The Greed of Seaweed

Seaweed.

A term used for an outsider who settles in Bimini. 

Seaweed comes, seaweed goes. Some stay to nourish the land (seaweed is a natural fertilizer), and others wash-up for moments before getting swept out to new destinations. 

Honestly, I can't blame the overt or subtle repulsion towards outsiders on the island. Tourists arrive with extravagance and dispose of US-brought goods as trash before thrusting their tri-engine boats--overstuffed with Bahamian harvested seafood--back home. 

"But we spend money! 

"Bimini needs us, otherwise they wouldn't be asking us to buy things from them." 

"I need a weekend getaway from Miami, but I don't want to lose the perks." 

As a fellow species of seaweed, I would like to be of the nourishing type that can be put to use. That vegan sushi roll type of seaweed. Seaweed will surely return, but for now it is gone with the currents. 

Escape to the Enchanted East

For most traveling to Bimini, a visit to East Wells is not the norm, nor even a checkbox on the to-do list, sadly.

The East is the 'bush,' in all its overgrown messiness, in all its virgin pureness. I have prior exposure to this area thanks to my experience working with the Sharklab--the inlets through red mangroves make for ideal lemon and nurse shark nursery grounds--but Kevin had not yet seen this critical ecological hotspot on the islands.

(View of the ferry looking back from the North West of Bimini)

(North Bimini--everything you see is threatened to be erased for housing and golf course creation)

From the Big Game, this would be a daunting journey, but well worth every step. (Fortunately we were able to hitch a lift to the Resort, cutting off 4 miles of the walk north). As the sun shone from directly above, shade was limited to directly under trees. Once the long-winded walk up the North stretch of development was finished, we entered an untouched tri-habitat of beach, Australian pine groves, and mangrove flats to our right.

The wind picked up noticeably on reaching the Northern tip. Shells jingled and tinkled as juvenile hermit crabs scuttled across the pine needle walkway to the beach sand. We glanced to the right to see land crab holes and exoskeletons just before the dense mangrove entwinement.

(Gulls sparring over fish find)

 Once we hit the northern tip, the walk south and east was easy breezy. The sun would be falling west behind the trees, while the salty wind blew bitty white caps out of the east. Gulls and pelicans searched for pilchards and baby bonefish throughout the shoreline.

(Kevin taking in the sand flats)

(A Bimini boa stretching in the falling sun, greeting us on our exit back into civilization)

We will be doing the East Wells hike again, hopefully with the kids of Bimini, and next time with more rations than our gallon of water and 3 sunflower butter and Jelly (Kevin's allergic to nuts) sandwiches. This place is beyond words...the quiet natural elements enveloped us away from the busy, dusty life of North Bimini. This place, in a few months or a year's time, may be entirely destroyed. I will venture deeper to learn about what else lives within.

-C

Foolish to be Bullish

From a few weeks back. 

A bull shark (Carcharhinus leucas) patrolling the beach at golden hour. Backdropped by horizon-lined freight ships. This was Kevin's first shark-sighting in Bimini, if I'm not mistaking. Not a bad way to start off. Backpacks and sandals were flung on the sand as we pursued the steady swimmer southbound along the wavy shoreline. It took all of my rational sense to not wade in with camera in hand, this reportedly aggressive specimen looked so at peace with itself. The choice was made to stay above water. I'm lacking a GoPro or underwater housing sorely. 

Note: I first decided this is no lemon shark (which have been spotted in this location) because the first dorsal in is disproportionately larger than the posterior one. A blacktip, possibly, though the girthy anterior suggested otherwise. I have never heard of blacktips nor reef sharks venturing off Radio Beach in North Bimini, but am open to others' insights.

-C

Social, but Separate

"They know I am a no nonsense man, that's why they've accepted me. They say, 'You know, Mr. Y, you don't put up with bullshit.' And then afterwards, they come knocking on my door for advice. It's so strange, but I can only say 'Be strong,' because you're heart is in the right place, and they will accept you too."

I think about Mr. Y's words--about the appearance of strength, about assimilation and what that even looks like in a community that lures in transients like tuna on a ballyhoo tackle. Only some take the bait wholly, though an entire school may swim in awe of the glimmer. I think about how a local possibly perceives a paradox of foreign similarity in me. My comfort. My quick sensitivity to the stings of criticism. My eagerness to show up. All for what? I shall stay in the cave. Something drew me here.

On our walk back home, I spotted these (presumably) white-crowned pigeons posing like the green parrots of Telegraph Hill, resting en masse behind the Methodist steeple. Despite the numerous electricity lines between us, I was happy to eavesdrop on the congregation.

-C

Safely Abandoned

Did this pottcake want more airflow, or a better view?

I think this picture accurately represents a large portion of the spaces I pass through in Bimini. Dreams of completion that fell to the wayside, deferred to the weathering of concrete crackling heat and metal-seeking saltwater spray. Lifted doorways prepare for the rare surge flood during hurricane season. 

The remains are always reclaimed by those less picky. A perch overlooking paradise.  

-Chris

Oh Bimini, Sweet Bimini

I haven't had much of anything stick lately. Sweep through and stick to the walls of my mind. Ideas have flown between and past, in one ear, out the other. Ideas have entered the unfurnished space and left as quickly as the planing speed boats zoom out of the dredged channel. This is a wake free zone, do not disturb! Did I forget to shut the windows again? So forgetful, I can be.

But back to the The Islands of Bimini, before that, too, slips past my tongue tip. A tarmac placed alongside shallow seas that bulb with paradaisical colors from sandy white to seagrass-tainted teal. Beware! Your wondered impression of isle idyll could soon crumble into a disappointment of dust, dirt, and neglect. Tourism has taken its toll. The initial island appeal vanishes with the overwhelming drums of passing gas-powered golf carts, a lack of shade and sidewalks, and after the seventh potato chip bag and plastic wrapper that one must trample or sidestep on his or her short stroll to the grocery store.

This blog is my honest recount after spending almost a year and a half in Bimini. More than any tourist dollar can buy, I believe Bimini requires a guiding, leading hand to redirect it from suffering the fates of its Miami neighbor, and other caribbean islands that fell victim to the human trap of development & destruction. Looking towards the elders for their wisdom. This pic peers through the unfinished 3rd floor pane of Ashley Saunders' Dolphin House, where the hope is not lost.

-Chris