The tale of the “stranger king” is told in some version in virtually every culture in the world. It is the tale of an immigrant king who deposes the former ruler and marries his daughter. The basic story line is as follows: The heroic son-in-law from a foreign land demonstrates his divine gifts, wins the daughter, and inherits half or more of the kingdom.

Before it was a fairy tale, it was a theory of society. Accounts of the stranger king have been retold numerous times in anthropological works. Marshall Sahlins devoted an extended essay to such beliefs, with an emphasis on those from Fiji and Hawaii, and demonstrated how belief in a stranger king not only justified king/subject relations, but also structured native reactions during initial contacts with Europeans.

In previous issues we have made mention of Caonabó, the most powerful cacique (chief) on Hispaniola when Columbus arrived on the island. We have written about him because it is likely that he grew up on Middle Caicos at the site known as MC-6. His story is the subject of a new book: Taino Indian Myth and Practice: The Arrival of the Stranger King by William Keegan, which will be published by the University Press of Florida in April.

The book explores the intersection of myths, beliefs and practice among the different participants who have written this history. For example, the Taino imbued Caonabó with a mythical status bordering on divinity; the Spanish imposed their own beliefs on their interactions with Caonabó and recorded the story; and the archaeologists who have studied this time period have used their beliefs to interpret the events and to present these as history. The story and legend of Caonabó begin with the sinking of the Santa María.

Shortly past midnight on Christmas Day, 1492, the Santa María had her belly ripped open on a coral reef. Awakened by the sound of an explosion that could be heard “a full league off” (about three miles), Columbus quickly assessed the situation and ordered the main mast cut away to lighten the vessel. He also sent Juan de la Cosa, the ship’s master, to take a boat and cast an anchor astern in order to keep the vessel from being driven further onto the reef. Instead, de la Cosa fled to the Niña. The captain of the Niña refused to let de la Cosa onboard and sent a longboat to aid the admiral. It was too little too late; the Santa María was stuck fast.

The wreck of the Santa María occurred in the Taino province of Marien, which was ruled by a cacique named Guacanagarí. Upon learning of the wreck, Guacanagarí wept openly and he sent weeping relations to console Columbus throughout the night. Afraid to risk the Niña in salvaging the Santa María, Columbus enlisted Guacanagarí’s assistance. His people recovered everything, including planks and nails, and assembled the materials on the beach. So thorough were the Tainos that not a single “agujeta” (lace-end or needle) was misplaced. Thus Guacanagarí came to be the first Taino cacique to establish a strong bond with the Spanish. Furthermore, his life-long friendship with Columbus can be interpreted as an unsuccessful effort on his part to enhance his status in the island’s political hierarchy.

Columbus took the sinking of the Santa María as a sign from God that he should build a fort in this location. Guacanagarí gave Columbus two large houses to use. With the assistance of his people, the Spaniards reportedly began the construction of a fort, tower, and moat in the cacique’s village using the timbers and other materials salvaged from the Santa María. Because the Niña could not accommodate all of the sailors, about 39 men were left at La Navidad with instructions to exchange and trade for gold.

When Columbus returned to La Navidad in 1493 he learned that all of the Christians were dead and that the fort had been burned to the ground. Columbus was told that soon after he returned to Spain the Spaniards fell to fighting among themselves. Some had gone off into the country to seek their fortune, but King Caonabó had murdered those who had remained there. History records that the Spaniards were killed because they abused the local people; they raped, looted, pillaged, and abused the hospitality of their hosts. Yet, if such local violations led to their deaths, then the local leader should have ordered the killing. Guacanagarí claimed that he was innocent, that he was a friend of Columbus, and that he had himself been wounded in battle defending the Spaniards.

Columbus apparently believed him, and he did not blame Guacanagarí for the destruction of La Navidad. Instead, Caonabó, the primary cacique for this region and the ruler to whom Guacanagarí owed fealty, was blamed. As proof, Columbus’s son Ferdinand wrote that when Caonabó was later captured he admitted to killing 20 of the men at La Navidad. Would another leader have acted differently? Whatever abuses the Spanish may have committed, Caonabó could not allow a second-level cacique like Guacanagarí to harbor a well-armed garrison of Europeans in his village. Had he done so, his own survival would have been threatened.

The reaction of Caonabó to foreigners in his territory was immediate and swift. The fact that Caonabó took military action against the Spaniards at La Navidad attests to his status. Guacanagarí’s village was more than 80 km as the crow flies (more than 90 km by foot) from Caonabó’s village. Despite this distance, Caonabó exerted his power and displayed his regional status. Las Casas and Oviedo y Valdés both identified him as one of the five principal caciques on the island. On his return to Hispaniola in 1494, Columbus was distracted by the need to establish a beachhead on the island, and thus Caonabó was ignored for a while. However, with the establishment of Fort Santo Tomás, Caonabó and his brothers were again identified as the main threat to the Spanish enterprise.

In reading the accounts of the chroniclers it is hard to see why Caonabó was considered to be such a threat. Indeed, Carl Sauer concluded that Caonabó was not a menace. Furthermore, there reportedly was little gold in his cacicazgo, and there is no indication that he made any offensive moves against the Spanish after ridding himself of the pestilence at La Navidad. Perhaps his power and fame came from a reputation based on past deeds. It is possible that the Tainos who were being abused by the Spanish referred to their big and powerful brother (Caonabó) who would eventually come to their rescue. Or perhaps the perceived threat derived from Columbus’s personal anger over the destruction of La Navidad. The motives are difficult to sort out.

Concerned with the threat that Caonabó posed to Fort Santo Tomás, Hojeda and nine horsemen went to visit Caonabó as emissaries of Columbus. When Caonabó heard they were coming he was especially pleased because he was told they were bringing a gift of turey, and he was fascinated by stories of the bell in the church at La Isabela which the natives had described as “turey that speaks.” When Hojeda arrived he told Caonabó that he was bringing a gift of turey from Biscay, that it came from heaven, had a great secret power, and that the Kings of Castile wore it as a great jewel during their arietos, the Taino word for ceremonial songs and dances. Hojeda then suggested that Caonabó go to the river to bathe and relax, as was their custom, and that he would then present his gift. Having no reason to fear a few Spaniards in his own village, Caonabó one day decided to claim the gift and went off to the river with a few retainers. While he was at the river, about 2 km from the village, Hojeda tricked him into going off together. When they were alone, Hojeda presented Caonabó with the highly polished silver-colored handcuffs and manacles he had brought. He instructed Caonabó in how they were worn, placed him on his horse, and with Caonabó as his captive, Hojeda and his men, with swords drawn, made haste to return to La Isabela. The trap was set, and successfully sprung.

It is reported that Columbus decided to send Caonabó to Castile along with as many slaves as the ships would hold, although some dispute whether Caonabó was ever sent to Spain. The official report is that the ships sank and that Caonabó was lost at sea. It was further reported that Caonabó’s brothers were determined to seek retribution by waging a cruel war against the Spaniards such that they would drive them from their lands. Yet there are no records of any substantial military successes by the Tainos of Hispaniola, so it appears that the brothers failed to achieve their reported objective. Within a decade the native population was decimated by warfare, cruelty, enslavement, and disease.

Ferdinand Columbus described Caonabó as “a man well up in years, experienced and of the most piercing wit and much knowledge.” He was strong, authoritative, and brave. He was the paramount cacique (matunheri) for the Maguana cacicazgo. His main settlement was located on the west side of the Cordillera Central, and the Spanish town of San Juan de Maguana was established there after he was deposed.

This town, which still exists today, is the site of the largest Taino earthwork in all of the West Indies. It is today called Corales de los Indios, and measures more than 125,000 square meters. But most important, Caonabó was described as coming to Hispaniola from the Lucayan Islands (Bahama archipelago). How was it that the most powerful chief came from the relatively insignificant Lucayan islands? If you are interested in the answer, then you will have to read the book.

Dr. Bill Keegan is Curator of Caribbean Archaeology at the Florida Museum of Natural History, University of Florida, Gainesville, Florida. Dr. Betsy Carlson is an Archaeologist at Southeastern Archaeological Research, Inc., Gainesville, Florida.

Story By Suzanne Gerber

Photos By Barbara Shively

Of all the traits and qualities of a fish’s life, color is the most important. We humans who snorkel, scuba-dive and visit aquariums tend to regard fishes’ colors and patterns as merely aesthetic: things of beauty that enchant and beguile us and always draw us back for more encounters. But to the critters themselves, color is a way of life — a means of protecting themselves from predators, of attracting a mate for reproductive purposes and of signaling advanced stages of maturity. The more we learn about the significance of a fish’s coloration, the great understanding we’ll have of its entire life.

Speaking very generally, a dull-colored fish is primarily concerned with protection, hence his natural camouflage. We see this in even more dramatic fashion when a larger critter (fish or human) approaches and the fish changes color to blend in better with his surroundings. Divers are well aware of this phenomenon. It’s common for one person to spot a well-hidden master of disguise and attempt to point it out to her buddy, only for the buddy to look and look and ultimately throw up his arms in defeat. If only we understood the complex process of nerves and hormones sending lightning-quick messages to layer upon layer of chromatophores and iridophores, we’d marvel at their talent instead of swimming away disappointed.

At the other end of the spectrum are the brightly colored fish. Some wear their flamboyant hues all the time, others flash them only when they’re “in the mood” and need to signal their intentions to their intended. Usually it’s the males who get brighter as they grow friskier, but they’re dancing with death, as their brightness also makes them more visible to would-be predators. This is why it’s a rare (and wonderful) treat to catch a fish, or a pair, positively glowing, looking like they’ve been lit up from the inside. The delightful cowfish, usually a mottled brownish-greenish color, turns iridescent blue-green when he’s hot to trot. When they find their mate, they will encircle each other and rise up high in the water column. But they’re interesting critters — I once saw five of them in a circle dance that seemed shockingly polyamorous.

And there’s the predictable color changing that happens with certain species of fish as they grow and mature sexually. It’s less common than you’d expect for a fish to look totally different as a baby (or juvenile) than as an intermediate, and ultimately as an adult. But the three species we’ve selected for this article do just that — and brilliantly. Barbara and I are like judicious mothers: we love all our fishy babies equally. But truth be told, these three hold a special place in our hearts, and when we find the juvies, we are ecstatic to the point of becoming silly.

Blue tang

These highly social surgeonfish can be found on their own, but more typically they’re clustered together in a huge school for protection. In fact, with rare exception, they even reproduce in large aggregations. When they do, you can tell the males because their heads and the front of their bodies grow light and slightly iridescent.

When babies are hatched, their initial stage is called the post-larval, and they are truly cute as a button. But you’ll need a fish ID book to see just how adorable, for finding one of these well-protected critters with a naked eye is an extremely rare occurrence. From here, the newborns quickly morph into bright yellow juveniles and are noted for being highly territorial. The males particularly are aggressive toward would-be space invaders. As they grow, their bodies elongate and turn a powdery blue, though their tails remain yellow. At this stage they mix with other species, but by the time they’re about four to five inches long and totally blue, they cluster into small groups comprised only of tangs. Around age two, they lose some of their brightness, become full-fledged adults, and fall in with the foraging groups, where they spend more of their days swimming and grazing.

Tang are extremely curious and friendly fish, and won’t duck and dart when a human eyeball (or viewfinder) is trained on them. I remember before I was a diver, I was snorkeling off a cay in Belize and fell in with a group of possibly 1,000 Blue Tang. They “allowed” me to stay with them for the entire 30 to 45 minutes I was snorkeling. It was a thrill I’ll never forget.

Spotted drum

You’ll always know when your dive guide has come upon one of these stunners: he or she will stop moving and use both hand to imitate beating on a drum. And while you might never hear it, these little guys actually are emitting a low drum-like sound, produced by special muscles in their swim bladders (hence their name). When you come upon a drum fish, approach slowly. This is a very shy fellow, who’s probably already under a ledge or inside a big crevice in the reef. When he feels threatened, he will beat a hasty retreat and not be seen again.

But when you are lucky enough to catch his little circle dance, you will never want to leave the premises. He’s been likened to an expectant father, pacing back and forth, and for good reason. Because his coloring is flamboyant, camouflage isn’t really an option, so he stays close to the base of a coral or opening of a cave, into which he can dart in a split second. As a youngster, the drummer sports very elongated dorsal and anal fins, which flit in the water like the tiniest sailboat.

As a new juvenile, the drummer has only got stripes, until he reaches the intermediate stage, when his body grows longer, the fins get re-proportioned, the stripes become horizontal as well as vertical and the first of the spots appear. He’s still a looker, but divers are already pining for his baby days. As an adult he can grow to nine inches, but he’ll stay solitary, except to mate. Though he’s a member of the same genus as the jackknife fish or high hat (and similar-looking), don’t confuse this unique fish with his less exotic cousins.

Trunkfish

Part of the irresistible family of boxfish, the Trunkfish is a common sighting in the waters surrounding Turks & Caicos, as well as the greater Caribbean. But once you catch sight of a tiny, pea-size baby, you will agree there’s nothing “common” about this guy at all!

What’s notable about this fish (either the smooth or spotted Trunkfish) is the shape of his little body (six to twelve inches at full maturity). It’s enclosed in bony armorlike plates (called, as with a turtle, a carpace). Only the mouth, eyes, fins, and vent are exposed from the triangular, box-like shape. Hard as their bony skeleton is, they’re actually feathery-soft on the outside.

When a Trunkfish is first hatched, you will think you’ve happened upon a tiny, polka-dotted die bouncing in the water. At Grand Turk, where Barbara and I have enjoyed many wonderful dives, we’ve specifically asked our dive guides to do the nearly impossible and find a new baby upon demand so we can giggle underwater and Barbara can get the ultimate shot. It defies probability, but in my experience, every time I’ve requested a trunk “ball” (as I like to call them), I’ve been rewarded.

Young Trunkfish have a more rounded body and may exhibit brighter colors than the sedate brown adult. Because of their shape and scale structure, these little guys swim relatively slowly and use a rowing fashion. Don’t try to catch one, though: even the slowest trunk swims two to three times faster than we can.

New York-based Suzanne Gerber writes about scuba, travel and health for a variety of publications. Book your next dive trip at www.worldofdiving.com.

Avid underwater photographer Barbara Shively discovered Grand Turk diving in 1997 and has returned every year. It is her passion to share the coral reefs’ beauty with friends and family through her photographs. See her work at: shivelygallery.home.comcast.net.

I’m looking out the window of the airplane on my flight from Providenciales to Grand Turk, admiring all the gorgeous turquoise hues of water. We fly over the tiny cays, then North, Middle and South Caicos. The easy-going, colorful ocean banks stop; we are flying over the serious-looking open water of the Columbus Passage. That’s when the pilot announces, “Get ready for our landing in Grand Turk.” Landing? Where? I don’t see any land out of the small side windows. But, just like faith, it’s really there and we soon touch down at Grand Turk’s distinctive JAGS McCartney International Airport. Although only 20 minutes by air from Providenciales, Grand Turk is worlds’ away in personality. And although the nation’s capital is only eight miles long and a couple of miles wide, in one day you can feel like you’ve had two very different vacation experiences.

I started the day on Front Street. I had been to Grand Turk before, and was curious to see how a cruise ship terminal would affect the island. Known as a sleepy diver’s destination, described “as the way the Caribbean used to be,” I was curious to see if all of this had changed.

It was a postcard-scene day — no clouds in the sky, and blue neon sparkling water. Early in the morning, there were no cruise ship tourists yet on Front Street, but an hour later, they started trickling down the avenues. In spite of this, Cockburn Town was still colorful, still sleepy, still charming. Walking down Front Street, you could see the brillliantly painted boats parked along the beach, and the dive boats busily trundling divers out to dive sites on the reef and wall. The cross streets still have their evocative names, like “Queen Street,” “Prison Street” and “Doctor’s Alley,” but now the signs are a bit fancier. The occasional rooster still proudly struts from his yard and Islanders still sit under trees, seeking shady shelter from the bright sun. Somehow, the town had retained its Old World, sleepy charm.

Cockburn Town is so photogenic and the day seemed made for taking pictures, so I set up at beautiful St Mary’s church and waited for an Islander on a bicycle to ride by. While I waited, two women came out of the church and invited me inside for a look around. They explained to me that on cruise ship days, the organist plays music with the doors open for everyone to enjoy. They talked and laughed with me while I was waiting to take my picture. Unfortunately, there were no bicyclists so I moved on.

I continued walking. I started at the Osprey Hotel, and strolled down Duke Street, admiring the walled yards cascading in flowers and huge trees. I walked all the way down to Bohio Resort, a good distance, greeted along the way with a profusion of “Hellos” and “Good Mornings.” Many women I passed sported beautiful hats or umbrellas for shade. Every building, every house, was more fascinating than the last.

I doubled back to the Turks & Caicos National Museum. For such a small island, this is a terrific museum presenting a lot of history. Former U.S. Senator John Glenn, the first astronaut on the moon, splashed down near Grand Turk. His space capsule is next to the airport, and all the information about the event is at the museum. Grand Turk also claims to be the first landing for Columbus in the New World. The museum includes artifacts from a wrecked Spanish galleon and some cannons are in the town square.

I stopped at the church again to try my luck at finding a bicyclist in front of the church gates. By then, there were more cruise ship tourists walking around. Finally, a local gentleman on a bike rode by. Of course, it happened so quickly, I missed the shot. He stopped a block away, so I went to talk to him. He said he would come back and pose for a picture. After that, he asked if I had come from the cruise ship. I told him that I had flown over from Provo for the day. He was eager to talk and wanted to meet people from all over the world.

Some of the passengers from the cruise ship came over, too. They explained that this was the last port on this cruise, which had stopped in Antigua, Virgin Gorda, and Tortola. One couple told me Grand Turk was their favorite. They had never seen water so turquoise, so clear, and with so much sparkle.

After Cockburn Town, I made it to the cruise ship center. The port has a long dock, so no tenders are needed. Tourists can easily walk on and off the ship. At the terminal, there is a small village of duty-free shops and the largest Jimmy Buffet-themed “Margaritaville” in the Caribbean. The village is very colorful, with pastel buildings contrasting against the stunning blue water. Margaritaville has a huge, winding pool, with a swim-up bar. I decided to have lunch there and people-watch. Margaritaville continues the party atmosphere from the cruise ship onto land, with lots of activities, drinks and fun. They had karaoke, Jimmy Buffet tunes and drink specials. They had games at the pool for prizes, and everyone was having a great time. Of course, the port also offers land-based activities, such as trolleys to Governor’s Beach, horseback riding, and tours to the lighthouse and old prison.

The cruise ship that day was a smaller one, with only around 400 passengers. Sometimes there are two ships docked with about 2,000 passengers each. The cruise ship village is only open when there is a ship at the dock. Only three miles away, and a $3 cab fare, is Front Street, yet it feels worlds away.

I think it’s incredible that such a small island can offer such completely different contrasts. Tourists can choose or do both — the active shopping area of the village, or the sleepy, picturesque “get away from it all” Front Street.

The story began on a silent night when a lone mother was forced to leave her future babes on a washed out stretch of sand. The saga unfolds with a rescued nest, followed by a joyous night of tiny turtles scrambling for the surf and of at least one survivor that lives with a tale to tell.

May 23, 2005

The moon is full; its light sparkling across the rippling water. From the ocean’s silky embrace rises a soul returned to the site of her birth. She paddles slowly, eyeing the narrow strand of shore. As she reaches the sand, she heaves her heavy body ashore, lumbering her way past the high water mark. Unfortunately, her path is obstructed by a cliff of sand and stone and she is forced to return to the beach. Weary from her long journey and on the verge of giving birth, she seems to have no choice but to create her nest too close to the rising tides. She digs and digs and then painstakingly deposits her treasures of a lifetime. Carefully, she covers her nest and heads back to her home, the watery expanses of the Atlantic Ocean and Caribbean Sea.

The next morning, a longtime resident of Long Bay and marine ecologist jogs with her two friends down the strand of sand known as Long Bay Beach. Almost to the end of her run, she stumbles across what can only be the telltale tracks of a mother turtle in search of a nesting site. She quickly confirms the alternate flipper tracks and races home to tell her best friend (and local turtle expert) about the miraculous find. In 14 years of nearly daily jaunts on this beach, she has never seen the tracks of a turtle. Her fear, if in fact there is a nest, is what she knows and what mama turtle may have not. In the summer, the sand on this end of the beach now tends to disappear.

Together, they race back to the site knowing time is of the essence if they need to relocate a nest. Gently, prodding and probing the sand, they find a depression and carefully start to dig. After what seems like forever, one beautiful gleaming globe of white emerges, then another and another. Placing the eggs softly into a sand-lined cooler, they count out a total of 129 eggs. Measurements are taken of the exact nest dimensions and the two scurry off in search of a more suitable site. Working as quickly as possible, due to the heat and its danger to the eggs, they relocate the nest on higher ground. Then they begin to count down the days . . .

July 16, 2005

Morning runs now include nest site inspection and on this beautiful day, a swath of tiny turtle tracks can be seen leading from the nest to the sea. Having speculated from the mother’s type of tracks that this was a hawksbill’s nest, the early hatch was quite a surprise. As were the sharks patrolling the shallows. An all night vigil was then planned with several neighbors joining the watch to see if any more babies would emerge. Shortly after sunset, one, then two little heads poked their way through the sand. These two were whisked off to Caicos Conch Farm, in case no more should survive. Promptly and properly named Turks and Caicos, they were kept for scientific evaluation. After examining the hatchlings, it was determined that they were in fact loggerheads, not hawksbills.

A couple hours go by and it’s decided to excavate the nest once again to see how many of the 129 eggs made their way from egg to sea. As the layers of eggs emerged, so do more baby turtles struggling their way to the surface of sand. A total of 37 more babies hatched that night and were helped by a host of children and adults to make their way to the sea. By counting the discarded shells it was determined that 101 rare and endangered Loggerhead turtles survived this first stage of their lives.

June 16, 2006

Nearly a year has passed since that night of anticipation and awe, where cheers of the children are still remembered as they urged their fledgling friends on their scramble to the sea. Of the two babies kept, only Turks survived through the first harrowing week of life, but so quickly gained in strength and size, the turtle was soon dubbed “Mr. T.” Although the actual sex of turtles is not known for years (and told by the differences in their tails), the ridge of spines down the back, stubby neck, ferocious appetite and strength all led to a name change from Turks to just plain Mr. T.

Rather than gold chains, Mr. T was bejeweled with a tag that will help to identify him after his release, with training that would hopefully aid him once he was back within his own world. During this time, Mr. T was ensconced in what could be thought of as a luxury Loggerhead spa — the Caicos Conch Farm on Providenciales. In the early days, he was quartered in his own private, tub-like tank, complete with floating Sargassum weed, and fed a daily fresh surplus of baby conch. He quickly outgrew these surroundings and was given a private offshore 70 m diameter “pen-house,” where he could swim more freely and learn to feed off his natural environment. But his trainers and surrogate mothers still made weekly feeding forays, where he was hand-fed conch meat and supplied with live jellyfish and then scrubbed occasionally to keep his shell clean in the shallow waters. Somewhat the spoiled celebrity, he would at times not grace them with his presence, but would otherwise generally show up in a feisty mood to get his scrubs and meals.

Although a strong fighter for sure, Mr. T’s fate was not to stay in the ring-shaped pen, but to make his fame visiting the Islands’ schools. Children of all sizes got to see and touch the now sizable Mr. T while learning about what he liked to do the in the wild, and just how special and few there are of his kind left in the world. Most importantly, they learned what they could do to help more of his brethren survive.

July 21, 2006

Finally, the time came for Mr. T to return to his ocean home. For the Islands’ most popular turtle, no greater send-off could be envisioned as the one organized by the 2006 Junior Park Warden Program students. Held by the shores of palatial Point Grace, billowing white tents housed the celebrities in attendance, with Mr. T center-stage in his own aquaria. Several speeches were made by local dignitaries, honoring the accomplishments of the Junior Park Wardens, while advocating the importance of environmental education and awareness in this rapidly developing country. Mr. T and his role in educating the nation’s youth was further sanctioned by the TCI’s First Lady, who then released him into the turquoise waters of Grace Bay. The students created a “red carpet” corridor for the scaly celebrity to swim through as he made his way to the fringing reefs and open ocean that will be his home.

January, 2007

Months later, there is still no sign of Mr. T, but he now has thousands of miles to roam and explore in his ocean home and many years of life to do so. We can only hope that the humans he encounters along the way will respect his right to life as one of the few remaining turtles of his kind. And there is still the possibility that Mr. T is actually a she, and that she may one day return to the quiet shores of Long Bay Beach, gracing us with another nest of baby Loggerheads to keep the cycle of life and its natural wonders continuing in perpetuity.

Dear Mr. T,

Thank you for sharing your time while showing us what an amazing natural world we all live in. We wish you a safe journey and a full and productive life. Please come see us again.

With Love, from the Children of the TCI

Take care, my little one, and thanks for giving me such a worthwhile tale to tell . . . Marsha Pardee

Turtle Facts:

Of the 250 different species of turtles, only 7 types live in the sea. Marine turtles mature between 30–50 years of age, with females nesting for at least two decades of their lives. It is thought that turtles can live up to 100 years old. Males and females are differentiated by their tails, with the male’s tail becoming comparatively long to aid in sperm deposition when mating. Courtship and mating occur in the water, often near the nesting beaches, but sometimes in open ocean. Mating occurs about 30 days before the female begins nesting, but the one mating will suffice for a whole season’s eggs.

Females may nest several times (2–6 clutches) during a season, which is typically the warmer months of the year, with the duration depending upon geographical location of the nesting beach. Most females will return to nest at 2–7 year intervals. During each nesting event, a female will lay an average of 100 eggs.

Nests can be up to 1 meter in depth, and somewhat bottle-shaped. Sea turtle eggs are soft, spherical and white, approximately 40–60 mm in diameter. The eggs’ development is rapid, with an embryo having a beating heart and well developed eye after a mere 10 days. Sunlight, weather, and associated temperatures are important factors in development, with the average turtle hatch taking somewhere between 6–10 weeks after the eggs are laid. Temperature also determines sex ratio within the nest, with warmer temperatures favoring females. Different turtle species also have slightly different incubation times.

The most commonly seen marine turtles in the TCI are Green sea turtles (Chelonia mydas) and Hawksbills (Eretmochelys imbricate). Loggerhead sea turtles (Caretta caretta) are much less common, with Leatherback turtles (Dermochelys coriacea) seen only occasionally in deep water, and only unconfirmed sightings of Kemp’s Ridley turtles (Lepidochelys kempi) seen off Providenciales’ reefs. Green sea turtles and Leatherbacks make track marks in the sand that are symmetrical diagonal using both front flippers simultaneously, while the Hawksbills, Loggerheads and Ridleys make alternating (asymmetrical) diagonal marks with the front flippers. Variations in the shell plates (or scutes) and number are the most common means of differentiating between the different types.

Female turtles can produce over 1,000 eggs in a lifetime, but not all will hatch. Some eggs will be infertile, others lost by erosion or nest predation (by raccoons, dogs, foxes, pigs, ants and others), and some collected (often illegally) for human consumption. Once hatched, the baby turtles are immediately prey for numerous other predators, such as crabs, birds, and sharks. It is estimated that fewer than 1% of hatchlings survive to maturity.

Mature turtles are less susceptible to predation from other marine species due to their size, but humans have long been a grown turtle’s most formidable foe. Not only because of direct harvesting for consumption and trade, but accidental catches in active or abandoned fishing gear, oil spills, chemical wastes, garbage disposal in the oceans and development degradation of nesting sites and foraging grounds also pose severe threats to remaining populations.

Scientists believe (but don’t know for sure) that young turtles often live in the drift or weed lines where seaweed and other debris float on the ocean’s surface. Turtles less than a year of age cannot yet dive very deep (not more than a few inches), so living in the drift line makes sense, particularly where there is food and cover in abundance. If they get the chance to outgrow this most vulnerable life stage, 10 or so years on as they mature, they may make it back inshore to feed in protected bays, estuaries and coastal shallows.

Loggerhead turtles are mainly carnivorous throughout their life, with large heads (hence the name) and powerful jaws to crush prey. Although little is known about baby turtles in the wild, it is believed they thrive on the variety of foodstuffs found with the floating weed lines, such as tiny crabs, fish and mollusk. As their powerful jaw muscles develop, they can crack into larger prey items found as they hunt the seabeds. They are also known to feed on jellyfish, but most close their eyes to avoid the stings when they bite. While feeding at the surface, they often confuse plastic litter for jellyfish, which can block their guts and become fatal.

Taking action

Environmental education and awareness programs are one way in which important messages can be spread regarding the effects of human existence on the natural environment. Teaching future generations to have respect and regard for our natural resources is one way of helping them to ensure a future not only for themselves, but for all other creatures that help make up our living world.

With regards to sea turtles, there a number of ways that everyone can play a role in ensuring their survival:

• Don’t purchase sea turtle products, including shell or food items, jewelry or leather. International law (CITES) prevents transport of such across most national borders.

• Obey regulations regarding the protection of seagrass beds and coral reefs.

• Check fishing nets frequently to ensure sea turtles are not ensnared and drowned. Watch carefully to avoid striking turtles when operating watercraft.

• Don’t harass sea turtles whether on land or sea; don’t interfere with foraging turtles, shine lights on nesting turtles, ride turtles, disturb nests, or collect eggs and hatchlings.

• Artificial lighting can disorient nesting and hatching turtles, leading them inland and away from sea. Please turn off, shield and/or redirect coastal lighting to prevent it from shining on nesting beaches.

• Don’t drive on sandy beaches, as incubating eggs can be crushed and tire ruts can trap hatchlings on their crawl to open water.

• Don’t leave lounge chairs, sailboats or other obstructions on nesting beaches at night.

• Safeguard natural vegetation that stabilizes sandy beach habitat from erosion and provides sheltered nesting sites (preferred particularly by Hawksbills).

• Don’t litter beaches; cans and bottles can cause injury to nesting and hatching turtles.

• Don’t discard plastics and other refuse at sea; entanglement and ingestion could be fatal to turtles.

• Promote responsible best management practices with regard to size limits, seasonal closure or bans and advocate for long-term population monitoring.

• Support sustainable non-consumptive alternatives to harvest.

• Report all violations of regulations protecting sea turtles, their young, and the habitats upon which they depend for survival.

Excerpted from WIDECAST publication on the Conservation of Caribbean Sea Turtles.

As adults, sea turtles travel to traditional feeding and nesting grounds. These can be sometimes thousands of miles apart. How they navigate to these distant realms is still a mystery. It is believed that mothers return to the beach of their birth to lay their eggs. There is no hard evidence for this, but it is known that females do return to the same nesting sites time and again.

Hawksbill sea turtles are now a Critically Endangered species, primarily because of their beautiful shells. Leatherback and Kemp Ridley turtles face the same fate, but are harvested more for their meat than shells. Loggerhead, Olive Ridley and Green turtles are considered merely Endangered, meaning they face a high probability of extinction in the near future, rather than in the immediate future as is the case for the Critically Endangered. Green turtles, so named for their green fat and prized for the lovely taste, are still harvested locally in many places, regardless of any international treaties and agreements.

By H.E. Ross

From workboat regatta challenges to soft sailing on beautiful Chalk Sound, the Turks & Caicos Maritime Heritage Federation offers visitors a way to relax and assist local children in taking a ride on their traditional Caicos Sloops.

From its inception, the Turks & Caicos Maritime Heritage Federation has had the dream of placing the hands of the older generations into the hands of the young by way of passing on the skills and traditions of this country’s sailing culture. The federation was started by sailors and boatbuilders in order that the traditional sailing skills and vessels that sustained this economy for over 300 years be preserved as a source of pride in the history of this fast developing island nation.

The popularity of the concept was supported by the business community, the local population and the government, and the organisation has maintained itself while developing cultural and educational programmes. The Maritime Heritage Federation registered as an official non-governmental organization (NGO) on January 31, 2005 and immediately started developing a primary schools programme that saw maritime history and heritage brought not only into the classroom, but brought to life for 300 sixth graders onboard traditional Caicos Sloops in the next year and a half.

It developed cultural sailing programmes that took young people and interested adults on sailing expeditions to learn the ways in which people created commerce in the “ol’ days past.” (These “good old days” ended in the mid-1980s when tourism took hold and real estate development began to boom.) A few of the sailors on Middle Caicos, North Caicos and Providenciales continued to build the hulls and change the rigging for more efficiency for the race course in place of the conching, fishing or trading needs of the past.

When the federation officially started, there were five sloops left fit for the sea. Today, there are fourteen, with four more being built. As some say here, “There are sloops being built everywhere.” Interestingly enough, the sailing workboat craze is blossoming throughout the world, not excluding the Caribbean, and the Turks & Caicos, who are on the leading edge of luxury development, are embracing this phenomenon in a way not common in this wide and separated basin of the Caribbean Sea.

Generally, cooperation between island groups is hard in coming, but the Turks & Caicos is challenging its cousin island nation of the Bahamas to a sailing workboat regatta. And, the Islands are inviting the sailing tourist to get on a sloop and race in this first-of-its-kind event.

When this concept was first approached, the leaders of our Bahamian counterpart became excited about the idea of a challenge race. The more than 50 years running out island and family island regattas were already famous and the fleets were professional in their strict preservationist rulings for their extremely tall-masted vessels. And a lot of those aboard the Bahamian Sloops were related to Turks & Caicos Islanders. But, a Turks and Caicos—Bahamas Regatta, which many talked about for years, just never happened. Logistics, money and detailed planning were the obvious barriers.

The Turks & Caicos and the Bahamas have a long related history with the Bahamas actually governing the smaller archipelago from 1799–1848 and again as an independent Crown Colony, the Turks & Caicos were under the supervision of the governor of the Bahamas from 1965–1973. There has also been a long history of people working back and forth in both countries, with a result of family relations through blood lines being strong and continuous.

One trait that seems to have passed on through both nations is the love of sailing. Most other Caribbean island nations have had to regain the knowledge of their boatbuilding and sailing skills, but neither the Bahamas nor the Turks & Caicos have ever lost their parents’ love of the sea and the glide of sails over that environment.

The islands of both the Bahamas and the Turks & Caicos comprise an area more than half the length and contain more islands and cays then the islands of the Caribbean Antilles from Cuba to Trinidad & Tobago. As with all the Caribbean islands, sailing vessels made commerce a reality. But a special place in history goes to the Turks & Caicos in the evolution of the fore and aft rig developed by the first settlers, the Bermudians, to get to their reason for settlement: the white gold of salt. Salt made the Bermuda Islands rich and it was trading salt from the Turks Islands by Bermuda Sloops that started and maintained that prosperity for over 100 years.

The designs of local sailing vessels to this day are directly related to the small craft created by those early Bermudians for both inter-island trade within the Turks & Caicos and intra-island trade with other places as far away as Jamaica and Cuba. The Bermudians settled in the Turks & Caicos in 1678 and much of their architecture remains, especially significant on the Turks Islands of Salt Cay, Grand Turk and South Caicos where the salt pans were established and the Bermudians mainly lived.

South Caicos is the site of the first official sailing workboat regatta in the Turks & Caicos in 1967, commemorating Their Majesties Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Charles’ first visit to the archipelago. The regatta, started the year after the visit, was inspired by a sail-by of a reported 30 large intra-island trading sloops. Each year since, the regatta has been held on the last weekend in May, with its 40th running to be celebrated this year. The sailing participation faltered with the introduction of beauty contests and motorboat racing, but is being revived by the South Caicos Regatta Committee and the federation, which brought five sloops to race the three races of the regatta last year.

In fact, since the federation was formed Caicos Sloop racing increased from one or two to seven races held in one year. The hopes for 2007 are for fourteen races in seven events.

For the federation, workboat sailing races are methods used to draw attention to the more important business of putting youth aboard the sloops and promoting their interest in studying the history of the development of the vessels and the reasons for their design variations. Most of the present history of the Turks & Caicos is given from the viewpoint of land-based interest. Hopefully, the youth who are involved with a constant promotion of maritime preservation will change that, encouraging the study of many other facets of the history and diasporic influences of this maritime culture.

The sailing programmes are a result of this aspect of the general mandate of the Maritime Heritage Federation. To actually learn how the vessels were used by the fishermen and traders is to live the history of the place. A further result of this slant in teaching history is the invitation for visitors to sail aboard the sloops and experience the traditional techniques in fishing conch, lobster and scale fish with traditional tools such as grains and waterglass while sculling for positioning.

Basic sailing aboard Middle Caicos Conch Sloops is being offered on peaceful and beautiful Chalk Sound, while in-reef techniques will soon be taught from Sailing Paradise in Blue Hills. Sailing Paradise is a beachfront establishment with restaurant and shops built and dedicated to the owners’ grandparents, David and Cecilia Smith. Cecilia was a sloop builder and David one of the best trading captains in Providenciales (or Blue Hills, as the locals called the island). One of the great assets of this type of attraction are the stories told by the sailors and boat builders who might not open up about the past without the incentives of a breeze and a sail.

North Caicos condominiums past and present share a common dream.

By Jody Rathgeb

Historical Photo Courtesy Karen Preikschat

Recent visitors to North Caicos might have noticed a new look on the island and interest in a type of development that takes a turn away from North Caicos’ traditional communities. You might call it “condomania.” While Providenciales has been seeing a great deal of joint-ownership resorts for some time, it is only recently that condominium developers have made a big push on North Caicos. That push has set off a development boom that includes St. Charles on Horsestable Beach, Royal Reef Resort at Sandy Point and more projects in the works.

St. Charles, a project of TCI’s Belvedere Development Ltd., plans a total of 90 condominiums. The first of its residential unit buildings opened in 2006, along with a large pool, casual outdoor restaurant and a swim-up bar. The furnished units include terra cotta tile, marble counters, television, Bose sound systems and disappearing doors. Future buildings will form a horseshoe around the pool, with service buildings located behind the beachside resort.

Meanwhile, developers Frederick Paatz and Mark Hall are building Royal Reef Resort on the island’s northwest shore. The completed project will offer 160 condominiums and a 45-suite hotel built to the standards and amenities required for an international five-star designation. Marketing materials promise three restaurants, a spa and fitness center, shops, tennis courts and other luxury amenities.

These condominium resorts are just the beginning, too. Also planned are two more by Belvedere along Horsestable Beach, and the Fairmont Three Cays near Three Marys Cays, with an opening target of 2009.

The development on North Caicos, which has been seen as a natural next step across the island chain from Providenciales, has sent real estate prices soaring. Beachfront lots are rapidly disappearing, and as the condos rise and loom over once-deserted beaches, other forms of development and infrastructure support projects expand on the “condomania”:

• At Bellefield Landing, construction of a deep water harbour is under way. The government-sponsored project should be complete by summer 2007.

• Developers Jim Gillette and Dale Piergiovanni are creating the North Caicos Yacht Club and Marina near Sandy Point, across from Parrot Cay. The project features canal-front properties for private homes and commercial outlets, plus a full-service marina. Gillette and Piergiovanni have already created several subdivisions on North Caicos: Pumpkin Bluff, Seaside and Sandcastle Estates.

• Another government project is improvement of the North Caicos Airport runway and plans for a new terminal.

• Other support and infrastructure plans include new roads and repaving; progress on a long-planned causeway to Middle Caicos; a new community center that will double as a hurricane shelter; a fire station for two trucks designated for North Caicos; and the recent opening of a branch of TCI Bank Limited.

Condominiums, however, appear to be the major element of the island’s current building boom. Why condos, rather than private homes, boutique hotels or other types of development? Walter Gardiner, past board president of the Turks & Caicos Real Estate Association, notes that the developers are following market demand, and the current demand is for condos. And like the word “condominium,” the reasons begin with “C” — cost and convenience.

Gardiner says that as property prices climb, condominiums are attractive as a way for buyers to afford an island home. Resort condominium developments increase that attractiveness by allowing the buyers to make some income from their suites when they are not in residence. Also, the idea of being part of a place run by a management company allows for stress-free visits. “The condo is more carefree, because there’s someone to look after the place when you’re gone.”

As the developers give the market what it wants, he continues, there will be a spill-off effect for other parts of the tourist industry, such as restaurants, shops and tour companies. Eventually, the spill-off will once again boost residential development as those who started out in a condo may decide to build on their own.

Ironically, North Caicos’ “new” interest in condominiums is not really so new after all. In 1982, the island saw the opening of Ocean Beach Condominiums, a 10-unit complex, by Peter Preikschat — an event that predated even the condominiums of Providenciales. “Ocean Beach is the first built condominium in the Turks & Caicos,” Preikschat recently told his daughter Karen, who now manages the complex. “It wasn’t the first registered, but it was the first built.”

Preikschat visited North Caicos for the first time in 1978, not long after the island’s first hotel, the Prospect of Whitby, was opened by Peter Prouding in 1974. Preikschat soon bought land from the Prospect with the intent of building a condominium complex. His reasoning was a combination of the cost factors that still hold good today, plus a variation on the old saw, “There’s safety in numbers,” with the idea of owners being able to pool their resources for maintenance and security. As a builder in Canada, Preikschat had some experience with condominiums, but the concept was a new one for the Islands, and among the early struggles was the effort to get the place registered and bylaws put into place.

That was by no means the only difficulty. North Caicos in those years was a very different place from what it is today. As construction on Ocean Beach began in 1981:

• Preikschat had to run a cable from the Prospect’s generator to get power; Whitby was the last of North Caicos’ communities to receive its own generator.

• Communications were accomplished only by one of four radio phones, including the “bush phone” that was “like talking through a tunnel.” Karen Preikschat recalls speaking with friends in German because otherwise there was no privacy. Only collect calls could be made.

• It took one hour to travel between the site and the airport, because the roads “looked like the moon.”

• A small diesel concrete mixer and a hand-run block machine provided materials for building. No scaffolds existed on island, so Preikschat had his crew build some from wood.

• Ships coming to the Turks & Caicos shared cargo space with the Bahamas, giving the more developed country priority. It took Preikschat three months to get his first shipment of materials to North Caicos, and then he discovered the steel for the project had been lost overboard along the way. There was only one government barge between Provo and North Caicos, and Turks Air arrived just once a week. After the hotel was running, the Preikschats used an Indian freight canoe to get groceries and other goods from Provo.

Peter Preikschat recalls that he lost 50 pounds during construction, but managed to get the first five buildings completed in 13 weeks’ time. Despite the fact that Preikschat, originally from Germany, was a Canadian, the project was a very local one. He relied on his foreman, Johnnie Misick, to handle all personnel matters, and hired local men who had the skills for tile, electrical and plumbing work. The learning curve of going “all local” went both ways. With such slim island resources, Preikschat had to learn a somewhat more improvisational way of building, and the local men were introduced to such new ideas as interior stairs and swimming pool construction.

Preikschat’s wife, Lois, and daughters Karen, Michelle and Veronica would take turns accompanying him on his trips to North Caicos, so that they could attend to his domestic needs and keep him free from having to think about laundry or cooking while plans and construction were underway. Left on their own otherwise, they learned to take advantage of local goings-on, such as impromptu music jams and dances at the schools, during their visits to the island.

The first guests arrived at Ocean Beach in 1982, and 1983 saw the hotel’s first official tourist season. Karen Preikschat, then 22, arrived to manage the place and has stayed ever since. Today, she marvels at how “easy” things seem to be for the developers of St. Charles and Royal Reef.

Those developers wouldn’t entirely agree. Indeed, the challenges they face mirror those of Peter Preikschat — primarily that of getting materials to North Caicos. It may no longer take three months to wait for a shipment, but until large ships can dock at Bellefield, developers must still cope with “tide too low” and other complications of the shippers. Indeed, what any Islander has had to cope with in daily life — no fuel on the island, maybe, or no butter or flour — is being shared by those who would create luxury spots offering reliable Internet service and fresh prosciutto on demand. When asked about their biggest challenges, Paatz, Gillette and Philip Misick, managing director of Belvedere, all replied that getting goods and materials to North Caicos is the biggest frustration.

That will most likely change when the deep water port on North Caicos is complete, but that challenge also binds past and present. And although North Caicos appears to have only recently gone “condo mondo,” on closer examination the island’s story is a circular one. Yesterday’s modest first condominium and today’s mega-buildings share a common dream of affordable, sustainable island living.

Photos By Ramona Settle

As you leave Leeward Highway behind you and round the bend onto Front Road, you’re welcomed by an awe-inspiring expanse of open sea, stretching as far as your eyes can reach, deep turquoise, and calming in its rugged beauty. For peaceful miles, only palm trees, swaying in the fresh breeze, are between you and the white sandy beach. Smart churches stand tall to your left, smells waft from restaurant shacks to your right, and life rolls by in between — a few folks sit slammin’ dominoes, chattering groups of kids return from their day at school, old salts chat about “back in the day” with laugh crinkles in their faces and a woman hangs her laundry up in the yard. You stop for a cool drink at a brightly coloured hut on the beach and the conch diver magically appears with your lunch, just as a pelican successfully swoops for his . . .

You’ve reached Blue Hills. Where island life is. Where it always was. And, we hope, where it always will be.

Somewhat forgotten over the last few years in lieu of the large-scale developments of Grace Bay, this spreading settlement hugging the northwest shore of Providenciales is undergoing a current investment revival, with local businesses and young entrepreneurs seizing the area’s previously unrealised potential. A newly elected, young and ambitious government representative is alive with ideas to empower the people of Blue Hills and is excited about making it the place to be. Restaurants, bars and craft shops are emerging on the long sandy beach, crowds flock to a popular annual festival celebrating the all-pervading conch and the once pot-holed bumpy road is now a smooth tarmac dream.

For those businesses setting up here, as well as for many old favourites already established, the vision for Blue Hills is as a visitor destination in distinct contrast to Providenciales’ popular tourist quarter of Grace Bay. Their visions for “Northside” are for the blending of tourism with a living, breathing local community, the one complementing the other to sustain island life.

Blue Hills was, not that many years ago, the commercial centre of the island we now know as Providenciales and, some say, the former name for the whole island. For many years it was home to the only primary school, the only government medical clinic, and, key to its spotlight as the “capital” of the island, the government dock. Before airports, gas stations and supermarkets arrived in the Turks & Caicos Islands, life centred on the sea, and Blue Hills was where trade routes started and finished — the gateway to the island’s rich maritime heritage.

“It used to be a little quiet town, a fishing centre — growing up that’s what it was,” remembers Sherlock Walkin, who was born in Blue Hills in 1958, when the population stood at roughly 1,500. “When you’d go down Blue Hills all you’d see was sailboats. All the way from High Rock, by the government jetty, up to where Smokeys on the Beach is now and past there, all the way up. Big sail sloops. All from here. That’s all you’d see.”

The sloops, with designs specific to the Turks & Caicos Islands, would sometimes reach 60 feet in length. Hand-built by crafted boat-builders from Blue Hills, often from hardwood flotsam, these sloops were the lifeblood of the island and, according to some, the whole archipelago. “We’d even supply Grand Turk (the nation’s capital) really because they didn’t have any big boats like here. Here was much more a provider for the rest of the Islands,” explains 77-year-old Hilly Ewing, himself a former boatbuilder, captain and a man synonymous with Blue Hills after almost 40 years as the area’s government representative.

Men would sail out of the harbour in their sloops, carrying smaller dinghies along to dive for conch, often to West Caicos and French Cay, sometimes staying away for weeks at a time. The conch they collected would be dried, they would return to the harbour, and then leave again with their wares on voyages to neighbouring island nations, such as Haiti and the Bahamas, to trade their island produce for other foodstuffs and materials.

When the sloops would return from their long voyages, the excitement, Sherlock Walkin reminisces, was tangible. “It would be like Christmas Day,” he smiles. “Everybody would be out when the sloops were coming in that day. Food was coming — mmm . . . I remember the mangoes, the pineapples, the bananas. They used to throw some of the stuff off the boat into the water and we little kids used to rush in and dive it up.”

Up to 25 years ago, scenes like this were still the norm. Kevin “Babar” Harvey, born in 1970, remembers fondly the days when his grandfather would return on one of the sloops from Haiti with fruit, livestock and even the odd live cow. “Say the boats was to come that night, we’d automatically know there was no school that day. The whole entire school would come out here on the beach, the whole entire island sometimes. Because we would’ve been out of sugar, flour, for like two months so everybody would come, even from the Bight and Five Cays, to get what comes on the boat for them,” he remembers.

Babar is a one of the new entrepreneurs in Blue Hills and the creative spirit behind Sailing Paradise Restaurant & Lounge, located at the far end of Blue Hills, where the area called Wheeland starts. A family-owned and operated business, this collection of brightly coloured huts raised above the beach so far encompasses a restaurant and bar, craft shops, and an ice-cream parlour. It is the end result of a dream that began many years ago and is dedicated to Babar’s grandparents — Cecilia and David Smith — whom he grew up with, their faces featuring in a mural above the bar. It combines a skill (carpentry), a passion (sailing) and a vision (cultural tourism).

Babar and his father built the structure with their bare hands, Babar having learnt carpentry from his grandmother when he was only a little boy. “When I was nine years old my grandmother gave me my first plane, so I planed and planed, and we practically planed down all the tables, chairs and everything else in the house,” he laughs. He speaks of his grandmother Cecilia with immense fondness. She was an inimitable woman, and the only one known to have been actively involved in the local boat-building trade. “It was fun to see her bending the plank around,” says Babar’s aunt, Alice.

Babar has replicas of two boats built by Cecilia and her husband David moored in front of Sailing Paradise — DC (for David and Cecilia) Valley Stream Junior and DC Evergreen Junior. Valley Stream was a 28-foot sloop built by Cecilia Smith in the 1960s. It would travel to South Caicos and Grand Turk, taking fresh conch, sweet potatoes and corn grown on the family farm in Northwest Point and bringing back flour, sugar, shortening, salt beef and material for clothes-making. The larger sloop at 40 feet — Evergreen — would make the journey to Haiti to trade dried conch and dried fish.

Babar launched the boats in 2006, having commissioned them to be built by two local boat-builders — James Dean and Reverend Goldston Williams. Although he enjoys racing and cruising when he has a chance, his plans for the boats were originally with tourism in mind. His vision is for tourists to visit Sailing Paradise for a full local cultural experience. “I want to have daily trip for tourists — go for a sail, maybe fish a little, then return for some local food, some conch fritters or conch salad,” he enthuses. “Then I want to have days where there is local interaction with tourists, to hear stories and learn about our history, play dominoes, relax.”

Babar also has plans to bring the local boatbuilding trade back into the forefront of the area. Although there are boats being built in Blue Hills today (and the trade is on the upturn courtesy of the Turks & Caicos Maritime Heritage Federation, a recently established charity), all of the work takes place in the builders’ yards, hidden. He plans to build workshops next to Sailing Paradise where visitors can see the few boat-builders left on the island showing off this diminishing craft, and children can learn this precious trade before it disappears. And, of course, he wants to see regular regattas, to see the sea full of sloops again.

A little way down the beach, the Middle Caicos Co-op, an arts and crafts centre, does bring sails out on the water occasionally — of the slightly smaller kind. Located in a picturesque building with purple flowering bougainvillaea and a white picket fence, this non-profit organisation holds a model boat club every Saturday, and encourages visitors to join in this traditional pastime. It also sells traditional high-quality straw-work made by the women of Middle Caicos. The co-op moved to Blue Hills recently from an outlet further inland, and the move, say those involved, has been a successful one.

Local businesswoman Arlene Jennings also made the decision to move to Blue Hills last year. She sold her former restaurant in Grace Bay and opened Horse-Eye Jack’s Bar & Grill on the wide beach at the eastern end of Blue Hills. Arlene says that moving to this area of Providenciales is “actually one of the best choices I’ve made in any business!”

Horse-Eye Jack’s is unique to Blue Hills in its use of palm-thatched open-air roofs, or “palapas” for cover. This traditional palm thatching was chosen, says Arlene, to enhance the concept of a laid back place “where you can come, meet people, kick off your shoes and relax with a cold drink and an amazing view of the ocean.” “Palapas represent the barefoot side of an island,” she says, “and we are conscious of the fact that we are in the local part of the island, and want to keep the island flavour. It’s how people used to build in the past.” The idea of Horse-Eye Jack’s is also to provide a fun open space in Blue Hills for children to play — to get them back on the beach and in the water.

Those who grew up in Blue Hills “back in the day” remember spending most of their free time on the beach and in the water — fishing, beachcombing. “Them used to be fun days you know. Any chance I had I’d go out fishin’. We used to wait on weekends to use the little dinghy boats, to go out in the harbour, catch fish and conch. When I was 10 years old I could pick up an oar and scull a boat,” Sherlock Walkin remembers fondly. “And we used to go down the beach on Saturdays and find lots of little toys and stuff.”

Set off the road and boasting the largest deck and open-air space on the island, Horse-Eye Jack’s is an ideal space for children to be free again, and safe. Arlene is bringing in toys for kids to play with on the beach, and plans to set up a small crèche so parents will be able to relax too. Babar also has some smaller dinghies for sculling planned for Sailing Paradise.

A former Blue Hills institution is also due to return to the beach soon. Berlie “Bugaloo” Williams was the first to open a commercial conch shack in Blue Hills in 1994. It was a basic place, but word got around about the food and the personality and before long, the place was a popular tourist hangout. Bugaloo is pleased that Blue Hills’ potential is now being realised and is looking forward to being back as part of its revival. His restaurant concept has not changed. “The idea is finger food on cellophane paper. Island style,” he says. “We’ll have two or three people just diving conch by the shack. It’ll be like a show almost. Customers can have it cooked the way they like it. They can even do it themselves!”

Another established businessman in Blue Hills, Alden “Smokey” Smith, is taking advantage of the area’s current growth to expand his popular restaurant business to the beach. Smokeys on da Bay has been in its current location just past the jetty for almost ten years. With many loyal customers, they come, says one, “for good food, good conversation, to shoot the breeze.” Now Smokey has decided to open a second restaurant and bar directly on the beach, just past Sailing Paradise. Smokeys on the Beach II (in homage to the first-ever in pre-developed Grace Bay) will provide an alternative open-air dining experience with additional sports bar facilities. “The time is ripe to upgrade and give our customers more of a choice,” says Smokey.

Arlene is keen to point out that keeping variety in these new ventures is the key to Blue Hills’ continued revival. “The more different things there are to do and try and see in Blue Hills, the more tourists will come for the day, and return another day,” she explains. So one day you can experience some jerk chicken at Horse-Eye Jack’s, then move next door to Da Conch Shack (dedicated to this tasty mollusc) to relax right on the beach, the sand between your toes, then another day you can stop off at Smokeys on the Beach for his famous Bean Soup and listen to the folks talk politics, then go for a sail at Sailing Paradise and savour some fresh grilled fish, topping it all off with your own choice of conch dish courtesy of Bugaloo . . .

Blue Hills is coming into its own again, with its distinct character so far preserved as new businesses open along its shore. They are aware of where they are, and are serving the laidback island vibe with a spoonful of culture and a sprinkling of history.

Blue Hills’ recently elected representative, Gregory Lightbourne, is filled with energy about his appointment at a time of such burgeoning revival. He is pleased with the way development on the beachfront is progressing and sees the water as key to continued success, planning to promote watersports as one of the main attractions in the near future. There will be windsurfing, kitesurfing, sailing, and, of course, traditional sloop races — all in Blue Hills. With a clean-up plan and a little more organisation, business opportunities will be bountiful within the community, and Greg is impatient to see the people prosper, development continue and the tourists flow in.

Greg, born in 1976, is following in his grandfather’s footsteps. Gustarvus Lightbourne OBE, who raised Greg with his wife Kathleen, was a popular prominent local politician. Gustarvus played an integral role in the political and economic development of the island during his long life and was also a renowned boat-builder and avid sailor. Blue Hills, with its culture and history, is firmly in the Lightbourne blood. “What makes Blue Hills special is its location, its rich history and its welcoming community,” says Greg, proud of his home. His vision is big: “It’s going to become the capital again, become the breadwinner of Provo, you know.”

Perhaps it will be. The timing is right and nature has helped. The beach has widened on the north shore of Providenciales and, where you sit sipping your drink now, residents remember there was sea before. And when there was “grand sea,” the waves would come up over Front Road. Maybe this helps. Maybe this adds to the ambience of a community where the sea once was its survival, and where it is progressively becoming its focus again.

Arlene Jennings is confident. “Two years from now, Blue Hills will be the place that tourists want to visit as soon as they hit the island. Because it is real.”

The Gecko Bus connects Grace Bay and Blue Hills – call 649 232 7433 for current timetable.