Cold Fronts and Calypso Beats

Tuesday, January 26, 2010


The cold front passed through yesterday afternoon, bringing overcast skies, a shift of the wind from the southeast to the north, and a brief welcome burst of rain to wash our decks, sails, and windows.  After a Sunday spent gathering the soaked sheets and blankets from the drenching caused by leaving a porthole open on the crossing, we spent the day working under a sky that gradually filled with clouds, against a wind that moved around a clock dial through the SE to the S to the SW to the W to the NW, and finally, with cool air and a brilliant night sky, to the north.  As the rain shower began, we took advantage of the free fresh water to scrub the boat down with brushes and soap.  Water is 30 cents a gallon in these islands, a result of diminishing aquifers, pricey diesel to run desalination plants, and a relative dearth of rainwater to fill cisterns.  The clocking wind also brought us relief from the hourly checking of our fenders, used to keep the boat from slamming against the dock’s pilings.  Now the wind pushes us off the dock, and our new problem is adjusting the lines so that each boarding and disembarking doesn’t require a cartoon-like stretch of legs and arms.


Before the rain, laundry, re-packing the supplies in the now-again dry bilges, and making a trek to the building supply store to purchase some planking for future use in tenuous docking arrangements took up the better part of the day.  Engaging with the island’s commercial enterprises allows us to understand more about the people that call Bimini home.  We met Melinda, who runs the laundromat; Tin-Tin, who rides the streets in a bicycle festooned with license plates and Mardi Gras beads; the tram driver who sang to the calypso songs of Bimini native Stevie S., currently serving 5 years in the Nassau jail for statutory rape; a host of local fishermen looking to sell us lobster and conch; and Anthony, who heads up the security service at the nearby South Bimini Sands Resort.  We first met Anthony the afternoon before at Big John’s Bar, at the end of our dock, where we traded stories about football games as we watched the NFL conference championships while updating our blogs and drinking sodas, beers, and whiskey sours.  Security guards make about $300/week in at that exclusive resort and marina; healthcare insurance takes about $9/week out of that check.


Later, after the rain, after some well-deserved naps, and as the sun began to set, the Abaco-based calypso band Hipnotics set up shop at Big John’s, along with the crew of several local fishing boats returning from the Banks after a few days of commercial spearfishing for grouper, hogfish, and snapper.  Like fishermen everywhere, they were ready to drink, dance, and party.  A grill appeared; conch were broken open, pounded until tender, and along with chicken wrapped in foil, put on a rolling barbecue.  Drinks emerged from the bar, from bottles tucked around corners on the dock, and from hip flasks.  The lean, bright-smiled drummer knocked his sticks together four times, the keyboardist pounded the keys and the offstage bassist kicked into a solid 6 hour set of remarkably tight, well-rehearsed mix of reggae, calypso, and hip-hop.  Highlights?  A great medley of Marley’s “Stir it Up” with the Motown classic “Tracks of my Tears,” and (who could imagine) a fast-paced sunny-side-up version of the antiwar classic “Where Have All The Flowers Gone.”  By this time, Anthony had graciously asked Stephen for permission to ask Guita to dance, and proceeded to relate to Guita his recollection of where the Flowers had all gone.  Billy Flowers went to Nassau; Jimmy went to the U.S., and so on.  It turns out there is a large family of Flowers on Bimini.  Who knew?


By 9:30, probably just as the party was gearing up, we were winding down.  Back to the boat; a few moments reflecting on the progress made over the day; and a restful night with the boat safely kept off the dock by a cool dry wind.  The front had passed through; the rain had washed away the salt and grime; and through the hulls, the infectious beat of the Hipnotics’ played on through the night.


/jon