April 16, 2007
Postscript
August 24, 2006
Tips
August 10, 2006
Differences
July 27, 2006
Easy to Please
July 13, 2006
Silence is Golden
June 29
Lots of Locks
June 15, 2006
Cross-Vesselers
June 1, 2006
Remembering
May 19, 2006
The Perfect Boat
May 4, 2006
In the Eye of the Beholder
April 20, 2006
Making Mistakes
April 6, 2006
Doris Does George Town
March 23, 2006
Getting Organized
March 9, 2006
Bridge Over troubled Waters
February 23, 2006
Birthdays on Board
February 9, 2006
Wild Horses & Wooden Ships
January 26, 2006
Packaging Paradise
January 12, 2006
Bored Games
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Phantom Vacation
January
15,
2004

Anchored off the dock in Baker's Bay; not a cruise ship in sight
Last week Eileen's brother Dennis and his wife Darcy visited us in Green
Turtle Cay in the northern Bahamas. During their visit they enjoyed
the shore side facilities at a local resort: swimming pool, bar, gourmet
restaurant. When they left on Friday, we felt a little deprived; maybe
we deserved a vacation, too. Fortuitously, we just happened to be a
dozen miles from Baker's Bay on Great Guana Cay -- a perfect holiday
opportunity.
Great Guana is southeast
of Green Turtle in the Sea of Abaco. In the 1980's an extensive resort
complex was built at Baker's Bay, on the northwestern
end of the island, to serve as a cruise ship stop for Premier Cruise
Lines. World wide, cruise ships seem to be a growth sector within a generally
moribund tourism economy. While airlines are going broke for a lack of
passengers and hotel vacancy rates are soaring at many fun-in-the-sun
vacation spots, the big cruise lines are adding to their fleets -- witness
the recent launching of the "Queen Mary II", the largest cruise
ship ever built. We're not talking travelling on a shoestring here. For
the price of a berth on the maiden voyage of "Queen Mary II" we
could keep cruising on "Little Gidding" for several years to
come.
A shoal bisects the Sea of Abaco a couple of miles northwest of Great
Guana, necessitating a brief jog out into the open ocean. The two passes
that provide access to deep water -- Whale Cay Channel and Loggerhead
Channel -- face the prevailing wind and seas; they're only navigable
in reasonably settled conditions. A cold front passed through last weekend
and it wasn't until Monday that the waves had acquiesced enough for us
to attempt the passes.
We had a comfortable beam reach down to Whale Cay Channel. A playful
dolphin accompanied us for part of the way. Our three mile jaunt into
the open Atlantic was lumpy, but manageable. We ducked back into Loggerhead
Channel, followed the navigational markers leading into Baker's Bay,
and joined the handful of sailboats at anchor off the resort dock. The
dock and beach were empty; there wasn't a cruise ship in sight. This
didn't surprise us. It's been over a decade since a cruise ship has visited
Baker's Bay.
Premier struck Baker's
Bay off its list of stops back in 1993. We've read that this was due
to the fact that too many visits had to be cancelled
because of rough conditions in Loggerhead Channel. A few years ago our
friend Frank gave us a different explanation. For a number of years Frank
lived alone at Baker's Bay on his ageing power boat "Some R Magic".
(He was known as the Mayor of Baker's Bay until one day he fell in love,
moved off the island, and his unattended boat was blown away in a storm
-- but that's another story.) According to Frank, Premier had a dispute
with the developer of the Baker's Bay resort and decided to construct
its own island retreat elsewhere, thus gaining total control over the
stopover (and retaining all of the income it generated). Whatever the
reason, the facilities at Baker's Bay languished for a time while the
developer sought another cruise line client. Without proper maintenance
the structures slowly deteriorated. There were no takers and everything
was finally abandoned.
We began our resort
holiday on Tuesday morning by taking the dinghy across to the small
island facing Baker's Bay. Aptly named "Spoil
Bank Cay", it was created when the channel into Baker's Bay was
dredged to accommodate large vessels. Now it makes for perfect shelling.
David, who's not the world's most patient or observant beachcomber, stumbled
upon an unusually colourful, fully intact, sunrise tellin. The rising
tide cut short our shelling expedition and we headed back to the abandoned
dock near the north end of Baker's Bay.

All the performances at the open air stage were cancelled
Next to the dock
were numerous pilings, the remains of underwater pounds that once held
dolphins captive for the viewing pleasure of visiting
passengers. "We had our dolphin show yesterday," David remarked.
We followed the path leading inland from the dock. Casuarina trees were
crowding the resort's walkways and obscuring many of the buildings. The
first large structure we encountered was an open air theatre. The broken,
rusted remains of lighting and sound equipment were still in place. Eileen
climbed on stage and surveyed the tiers of empty benches. "Today's
performance is cancelled," she announced to the silent audience.

Casuarina and palm trees mostly obscured the main dining hall; we couldn't recommend its meals
Continuing towards
the centre of the resort complex, we stopped at a thatched roof tiki
bar. "The service here is pretty slow," Eileen
complained. The display counters at the gift boutiques were trashed. "If
you'd like a souvenir, I'll give you the shell I found," David offered.
Further along, in the water sports area, bushes were sprouting among
the wrecks of several jet skis. "Never cared for them," David
said, "too noisy. Our dinghy is much more practical."
The first time we
visited Baker's Bay a half dozen years ago the ceiling fans, stoves,
refrigerators, and sinks were still in place in the main
dining hall. Now everything was gone; even the ceramic tiles on the counters
had been lifted. A full course meal seemed out of the question. "We'll
grill some of that pork tenderloin we bought in Florida when we get back
to the boat," Eileen promised.

A solitary bird was our only company on the beach
We retraced our steps
to the dock and headed down the beach. There was no one else on the
mile long crescent of sand. A nervous shore bird darted
along a few paces ahead of us. "I guess we beat the crowd," David
remarked.
When we got back to the boat David poured a couple of rum drinks and
fired up the grill. Eileen played her guitar as dinner cooked. Afterwards,
we watched the stars come out one by one in the darkening sky. The wind
had died and a quarter moon glimmered on the gently undulating sea. We
congratulated each other on a successful vacation: Great weather, lots
of healthy exercise, a few souvenirs, good food and drink, fine entertainment.
And it hadn't cost us a cent.
Cheers,
David & Eileen
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