Hooked on Smiles

FRED GARTH

For the past 25 years, Fred D. Garth’s articles have appeared in numerous books, magazines and newspapers around the world. Read his blog at: GuyHarveyMagazine.com. Of the world’s greatest lost treasures—the golden Aztec much to ourselves, stretches the entire length of the resort kingdom, the city of Atlantis and common sense in and has all the toys—volleyball, horseshoes, snorkeling government—there’s one that may be even harder to gear, and even freshwater showers to rinse of those pesky fnd…a teenager’s smile. It’s a treasure, for sure, that even a grains of sand and salt from our scorched skin. parent’s devoted love may not be able to unlock. But I had a We quickly melted into the beach life, rotating between key, or to be exact, a caye, called Grand Bahama. suntanning, snorkeling, swimming and eating. The water

I kind of fgured a few days on a tropical island might was gin clear, calm and ofered up lots of critters with which reset the teenager button and push a smile or two out of to mingle. We saw tons of big starfsh, some barracuda, my 17-year-old daughter, Teal. She’s a self-motivated teen quite a few turtles and lots of tropical fsh. On the second with an outstanding GPA, so my wife and I don’t have a lot day, a local fsherman pulled up to the shoreline in his to complain about. But I still miss her wonderful dentistry- bright yellow, 22-foot boat and started showing of a bunch enhanced grin. Of course, it’s not as if Teal walks around of fresh lobster and conch he’d harvested that morning. scowling all the time. She laughs a lot with her friends. But I was shooting for the “parent-induced” smile. “Just calm down and cast With all due respect to Grand Bahama, there are many dozens of tropical islands that will evoke like you did before we saw a blissful, blue-water state of happiness. Ours just the fish,” Tommy said.happened to be GB because it’s an easy 30-minute hopper fight from Miami, and I managed to arrange a sweet After a quick negotiation, I bought three lobsters and three travel-writer lodging discount at the Old Bahama Bay Club. conchs for about what I’d pay for one lobster back home

I wasn’t really sure if the OBB was a laid-back beach and delivered the goods to Jesse, the resort’s friendly hotel or a mega-Atlantis-style amusement park resort until cook. As I waited at the bar sipping a tasty rum and coke, I browsed the photo gallery and marveled at their upscale, Jesse created a seafood feast with rice and beans, fresh pastel, beachfront townhomes and landscaping that vegetables, potatoes and the works. I had positioned myself compares to Hawaii. My prediction was that Mama and so I could see my family’s hungry faces as they entered the the kids would be happy. As it turned out, Old Bahama Bay room. One look at the food festival Jesse had prepared was was a perfect family getaway. Oh, and it’s a member of the all it took—their eyes sparkled and wide smiles popped out Guy Harvey Outpost family, so it has Guy’s personal stamp all around, even on Jesse! Success was mine. of approval. The “hook it and cook it” option is something the

OBB is literally at the western tip of Grand Bahama, far restaurant does regularly. It’s perfect for guests and the boat away from the hustle and bustle of the island’s town center people who visit OBB’s deep-water marina. Because of its of Freeport and Lucaya. The beach, which we had pretty proximity only 68 miles from the Florida mainland and its

incredibly well protected and fortifed marina, OBB is a haven for yachters and sportfshing boats. It’s also a convenient customs checkpoint for boats entering the Bahamas. There were a couple of mega yachts slumming it, along with a dozen or so 30- to 60- foot sportfshers who were hanging out for a few days fshing, enjoying the beach and enlisting Jesse to keep their bellies happy.

After a couple of days eating, snorkeling, beach slugging and fight-testing the hammock, I could sense a shopping vibe emerging and another opportunity for happy faces. Living with three females has given me a bit of intuition, too. Grand Bahama is long (or grand, I suppose) and a good 80 miles from tip to tip, so we devoted an entire day to shopping and exploring the island. I rallied the girls to a bright and early start around 11am and packed the snorkeling gear just in case. We piled into the tiny rental car, which was more like a toaster with wheels, and pointed to the big city. Teal kept asking if she could drive, to which I replied, “Maybe…in the parking lot.” They drive on the left side of the road in the Bahamas and most intersections have “roundabouts” rather than stoplights, so it’s confusing, even for an old, dyslexic, left-hander like me. So my parenting sensors pretty much shut her down.

The Port Lucayan Marketplace

In my several decades of travel writing, I’ve visited at least 100 or so tropical islands—from Grand Cayman to St. Vincent to a little place called Yap in Micronesia—and they each have their quirks. Grand Bahama is no diferent. Sure, it’s a hot tourism spot and cruise ship destination, but GB also has a serious business résumé. It’s a tax-free haven (you can’t miss the signs); the Freeport Container Port is a worldwide shipping hub; the Grand Bahama Shipyard builds, converts and repairs massive ships, including cruise ships for the likes of Holland America and Carnival; and there are some monster residential developments. But we hit the town for wild shopping, and the Port Lucayan Marketplace ft the bill. The place takes up a few city blocks and borders the Lucayan Harbor. While I found other activities to occupy my time, the girls charged ahead into a mass of local street vendors, jewelry stores, leather shops, clothing stores and plenty of restaurants. I was enjoying my second ice-cold Kalik when the girls emerged grinning, squeaking like dolphins and riding the smile train. The 22 muscles it takes to grin were working overtime. Clockwise from top left: Old Bahama Bay’s townhomestyle accommodations. Adia Garth, 12, holding her dinner. Teal Garth performs a teenage balancing act at Lucayan National Park.

Two hours pressing against the heated crowd had them longing for another breezy beach, and I had my eye on the Lucayan National Park toward the east end of the island. There’s not only a gorgeous and ridiculously remote beach, but the park has some caverns leading into some of the most extensive underwater cave systems in the world. The cave tour takes all of about 20 minutes, if you linger. There are steps leading into the caverns and platforms to check out the crystal-clear water. The underground rivers are freshwater and stay cool year-round. Crazed cave divers have explored deep under the island and have not yet found the end. The weirdest part is that they connect to the ocean somewhere so saltwater fsh have found their way into the caves. It’s strange but also beautiful, because in the islands, fresh water is a priceless commodity.

The beach at the park was a virtual smile factory. God built this place in such a way to inspire awe into even the most jaded teen. As soon as we broke through the foliage, we were mesmerized by the deep azure and pale blues of the ocean. We didn’t swim. We didn’t snorkel. We just kind of stumbled around in the shallow water and soaked in the natural beauty surrounding us.

I have this thing about circumnavigating islands, so I had my sights set on McLean’s Town at the far eastern end. I was also trying to connect with a fshing guide. But my chances of convincing a tired family were looking grim. So I lured them to a little beach bar called Bishops at High Bluf, which is only 10 miles from McLean’s Town. The plan was to enjoy the afternoon sun and convince them to go the distance. I’m used to getting outvoted threeto-one so I didn’t kick and scream too much when they overruled my brilliant plan. I agreed…on one condition: that we grab dinner at a local juke joint called the Chicken Nest.

I’d found out about the Chicken Nest from Tommy Rolle, who also goes by Tommy Folley, after his father who is the Bahamas most noted bonefsh legend, Bonefsh Folley.

“The best conch fritters you’ll ever taste,” he said. “And, they make a pan-fried fsh that will make you want to dance. And they have these things called panny cakes that I could eat all night.”

Tommy’s been guiding for three or four decades and learned the trade from his dad, who passed last year at the age of 91. During his life, Bonefsh Folley fshed with many celebrities and two absolutely legendary human beings: Ernest Hemingway and Martin Luther King. (He also took Richard Nixon fshing.) There’s even a song about Bonefsh Folley that still plays on radio stations in the Bahamas. Tommy is a bit of a legend himself and I was not about to miss a chance at catching a big one. Details on that later.

We made it to the Chicken Nest in West End around dark thirty. It’s a tiny, cinderblock place just a long cast from the water. The parking lot was jampacked with all of about 20 cars. Music was blasting so loud I saw plaster cracking of the outside walls. This was not a tourist restaurant. In fact, I might have

Cell Phones

Unless you have an international plan, you’ll get crushed in cell phone roaming charges. Phone calls are $2/minute, incoming texts are a nickel and outgoing texts are 50 cents. I made everyone turn of their phones, but we were able to use them and the computer on Wi-Fi at the Old Bahama Bay Club. Ever the cheapskate, I bought a pair of $25 waterresistant walkie-talkies with a 20-mile range. They worked perfectly and came in very handy on numerous occasions.

Paradise Cove

After a few days, we’d pretty much snorkeled everything around the Old Bahama Bay, so we headed 10 miles down east to Paradise Cove where, for $3 bucks per snorkeler, we were granted entry into a vibrant ecosystem of hard and soft corals. We ended up going to the Cove twice and both times encountered majestic spotted eagle rays. They also have a hopping little beach bar and grill with good cracked conch, other fried goodies, cold beer, mixed drinks, ice cream—pretty much anything you need to wash the salt water out of your mouth. It’s a nice, half-day trip and highly recommended from a guy who has been scuba diving and snorkeling all over the planet. Opposite, clockwise from top left: Teal contemplates Grand Bahamas’ extensive underwater freshwater cave systems. Smiles became more frequent by the day. Ordering treats at the Paradise Cove fry shack. This page: The beach at Old Bahama Bay faces northeast and remains calm most of the time and the landscaping may prompt your spouse to buy you some garden shears when you return home.

been their frst. Not being the shy type, I stepped out and walked up to two guys standing on the porch drinking a beer. The girls elected to stay in the car.

“Is this the Chicken Nest?” I asked. There wasn’t

a sign.

“Yeah, man,” they said.

“Tommy Rolle told me the food here is excellent.”

“True that, braddah, but you better get in there and order quick. The line’s getting longer.”

They weren’t kidding. A dozen or so folks were jammed at the counter window yelling above the music, things like “conch frittas” and “fry fsh.” I joined in, screamed out my order and hoped she understood me. Then I waited. And waited. After 30 minutes, my family started to wonder what had happened to me. But those guys were right, it was wall-to-wall locals inside and the little bitty kitchen was pumping out food as fast as it could. When I fnally came out with the goods, Teal said she thought they had kidnapped me or something.

“You’ve been watching too much CSI Miami,” I told her. “I just made 50 new friends and they invited us to a party in Eight Mile Rock later tonight.”

A wide smile slid across her face. This was getting easier by the day. Back at OBB, we laid into that food like a pack of starving dogs. It was some of the best fsh I’ve ever tasted and we all ate our fll, giggled a lot and collapsed in our beds.

The Atlantic Ocean is the best pool around but fresh water is fun too.

Fishing with the New Legend

Tommy Rolle Folley is one of those laid-back guys who becomes an instant friend. He keeps his fats boat under his house, which is across the street from the boat launch and about fve minutes from prime bonefsh grounds. I’m a fairly profcient fy fsherman and Tommy checked out my motion before he decided where to go. Within 10 minutes of leaving the launch, I was staring down a group of three monster bones easing toward the bow of Tommy’s 17-foot Maverick.

“Throw now!” he said. “NOW!” I lifted the rod and lost all sense of coordination. My heart was jumping around in my chest and my arms were acting like twigs in a hurricane. Tommy’s hand-tied fy ended up in my left butt cheek. Needless to say, I missed the fsh, and the next one, and the next. I’d become a pitiful, helpless angler and Tommy just giggled at my ineptitude.

“Just calm down and cast like you did before we saw the fsh,” he said. “Don’t panic, there are lots of bonefsh out here.”

His advice was excellent but a couple of cold brewskis would have helped. That’s when he told me about the Chicken

Nest. He was saying, “…and they have these things called panny cakes that will…oh, look right there, 10 o’clock. It’s a big one.”

Maybe it was the thought of panny cakes and conch fritters that calmed my nerves. I pumped the line twice and presented the fy a couple a feet in front of that dude’s nose. It was all over. The bone took the hook and bolted like bones do. She stripped out 200 feet of line and put up a valiant fght, but I landed the fsh and Tommy gently released the big seven-pounder. Ten minutes later, he spotted another

Tommy Rolle Folley is a bonefsh legend in his own right.

beast. I was in sync and nailed it. This one fought so hard I had to take two Advil later that night. It weighed in over 11 pounds, a personal record, and a fne fsh.

As we headed back to the dock, I didn’t know what Teal was doing, but I know I had a smile going like I haven’t had in a long time. Suddenly it hit me. I’d been successful in bringing smiles to Teal’s face, but maybe I was the one who needed it the most. I think they call that serendipity. Success was mine.

For information on a trip to Grand Bahama, contact the Bahamas Tourism Agency at bahamas. com. To book a trip to Old Bahama Bay, visit OldBahamaBay.com or call 888.800.8959. For more information on all the Guy Harvey Outpost Resorts, visit GuyHarveyOutpost.com.

The author caught this personal best, 11-pound bonefsh and is still smiling about it.