Arrival in the Bahamas
I showed my new passport, driver’s license, and airline ticket at the United counter. Everything was fine and they checked my bag to Andros Town.
I went through a maze of gates and metal detectors to find my way to Gate B7 where I would fly to Denver. I sat down with my camera case and watched the businssmen punch their laptops and talk business on their cell phones.
An hour later I was buckled up and could see the airport landscape of yellow numbers and lines moving in the window. The engines roared and thrust the plane into the Montana sky. The mountains were covered with snow and I could see the great Yellowstone River wander through the snowscape.
As the jet climbed higher into the sky the landscape turned into soft evening clouds. A short dream later I was in Denver, Atlanta, and then Fort Lauderdale. I called Lexi on my small fold open cell phone and told her I was ok and would soon be flying to Andros.
Late afternoon we walked out on the airstrip and boarded a twin prop plane. Minutes later we were in the warm Florida sky. The landscape became dark ocean blue dotted with cloud shadows.
Suddenly the water became turquoise as we flew over the reef. I could see boats and fishing activity as we came closer to Andros. The plane’s wings tipped and the aqua seaworld turned sideways, showing a big island with green, earthy brown, and few houses.
I stepped into and ocean song world and followed the other passengers to the immigration office where I had my passport stamped. I could see my burgundy bag on the small luggage rack.
As I turned around I saw Dan with his big smile and brown suntanned face with white eyes left from purple sunglasses. He had me get in a taxi going to Herman Bain’s place in Bowen Sound.
I was greeted by tall pine trees surprisingly intermingled with coconut trees. The driver called them Andros pines. He told me stories of hungtin wild boar and pigeons. Dan followed closely behind as it was customary for the natives to drive you from the airport to help their economy.
Soon I could see a white concrete block building with one gas pump in front. A sign read Last Chance Grocery. This was where I would stay.
I handed the driver thirty dollars and greeted Dan again as he said, “Hey, man, this is it!” He opened the door to the apartment and as I expected it was full of fly rods, fly boxes, and fishing clothing with the Beartooth logo on them.
The aqua blue interior had a small kitchen, bathroom, and living room with a white wooden bonefish with a red tarpon fly in it.
That evening Dan said we were going to eat at Hank’s Place in the main town of Andros. We drove seven or eight miles and took a left turn at the sign of Andros. After crossing a one lane bridge across Fresh Creek we arrived in the village of Andros. The houses were concrete block painted in bright colors, pink, orange, blue, and multi-bright colors.
We made a few turns and came to Hank’s Place, an old wood building that looked like a set for Gilligan’s Island. Several people were on the deck drinking Klick Beer and smoking cigarettes. Dan introduced me but I already knew two of them from a fly shop on the Big Hole River in Montana.
We ordered beers and sat with them. The word was the wind had been blowing hard for a couple of weeks and fishing was slow. I looked over the menu and chose sautéed conch, which was fantastic. Later we returned to Herman’s place and dreamed of bonefish and barracuda.
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Copyright © Bern Sundell 2007. All Rights Reserved.
