News of The Abacos

Braving The Elements in the Abacos!
By Stephanie Humblestone

Trying to find a hot water bottle in Marsh Harbour is like trying to find a fan during an unexpected heat wave in England. I painfully recall staying one stifling summer night in a small hotel in the Cotswolds, in one of those rooms dating back to the Middle Ages where the beams almost scrape the floor. It was so hot that the I spent half the night in a cold bath and the other half with my head out of the window gasping for oxygen. It is only the recollection of that dire discomfort that makes my present one bearable. It's so cold here. My toes feel like they're about to drop off and my nose is totally numb. "It is going to be in the 40s to-night," a fellow resident of the Abacos said to me as I was boarding the ferry from Marsh Harbour to Hope Town this evening.

"Brrrrrr!" I shuddered, "it was bad enough last night. I had to get up in the night to put my socks on."

My daughter slithered away from my side, took a long teenage sigh and corrected me on both my comment and the volume of my voice.

(Volume of my voice! When you are the mother of teenage children, the amount of space between the breaths you take is even up for criticism. You can never get it quite right in public.)

However, thinking back, she did have a point. Overhearing my remark, two tourists in front of me exchanged concerned glances. I noticed they had been eyeing the wooly hats and warm sweaters of the "locals," no doubt trying to equate the image with the tourist guide description of the Bahamas. One of them seemed like he was itching to ask, "What's with the hats?" No need to ask, I mused to myself. Wait until he's two miles out at sea in ten minutes time. He'll understand.
"Is it cold over there?" asked a rather pale, wan-looking woman, registering my comment and the winter apparel of the "commuters."

"You won't be needing the sun factors any of them!" I quipped. "Go easy on her, Mum," pleaded my daughter. "I wish the elements would go easy on us," I retorted, forgetting that we are in the privileged position of enjoying radiant sunshine over three quarters of the year.

However, we all enjoy a good moan, all in the same boat, sweltering under the same sun or frozen by the same wind -whether we live in the beautiful Bahamas where it is always "better" or in the cold northern climes where it's always "worse." The weather is a great leveler, a wonderful whipping boy, a sure scapegoat. It is an initiator, too, of conversations, a barrier breaker and a common cause - a bit like being at war!

I thought at one time that a preoccupation with the weather was the prerogative of the British until I traveled the world a little. I lost count of how many people mentioned the temperature today in Marsh Harbour.

I must say, though, that "Cold, isn't it!" is actually a welcome relief from the "How are you?" which you never have enough time to answer. The inquirer will linger a little longer to discuss the weather than your state of health!

I discovered only this morning that my car has a heater. That's what the little red dots are on the air gauge. When I clicked on them this morning, the vehicle very quickly turned into a sauna and memories of blisteringly hot Bahamian summers and that horrendous night in the Cotswolds flooded back to me. It was a relief to get out into the fresh air.

"Fresh" perhaps is an understatement! A ravaging cold front is now sweeping through Abaco accompanied by biting winds. Small planes are grounded, larger air craft severely delayed and boats conspicuously absent from our rough waters. The place to be in Marsh Harbour this afternoon was definitely The Island Bakery on Don MacKay Boulevard. Enticed by the wonderful aroma of freshly baked bread, I went in to buy two loaves of their delicious whole wheat bread. Pardon the cliché but it was as warm as toast in there and crowded. No one wanted to leave! It is always a good place to go even when it's not cold.

They are first class bakers, the staff are welcoming and they offer gratis coffee all day long. They deserve the business - and my plug! Happily ensconced in the Island Bakery, I abandoned the idea of searching for a hot water bottle in Marsh Harbour and decided to go back to Hope Town and look for a brick instead! A friend had called me from Nassau before I left work. "You must be suffering up there 100 miles more north than we are," he sympathized.
"Well, y..y..ess," I shivered .

"Find yourself a brick," he suggested.

"A brick?" I questioned.

"Yes, a brick. Put it in the oven and then wrap it up well so you don't scorch the sheets and put it in your bed." When I've finished typing this, I am going to brave the elements and go in search of a brick!

It isn't exactly how I had planned spending my Wednesday evening. If my feet or sheets are scorched, I'll use it on his head!