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Bahamas

Long Island Revisited

15 February 2010

in Bahamas

Deans Blue Hole (Bahamas Ministry of Tourism)

2-6 February 2010— Four days of bicycling and touring Long Island, Bahamas with Arrington McCardy and John Birtzen, while Barbara Langworth drove the SAG wagon (sports & gear)–a clapped out, righthand-drive Mitsubishi wagon that didn’t let us down. We stayed at Arrington’s cousin Marvin’s “Bistro Garden” at Deadman’s Cay, a little B&B with nice accommodations if occasionally spotty on hot water. Delicious omelettes or Bahamian grits and whatever (including sardines, if you insist) for breakfast and our choice for dinner. We opted for grouper, seafood pasta, one night out (our anniversary; mutton and steak at Harbour View in Clarence Town) and more of Marvin’s wife’s seafood pasta Saturday night, made with garlic and oil and piles of crawfish and conch. Transport, accommodations and food cost the two of us under $800.

The Tropic  of Cancer runs through the northern end of the island, so for most of the time we were in the Torrid Zone–and torrid it was. Blazing heat all four days, and we were beat at the end of each day, sleeping ten hours a night. Saturday wound up with a cold front that brought a torrential downpour (unfortunately it did not extend as far north as Eleuthera). Next morning we flew LI-Nassau-Governor’s Harbour via Bahamasair, and landed in cool breezes which are with us yet. (The bikes returned a week later via the Island Link to Hatchet Bay, Eleuthera, and home. We don’t need to see a bicycle for a few days…)

Tuesday 2 February: Up at 4am to catch the sturdy wood-hulled Current Pride at Current, Eleuthera, four hours to Nassau, complete with the usual pea-shucking, hymn singing and non-stop chatter from Bahamian wordsmiths. In Nassau, a four-hour layover, then the overnight Island Link to Simms, Long Island, sixteen hours. Both trips on smooth seas. Note: the first shed on the right on the dock at Potter’s Cay dispenses large portions of $9 conch salad, made with live conch while you wait. Bought baked chicken for onboard dinner. “The movie” was Meryl Streep and Alec Baldwin in “It’s Complicated” (recommended). Slept the rest of the voyage in cozy bunks.

Wednesday 3 February (45.5 miles): Arrived Simms, L.I. at 9am with barely enough water under the shallow-draft “Island Link” to nudge into landing. Marvin arrived with the SAG wagon for Barbara and we biked north twelve miles to the Adderley Plantation, whose walls, hearth and window openings mostly still stand. Local historians have done a great job cleaving away the bush and labeling all the surrounding plants with common and Latin names and listing their properties as bush medicine. Adderley began in 1790 and is still in the hands of descendants, who hope to keep the remains as they are for history. Back down to Deadman’s Cay in the afternoon against a stiff headwind blowing unnaturally from the south. Only one potcake encounter, and we outran the mutt.

Thursday 4 February (43 miles): Long Island is much flatter than Eleuthera, a lot less traffic, only 4000 population, less spectacular scenery but far more handsome architecture, especially churches. Not as much scenic vistas or shoreline visible from the road, but very friendly locals. We rode south to Dunmores, looking for another plantation lost in the bush, then back to Clarence Town, the “capital.” After lunch, we swam in Dean’s Blue Hole, a giant funnel, the deepest blue hole in the world, with sapphire blue water in the middle. It goes down 663 feet in the middle of a shallow cove no more than wading depth.

Hamiltons Cave

Friday 5 February (15 miles): A morning trip to the Blue Hole, of which we couldn’t get enough. Found many tellin shells unscathed by the surf, including rare sunrise tellins. Back to Deadman’s, then rode south to Hamiltons, about seven miles away, to meet Leonard Cartwright for a guided tour of Hamiltons cave, which is on his property. This is three times the size of our own Hatchet Bay cave and virtually without graffiti or other human destruction, unlike ours—incidentally, this is true of Long Island generally. People take more pride in their houses, however humble. The cave must have been a walk-in condo for the Arawak Indians, with huge galleries and “ceiling holes” open to the sky, giving plenty of light and ways for fire smoke to exit. There’s a freshwater spring, spectacular stalactites, and some stalagmites have formed benches and tables. See photos on the Long Island website.

Sat 6 Feb (20 miles): Arrington visited a friend up north while John, Barbara and I stowed bikes in the car and rode to the end of the island. A stiff southwestern wind was blowing across the beach, and it was too early for Susannah Martinborough, an island character, to open the “Goat Pond Bar.” We  drove back to aptly-named Hard Bargain; while Barbara found another cave, we unloaded the bikes and powered north, thinking we’d have the wind behind us. What we got was the wind off our left flank, gradually working around until it was in our face again. No nasty potcakes this time. What kept us going was the prospect of another helping of conch salad, which we’d had the day before, from roadside vendor, Sean Cartwright, who uses all the right stuff: live conch, green peppers, onions, tomatoes, goat peppers for zest, sour and sweet orange and lime juice, $10 for a big foam bowl. Just superb.  We logged 125 miles slowing down from last year’s pace, making more time to take in the sights. Still we didn’t do all we wanted to do, like exploring the causeway and outer banks road on the eastern side.

Click here for last year’s visit.


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Jack Kemp, a photo inscribed to my late parents, Harriet and Michael Langworth, 1993.

Jack Kemp, a 1993 photo inscribed to Harriet and Michael Langworth

“DASH OF GREYHOUND, SLIPPING THONGS…”

On Eleuthera, where we live from December to April, there was vast fascination, as one might expect, in the recent U.S. Presidential election. One of the virtues of this Bahamas island far out in the Atlantic is that racism, in the sense we all know it in the so-called First World, doesn’t really exist. On our easy-going tropical strand, amid the smiles of welcoming locals and old friends who have known each other for years, it just doesn’t seem to matter whether the face in front of you is black or white.

So it was perfectly natural for the wife of our local grocer to ask me in all innocence and without rancor: “Is it possible for a non-white to be elected President?”…

…And for me to reply without even a thought: “Sure. In fact it was possible twelve years ago, if the ticket had been Colin Powell and Jack Kemp.”

I am firmly convinced it was possible—not only because Colin Powell, Honorary Member of The Churchill Centre, is a man vast numbers of people like or admire; but because Jack Kemp, Trustee of The Churchill Centre, was equally so: a politician who, like Churchill, never wrote off any voter, who believed that his libertarian philosophy could appeal to all, that it was the height of patronization to single out minority groups and declare that they must have more government because they cannot get by with less of it.

Jack was a man who lived life at maximum velocity, whether as championship quarterback for the Buffalo Bills, as a U.S. congressman who promoted enterprise zones in inner cities, as an empowerment-advocating Housing Secretary, or as a candidate for Vice President who described himself as a “bleeding-heart conservative.” But you can read all about those achievements by Googling his name. I would rather write about what he meant to Churchillians.

The Tenth International Churchill Conference in 1993, chaired by Merry Alberigi and held in Washington, was one of our most stellar occasions. We welcomed Lady Thatcher, Winston Churchill, Ambassador Kirkpatrick, Celia Sandys and General Powell. We held a service at the Washington Navy Yard Chapel which duplicated that of Roosevelt and Churchill at Argentia in August 1941, with veterans of USS Augusta and HMS Prince of Wales to read the Lessons. We hosted Ambassador Alan Keyes, who not only sang five national anthems including God Defend New Zealand, but all six verses of The Battle Hymn of the Republic—without music in freezing cold on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. As Churchill wrote of Argentia: “Every verse seemed to stir the heart. It was a great hour to live.”

Jack Kemp was our keynote speaker at that conference. In the summer 2009 issue of Finest Hour we republish what he said: words of wisdom and inspiration, delivered with the vigor for which he was known, and not without humor. When his introducer made so bold as to compare him to a former congressman named Abraham Lincoln, Jack rose in haste to disclaim even the slightest similarity. After her appreciation following his speech Jeane Kirkpatrick and Jack embraced: old colleagues, veterans of political wars, together again, even though (as Jeane told me at dinner), they had differed fervently over the 1982 Falklands War, with Jack firmly on the side of Margaret Thatcher and Great Britain.

Jack and his gracious wife Joanne were with us again at the commissioning of USS Winston S. Churchill in Norfolk in 2001, and we dined together in the wardroom (Finest Hour 111). His last run for office was now six years past, but he was still passionate about what The New York Times called his “most important idea….the theory that deep cuts in taxes would lead to such an economic boom that much if not all of the revenue lost from lower taxes would be offset by the additional tax receipts that resulted from greater earnings.”

“What was it that Churchill said about Supply-Side economics?” Jack asked between bites.

“He didn’t say anything about Supply-Side economics,” I replied. “He was a Liberal!”

“Yes he did!,” Jack retorted. “You know, about keeping money in people’s pockets.”

Later I looked it up and sent it to him, because of course he was right, and Churchill’s words ring as true now as when Churchill spoke them, in the House of Commons on 16 August 1945, although they have temporarily fallen out of favor:

What noble opportunities have the new Government inherited! Let them be worthy of their fortune, which also is the fortune of us all. To release and liberate the vital springs of British energy and inventiveness, to let the honest earnings of the nation fructify in the pockets of the people….

In January Jack Kemp announced that he had been diagnosed with cancer. He said he was undergoing tests but gave no other detail. Scarcely four months later he was gone. Immediately I thought of the words Churchill offered, as only he could, quoting from Adam Lindsay Gordon’s grand poem “The Last Leap,” upon the death of his dearest friend, Lord Birkenhead:

The summons which reached him, and for which he was equally prepared, was of a different order. It came as he would have wished it, swift and sudden on the wings of speed. He had reached the last leap in his gallant course through life. All is over! Fleet career, Dash of greyhound slipping thongs, Flight of falcon, bound of deer, Mad hoof-thunder in our rear, Cold air rushing up our lungs, Din of many tongues.

Oddly too, remembering the rapidfire way Jack lived and spoke and thought, I thought of another figure in a galaxy far away, the immortal Tazio Nuvolari, the greatest racing driver who ever lived. In Mantua, Italy, where passing drivers in the Mille Miglia would raise a hand in mute salute as they raced through “Nivola’s” home town, his tombstone bears this epitaph: Correrai ancor piu veloce per le vie del cielo. You will travel faster still upon the highways of heaven.

Godspeed, Jack.

mille-miglia-arrow

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Long Island by Bicycle, January 2009

April 29, 2009

Most people travel to and from my home island of Eleuthera is via Nassau or Florida. Neighbouring islands on the Bahamas “outer banks”—Cat Island and Long Island—seem to fall under the old adage: “You can’t get there from here.” Actually you can—with an expensive charter flight or boat—but it’s simpler to go via Nassau. Thus [...]

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Eleuthera Byways: The Queen’s Baths

March 3, 2009

First published in The Eleutheran, January 2008 On the Queen’s Highway a few miles north of Gregory Town, about 300 yards before the Glass Window bridge, pull off the road across from  a sandy track leading up the hill toward the Atlantic on your right. You can’t miss it: the Ministry of Tourism has recently erected [...]

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Eleuthera Byways: Edwin’s Fishlake

March 3, 2009

First published in The Eleutheran, September 2008; more material has since been added. Three miles south of Governor’s Harbour, on the right side at the S-bends as the road plunges toward Palmetto Point, is a large saltwater lake. Passersby who stop to investigate will find the remains of a curious shed built of mortar and [...]

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