Elizabeth Harbor in George Town, nicknamed ‘Chicken Harbor’
for the amount of boats that are semi-permanently anchored (and don’t go
anywhere else), is full of boats during high season (Jan-April). The anchorage is actually across the harbor
from the George Town settlement and has a life of its own- for better or
worse. Many anchored here do not and
will not interact with the Bahamians on the mainland unless they are ordering a
drink or paying for propane. The hub of
activity on the boat side of the harbor, not surprisingly, is centered around a
beach bar named Chat n’ Chill. There are
permanent volleyball courts installed next to the bar and daily volleyball
games (giving the beach the name volleyball beach). There are also plenty of picnic tables to lounge
around and open space for kids and dogs to play. (There is also a conch salad shack- which
makes the best conch salad around! The
discarded conch attracts sting rays- which swim right up to the beach- pretty
cool.)
Our stay in Elizabeth Harbor has included quite a few trips
from our anchorage to Volleyball beach.
And although we don’t really participate in the PLETHURA of organized
activities, we did get caught up in the week of the cruiser’s regatta. The regatta
is a 7-10 day blitz of activities ranging from very serious big boat racing to
a whacky coconut harvest to coconut boat races.
The coconut boat race is where my foot and a blade crossed paths...
During the lead-up to the coconut boat race, a fellow
cruiser organized a coconut boat making workshop. Not really the workshop you might imagine,
but more like 4 picnic tables full of power tools, sticks and coconuts, and
kids and adults everywhere…using powertools…with bare feet. Sweet 8-year-old Eli, Cyrus’ best buddy on Whistling Cay, was
standing next to me, trying to pry the flesh out from an opened coconut with a
mutli-plier knife. I remember Eli saying, “Oh no!” and looking down at my foot
where the knife was sticking straight up from what looked like between my 3rd
and 4th toes. I thought at
first that the knife was simply between my toes, but when I bent down to pick
it up, I noticed that it was stuck through my foot. Eli, who is the nicest kid around, and of
course would be the last person to ever hurt anyone, was mortified and more upset
than I was. Nathan, Eli’s dad, and Tyler
came over and offered to pull the knife out, but I knew that I had to do it
myself. I removed the knife and looked
up and realized that I had a 400 meter trek across the beach to clean out the
wound. Wendy, Eli’s mom, helped me
across the sand and eventually out to her dinghy and boat and their amazing
first aid kit. There is a clinic in
George Town, however, it was closed-of course- emergencies do not happen during
normal business hours. My treatment on
Whistling Cay was awesome, however, and I don’t think the George Town clinic
would have served me rum drinks with my ibuprofen.
..and now I can say I was knifed on Volleyball beach.