Striking color and light. The second blog of this series about island travel adventures.
When I remember Eleuthera, the light and color rush in. By getting up earlier than my daughters, I enjoyed an hour or two each morning sitting on the sofa, staring over the top of the pool across miles of sea into the Atlantic Ocean’s horizon. The blues evolved across the landscape, shifting from the perky aqua of the pool to vibrant turquoise near the dock. From there, further out, the darker blue of deeper water drifted into an infinitely deep, dark navy. The morning sky lifted and lightened as the start of the morning passed. The sky marked the minutes by transforming from a rose-tinted pale gray to a milky white and then settled in as a translucent robin egg blue high in the sky.
I watched the endless movement of the clouds and the palms swishing back and forth. I
watched the water ripple and thrash, matching the intensity of the palms blowing in the wind. As I watched the sea, I noticed that the images of the waves were distilled into tiny reflections under the tropical sun, like dots of paint the impressionists used to build likenesses of reality.
Our home for the week faced west. As we settled in for the evening or stopped by briefly before going out again, the Atlantic horizon gave us a show. Each evening's sunsets featured drastically different gold, orange, or fiery red color palettes. The late afternoon cloud patterns sorted and framed the colors. When not obscured by clouds, the sun was white with its heat as it reluctantly sunk below the line separating the sea from the sky.
TURTLES
Sea turtles captivate my oldest daughter, Jana. All animals do, but sea turtles are among her most favorite. One of our excursions in Eleuthera was to find some of these elusive creatures. That day, the Captain had equipped our boat with snorkel gear and treats for the turtles and fish. After a long, bouncy boat ride, we dropped anchor in an area where the water was three to four feet deep with a white sand bottom. The water was almost perfectly clear with a pale, icy green tinge, like pistachio gelato. As the boat came to a stop, the turtles started showing themselves. The Captain tossed out a few pieces of squid, and then they were all there.
These were Green Sea Turtles. They were jewels on the water’s setting.
The girls took a small bucket of squid with them as they got in the water. They were instructed not to let their fingers dangle, and if the turtles got too close, to give them a soft nudge away. The turtles drifted in and out in a gentle ballet. Jana carefully lifted a small turtle out of the water for a moment to hold it. We were all enthralled with how graceful they were. If I had to pick a favorite moment of the trip, this would be it.
In addition to their grace, these gentle creatures boasted a stunning design. The body and shells were etched with a geometric set of sections varying in size, separated by white borders as though an artist had rendered the design. The large sections of the shell revealed a pattern within the grayed green and caramel brown coloring. The pattern looked like each section was spun, flinging paint into radial patterns out from one edge. Each turtle was an exhibit of nature’s artistry.
SAPPHIRE HOLE
There were more stunning colors to be seen. Jumping off a platform on the side of a cliff isn’t
my cup of tea, but my daughters each jumped not once but twice into Sapphire Hole. The platform was twenty or more feet above the water at Sapphire Hole, surrounded by a cliff formation. The climb up to get out was difficult. There was a rope ladder that swung and twisted as you climbed. The last six feet required climbing the narrow ledges of the near-vertical cliff face and hanging on to small trees and branches along the cliff.
Salt-water-filled cenotes like Sapphire Hole connect to the ocean somewhere deep inside. The ads said this hole is about 90 feet deep in the circle formed by the limestone cliffs. I saw two distinct colors on the water’s surface as I looked down from the jumping platform. The cliffs shadowed about half the water in an inky marine blue color. The brighter teal blue appeared where the sun reached the surface inside the round formation. Where the two areas mingled in tiny ripples, the colors resembled the depth and richness of color in a sapphire ring.
WAHOO
Water activities and beaches filled most of our time on this small, rural island in the Atlantic Ocean. Deep-sea fishing was again on the schedule, though this fishing trip was different. We sailed through seas of brilliant turquoise and blues as we left the coast into the more murky navy blue, indicating deeper waters of the Atlantic Ocean. The swells were three to five feet high. With blinding brilliance, light glinted off the broken planes of each rise. Where did I put my sunglasses?
The boat was rocking about in those swells any time it stopped. When we were moving, the boat bounced. Our outfitter had three lines for trolling on the back. The boat moved constantly except for a short time to land our two prizes. The first fish was a whopper that our guide estimated at over 50 pounds. The tiger stripe pattern of the Wahoo reflected the strength of the fish in fighting capture. The stripes were lighter shades of silvery blue than the rest of the fish. The Wahoo’s body was lighter silver underneath and deepened to a shadowy navy-tinged pewter as you moved your eyes up the side of the fish toward its narrow fin. There was an iridescent glimmer across areas not in direct sunlight.
Jana and Amy, took turns at the reel, trying to bring the monster in while the boat was moving. The boat's forward motion ensured the line stayed taut, and the fish could not shake off the hook. It was exhausting to watch, and they were getting tired despite spelling each other. Finally, the Wahoo broke the surface, enabling the guide to gaff him and bring him on board.
Past fishing excursions were every woman for herself. Each daughter was on a different side of the boat with a competitive atmosphere. This outing was a team effort. The choreography was challenging in close quarters. Amy had to slide behind her sister to grab the reel bolted to the side of the boat. To escape for a break, Jana would nimbly slide closer to the reel and contort her arm to hold the line taut until Amy was ready to grab the reins. We lost one fish to slack in the line early in the day when the exchange was made.
BEACH
After our successful fishing adventure, we regrouped on the beach at Tippy’s Bar and Grill for a late lunch. As we waited for our seafood, the afternoon light revealed the pink tones in the beach sand. After ordering from our table on the deck next to the beach, we walked a few steps to look closer and snap some photos. Following another delicious seafood meal, we returned to the beach for a long walk.
I don’t think I would have thought of this stretch of beach as pink if I hadn’t been told it was.
The beach wasn’t Barbie pink. I would say the pink luster wasn’t always visible. The tint is dependent on the light to reveal the mystery. The vibrant turquoise hue of the water contrasted with the sand and enhanced my ability to perceive the pink.
I thought of this ephemeral color as a pale rose-tinted beige. From brochures around the island, I discovered later the color was the result of microscopic coral insects, foraminifera, that possess bright pink shells. When they die, their shells become part of the sand. When the light was right, the color was distinctive and unmistakable. The light had to be right to see the pink: not too bright or dark. The sand also had to be not too wet or dry. The afternoon seemed to be the best time for a stronger pink color.
GLASS WINDOW
Eleuthera is a long, string bean of an island. It’s 110 miles long and roughly a mile wide for most of the length. Our rental was located in the central part of the island, known as Governor’s Harbour, but most of our excursions were based at a dock on the island's north end. The dock was a little over an hour’s drive along the Queen’s Highway, the only north and south corridor running the length of the island. There were no stoplights on the island. Near the dock, there is a one-lane bridge, named the Glass Window Bridge, over the narrowest point of the island, which is about 30 feet wide.
Standing on the Glass Window Bridge facing south, you see the Atlantic Ocean on your left and a completely different color of water in the Bight of Eleuthera on the right. A bight is a long, gradual recess in a shoreline that forms an open shallow bay.
Signage near the bridge explains that a stone arch once crossed the opening between the two bodies of water. When Winslow Homer painted and named the stone arch he saw in 1885, he was on an assignment for a magazine to produce watercolors of the Bahamas.[1] That painting, “Glass Windows, Bahamas,” doesn’t capture the two colors on each side but is a photorealistic look at the rock formation at that time. I wish I could have seen that natural arch rather than a bland but functional concrete one-lane bridge.
The rock arch collapsed during a storm and was replaced in 1949 by the bridge I am standing on. The water on the Atlantic side has strong waves crashing and beating on the rocks below in a froth of foam and dark blue waters. The water on the opposite side is a more tranquil, translucent turquoise, with the white sand visible below. The color tells you about the depth and texture of the rock and sand below the water that is separated only by a narrow band of rock about 30 inches wide that is at times crossed by the Atlantic’s tallest waves.
THE HEART OF ELEUTHERA
In addition to water-based fun, we visited many local shops and explored the island's history, such as the Haynes Library, which was built in 1897. We walked in neighborhoods, avoiding the heavy traffic on Queen’s Highway. We immersed ourselves in the charm of old and new churches and colorful homes in all stages and conditions. I noticed many homes had clothes hanging on an outside clothesline, which I also saw in the Greek Islands.
Some homes were the pastel colors I often associate with island living, while others were vibrant colors, including deep purples and reds. The churches were also colorful. Some were white and had colorful trim, while others were the pastel colors we observed on the island’s homes. The governmental office building for the island was a screaming, bright pink decked out for Christmas with religious and secular displays on the government grounds.
The Haynes Library was a marvel that had survived the island's hurricanes over the years. It
had been damaged on several occasions but repaired and restored. The library was a soft pink with a hint of a coral shade to the paint. The Victorian-style gingerbread trim was white, with a rich pastel turquoise green color accent. Visitors to the island can check out books, but we weren’t staying long enough for that.
The groceries and gas were expensive. The gas was over six dollars a gallon. The stores were small but different from our modern convenience stores. They reminded me of the local store in rural Arkansas, where my grandparents lived. No big box stores existed on the island, no McDonald’s or Walmart.
On Sunday morning, as we drove north on Queen’s Highway, we saw many people walking along the road to local churches in dressy church clothes. Some men wore suits and ties, and we noticed women walking along the road in colorful dresses. A few women wore dress hats.
REFLECTION
There were many highlights from this December trip. The island's people were warm, friendly, and open to conversation, all speaking English. Many traditions remained from the island's colonization by Great Britain, which ended in 1973. We were reminded of this as Jana drove like a native effortlessly on the left side of the road every day. This relatively undeveloped island had a relaxed tropical feel. The water-based activities were varied and plentiful. The food and drink were first-rate at the small roadside places and the fancier restaurants. It was a short five-day and four-night trip. I still enjoy drifting back in my mind to the waves, the colors, and the light of Eleuthera.
[1] Brooklyn Museum. Winslow Homer. Glass Windows, Bahamas. ca 1885.