The Abacos

            I’ve been having a lovely time in the Abacos. I know it’s only been a few days since my last post, but as long as I have Internet I thought I’d update everyone on what I’m up to.

White Seal spent two nights on the dock at Hopetown. It was a mere $20 per night to keep the boat there and the facilities were top-notch. Rachel, Jake, and I were psyched to get unlimited use of a fresh-water pool and the added benefit of laundry made it a truly great experience.

As for the actual town there, it was great. The narrow streets of Hopetown are lined with clapboard houses painted every imaginable color and the well-tended gardens add to the cheery, colorful atmosphere. There were lots and lots of little touristy shops that sold things like Bahamas T-shirts and little shot glasses and all that junk. The majority of the homes are upscale vacation homes/ rentals so expensive that only the uppermost crust of America can afford to stay there. Despite the all of the wealth, Hopetown has retained a distinctive charm.

We checked out the town’s museum one day and were impressed by how well done it was. I got a crash-course in Bahamian history there and was surprised to find it rather interesting. I learned that when the first Europeans came to the Bahamas back in the 15^th century, there were about 30,000 people already living there. These native Bahamians, (called Lucayans) were completely obliterated in the next 40 years and very little is known about them as a people.

We went over to Marsh Harbor on Tuesday and anchored among about 50 other cruising boats. I went over and met up with some friends I met in Georgetown, Courtney and Olivia. Courtney was eager to show Rachel and I a boutique in town, so we immediately set out on a shopping mission. My wallet was completely empty, but it was fun to try on ridiculous dresses anyway. (I’m a teenage girl, what can I say…)

We spent Thursday in Marsh Harbor as well. The whole ambiance of the town is remarkably similar to a city in Southern Florida, complete with a KFC, sprawling shopping centers, and the perpetual stink of car exhaust. Needless to say, I am not a big fan of this type of town so I was eager to get out of Marsh Harbor and spend some time in one more truly Bahamian town before heading back to the States. This town was Green Turtle.

Green Turtle was a friendly, peaceful little settlement. It wasn’t as flawless as Hopetown, but that was almost a good thing. My parents and I met everyone from Sisu on the street and we came to the horrible realization that we are separating soon. Our family has to start moving north quickly and we’ll be crossing back into the United States ASAP. Sisu is going to be lingering in the Abacos for a while longer. 

We all stopped by Vern’s model boat shop and checked out his masterpieces. We chatted with the owner of a gift shop for a while and heard all about her experiences as an airplane pilot in a small community. We said hello to the kids as they left school for the day and walked home. We gleefully skipped along the streets, our arms linked.

We had dinner over on Sisu last night and said goodbye. The worst part of cruising isn’t the lack of showers or the bad food. It isn’t the cramped living quarters. It’s all the goodbyes that come with the lifestyle of a traveler. Fortunately their family lives in Maine so I’ll be able to visit Rachel and Jake every now and then, but leaving behind people that have become a big part of your life still just plain stinks. I thought I had said all my goodbyes when we left home back in September. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

After a few lovely, leisurely months of slow-paced travel, it’s time to move. We’ve been dragging our feet and wishing that this could go on forever, but alas we’ll be returning to the States soon. After a cold front on Sunday, we’ll be awaiting a weather window to cross the Gulf Stream. From there we’ll cruise back to Vermont as quickly as possible, skipping many of the places we visited on our trip down last fall. I absolutely love the Bahamas and am very sad to leave, but it’s time to come home.