“Because it is there” is allegedly the reason British mountaineer George Mallory provided for climbing to Mt. Everest’s summit. Sir Edmund Hilary and Tenzig Norgay were the first to accomplish this feat, noshing on Kendal Mint Cake while enjoying the view from the peak. Some mountaineers attempt every peak on a continent, others go for the top ten highest in the world, and still others go for the most challenging faces. A friend of mine has the dream of climbing to Everest’s base camp, and acknowledges that she will have to cross a dizzying rope bridge to do so. “But look at the brochure photo,” she reassures me with brazen confidence, “the rope bridge can hold seven yaks.”

I never had any such delusions regarding the outdoors. I don’t do avalanches and glaciers and the final resting places of intrepid climbers marked only by their own frozen corpses studding the snow. I trek for the journey, not for the destination. I’m a sensible, stop-and-smell-the-orchids type of hiker. I watch birds and stoop to examine mushrooms. I pat clumps of moss, provide hand-over-hand treadmills for stick insects, and occasionally sprawl out in the crackly leaf litter under a bush to rest.

Flamingo Hill is the highest summit in the Turks & Caicos.

But now I have gotten myself into a bit of an unexpected situation. Through botanical fieldwork, I had conquered the highest peaks on the islands of Grand Turk, South Caicos and Middle Caicos. Then in November 2010, a precedent was set when, along with a team of colleagues, I ascended to the highest summit in the Turks & Caicos Islands — Flamingo Hill in East Caicos. The journey to the top was difficult, but I caught the mountaineering bug. Views from these peaks are astounding, and they can be climbed without much in the way of gear.

A peek at the peaks
These peaks are the tops of ridges that arose from the gradual accumulation — estimated at 5 centimetres per 1000 years — of calcium compounds precipitating out of sea water to form oolitic limestone. They all formed under the waters of oceans that were, at some time in history, much higher. The Turks & Caicos Islands, along with the Bahamas, began forming as far back as before the Jurassic Period, 145 – 200 million years ago. Exposure to air and occasional washings of acidic rainwater make many of the ridges barren of soil and covered in a hard patina of smooth, bare, weathered bedrock. Acidic rainwater has also worn holes into the limestone in some places, creating everything from small pockets where dusty soil may accumulate, to significant caves. Plants cling into these pockets and into cracks and fissures in the rocks.
It was some of these plants that brought me to some of the highest ridges in Middle Caicos. Wild populations of Christmas palm Pseudophoenix sargentii grow on a few of the highest hills in Middle Caicos, rooted into tiny pockets of soil on the sparsely-vegetated peaks. One of the highest ridges in Middle Caicos, Freetown Hill overlooking Lorimers, also plays host to a number of red orchids Encyclia rufa (which disobediently bloom cream or yellow in the Turks & Caicos Islands), gripping onto the trunks of shrubs with no need for soil, a scarce commodity at the tops of hills.

Dwarfed trees like this joe-wood are common on the eastern ridge of South Caicos.

Treks to the highest points of South Caicos were carried out in search of tiny Bahamas buttonbush Borreria bahamensis which prefers sandy stacks on the tops of windward ridges as its habitat. Many of these ventures resulted in surprises, like the golden-leaved true lignum vitae Guaiacum officinale (far rarer here than the sacred lignum vitae Guaiacum sanctum) squatting on the top of the windward ridge over South Caicos’ eastern shore, with the rare Turks & Caicos endemic plant silvery silverbush Argythemnia argentea huddled beneath them. Forming meadows between these one-tree forests in miniature grow swaths of wind-stunted rong bush Wedelia bahamensis, a Bahamas and TCI endemic answer to the sunflower, humbly holding its yellow blossoms stiffly in the incessant windward ridge-top breeze. Far below to the west, feral donkeys lumbered along their ancient trails between ponds along Back Road and farther west the weathered town of Cockburn Harbour looked quaint and hazy, stabbed by an anachronistic cell phone tower.

Farther north, a clamber up the surprisingly high hills on the northern peninsula of South Caicos yielded a panorama out over Columbus Passage past a hillside thickly clothed in Inagua silver top palms Coccothrinax inaguensis, their shiny green and silvery-bottomed leaves forming a tumultuous windblown ocean of sea-foam and green. I strained my eyes downward to follow my botanical students on their search for more silvery silverbush as they sunk below the waves of jade and silver, the steady wind speedily flipping through my notebook and several times relieving me of my hat.

Taking a beating?

Wind-swept habitats are perfect for woolly nipple cactus.

This hike above the mountainside forest of silver top palms was perhaps good practice for what would come in the following year. In May 2010 I hiked with a team in East Caicos inland from the east coast and north toward Drum Hill, on that island’s northeast corner. Chopping our way through the dense tangle of twisted trees growing in the alluvium at the base of the hill, we eventually made it above the “tree line” — here not controlled by climate, but rather the lack of soil to support large trees. At the summit, plates of broken cap rock teeter-tottered as we padded over them carefully, mindful of the possibility of caves below the rock. Turning around to view south-eastward yielded a vista of brilliant coast south to McCartney Cay, and the dramatic hues of deep water close to the land. Beyond the shore, humpback whales breeched, while at our feet Turk’s head cacti spit their pink berries onto the ground. An occasional white-tailed tropicbird cruised by, possibly seeking a place to nest in the high seaward ridges, and blue-grey century plants held up ranks of lemon-yellow blossoms like tiered candy dishes.

Reaching new heights
Drum Hill may have been one of the most dramatic peaks I have ever visited, but it is not the highest. In November 2010 my team hiked along the East Caicos donkey railway embankment and walked wide to the south of Cape Comete Hill out onto the rocky inland tidal flats that make up the majority of East Caicos. Heading east through this crumbly, salty pavement of lithified algae and softened but craggy limestone with the occasional puddle of stagnant hypersaline water, eventually in front of us, rising up from just about sea level like an overturned, dented bowl, was Flamingo Hill, the highest peak in the Turks and Caicos Islands.

At 48 metres (157 feet) in height, the effect of this hill is significant because it arises not from a headland, but from the tidal marsh at its feet. Along its base there are patches of rare plants, including Turk’s head cacti and the endemic capillary buttonbush Borreria capillaris. Around the hill’s foot is a wash of crumbly alluvial soil, weathered from its sides by ten thousand years of sparse seasonal rains. In this soil grow contorted trees, twisting their limbs around one another as if circling the mountain’s base in some sort of obstinate protective chain.
Much like Drum Hill, once this “tree line” is passed, the hillside is barren, but shingled in enormous brittle scales of loose cap rock. These scales of rock, held in place only by thin trunks of stunted shrubs suctioning onto the rock, are micro-habitats themselves, festooned with clumps and piles of yellow-flowered woolly nipple cactus Mammillaria nivosa. One wrong step on a scale of this rock, and it will shift and clang loudly against the bare rock of the mountain, and perhaps slide out of position and down the steep slope to the next tiny plant that catches its multi-century descent to the foot of the face. Learning to avoid these sledges of sharp limestone was the key to scaling the hill to its summit.

At the peak, an ancient horse pear cactus Opuntia nashii, found only in the Bahamas and TCI, raised its prickly, red-flower-studded pads above a surprising thicket of giant tongue bromeliad Aechmea lingulata, opening their vase-like leaf centres hopeful to receive cups full of water in the next rains. Outside this thicket, the rock-loving slender orchid Encyclia gracilis, its stout leaves hard and sharp as plastic knives, waved its delicate yellowy blossoms in the breeze. A quick hike along the top of the hill revealed a brilliant green pitch apple tree, which with its broad, thick leaves and pink-porcelain-saucer flowers is always a sign of a cave below. In fact, the tree’s banyan-like roots descended into a vertical shaft eight feet wide and twenty feet deep, like the crater of a volcano. As a colleague and I sat in the shade of this magnificent tree and had lunch on the highest point of the Turks & Caicos Islands (which, regrettably, did not include Kendal’s Mint Cake), we marvelled at the views around the island — Flamingo Pond and the ocean to the north, the next peak to the east, the wide open flooding flats being trotted over by an obviously distraught brown donkey to the south, and Cape Comete Hill framing Jacksonville Creek and the hills of Middle Caicos on the horizon to the west.

On the horizon
These vistas were a benefit of a job we had to do (documenting rare plants on East Caicos), so I didn’t just climb Flamingo Hill “because it is there.” But now that I have ascended to the country’s highest peak (all in all, the climb took about 30 minutes) I want to see what other islands’ peaks are hiding.

I’ve conquered the peaks of Middle Caicos, the Ambergris Cays, South Caicos, Six Hills Cays, and I’ve been to Pine Cay’s “Scenic Overlook,” three metres above sea level. I know what is on the highest point of Grand Turk, because my mom lives there. I’ve even sipped on a Shirley Temple with a past Governor on Parrot Cay’s peak, where the main resort sits. But the majestic heights of other islands call to me now. Richmond Hill in Providenciales (which is sometimes listed as TCI’s highest point, in competition with Flamingo Hill) is on the list. St. James Hill in North Caicos is another I have yet to scale, and the sweeping heights of Taylor Hill on Salt Cay and West Caicos’ complex of low ridges overlooking Lake Catherine are yet unconquered. All of these summits are on the list to punch, and while I doubt I’ll need an intrepid Sherpa or supplementary oxygen to facilitate the excursions, I will at least try to have a Kendal Mint Cake to nibble on when at my next summit.

Why continue climbing to the next summit? Not because it is there . . . but because it is patently not Everest.

If you ask someone to name important events during a particular time frame, not only might they note national milestones (constitution signed, airport opened, hurricane hit), but also events crucial to their community (church broke ground, local roads paved) and, most importantly, to their family (father left to find work in the Bahamas, sister got married, cousin won a track medal). When you look back at the history of a nation, it is made up of just such a compilation of the corporate and the personal.

In the British Commonwealth, 2012 marks Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II’s Diamond Jubilee, commemorating her 60 year reign as queen from February 6, 1952 to the present. Among many celebrations, the Royal Commonwealth Society (RCS) is coordinating the Commonwealth Jubilee Time Capsule. It will include 21,915 days worth of history written by the people of the Commonwealth, one for each day Her Majesty has been head of the association. The plan is for people to enter stories, photos, videos, music, drawings, poems and other creative forms of memory about a day in the last 60 years that is important to them, their family or their country. (See www.jubileetimecapsule.org.)

Queen Elizabeth visited Grand Turk and South Caicos in 1966.

These memories — the untold stories of millions of ordinary and extraordinary lives — will be compiled in a unique, online Time Capsule, with the best entries presented as a gift to Her Majesty on Commonwealth Day, March 12, 2012, and also awarded prizes.

Local private school British West Indies Collegiate (BWIC), the top college preparatory high school in the country, has been chosen as one of 150 Super Schools across the Commonwealth to help RCS commit to reaching the 21,915 days of content as a team. This means that BWIC’s students, parents and friends must make at least 150 contributions, covering any 150 days during Her Majesty’s reign. With this latitude, the school is sure that every person and institution — be it a business, church, youth group, sports team or government agency — should be able to find a significant day that will reflect their contribution to island life.

BWIC Principal Sylvie Wigglesworth is excited over the amazing possibilities this project opens up, “At a time in our history when we need to pull together and help one another through a tough period, this will cause us to remember who we are, where we came from, what we have achieved, and guide us to where we are heading next.” She adds that this will provide a unique opportunity for the people of the TCI — be they Belongers or expatriates — to tell THEIR story, in THEIR own way.

The entries can take the form of a piece of writing (1,000 words maximum), a set of photos with captions, film or audio material (four minutes maximum), newspaper clipping, poster, artwork, poem, musical composition, you name it! It must be dedicated to any aspect of life in the Turks & Caicos Islands between the years of 1952 and 2012. Entries will be submitted to the project electronically, so it will have to be possible to scan or photograph them.

BWIC students will be participating in the Jubilee Time Capsule project.

BWIC students and staff will be working with the community to collect memories until the deadline of January 27, 2012. Besides submitting the entries for the Commonwealth Jubilee Time Capsule, BWIC plans to put all contributions on exhibit in Brayton Hall, turn them over to the Turks & Caicos National Museum for a potential exhibit in the soon-to-be Providenciales branch and, we will regularly feature them in a new Times of the Islands column, “A Day in the Life.” (See examples in this issue.) The Royal Commonwealth Society has also promised prizes for the best entries submitted by the schools.

So, search your memory, talk to your relatives, dig into that drawer or scrapbook. Take out your tape recorder or camera, pull out the paints or crayons. Be creative and let your voice form part of the people’s history of the TCI!

To submit an entry or work with a BWIC student on compiling your entry, contact Sylvie Wigglesworth at 649 941 3333 or email bwicprincipal@tciway.tc.

BWIC would like to acknowledge Mr. Bill Clare for lending precious personal documents to the school, in support of this project.

Formed and operated by the TCI Education Foundation, a charitable organization incorporated in 1993, the British West Indies Collegiate is a private international secondary school whose founding ethos is the provision of education of the highest possible quality for the children of the Turks & Caicos as well as those who reside in the Islands. The school provides an environment that encourages students to achieve to their full potential, both inside and outside the classroom.
In 1998, the Collegiate was accredited as an International Examination Centre by the University of Cambridge in the UK and as a SAT Examination Centre by the American College Board. To date, the Collegiate has a 100% success rate for securing university places for students completing the Advanced Level programme.
Of the students currently registered at the school, approximately 65% are TCI Nationals (Belongers), with the rest comprising a variety of nationalities. The TCI Education Foundation in conjunction with other donors operates a scholarship programme primarily for Belonger students, based on academic merit.
The Collegiate employs teachers with university degrees and postgraduate teaching qualifications, competent in teaching to Advanced Level in their respective subjects.

“When I started creating Photocraphs, I did not conceive that it was art, but I am now told that it is art.”
That’s what Sherlin Williams says about the unique art form displayed on this issue’s cover, above and on the following pages, which he calls “Photocraphs.” Judge for yourself.

Sherlin Williams is the TCI’s first professional photographer, and over the course of 30+ years, he has compiled tens of thousands of photos — both digital and prints — of the country, including those of many buildings, especially in Grand Turk, that no longer exist. As his craft became digitalized, Sherlin went abroad and took courses to become fluid in Photoshop, InDesign and other image and layout-focused programs. As he started experimenting with the tremendous creative possibilities released, he found he could use his life’s massive collection of photos in a new and different way.

Computer artist Sherlin Williams at work.

A unique photocraph of Grand Turk

Photocraph entitled Running Jacks

Marriage on Salt Cay's North Beach

Salt Cay — beautiful, charming, isolated and remote — is reached from Grand Turk by a scheduled ferry three days a week (if the sea isn’t too rough) and by plane via Caicos Express three days a week from Providenciales. It has no hotels and only a few guest houses and villas, a couple of small stores and restaurants and several trucks and buggies for transportation. But it does have one of the most lovely beaches in the world, a small welcoming community of wonderful people where everyone is accepted, and Haidee and Porter Williams — proprietors of Porter’s Island Thyme — with the incredible talents to plan and orchestrate a wedding “in the middle of nowhere”!
Irene and Jonathan first met on Grand Turk. After graduating from college in the United States, Jon worked as a divemaster for Blue Water Divers before returning to the U.S. to attend graduate school. Irene was a frequent visitor to Grand Turk and it was there that Cupid’s arrow hit its mark. Irene’s mother, Lisa Wandres, is an artist who creates beautiful mosaics and spends part of each year on Grand Turk. She bought and restored an historic house on Duke Street in the late 1990s. When Irene and Jonathan were deciding on a location for their wedding, the Turks Islands were a leading candidate.

Salt Cay's venerable White House, fronted by the salinas

The wedding
On Salt Cay’s North Beach at 4:30 in the afternoon, in bright sunshine but with rain clouds visible to the north, the couple exchanged vows and rings, and were pronounced husband and wife. The ceremony was led by the Rev. John Loving, an Episcopal priest from the U.S. who is a family friend of the Dunns and Jonathan’s godfather. The bride was escorted by her mother and her twin brother, Dennis, down an aisle marked by sea grass to a canopy made of driftwood and adorned with flowers. At the bride’s request, the groom played a traditional hymn on his violin accompanied by Gary Stedman on the guitar. Family, friends and Salt Cay residents witnessed the ceremony and joined in a champagne toast afterwards.

The reception

A cocktail reception was held at Island Thyme on Salt Cay.

Grand Turk festivities
On the Wednesday before the wedding, those family and guests who had arrived joined with friends from Grand Turk for a special treat: dinner at the Salt Raker Inn’s Secret Garden restaurant and a reunion of Jonathan with Mitch Rolling and his High Tide Band. Jonathan, or “Jonny” as he’s known on the island, is a fiddler par excellence. The music and dancing set the stage for the celebrations that were to follow.
Similarly, on the Sunday following the ceremony, the wedding party returned from Salt Cay to Grand Turk and dined at the Osprey Beach Hotel. Mitch, Lindsey Butterfield and the groom played as enthusiastically as they had done regularly on many a Sunday night before.

The Salt Cay ferry
Irene and Lisa carefully planned the logistics and timing to see that guests from abroad were guided through the vagaries of inter-island transportation. Though some suffered delays in air travel from the U.S., most arrived on schedule. Transportation to and from Salt Cay came courtesy of the Salt Cay Ferry, captained by Alan “Shine” Dickenson and his son Enrique, who ran special trips to bring everyone to Salt Cay on Friday afternoon and back to Grand Turk on Sunday. Guests participated in one of the quintessential experiences of Salt Cay life: seven miles of open sea in a crowded boat with dolphins and flying fish for entertainment!

Dinner at the White House
Upon arrival on Salt Cay on Friday afternoon, the wedding party and guests made their way to their various accommodations on the island. Before sunset, all came to the White House, where Ian and Louise Dunn, parents of the groom, hosted a welcoming party. The wedding guests and people of Salt Cay were invited to join the family at the ancestral home to share barbecue, peas ’n’ rice and other Salt Cay delicacies prepared by Salt Cay residents Ella Hamilton, Nettie Talbot, Pat Simmons and Eloisa Dickenson.
Some of the local guests had not been inside the White House for many years. Some were last there in the early 1950s when Franklyn Harriott (Natalie Harriott Dunn’s brother) was the last of his generation of Harriotts to call the White House “home.” Timothy Dunn, brother of the groom and resident of Salt Cay and Grand Turk, welcomed the visitors and friends from Salt Cay. He thanked the many people who were responsible for the repair and restoration of the White House and whose work allowed the house to be the site for a party of this magnitude for the first time in 60 years. Tim noted in particular the hard work and great concern of Lionel Talbot, caretaker for many years, and his predecessor, Felix Lightbourne, without whom the building would not have survived the ravages of time. Tim also thanked the people of Salt Cay, whose help and support are of enormous importance to the family’s efforts and interest in Salt Cay.
Three generations of Harriott descendants (Ian Dunn, Jonathan and his brothers, four nieces and nephews) were proud to share the White House with everyone. Throughout the celebrations on Salt Cay, the family felt the spiritual presence of Natalie, who died in 1993, and recognized that this was a fulfillment of her life-long dream.
The evening ended with a bonfire, which blazed at the end of the dock beyond the ruins of the old boat house, which was lost in Hurricane Ike.

Sunday Eucharist and Champagne brunch
On Sunday morning, family and friends joined the newly married couple for the morning service at St. John’s Anglican Church. Father Kendall from Grand Turk was unable to attend, but with his permission the Rev. John Loving celebrated the Eucharist, assisted by Catechist Holton Dickenson, Patricia Simmons, Morris Simmons and Rosie Glinton, the organist. Holton, in his welcoming remarks, recalled his personal memories of the Harriotts who had worshipped there and who had been instrumental in building the church and supporting it over the years. For the first time at St. John’s, the bread and wine for Communion were brought forward by individuals representing three generations of Harriotts (Ian, Tim and Colin Dunn). This practice of presenting the elements during the offertory is a “recent” innovation in the Anglican liturgy — especially when seen in the 150+ year history of St. John’s.
The concluding event for the festivities on Salt Cay was a delicious Champagne brunch at Island Thyme. Porter and Haidee Williams with their incredibly capable staff, including Apol and Lolly, prepared a feast of great variety. All who attended marveled at the quality and scope of the cuisine and entertainment that they had enjoyed on this tiny island.

Said and done
Many of the family and guests stayed for several days following the wedding and a few returned to Salt Cay. Irene and Jonathan left for a brief honeymoon on Providenciales before returning to Charlotte, North Carolina, and the continuation of their life together. All the attendees were impressed by Grand Turk and, especially, by Salt Cay. Those of us who have been coming to these islands for years are amazed at the way in which everything was accomplished. The parties were great! The local music was wonderful! Food and fellowship were extraordinary! The opportunity to share the history of these islands in the celebration of a special occasion for two beloved people was appreciated by all.
Perhaps this wedding on Salt Cay will be the start of a trend . . . but until that happens, Irene and Jonathan can stake their claim to the “Salt Cay Wedding of the Century.”

Middle Caicos is the largest island in the Turks & Caicos Islands, but its real claim to fame is the living heritage of its elders. The majority of the population is over 60 years old, and lived on the island many years before the “modern world” arrived. (For example, electricity only came to Middle Caicos in the late 1980s.) These elders still possess skills which have almost vanished elsewhere. Farming, fishing, sloop building, handicrafts and bush medicine are still living crafts, essential to survival in times past — but this wealth of experience and knowledge now needs to be shared and preserved.

Alton Higgs of Middle Caicos

Deacon Alton Higgs of Middle Caicos

Alton Higgs' messages

Alton Higgs Middle Caicos recycler

Siri Tunaal White is Norwegian and has lived in eight other countries before settling in Providenciales. She first visited Middle Caicos in 2001, when she began an ongoing project to record the dignity and culture of Middle Caicos’ wise and resourceful elder citizens, who present a lifestyle almost untouched by the modern world.
Her photos are taken with a simple Hasselblad camera using only black and white film, which Siri develops and prints in her home darkroom — a totally manual process.
Siri has held several exhibitions and helps produce an annual calendar featuring Middle Caicos’ 300 residents and cultural events, but for this article, she focused on Mr. Alton Higgs, who she feels should be declared a “living national treasure.” For more information on Siri’s artwork, visit www.siriwhite.com.
Sara J. Kaufman moved to TCI in 1994 and settled on Middle Caicos. With various partners, friends and sponsors over the years she developed the Blue Horizon Resort, managed the Crossing Place Trail project, and started the Middle Caicos Co-op. In 1998 she met Daniel O. Forbes from Bambarra at the dance to open the trail, and they have since started Daniels Café and Forbes, Forbes & Forbes Ltd. realty brokerage.
Sara loves to write and research (a remnant of her former life as an international management consultant) and is dedicated to the emergence of a sustainable ecotourism economy for North and Middle Caicos. For further information and/or Middle Caicos newsletter subscriptions, email middlecaicos@tciway.tc.

By Kathy Borsuk ~ Photos By Claire Parrish

Readers of this magazine will know that our goal in “Sampling the Soul of the Turks & Caicos Islands” is to encourage visitors and residents to look beyond TCI’s sun, sand and sea and dig into the intriguing natural wonders, history and culture that lie beneath the surface. This definition of eco-tourism is shared by local tour operator Big Blue Unlimited, who, a decade before it was fashionable, focused on activities and trips that highlighted sensitivity to the environment and island culture, and involved local people in all aspects of the experience. Among the dozen-plus adventures on call, their signature “Heart of the Islands” day-long trip to North and Middle Caicos is a satisfying blend of exploration, education and relaxation that embodies the philosophies of ecotourism like no other.

Claire Parrish, our advertising manager cum photographer, and I arrived at the Big Blue office/dock bright and early on a late January morning. The sun cast its pearly winter glow over the mangroves bordering Leeward-Going-Through channel, as we tried to wish away the massive floating yacht docks that marred the view. (More on this later . . . )
Big Blue maintains a large, friendly staff led by owners Philip Shearer and Mark Parrish and things bustle as dive, snorkel, kayak, paddleboard or boat trips gear up and depart. Our guide was Kew, North Caicos native Demitri Lightbourne, whose big smile, attentive demeanor and wealth of knowledge never faltered over the 9+ hours we spent with him. Our group of eight, a typically small size for Big Blue trips, surprisingly included several Club Med holiday-makers who were eager to sample life outside of the gates. Also along were a couple returning from a volunteer medical aid trip to Haiti.
Out the channel over aqua sea we flew in the comfortable 32 foot, dual engine Starfish, rounding the corner of Little Water Cay, now a sanctuary for TCI’s indigenous Rock Iquana. Our first snorkeling stop was just off a natural cut in the reef, and a storm surge lingering from the previous day had foam-capped rollers sweeping towards shore. An intrepid group of four jumped in and I marveled at both the bravery of a first-time snorkeler and the care with which Demitri helped her and the others feel comfortable in the light chop. This area is known for swim-throughs and crevices replete with lobster, grouper, parrotfish and schooling snappers, along with the occasional spotted eagle ray and turtle.
With all safely in the boat and accounted for, we cut a path along the brilliant white beaches of Water Cay and Pine Cay, here bordered by smooth, weathered limestone outcroppings. The second snorkeling stop was in shallower water off Fort George Cay (the site of a former British military base to defend the Loyalist plantation families over 200 years ago). Here, the group finned over colorful fan, brain and staghorn corals, carefully following Demitri’s reef etiquette tips to avoid kicking or bumping into the fragile formations.
Thoroughly enchanted and refreshed, everyone dried off as the boat motored along Dellis Cay (past the skeletons of another now-defunct luxury development) and the celebrity outpost of Parrot Cay. A sharp turn into the channel and we arrived at Sandy Point Marina, the marine gateway into North Caicos and home of the soon-come North Caicos Yacht Club. Meeting us with a kind greeting and his air-conditioned taxi van was Cardinal Arthur, a Middle Caicos legend for his knowledge of the island. (Big Blue also has a long term working relationship with North Caicos resident and guide Mac Campbell. Mac, similarly charismatic, also serves as a guide for the “Heart of the Islands” eco-tour.)
As we drove through Sandy Point (population 30!) we learned that at 44 square miles, North Caicos is the second largest in the island chain. It was immediately apparent that North is much lusher than Provo, with fertile soil and abundant rainfall. (The air even smells verdant and rich here.) We could see the typical backyard gardens, prepared by cutting and burning the “bush” to make space for random plantings of corn, sweet potatoes, beans, cassava, pigeon peas and cabbages, with larger fruit trees such as banana, mango, custard apple, sapodilla, papaya and sugar cane scattered about. Demitri explained that the bulk of the harvest fed the farmers’ family and friends, with some sold locally, but little making its way to Provo.
Although iguanas are the largest native land animals in the Islands, they haven’t been eaten since Demitri’s grandparent’s time (“tastes like chicken”), along with the occasional flamingo (I wouldn’t want a leg!). With both species protected, these days residents raise pigs, goats and chickens to round out a home-grown meal. We also heard the distinctive “turkey gobble” of the large Cuban crow, found, appropriately, only in Cuba and the Caicos Islands.
As we drove along the smooth pavement of TCI’s longest road, we noted the unlikelihood of rush hour or traffic jams with North Caicos’ population of only 2,000 souls and very few cars. In fact, our next stop, the settlement of Kew (named after England’s Kew Gardens) is home to only 250. Nevertheless, its charming “downtown” held a school, community center, library and post office, along with the police station for North’s four officers. When asked if crime was a problem, Demitri explained that, since “everyone family,” most quarrels blew over quickly and police were on hand simply to keep the peace.

Wade's Green Field Road

Cardinal Arthur with sisal plant

Wade's Green Plantation in North Caicos

Old graffiti in Conch Bar Caves

Beach at Mudjin Harbour, Middle Caicos

To learn more about Big Blue Unlimited, visit www.bigblueunlimited.com.

Story & Photos By Margot Maddison-MacFadyen

Bermudian-born Mary Prince is the earliest known freed black woman writer from the West Indies. Born in Bermuda in 1788, she was a member of that generation of enslaved West Indians living through first, the abolishment of the transatlantic trade in enslaved Africans by British Parliament in 1807 and secondly, the emancipation of all slaves living in British Colonies, an Act that became law on August 1, 1834.
Her now-famous narrative, The History of Mary Prince, a West Indian Slave, Related by Herself, which was first published in London in 1831, was a best seller going to print three times in that year. It contributed to the on-going parliamentary debate on abolition—as did an 1829 parliamentary petition for her to be deemed free should she return to the West Indies.
In her History, Prince documents her struggle to survive the brutalities of five successive slave owners in three different British territories, Bermuda, Turks Island and Antigua, plus England. Much of what we know of Prince comes from this book or has been reconstructed from archives and additional historic facts—yet there are major pieces of the Prince story still missing.

Sandbox Tree at time of Emancipation

Sandbox Tree in 2010

Although it is still uncertain where and when Prince passed away, half of the 45 years of her life of which we are aware were spent either in Turks Island or in Antigua. In her History, she writes that “about” ten were spent on Turks Island with her fourth slave owner Mr. D—, Robert Darrell, a Turks Island salt proprietor from Bermuda. More may be read about these years of hardship in the article, “Toiling in the Salt Ponds: The Grand Turk years of Mary Prince,” which appeared in this magazine’s Fall 2008 issue. Thirteen years were with her fifth and final slave owner John Adams Wood Jr., an Antiguan merchant with Bermudian and Turks Island connections, and his wife Margaret Gilbert Wood (nee Albouy).
One of the puzzles surrounding Prince has been dating her movements between owners and territories. Environmental catastrophes mentioned in her narrative are clues, which, when followed with archival explorations, situate her in certain places in specific years. For instance, she mentions a “dreadful earthquake” while living in Bermuda with her third slave owner, Captain I—, John Ingham, and this is verified in the Bermudian Royal Gazette as occurring at 9:10 the morning of February 19, 1801.
Similarly, she mentions a “flood” hitting Turks Island after she has left that place for Bermuda that was so powerful it, “washed away many houses, filled the place with sand, and overflowed the ponds.” This must be the documented hurricane of 1813. We can conclude, therefore, that the ten years she reports working in the salt ponds of Turks Island must be the approximate years 1802 – 1812.
Another mystery to solve, which would similarly situate Prince in a timeline of events, was to find her listed in the Slave Registers of Former British Overseas Territories. Although historians of the past have searched the Registers with the hope to find her, their endeavours have been unsuccessful. However, the Internet and its powerful search engines make today’s searches relatively easy and improve results—if the historian knows what name to look for.
Mary Prince went by several names. Her father, Prince, was owned by the Trimmingham family of Crow Lane, Bermuda, but that family did not see fit to give their surname to their slaves, actually paying them at Emancipation not to take Trimmingham as their own. Therefore, where she might have been Mary Trimmingham, she was not given this appellation.
At Christmas, 1826, and when in Antigua, Prince married Daniel James, a free black man. She took his surname and was, thereafter, sometimes known as Mary James. However, Wood, her owner at the time, and his wife, objected vehemently to the marriage, and insisted on calling her Molly Wood, sometimes referring to her contemptuously as Molly, Princess of Wales.
In the Slave Registers for Antigua, Wood entered her name as Molly in the years 1817, 1821 and 1824. He also listed his other slaves, as well as their sales and purchases. Prince’s complaint that Mrs. Wood sold five other slaves while she was with them, all the while refusing to sell her, is verified in these documents. During this time three men offered to purchase Prince—each with the view that they would then manumit her—Adam White, a free black artisan, Mr. Burchell, and Captain Abbot, but they were all turned down.
When the Woods “went from their home,” presumably to travel within the Island or abroad—as Prince recalls they often did—she was put in charge of household affairs, and it was during these times that she was able to perform additional work outside the home to earn and save money for her manumission. She took in extra washing, sold coffee, yams and other provisions to ship captains, or bought pigs from ships and sold them for double the amount on shore. Yet, when she asked the Woods to sell her, her freedom Mrs. Wood called her a “black devil” and “asked [her] who had put freedom into [her] head.”
Prince’s earliest listing in the Slave Registers places her in Antigua in 1817, and this concurs with the statement she made in her History when she was dictating it to her amanuensis Suzanna Strickland in 1829—that she had lived with the Wood family for 13 years. Since she approached the Anti-Slavery Office in London in November of 1828, after having been gone from the Wood residence in London for only a few months, she would have been sold by Robert Darrell to John Adams Wood in 1815.
The 13 years she spent with the Woods in Antigua were also her introduction to and subsequent growth in organized Christian religion. Almost half of the Antiguan recollections in her History are devoted to her religious experiences. It is true that the editor of her History, Thomas Pringle, who was the secretary of the Anti-Slavery Society in England, would have encouraged Prince to present religion as a culminating force in her life since the purpose of its publication was to attract a white Christian audience to the anti-slavery cause. Although the theme of religious conversion to Christianity is part and parcel of virtually all slave narratives, could it not be that Prince was truly inspired by Christian teachings and that this is where she got the idea of freedom eschewed so aggressively by Mrs. Wood?
Her introduction to religion was at Christmas in an unknown year at a Methodist meeting held at Winthorps Plantation. The Wood family was at nearby Date Hill for a “change of air” and, whilst there, a slave woman who had care of the place asked her to go to her husband’s house for prayers. For Prince, they were the first prayers she had ever understood and they left a strong impression on her mind. When she returned to St. John’s, she went to the Moravian Church and had her name entered in the Missionaries’ book.
The Reverend Mr. Curtin of the Anglican Church had baptized her before this in August 1817, but he would not allow her to attend Sunday School without the consent of her owner, Wood. She never asked for this consent, knowing that she would be turned down. Similarly, knowing that her attendance at the Moravian Church would also be disallowed, she did not tell the Woods of her membership but found opportunities to attend without their knowledge. Whenever she took the Wood children their lunches at school, she would go by the church to hear the teachers.
The Moravian missionaries, Mrs. Richter, Mrs. Olufson and Mrs. Sauter, taught her how to read and “spell” (write), and they read the Bible. She reports that there were all sorts of people in the class—“old and young, grey-headed folks and children, but [that] most of them were free.”
The Moravian church allied her with other slaves, free black people and with white people who believed in equality. Her family long lost to her, the congregation would have taken its place. Perhaps this is why when Daniel James suggested marriage, she would not agree to it until he had gone to church with her and joined the Moravians. This opportunity for connection with others not only gave her a new place in society, but it taught her of freedom and was the seed of her work as an abolitionist in days to come when she would be in London working with the Anti-Slavery Society.
The Moravian Mission in Antigua to which Prince had applied for membership had been established in 1756 by the Yorkshire missionary Samuel Isles (1723 – 1764) and his wife Molly and was, therefore, nearing its 70-year anniversary when Prince made application. The Sandbox Tree under which he and later missionaries would teach their students still graces the grounds of the current Spring Garden Moravian Church in St. John’s which has replaced the older buildings that had sprung up around the tree.
Undoubtedly, Mary Prince would have sat under this same tree with her Moravian friends on many a day. Though any vestiges of the Wood residences in Antigua are long gone, the Sandbox Tree remains as a symbol of enlightenment, growth and empowerment.
Mary Prince gave up much when she willingly accompanied the Woods to London in 1828. She thought that once there, she would be freed and that she would soon return to Antigua, but this was a “false report.” More than likely, she was taken away from Antigua to separate her from her husband and the Moravian congregation. Nonetheless, with the help of the Moravians at Hatton Garden, London, she seized the opportunity that presented itself, and, in a spectacular self-emancipatory act, walked into the streets of London a free woman, at last.
Clearly, the Moravian Mission in Antigua played a large role in the development and eventual freedom of Mary Prince. A better understanding of the advantage it afforded her may be the next step in the Prince scholarship.

Head of English for a number of years at British West Indies Collegiate on Providenciales, Margot Maddison-MacFadyen currently resides in Canada’s smallest province, Prince Edward Island. A PhD candidate in Interdisciplinary Studies at the Memorial University of Newfoundland, she found the chrysalis of her project, Remembering Mary Prince, whilst living in the Turks & Caicos Islands. Essentially, she is interested in reclaiming local histories of the maritime Atlantic as they pertain to enslavement and emancipation.

By Catherine M. Cameron, Cedar Crest College and John B. Gatewood, Lehigh University

“Belongers” is the term given to Turks & Caicos Islands citizens, most of whom are descendants of the African slaves brought to the country in the 1600 and 1700s by Bermudian salt rakers and British Loyalists to work the salt ponds and cotton plantations, respectively. Anyone who has spent time in conversation with one of the 9,000 “natives” knows that they tend towards strong views about their beloved country.
What do Belongers think about the annual influx of nearly 300,000 visitors to the Turks & Caicos Islands? This is the intriguing question we wanted to answer in research conducted during the summers of 2006 and 2007. Funded by the National Science Foundation, this was the first full-scale survey about how Turks & Caicos Islanders view tourism and its impacts on their lives and country.

In the field of tourism studies, research typically focuses either on the flows of tourism dollars through a local economy or on the motivations and preferences of the tourists themselves. Surprisingly few studies have been done to assess how local residents feel about the influx of tourists and the consequences of tourism on their lives. This is unfortunate since, as many tourist destinations have learned, the support of local people is essential in making a tourism program successful for the long term.

TCI visitors are drawn to pristine Grace Bay Beach

What does tourism bring to mind?
We begin with a basic question. Who were these 277 randomly selected Belongers residing on six of the Islands we surveyed? Most (85%) were “born Belongers;” the rest were naturalized. There were more female than male respondents (58% compared to 41% male). In terms of background, half were married, and half were single, divorced, or widowed. They had an average of 2.75 children. About half were 40 years or older; the rest were late teens to their thirties. About a third of the group worked in a tourism-related field although this figure was higher for family and friends.
It comes as no surprise that Turks & Caicos Islanders are great travelers: over 90% said they travel abroad at least once a year. The most frequently cited destination is Florida or other parts of the US, followed by other Caribbean islands, Canada, the UK, and Europe. Though cosmopolitan, Belongers indicate they have great attachment to Turks & Caicos and close to two-thirds said they knew a great deal about island history and culture. Is tourism on people’s minds? The survey suggests it is a hot topic. People said they get most their news and information from the media: newspapers, TV, and radio.
Do Belongers feel they derive a great deal of financial benefit from tourism? Surprisingly, only 28% of the sample said they do, personally. People attributed more benefit to others — about a third said others profited more than they did. This number grew when they answered for their own island of residence and the country as a whole.
Though many people (86%) live near tourism areas, a factor that other researchers say may prompt people to dislike tourism and tourists, Belongers rate their encounters with tourists fairly positively, finding them friendly and polite and generally interested in the people and the local culture. Though many tourists expect first class treatment, residents generally say visitors tend to respect local rules and customs. The top five celebrity tourists named were Michael Jordan, Bruce Willis, Shaquille O’Neal, Will Smith, and Oprah Winfrey. Local residents believe that tourists are drawn to Turks & Caicos by a combination of factors — the unspoiled beaches and water sports, the friendliness of the local people, a low crime rate, along with the laid-back lifestyle of the Islanders.

Attitudes about economic impacts
Belongers overwhelmingly feel that tourism has been good for Turks & Caicos. It is seen as the “engine” of the economy and necessary for the country, although not without some criticisms. There is very strong agreement that the standard of living has gone up (86% agree) and that there is now a much greater choice of goods and services. Slightly fewer agree that there are better public services (59%) and more scholarships for study abroad (57%).
There is, also, a strong consensus (75%) that the government needs to diversify the country’s economic foundation, even though many people (54%) agree that tourism is the main means to develop the economy. Again, there is strong agreement (86%) that each island should try to develop something different from the others. Many people see the advantage of developing heritage attractions for the tourist market: 83% agree that private business and public agencies should develop more of these kinds of amenities.
People tend to agree that development has led to the creation of a greater variety of jobs, particularly those in the tourism sector (66%). There is less agreement that these jobs are evenly spread out across the Islands, confirming general comments we heard that people have to migrate to Providenciales or Grand Turk for work. While people do see opportunities in tourism work, many indicate that Belongers still prefer the security of government jobs or work in the private sector.
There is a split on whether tourism work is perceived as well-paying: over a third think it is, a third doesn’t, and the rest are in the neutral camp. A charge that is often made in the tourism literature is that tourism work is likened to being a servant. Although many people see tourism work as a kind of “game” you play, close to 50% do not view it as being servant-like. Obviously, this has ramifications for tourism education.
In a more critical take on tourism work, people voiced some concerns about opportunities. As for the ease of getting loans for business start-ups, there is a split: 45% say they can get loans without too much trouble, while over a third say it is difficult to get loans. Over half the sample feels that foreign applicants get preference for tourism jobs, and a third feel that local people are not treated fairly in their applications. There seems to be some ambivalence about who benefits from tourism: there is fairly strong agreement that only some benefit (about 60% say this) and that not everyone is getting a piece of the tourism pie (64% agree). Many people see some problems of being included in the benefits of tourism.
In the first year’s interviews, we often heard comments about how quickly the country was changing and how difficult it was for many people to adapt to this change. The survey results confirmed this view to some extent: 44% of the sample feels that the country is changing too quickly. Signaling some distress, there is significant agreement (58%) that people think that tourism has not been growing in a regulated way, and there is strong consensus that too many outside workers have entered the country (about 73% agree) such that the population growth is straining the local school system. These results show that many people feel that development is out-pacing their ability to adapt and keep up. This is something to be taken seriously by officials.
People’s optimism on many topics comes through, but is tempered by doubts and fears. People feel that tourism is an essential mode of development for the country, now and into the future, and many see that it will result in an improved future for Belongers. Most people see no limits to further tourism development and think it is sustainable, but more than a third think that tourism is at a cross-road where things may go wrong. Furthermore, 58% see tourism as a fragile industry possibly ruined by small effects.

Attitudes about social impacts
Echoing what was heard in the long interviews in 2006, respondents agree that tourism has broadened the outlook of local people and put the country on the world map. Previously, we had heard that Islanders living abroad are pleased that they less frequently have to explain where Turks & Caicos is. About three quarters of the sample credit tourism and development for allowing Belongers to live and work in the country whereas, until recently, many would have had to migrate for work. They also credit tourism’s effect in improving public services (police and medical). However, 42% say they feel somewhat restricted now in the places they can go for work or fun.
In the first year, we often heard that some people were very concerned about the effect of tourists and outside workers on local people’s social and moral values and community bonds. Some felt that people were becoming more materialistic, greedy, and less connected with others. Often, American TV was blamed more than the effect of tourism. But, in the survey, there is some ambivalence about whether tourism is having significantly negative social effects, and there no strong evidence that people feel that tourism is breaking down community ties. Around half of the sample disagree that the tourism industry is responsible for making people more selfish and greedy, making them less caring, and breaking down people’s sense of community. Though many stayed in the “neutral camp” on this point, it should be said that anywhere from 22% to 33% are concerned about tourism’s effect on social and community relations.
The newspapers report on social pathologies such as drug use, crime, and family violence. People in our sample are of two minds about associating tourism with drug use, increased alcoholism and family violence, and bad morals. A large segment (42%) links tourism and drug use, but 47% do not think that it has impacted social problems such as alcoholism, violence, and divorce. There are those, however, who think tourism has contributed to worsening social problems. A third or less agrees that tourism has negatively affected the morals of most people. Of great concern is the crime rate and illegal immigration: 44% of the sample thinks that tourism is impacting the crime rate and 54% think tourism is responsible for the increase in illegal immigration.
Optimistically, some people (44%) feel that tourism may revive native culture and people’s sense of group identity (54%). Yet, a quarter of the sample is concerned that Belonger culture will disappear and that people will lose their island identity. This concern is something to watch.

Attitudes about environmental impacts
Polly Patullo’s book, Last Resorts, is an indictment of the environmental and social effects of tourism in the Caribbean. She reviews the policies and practices that have led to serious impacts on the islands of the region, noting that when the reefs are dead, the water fouled, and the marine life depleted, the tourists pick up and go elsewhere. She emphasizes how important it is for countries to develop a good sustainable tourism policy. With her book in mind, we wondered how Belongers would assess the environmental impact of the new tourism industry on the physical place.
With respect to environmental impacts, Belongers see a number of positive outcomes. They think the growth of tourism has led to more preservation of historic sites and buildings, better maintenance of roads and public places, and better conservation practices, with slightly fewer agreeing that there are more laws against building in protected areas. Many also believe that tourism has prompted greater interest in the natural environment. In part, this is explained by the very good educational programs of the DECR, numerous articles in Times of the Islands on flora, fauna, and conservation practices, and, very simply, by the admiration that tourists have for the Islands.
The perceived downside of tourism growth is increased traffic and congestion, resort construction in delicate areas, and more problems with garbage and pollution, although equal numbers think there is better management of waste and pollution. While reports show that tourism has degraded reefs and beaches to some extent, half the sample does not see this as a problem. With respect to people’s health and the change in diet in recent years, about 41% think that this has improved even though people are eating less of the Islands’ traditional diet.
In another section of the questionnaire, we asked other questions about environmental effects. Over half of the sample feel that there needs to be legislative controls of coastal areas development projects such as marinas, reef cuts, cruise terminals, canals, and resorts and that same percentage feel there are not enough controls at the moment. Almost equal numbers disagree on whether there looms the potential for a future environmental crisis of some sort: 35% think this is unlikely, while 33% think it is and the rest are neutral. But, general optimism seems to prevail for 61% agree there is the potential for better environmental conservation practices for the future.

Looking back, looking ahead
We decided another way to get at people’s understanding of tourism’s impacts was to ask them to compare things as they were a decade ago with now, then to look ahead and imagine life in ten years as compared to now. When Belongers compare and evaluate various factors concerning quality of life and community issues between today and ten years ago, the general perception is that, with one exception (social problems), life is much better. For the most part, the sample agrees that many things have improved in the past decade and are cheerily optimistic that this will continue to be the case ten years hence. These responses mirror many of the positive responses seen earlier in the “impacts” section.
What is specifically better today than ten years ago? Belongers say that most things are better, especially with respect to the (a) standard of living; (b) educational and job opportunities; (c) ease of travel; and, (d) overall quality of life. Although still weighing in on the “better” side, there is slightly less agreement about entertaining things to do, pride in country, sense of community, spiritual/moral values, and public health. The one factor that is perceived as worse now than in the past is in the area of social problems: 60% of the sample feel that crime, drug use, and domestic violence is worse now that it was ten years ago. This shows agreement with a figure mentioned before, but is even higher.
What do Belongers feel about the future? The trend of perceived improvement in quality of life and community continues when people report on how they feel about things in ten years. In addition to the improvements noted before, they say they expect improvements in entertainment, pride in country, public health, sense of community, and spiritual/moral values. However, the respondents do remain concerned about social problems: 52% expect things to worsen, while 32% think social problems may actually improve. The others expect no change.

Key findings and recommendations
Looking at the survey as a whole and not just responses to particular questions, the key findings survey can be summarized as follows.
• As of 2007, Belongers are generally positive about tourism and the impacts it is having on their lives, and they have a generally positive view of the tourists who visit their country.
• Belongers perceive some downsides to tourism, such as rising costs, increased crime, an influx of immigrant workers, and unevenness with respect to the distribution of financial benefits from tourism.
• Belongers want more tourism, and especially more historic/cultural tourism.
• Belongers show a high degree of altruism with respect to tourism. Most do not receive much direct financial benefit, but they are just as positive about tourism as those who are benefitting directly.
• Demographic-behavioural variables account for little of the variations in Belonger attitudes toward tourism. The exception is island of residence. Residents of the former salt-producing islands (South Caicos, Grand Turk, Salt Cay) tend to be more positive about tourism, generally, than residents of the other islands (Providenciales, North Caicos, Middle Caicos).
• Although there is a statistical convergence of opinions with respect to many topics, there are also systematically different perspectives (sub-cultural viewpoints) with respect to other aspects of tourism.
• The range of overall assessments regarding tourism is truncated, extending from extremely positive to only mildly negative. There are no genuinely negative assessments.
Based on the survey’s findings, we recommend the following actions as a means to maintaining and nourishing the tourism industry in the Turks & Caicos Islands into the future.
• Keep tourism within environmentally sustainable limits.
• Develop suitable tourism products for each island, especially more historic/cultural sites and attractions.
• Facilitate Belonger participation in the new tourism economy by providing additional tourism education, training, and outreach activities; keeping Belongers informed of and involved in tourism planning; and taking steps to ensure that tourism revenues are more equitably distributed.
• Continue to monitor, on a regular basis, Belonger attitudes toward tourism.

Lehigh University tourism study survey team

By Sara J. Kaufman, Manager, Forbes, Forbes & Forbes Ltd.

Middle Caicos (historically known as Grand Caicos) is the largest of the Turks & Caicos Islands, with over 50 square miles of natural wilderness to explore and enjoy. It is also the least visited and known island in TCI, despite famous sites like Conch Bar Caves National Park, Mudjin Harbour and the Crossing Place Trail.
Isolated for years with rough sea passage from east or west and limited flights, Middle Caicos is blossoming with the new causeway to North Caicos (damaged but drivable indeed!) and regular ferries to Provo daily. The population of under 300 residents is skewed with a remarkable group of elders, all 70 to 100 years old, making up 40% of the population. The spacious landscape, warm people, defined villages and living respect for TCI traditional culture make Middle Caicos a very special place.

Cliff-lined seascape at Mudjin Harbour on Middle Caicos

Nearly 50% of Middle Caicos is dedicated to the International Ramsar Biodiversity Wetland Reserve, a major treaty-preserved site dedicated to protection of habitat for the local flora and fauna. While the reserve literally covers 90% of the south side of the island, the commitment to wildlife and the unspoiled nature of Middle Caicos is, logically, a critical development goal across the entire island. Here is the heartland of TCI culture, including traditional straw craft, fanner grass basketry, native sloop building, model sailboat carving/racing and bush medicine. The importance of ecotourism, rather than mainstream tourism, will be crucial to the sustainable development of Middle Caicos.
In general terms, real estate on Middle Caicos was very slow in both sales and price movement during the 1990s, with perhaps one or two sales per year across the whole of the island. Property started moving a bit faster in 2000–2005, predominantly with local resort Blue Horizon moving forward, and Bambarra beachfront lots bought and sold. The island hit its realty boom stride in 2006/2007 with three new development areas, two developments sold directly on Internet, over 20 individual MLS listings and numerous private offers. Also during this time, a number of government development agreements were put into place with great fanfare, yet minimal activity has been undertaken to date. By 2007, prices had spiraled upwards, well beyond rational market value, but buyers piled on board — one acre beachfront lots on Middle Caicos sold for $425,000. in 2007! Then, along with the rest of the real estate world in 2008/2009/2010, property sales crashed and prices now rest at roughly 2005 levels. During 2009 and 2010, only three lots have sold on Middle Caicos.
Remember that very limited infrastructure is in place on Middle Caicos. Water is supplied by rain collected in cisterns, locally called “tanks,” and if it doesn’t rain for a long spell, tanks run dry! With a stable population of under 300 people, the economics of a water plant and delivery service are not good. The same applies for small trades — plumbing, electrical, masonry, mechanics — such that all tradesmen are brought to Middle Caicos when needed. Since 2000, less than ten buildings have been constructed here; building costs are high and logistics difficult, although roll on/roll off capacity for trailers and containers from North Caicos has made life easier.

View of flamingos from causeway connecting North and Middle Caicos

The island can be divided into three regions centralized around the local villages: Conch Bar (Western Region), Bambarra (Central Region) and Lorimers (Eastern Region). Each is very distinct.

Western Region: The west of the island is the most populous and developed, with 180 residents in Conch Bar, nine buildings at the Blue Horizon Resort on Mudjin Harbour just before the village, the now defunct airport, the Doris Robinson Primary School with 33 students, and the ghastly, ghostly shell of an enormous government building stalled in naked cement splendor. This western region also boasts glorious cliffs, and the Crossing Place Trail takes you along them from Conch Bar to Juniper Hole, past seven empty beaches, to reach the channel between Middle and North. Local homes have been upgraded in the village, a new government subdivision encouraged young families to make their home and new homes were built at Blue Horizon Resort. The Juniper Holdings land scandal has hit Middle Caicos residents hard, but the sense of betrayal has focused clear determination to see all the land restored to the Crown. Anyone who visits knows that Middle Caicos is never the place for a luxury golf course or millionaires’ retreat . . . but bring on the eco-tourism! Both at the resort and in Conch Bar village, properties are currently for sale at quite sensible prices.

Central Region: Central Middle Caicos is an open expanse of green bushland, with a splendid coastal road and ridges marching away to the south. Bambarra has become synonymous with beach, and Bambarra Beach is a very fine one, with over four miles of gently curving shoreline, whispering casuarinas and no people. While many lots have been subdivided along the shore, only 10 villas have been built to date. The gorgeous public beach facility sits nestled under the pines, fronting a sand spit where you can walk to a tiny offshore cay. With tiki huts, bandstand, shade, latrines and lots of parking, this is one of TCI’s best public beach areas and a strong pier was constructed for local boats nearby. This area is home to the annual Valentine’s Day Cup, where each year traditional hand-carved model sailboats race all day, while families play.
Some development of lots off the beach is underway and it is likely more homes will come along in this area soon. Paved road, neighbors, power nearby, beach a stone’s throw away, and once the public beach access lanes are defined it will be a prize neighborhood. The village of Bambarra is on the ridge overlooking the bay, with about 13 homes, fabulous views and fresh breezes. If you are ready to take on an unfinished building, this is your place — with 3 such homes for sale! Much of this region is tied up as generational land, and the struggle to effectively sort out the heirs and equal inheritances from these huge parcels of land is not for the faint hearted.

Eastern Region: Drive on and on, until Lorimers emerges, a tiny village tucked beside the enormous lagoon on the east of the island. Amazingly, in the early 1900s Lorimers was the heart of TCI, while the tall ships still plied the tradewinds with cargos of sisal from East Caicos. Over 75 homes are to be found hiding in the greenery, with just six families now living in the village. Fruit trees grow tall here, and farming is a passion. Just before the village a road breaks left to follow for another ten miles and reach the channel between Middle and East Caicos. It takes you out again to the coast, through the massive Haulover Plantation to Half Creek — where a major development has been bespoken for 12 years with nothing yet! Follow the right- hand turn and the power poles to reach the government subdivision of over 300 lots which continues to the end of the island.

Major issues with valuations, planning of public beach areas, method of parcel allocation and potential generational claim make this an area not soon to bloom. Eastwinds and Caicos Holdings are private developments along this peninsula, Crown land purchased in chunks and being resold, with no homes built to date. Both undertook little activity at their property sites this past few years, in sales or infrastructure. There is a vast tract of generational land (500 acres) offered for sale, beachfront lots and some backland for farming here.

My 16 years on Middle Caicos have flown by, and while change is evident, it is the enduring flavor of this giant island that remains calm, dignified and peaceful. May the future development that must inevitably come — albeit slowly — keep these values intact. Middle Caicos appeals to those looking for the remote, the simple and the quiet. It is an island where the difficult logistics and everyday inconveniences can drive you mad . . . and then the breeze blows your head clear and the turquoise sea takes your breath away. It is an island where long term goals make sense, to preserve an oasis of beauty and sanity for yourself, for your family.

Investment in speculation here is awkward and again, only for the long term buyer. At this point, properties are available to suit every taste — from isolated splendor to full convenience, property management on site. For the handyman, several unfinished homes offer fabulous starters, and friendships in the villages. It is an amazing buyer’s market, so do it now!

Please contact us with questions or for further information via e-mail forbesrealty@tciway.tc and call 649 231 4884.

Sara J. Kaufman is manager of Forbes, Forbes & Forbes Ltd. realty brokerage. She moved to Middle Caicos in 1995, and to this day is in love with this island and its people. In 1995, she developed the Blue Horizon Resort with partners, then met Daniel Forbes in 1998 and her heart “came home.” Together they started the Middle Caicos Co-op with friends, opened the Crossing Place Trail and began cooking up a storm at Daniel’s Café. In 2005 they opened the doors of Forbes, Forbes & Forbes Ltd. By 2008 they started building a home in Conch Bar and finished a new office and café buildings. In 2009 they built the MC Co-op shop and finally moved into their spectacular seaside home.

It’s dawn and my wife of two days is fast asleep. I’m not with her. She is alone on the first morning of our honeymoon. Instead of waking together to palms rustling outside our villa’s bedroom window, I rose in the tropical November darkness to the same obnoxious cell phone alarm I set for work back home in New Jersey. Christen stirred for a moment, opened her eyes as I kissed her forehead, and drifted off again. My wife of two days is fast asleep and I am standing calf-deep in the warm muck of Flamingo Lake on the south side of Providenciales, holding a fly rod and straining to spot rippled water in the early gray light. I have ten days to catch a bonefish on this island. You might think I could spend the first morning with my bride. But I am a very sick man.

To put my disease in perspective, at our wedding reception, our beautifully decorated cake was shoved to the corner so a giant ice sculpture of a striped bass could be prominently displayed near the dance floor. Our tables were named after various gamefish. My most cherished gift was a custom-made fishing lure inscribed with our names and wedding date. Christen took this all in stride, having known me for seven years and being fully aware that fishing is my heroin. If I go a weekend without it, I curl up in a ball, shake, and whine. It’s in no small way the reason I pursued a career in outdoor journalism, and in no small way why we overlooked the palace resorts of Grace Bay for Barry and Marta Morton’s secluded Harbour Club Villas for our Providenciales honeymoon. A coworker told me I could walk out the door and onto the bonefish flats of the adjacent salt lakes at Harbour Club. It was all I needed to hear.

Ghost hunting
Bonefish are nicknamed “gray ghosts” because their soft silver and white hues blend with the sand and mud on the flats so well, they are practically invisible, especially to the untrained eye. It is a good time to mention that though I had traveled the globe on assignment to fish, bones had never been on the docket. By 10 AM, I’m pouring sweat and haven’t seen anything. Christen is surely awake by now and wondering why her honeymoon adventures had yet to begin. And when I greet her, defeated by Flamingo Lake, I suggest we spend the rest of our day at Bonefish Point on the island’s east end. She smiles, rolls her eyes a little, and starts making sandwiches to pack for lunch.
With a name like Bonefish Point, one might be led to believe bonefish schools are so thick, they bounce off your legs as you wade. Perhaps at times they do, but after a long trek over rough dirt roads to this uninhabited part of Provo, I’m more lost than ever. The expanses of unspoiled aqua flats are so vast, I feel like I’m looking for a snowball in the Arctic. On the beach I find a sun-dried, rotting bonefish head. I assume by the remnants of a fire and fishing line strewn about, the locals hooked it on a piece of conch and ate the rest of the catch. I’m trying to fool one of the most elusive gamefish with a bit of feather and deer hair. Maybe I’m asking too much.
Between bouts of snorkeling and collecting shells, I keep a watchful eye on the water thinking bonefish will magically appear or some secret will unfold that proves they’ve been in front of me the whole time. No such thing occurs. I see a big shark cruise in close to the beach and spook back to sea when I cast in front of it. “Don’t worry,” Christen says. “You’ve got plenty of time. You’ll catch a bonefish.”
Oh, brother
I told Christen before we came to Turks & Caicos that I wasn’t going to spend any money on a guided bonefish trip. I was going to catch them on my own. I also wasn’t going to let bonefishing interfere with our time together. It is a fine plan, but one I realize might not secure me a catch as I walk the road along Flamingo Lake the next morning, once again not seeing anything worth casting towards. That’s when the little white rental Jeep pulls up. Tim Hill, clad in the same style quick-dry shorts and breathable fishing shirt I’m wearing, jumps out.
“You catch anything?,” he asks.
“Nope. I thought this was going to be easier,” I say.
“Dude, I know. So did I.”
As it turns out, he and his wife Kristi are from Maryland and also on their honeymoon. They opted for Harbour Club because Tim has the sickness as bad as I do, and like me, he has never caught a bonefish. Over the next few days I would find out that the similarities between Tim and I, and Kristi and Christen, bordered on something from a Twilight Zone episode. We may all have been siblings separated at birth.
Tim and I spend the rest of the morning slogging through Turtle Lake next to Flamingo Lake, waste-deep in mud that makes moving feel like there are 50-pound weights strapped to my legs. We split up, Tim following one shoreline and I the other. I see schools of tiny tropical fish milling around in the silt clouds I kick up with every arduous step. I cast blindly at mangroves. Nothing. This is hopeless. That’s when I hear Tim scream, “Dude!” I swing around to see him 80 yards across the lake, his rod bent over in a fierce arc. “Oh my God! I got one!”

Learning curves
The two fishing widows, Christen and Kristi, are getting acquainted by the pool when Tim and I return three hours later. I walk by my wife without saying much, kick off my dirty wading boots, and plunge into the water. My heart rate begins to fall instantly and my burning skin cools. Trudging across Turtle Lake has exhausted me.
“So? How’d you do?,” Christen asks, smiling from a lounge chair wearing big, round sunglasses.
“We each hooked and lost a bonefish,” I tell her as I dunk my hat into the pool and put it back on dripping. “But we learned a lot. It’s the tide. We’re spending too much energy walking and looking for them. You have to get in position while the tide’s moving out and stay put. They move from the flats into the deep canal, grubbing the bottom for food as the water recedes. You have to let them come to you.”
All she says is, “Cool, man.” Kristi laughs. I have a habit of going off on rants about scientific fishing details without remembering Christen cares about and understands very little of them. Saying I lost a bonefish would have sufficed. And I’m not even lying about it. Tim’s fish broke off before I was halfway over to him, but when I reached the part of the lake where he connected, the lessons began.
The mud was lighter and pocked with small mounds and crevices. Nothing I had fished in Flamingo Lake or the other side of Turtle looked like this. The water came up just above my ankle; shallower than most other spots I had been traversing. You could actually feel the water draining off the flat as the tide fell. Tim and I stood 20 feet apart in silence. Somewhere around us I heard a gurgle.
“Right there,” Tim whispered, pointing with his fly rod. A shimmering silver bonefish tail stuck straight out of the water, gently waving as the fish swam nose-down, digging through the mud looking for a meal. It was too far to reach with a cast, and the bottom was too thick for quick movements. If I tried to rush closer, it would have surely scared the fish. Instead we crept backwards along the shoreline, hearing more splashing bones and spotting distant tails. The tide was dropping so quickly, the tops of the mud mounds were getting exposed to the air. Then by some stroke of luck, I spied four bonefish moving in my direction and managed to cast my shrimp fly in their path. One grabbed it instantly, bolted away at lightning speed, and broke the line before I could blink. It was my one and only shot of the day, but such is fishing.
That afternoon Christen and I are at Coral Gardens on Grace Bay. I chuckle at the “No Fishing” signs posted on the beach around this haven for snorkelers. As we swim together over the reef, Christen points every time she spots a fish species we’ve yet to encounter. I’m struck by the beauty of the big yellowtail snappers investigating me, though I find this particular species prettier when it dons rich charcoal grill lines and a slathering of fresh mango salsa. We are there almost until dark and Christen couldn’t be happier, spending almost every minute in the water. I’m happy, too. I’ve figured out the bonefish mystery and tomorrow, by day’s end, I’m sure I’ll have a snapshot of me holding a gray ghost I caught on my own.

The breakdown

Success!

Fishing guide Darin Bain

Silver lining
That evening, on pitcher three of homemade piña coladas, Tim and I finally change the subject from our bonefish trip to . . . well, I don’t actually remember, though I’m sure Christen and Kristi were tired of hearing about fishing by then. I may have lost a giant bonefish on Darin’s boat, but I did not end the day empty-handed. Tim and I caught plenty of bonefish, just none as worthy of a framed photo as my first line-snapping monster. I go to bed feeling great, both because of the rum and coconut sleep medication, and because I had finally caught some bonefish. Still, in the back of my mind, I wanted my self-guided trophy.
In the morning, Christen and I are packing bags for a snorkeling trip when Marta knocks on the villa door. “I was talking to Darin,” she tells me, “and he needs some new photos for his website. I’d like some new bonefish pictures for our site as well. You make a good model. He’s willing to take you, me, and Christen out again tomorrow if you’re interested.”
It’s a proposition I’d be a fool to pass up, but it would mean sacrificing my last chance to hook a bonefish in Turtle or Flamingo Lake. It would be our last day on the island, but I emphatically accept, and even get a sense of excitement from Christen, who seems eager to join me.
When Tim and I were out with Darin, we caught seven fish between us. We were pleased with that, and I would have been just as content with a repeat performance the following day. Only this time I am the lone angler. Every shot is mine. Darin poles us quietly into an open, shallow lagoon as Marta fires frame after frame with her camera. Christen sits on the bow holding my camera, ready to shoot when I connect. There is not a breath of wind. The surface is a sheet of glass, except for a wide, nervous patch of moving water.
“Are those all bonefish?,” I ask Darin in disbelief of what I’m seeing. He grins and tells me I’m not going crazy. I cast directly into the center of what must be 200 gray ghosts swimming in unison like choreographed jets in an air show. I hook one instantly and the entire school follows its struggling brother. Cameras flash as I land the fish and quickly return it to the turquoise water. The school hasn’t moved far. For the next 40 minutes, bone after bone attacks my fly in what I can only describe as the antithesis of everything I know about the species. Bonefish are sly, wary, and cunning fighters. These fish would strike a hotdog if I presented it to them, and they have no qualms about swimming right up to the boat. Christen even lands a few after I hook them up. The day is perfect.
It is our last night in Provo, and to kill some time before dinner, I ask Marta to borrow her kayaks for a paddle in the marina channel. Christen comes along for one last sit on the beach, one last dip in the warm ocean. Naturally, I bring a fly rod, though I am more interested in relaxing than seriously fishing. We paddle to the pretty little beach behind Harbour Club and Christen lays out her towel to take in the late day rays. I shove off again for the boat channel drifting and casting in the deep, clear water. I’m thinking about the long day of travel ahead, of Tim and Kristi who I hope we stay in contact with, and of how getting back to the routine of life will be depressing. That’s when my fly gets bumped. I expect a jackfish or grunt in this deep water, but what flops into my lap after the short fight is a small, glistening bonefish. I laugh to myself as it jumps around the kayak, pops off the hook and wriggles back into the water. Then I paddle back to the beach and watch the sunset with my wife.

Joe Cermele works on the editorial staff of Field & Stream magazine in New York City, and was formerly an editor with Salt Water Sportsman. His writing has appeared in The Fly Fish Journal, Men’s Journal, and On The Water. Cermele is a fishing fanatic who also hosts an online web show and blogs weekly about fishing for Field & Stream. He lives in New Jersey with his wife, Christen, and potcake dog, Ava, who they adopted during their Provo honeymoon.