There are stories that begin with "once upon a time" and end with "happily ever after". And then there are stories that are sadly filled with the drama that only drugs, sex and violence can induce, that don't necessarily end with anything pleasant for anyone involved, but probably make for more profit in the selling of books and movies.

How Banyan stumbled onto this little piece of paradise, complete with a captivating history is largely due to the Cruising Guides, The Oracle, and oh, a silly little thing called, The Weather.

The Windy Weather, as you may remember, had us high-tailing it out of the very bouncy surge-filled Highbourne Cay and motor-sailing North into Allen's Cay for a lunch-time diversion with the Iguana's.

We didn't much like the idea of staying there, and so a two hour sail later, we turned left and entered the channel towards Norman's Cay. It was much less bouncy in here, and we happily dropped (and immediately set) the anchor.

The Cruising Guides strongly suggest Norman's Cay as a good and/or must-stop on one's visit down the chain of islands that make up the Exumas. Sure enough, as we arrived, we were instantly and immediately mesmerized and awed, in a jaw-dropping type of way, by the large expanse of quite shallow ever-changing green to emerald to turquoise to sapphire waters, and if you remember the T.V. commercial, this was THE island where the M&M's dropped down out of the sky on the unsuspecting, and quite stranded, but oh so happy, party-ers. Ok, maybe not, but sure looked like it. We saw no evidence of M&M's or party-ere!



We watched the sun set.



And relaxed. And were comfortable. And then we looked at each other in surprise as we heard, and then saw, the approaching descending plane coming in for a landing. On this island? In the middle of an abandoned "nowhere"? WTF ?

And so, dear reader, here's our story. A story that combines our visit here with the fascinating history of "yester-day". A story that combines such infamous characters as Manuel Noriega, George Jung, Carlos Lehder, Pablo Escobar, the Medelin Cartel with Dave and Alexandra, the crew of Banyan, anchored here in the idyllic setting of Norman's Cay.

In the 1970's and 80's some were quite happy to (turn a profit) and oblige the marijuana and cocaine that America was demanding.

Just imagine how quickly the speed boats and planes could making the short jump from the US shores to the many secluded Islands and Cays of the Bahamas that would offer the seclusion and privacy needed for these type of covert activities. The Abacos (an Island Chain in the Bahamas slightly North of the Exumas) and the island of Andros were also pit-stops in these runs, but the center of all the action, was right here at Norman's Cay.



Norman's Cay was always a popular anchorage spot for visiting boaters and yachts, due to its location and protection from the elements. Also, there was a small residential community, complete witha clubhouse, store, marina, and an airstrip...



Then, along came a man named Carlos Lehder, who in 1979, shelled out the modest sum of 900K for half of this 650 acre island!! This purchase netted him the Norman's Cay Yacht Club, the airstrip, grocery and liquor store and the 10 rental units. All he had to do was scare away the residents and the tourists and bring on the drugs.



Pretty soon, any boaters or visitors to the Cay were chased away by gun toting guards, probably standing on this weather beaten and decaying wharf.



As seems to be the case with greedy profit turning people, they didn't stay far enough under the radar, and the plane and boat traffic was steadily increasing and all of a sudden Norman's Cay blipped on the radar of Those Who Watch, and the rest is, as they say, history.

Those Who Watch, aka the DEA, planned a task force, named it Op Caribe, and the agents, disguised as boaters (cruisers?), set up surveillance from Shroud Cay (hmm, methinks we now need to go visit there?) and it all went down, just like in the movies, with the bad guys ending up in prison and the island slowly returning to some form of natural glory, the only things left are the abandoned and decaying buildings and the remnants of something hidden in the shrub.



Dave and I arrived on the beach, and anchored dinghy ashore, and walked the hot and sandy path arriving at the airstrip where those planes must've landed last night. And what do we hear off in the distance, the roar of engines as a small charter plane arrived, disembarking some passengers and loading up others.



We were once again, surprised in a jaw dropping type of moment, that there were not only planes, but signs of life, and people, with dogs, and activity happening here. A construction company was obviously here trying to build something up.

We remarked at how the dense vegetation made us feel as if we were in some secluded jungle where there may be drug-runners around - how little did we know!



We crossed the airstrip and reached the beach, left our set of footprints on the coarse sand that pedicured our feet, and rounded the point back to our beach-anchored dinghy. At one point we thought we might be stuck as the beach ended, the high and dangerously ragged edges of the honeycombed limestone made climbing up and over impossible, and so we backtracked, and Dave bravely disappeared into the shrub looking for the path we both knew was "just there". He came out a few short moments later,

Dave: "You'll never believe what was back there?"
Me: "What?"
Dave: "Abandoned motel units !"
Me: "No way!?"



Had we known then, what we know now, we would have looked for some of the bullet holes in the buildings that are reported to be there.

Had I known about this history I would've yelled "HANDS UP" as he was trying to exit the shrubbery in one of those "you had to be there" hilarious moments.

And then of course, there's the sunken Curtiss C-46 Commando plane,



resting in not even 4 feet of water, not far from where we are anchored, that played a part in this drug-running days of mayhem.



The current was a tad too strong for us to feel comfortable snorkelling around its protruding jagged edges, so we circled 'round a few times, checking out the ravages the salt water had done to the innards. We didn't see any skeletons. Or satchels of dope. Or bags of money. Dommage.



EPILOGUE:
Carlos Lehder was sentenced to life in prison. However, from the little research we did, we think he may have received a reduced sentence, for some testimony he may have supplied, indicting others.

A movie was made from these events, starring Johnny Depp and Penélope Cruz, entitled "BLOW".

Dave and Alexandra enjoyed the rest of the day walking some of the many beaches, snorkelling these gorgeous waters, and gunk-holing with dinghy.

And all the rest of the pictures are on our Sailing Banyan page, like us to view !!