Dunmore Town - by Elsie

“Let’s go on an adventure” announces the skipper on a bright and sunny morning. I thought this whole thing was THE adventure but I listened closely. My definition of “adventure” and his is sometimes very different. It turned out he was suggesting a “good” adventure. I have to be very careful when the skipper suggests things, look where it got me!!!!

One of the places I had wanted to see was Harbour Island, more specifically Dunmore Town, where the rich and famous allegedly holiday far away from the maddening crowds. Harbour Island is a mere hop, skip and jump from Spanish Wells so it should be easy to get there. However, mother nature has been sneaky and put a reef in the way, Devil’s Backbone, and all Water guides and reference books do not recommend the sailing trip from one island to the next unless you are local or got a local pilot on board which costs upwards of $300 dollars. The fast ferry costs about $50 dollars per person one way and on our budget that was a no no. Lionel had looked carefully at the charts and tides and was 90% sure we could do it but there was always going to be that 10% so we gave it a miss and sailed (or drifted) gallantly onwards.

Now today we were anchored off the Glass Bridge. The Bridge used to be a stone arch that linked the narrow north part of Eleuthera to the fatter southern part. A long ago hurricane had blown the arch away and now a bridge stood in its place. It is very impressive. The calm Bahamian Sea on one side and the rough turbulent Atlantic Ocean on the other. All shades of blue you could think of and even more you have never seen. The proposed adventure was to hitchhike to Harbour Island, just a mere 6 or 7 miles away. Ah, my kind of adventure! So, a picnic lunch was made and a bottle of water stowed away in the backpack. We made sure we had money and a camera, how many times have we set off and forgotten these two essential items?

The first part of the journey was easy, dingy ashore and carry the dingy up the beach, past high water and secure it to a rock with a hole in it. Done. We climbed the shore up to the road, Queen’s Highway, no less. Then came a discussion on how best to hitchhike. My thoughts were to walk along the road and stick your thumb out when you hear a car coming from the appropriate direction. The reasoning being, If you kept on walking you get nearer your destination if you don’t get a lift and it makes you look energetic and positive to the would be lifter. Lionel wanted to stay at a safe spot for drivers to stop so we wouldn’t cause an accident. We compromised. We found a safe place for drivers to stop and when we heard a car we started walking and stuck our thumb out. After three minutes of this technique a car stopped. WOW! They were going to the ferry terminal and yes they would take us. We got in and the two ladies regaled us with stories about their lives and the islands. They worked in one of the luxury hotels on Harbour Island and were very busy with Christmas coming up. We were dropped off at the pier while they went to park. The “ferries” were really only water taxis which held a dozen passengers. At $5 dollars a head a very tidy business but we did muse how much they had to pay to actually run the route. The water taxi only took a matter of minutes to gulf the expanse between the islands and before we knew it we were on Harbour Island.

Looking towards the Devil's Backbone.

Lovely tree lined leafy main thoroughfare with posh shops, houses and hotels on one side and a beautiful views over to Eleuthera on the other. Huge motor boats parked at docks. There wasn’t a shortage of money here. We strolled along the street making comments about house prices, house colours and shaded and sunny gardens. I decided my multi million dollar house would be painted sunshine yellow while Lionel favoured light blue. Now, we were down to one working snorkelling mask we were on the lookout for a dive shop which we found. A nice lady sold us a snorkel and mask and we had a conversation with the owner who assured us there was not a jellyfish problem in these waters even though we sailed through a huge quiver (I so want that to be the collective noun for a lot of jellyfish) of them offshore. She also told us we would very unlikely see any hammerhead sharks. If you want to see them head for the Bimimi Islands.

Continuing our stroll we passed the library, the hospital and the graveyard. The skipper looked for a lawyers office on the other corner but the population were not as cynical as he is. Going towards the back streets the houses became smaller and instead of a gardener tending a beautiful garden there were chickens running around the back yards and ladies sitting on the front steps gossiping with their neighbours and passers by, little shacks for shops and men riding old rickety bikes with no brakes. Ah Bahamas, the contrast. We walked down to the northern shore and speculated on where the Devils Backbone was and what entrance an intrepid sailor would use to sail back to Spanish Wells. The skipper got out his Nav App and we were soon informed of all facts we needed to sail back but we didn’t need to. I short stroll back along to the ferry pier and we had seen Dunmore Town. It only took just over a hour. My sole purpose for being here was to get an ice cream, a lovely home made creamy ice. We had only passed one ice cream parlour, we knew what street it was on but if we walked up one of the cross streets we didn’t know which way to turn when we got to the junction. It was hot. It was sunny. It was sticky and really I didn’t have the energy to do it so instead we got the water taxi back.

Dunmore town

My greatest fear was that hitch hiking would not work on the way home. Lionel had estimated the distance to be about 6 miles from Ruby to the ferry pier but the pier was not in the place we thought it was. It was round the corner and beyond the “International” airport. It was International, planes flew to Miami from here! So, add on another 5 maybe 6 miles to our homeward journey. As we got off the water taxi a gentleman in a suit and tie approached us asking if we wanted a taxi. We answered in the negative but I did look longingly at the clean, air conditioned mode of transport he was pointing at. No. We are made of sterner stuff than that. On we went. We didn’t even get to the exit of the car park when our first lift stopped, a man going home to Lower Bogue. He wasn’t very talkative but dropped us off at the corner five miles down the road. Our next lift turned the corner while we were still waving the first off, a young guy who texted and spoke on his mobile phone for the 3 miles he took us. It was a bit unnerving but I don’t think I was in a position to point out that he was endangering his as well as our lives by not paying attention to where he was going. The next and last lift was a dotting grandfather on his way to Hatchett bay to deliver Christmas presents to his 5 year old grand daughter. He dropped us off at Glass Bridge where we wanted to take some pictures of the bridge and others of Ruby in the distance. After another short walk and dingy ride we were home, three hours after we left to have an adventure. We know how to have an adventure AND be home in time for lunch and some serious sun bathing in the afternoon.

The adventure highlighted a few things I have become to take for granted on our travels. The first is never believe what the guide books tell you. Dunmore Town was supposed to be the loveliest town you will ever see in The Bahamas. Nonsense. It was nice. It was tidy in some places. It was ramshackle in others but I have seen lovelier. The most important thing it highlighted tome was human kindness. I am weekly overwhelmed with the kindness strangers show to us. Hitch-hiking on a strange island. Complete strangers, but four people stopped to help us along the way. They showed interest in where we were going and what we are doing and what we had done and shared stories about their lives and islands in a quiet and generous manner.