That fight was about as intense politically as things have ever been on the island, according to Bethel. “We might be a bit naive sometimes,” she says, “but we're peaceful people.”
Ironically, once it was actually feasible to navigate to Hope Town, tourism became the island’s main industry, and the lighthouse became its definitive landmark. Today it remains one of the last hand-cranked lighthouses in the world.
(Laris Karklis/The Washington Post)
After leaving the museum, we take our boat across the harbor to climb the 101 steps to the top of the lighthouse and take in the breathtaking 360-degree views. Everything is quiet. No cars or buses. No sirens. No jackhammers outside the window at 7 on a Saturday morning (yes, it’s a sore subject). A few boats float gently in the harbor, and the town’s colorful cottages form a sort of impressionistic bouquet. Alex has a smile on his face, as if he’s just now grasping why I’d been yapping on about Elbow Cay to him for months.
Aug. 1 is, for all intents and purposes, a holiday in the Abacos because it’s the first day of crawfish season (what they call crawfish in the Abacos are as big as lobsters and taste just as good). The entire week before, we see boats trolling around in the water outside our house. The fishermen dive down and set traps they will collect when the day comes.
My brother and Alex decide that they want to get in on the crawfish action. Aug. 1 also happens to be my father’s birthday, so I take it upon myself to see if I can organize a crawfishing trip with the whole gang.
I call Froggies Out Island Adventures in town and explain my request.
“We don’t have anything like that here,” says the man on the other end of the line. Click. Who knew that crawfishing is the one thing in the Abacos that nobody wants to talk to you about?
Crawfishing, we learn, is a big source of revenue for the area’s fishermen, and they’re not about to have tourists mucking that up.
Determined, we pick up a spear from the marina store (I decide it’s a late birthday present to my brother). To catch a crawfish, you have to spear it underwater without using an oxygen tank, one stipulation among the many crawfishing regulations. But the boys seem up for the challenge, and soon they’re out in the water with our hot pink floatie, trying not to poke each other’s eyes out while they search for crawfish, or at least some kind of fish they can put a spear through. Watching the spectacle, I begin to understand where the real fishermen are coming from on this one.
The boys wash up on shore empty-handed. And so we end up at the Sea Spray Resort & Marina, an inn on the southern end of the island, eating crawfish caught by someone else at a price about four times higher than we would have paid had the boys been successful. There’s really nothing quite like fresh grilled crawfish, though. The chef also turns out to be our shuttle driver back to Hope Town, so we have due time to praise his culinary skills.
It’s one of our last nights on the island, so we head to Harbour’s Edge, a waterfront bar and restaurant where Local Vibe, the town’s homegrown band, plays the same set we heard a week ago (only two spots provide most of the night life in town). Sitting outside on our white plastic chairs and sipping Kalik Bahamian beers, we watch as boats come in out of the darkness and sidle up to the dock to unload party-seekers. In this recession year, things are slower than in the past, but that only makes Hope Town seem friendlier, more peaceful. The band starts playing “Wish You Were Here.”
And I think, I am here — and so glad of it.
Where to go and what to know in Elbow Cay, Bahamas
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