The view from Rose's deck

When we set forth for the Bahamas we had contemplated visiting several regions. The Exumas, The Abacos, and Eleuthera topped the list.  Having spent almost a month in the Exumas we wanted to push on. And just north of Shroud Cay is the Wax Cay Cut that would let us out into Exuma Sound and Eleuthera beyond.

Once clear of the cut we pointed Thistle's bow toward Cape Eleuthera, the southwestern tip of the main island 30 miles away. There we discovered an oddly un-Bahamian marina. Let me explain: we've gotten very used to, and quite enjoy, the very relaxed demeanor of almost all the native Bahamians. The fewer people the more the attitude prevails. Rules don't really seem to exist. Nobody is minding your business. No one cares if you wear a life jacket, overload your dinghy, or break a thousand different rules that in developed countries would have some official descending on you with admonishments and fines. Here, petty officialdom seems hardly to exist. At Wardewick Wells we hung out with members of the Bahamas Defense Forces, a contingent of whom are stationed on the island, to attend a birthday party. That's been pretty much our only encounter with any form of authority since clearing in. And our main impression of the defense guys is that they'd probably help pull you off a sandbar if you ran up on one and that they are wicked good with a barbecue. They don't come on the VHF every 15 minutes with some tidbit about how the light on such and such a bouy isn't working or that there's a log drifting somewhere or other the way the US Coast Guard does. In the Bahamas you can pretty well expect that the light isn't working, and consider it lucky if the bouy is even there at all. And you know what? Everyone seems to get along just fine with minimal nannyism. So it was quite jarring to receive a 4-page rules & regulations packet along with marketing materials for the very Florida-looking townhouses that line the marina basin. Our thought for the owners: let the Bahamas be the Bahamas - allow it to be a little quirky. If folks preferred Florida they'd probably have stayed there.

So we spent one night at the semi-empty marina and "resort" to buy fuel, fill water, do laundry, take showers, and then we headed back to the Bahamas 13 miles away at Rock Sound Harbour. There we landed at the dodgy dock where the locals were processing the days catch on the part of the that hadn't collapsed in the last hurricane and hiked the two miles to the Atlantic side to Rose's Northside Restaurant. Rose wasn't there when we arrived but her dogs were and they gave us a warm welcome and then went back to sleep under the defunct car in the front yard. Eventually Rose returned and said to us "You look tired, come on in and I'll cook for you". And cook she did! We sat on her deck overlooking the wild beach, the turquoise reefs, and the Atlantic beyond while savory aromas drifted out of the kitchen. The native Bahamian grouper was the best we've had. And Rose sat with us while we ate and told us about her life story. How she worked in Freeport, learned to cook for the cruise ship crowds, married the minister of education, had six kids, sent them through college, and how they are now all succeeding on multiple continents. If you get the chance go -- have Rose cook for you. She'll give you a ride back to the dock too. Tell her Thistle sent you.