If you look closely you find that many of the souvenirs are manufactured in places like China and India. Around the corner are upscale stores selling duty free imported goods of all kinds – watches, jewelry, leather goods, and perfume. Again, it is a study in contrasts. Just around the corner and just in time for lunch we discover a genuine Burger King, and Burt gets the treat he has been craving for months – a Whooper and fries. We haven’t eaten fast food since April. We keep walking towards some beaches frequented by the cruise ship passengers and locals.
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| Junkanoo Beach Nassau |
Even further, we come to the Ardastra Zoo and Gardens, our final destination. While the variety and quantity of animals is less than impressive, the grounds are quite interesting. It is a tropical garden originally opened in the 1930’s and still reasonably maintained.
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| Jaguars at the zoo |
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| Garden settings at the zoo |
What we really came to see, though, is the flock of marching flamingos. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen marching flamingos. Walking into the flamingo area, you are surrounded by the tame birds. They stroll along the path with you, they snooze in grassy patches, standing on one leg with head tucked under a wing, they look you in the eye, nose to beak, and they squawk and fuss among themselves with little regard to the gathering people.
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| A group of flamingos |
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| This flamingo must practice yoga |
At the appointed time, their trainer gathers them together and herds them into a small arena. Here the birds march on command and change directions whenever “about face” is shouted. It is truly an amazing sight that was once featured in National Geographic.
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| The drill sargent corrals the troops |
We enjoy an active social life with the other marina residents. Most evenings are spent sharing drinks and munchies at sunset. We compare stories of our passages south and plans for future cruising. It is an international crowd with Americans in the minority and a surprising percentage of Canadians. One evening we host a group consisting of one Canadian and her husband from the Netherlands, a Scotsman, and his wife from England. Towards the end of our stay we go with another couple to a very nice restaurant on the waterfront for what to us is a fancy dinner. It is a fitting end to our stay in Nassau and a last opportunity for a little luxury before we head to the undeveloped areas of the Exuma Out Islands.
Nassau seems a bit of a conundrum. It is mostly rundown, dirty, and crowded, but there are places that are pristine. The waterfront has spectacular beaches, but also trashy industrial areas accommodating the freighters. The community has a reputation for crime, but we mostly encounter friendly, smiling people and never feel threatened. Nassau would never be considered a cruising destination, but our stop here provided safe harbor in challenging weather and an opportunity to make final preparations for our voyage into the Exumas.
