Beach, Rinse, Repeat

Though not as fraught with as many perils and frustrations of most of my trips, the adventure to the Abacos islands of the Bahamas with my Mom's brother et family was not without its adventures. We began in the hills of Georgia's northland where the Cessna 310 waited to pick me up in Cartersville, GA; which is a far easier airport to manage than ATL. Then from the comfort of the copilot's seat Kim, Keith, Eric and I were off to Ft. Pierce, FL to spend the night on the...ummm enchanting..."Treasure Coast". Where we met our beloved hotel madam, Joy (aka Fireplug, see pic). Fireplug was the proprietress of the alway luxurious "Regal Inn", Ft. Pierce's finest hotel experience, complete with Totinos Pizza Rolls and powdered donuts. I have a hard time putting into words how unusual Joy and her freak of a husband were but let's just say that if they had a basement full of dead vacationers I wouldn't be all to surprised. We were more than happy to say goodbye to Fireplug the next morning and load up the 310 for our last leg to the Islands of the Bahamas.

Touching down at the Marsh Harbor Airport we quickly maneuvered out of the way of approaching aircraft that are dangerously close to landing before you clear the runway. (and by runway I mean open space with dirt taxiways) Lady Barbs, the pleasantly plump cab driver, shuttled us between the grocery store, where we bought the BEST frozen pizzas I’ve ever had, and other necessary stops before dropping us at the marina to pick up our 19 foot outboard for the week. Loading our massive amount of luggage and food into the boat we left most of it (including Uncle Keith’s two 30lbs bar bells) on the bow as it was easier to leave it there than stash it in the back. Just as we were ready to pull out I asked Kim if the water would be choppy and if we should move things to the back to limit splashing. Kim assured me that last year was very calm and they had no problems (and last year they had Lumpy aboard!) so I didn’t worry. Pulling out of the protected waters of the marina it was instantly evident that the calm seas prediction wasn’t going to hold as the bay was filled with whitecaps. Almost right away the waves began crashing over the bow and within two minutes we were all soaked and desperately moving everything to the back in an attempt to keep the boat above water. Pulling up to our private pier we, along with all the bags, were saturated but happy to have arrived.

Lubber’s Quarters, which is part of the Abacos chain, is only a few square miles with a handful of houses, no cars and absolutely no distractions. The house was situated on a small private beach complete with palm trees and a hammock…what more could you ask for. Seven nights passed much faster than expected and most every day followed the same pattern, wake up, go to the beach, go out on the boat to a neighboring island and cap off the day with a first run bootleg movie fresh from the Orient on one of Keith’s many Asian adventures. One notable event for the week was visiting far away Guana Cay where we met Mr. (or was is Miss) Bodangles, our Bahamian transvestite who entertained us with a game of ring toss while wearing hot pants. Ms. B then proceeded to the bar where she/he sat Indian style on a bar stool for the enjoyment of the local patrons. Ms. Bodangles in all his/her glory was captured on film in one of my finest covert photos ever. Though I’m not sure how I managed to be covert as Kim nearly peed her pants laughing so hard.

A week on a private island was just what I needed to recover from all my hard work traveling the world. I had a blast hanging with my cousin Eric and spending time with the fam. The only thing missing was Baby Kelly, who was unable to join us because she had to attend to her studies up at UK….. we missed ya Baby Kelly….and Lumpster too!

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