By Betsy Carlson and Bill Keegan

Life on an island is just not possible without boats. The history of the Turks & Caicos, both prehistorically and historically, is linked to the ability to build boats and navigate the oceans successfully.

Not just anybody can go out and colonize an isolated, oceanic island. The most important factor is the colonizer’s voyaging ability, which is not always linked to how accessible oceanic islands may be to a population. Madagascar lies just off the coast of Africa but was colonized by people from Indonesia. Other prerequisites to successfully colonize islands include horticulture, a marine economy, a material culture that uses shell as a major raw resource, and the ability to change the island’s resource base by introducing plants, animals, and assets through exchange. Since 500 B.C., all West Indian cultures have met each of these requirements.

In the West Indies, the direction of colonization followed the direction of the currents. The south equatorial current flows north from the Venezuelan coast up the Windward Islands. As it reaches the Leeward Islands it is eclipsed by the north equatorial current, which flows westward past the Leewards, paralleling the northern coasts of the Greater Antilles. The distances between the islands are not great, and once the 120 km gap between Trinidad and Grenada was bridged, every other volcanic island was intervisible from the next with distances of less than 50 km. There was no fear of not finding the way home after setting out to investigate a new island.

Once you can navigate well, you possess the maritime skills to sail past one island to reach a better one. Thus, accessibility fails to be a determining factor. In the Pacific, where the distances between islands are much greater, colonization occurred in quite the opposite way Ñ here, navigators sailed against the currents when exploring in order to ensure their ability to return home.

The ability to supplement the natural resources of an island with domesticated foods substantially reduces the risks involved in island settlements. When the Polynesians colonized a new island, they brought taro, sweet potato, fruit trees, and domesticated pigs and chickens. In the West Indies, in addition to root crops and some fruit trees, the colonizers brought with them dogs and small mammals such as guinea pigs for food. They also transported West Indian species, such as hutias (a large rodent) and rails (a ground bird, some species of which are flightless), from one island to another. Sweet potato may have been a key ingredient in island colonization by horticulturists because it produces an edible crop in two months or less, quickly establishing a reliable food base. The Taino were known to plant uninhabited islands with the root crop manioc, but never settle the island, creating food stocks for voyagers or for times of shortage.

The Turks & Caicos Islands were first colonized about A.D. 600 by pre-Taino peoples coming from Hispaniola. So, how did the navigators of Hispaniola stumble upon Grand Turk first? As you head north from the coast of the Dominican Republic, you encounter within 40 miles a series of shallow banks – the Navidad, the Silver and the Mouchoir. They are submerged between 5 and 16 m today.

These shallow banks may have given the appearance of islands on the horizon by virtue of their aquamarine color, and the banks themselves could have attracted fishermen to their abundant marine resources. If voyagers from Hispaniola explored this line of banks looking for dry land, they would have been led straight to the Turks Islands. Grand Turk is the largest island on this bank, and the only that could have supported a population.

The northwesterly Antillean current flows from Puerto Rico toward the Turks & Caicos Islands, eventually joining the Gulf Stream. This, in association with the tradewinds, which blow east to west, would promote drift voyaging in the northwest direction, making voyaging from eastern Hispaniola to the Turks easy, but return voyaging more difficult.

The navigators of the Caribbean were not, however, at the mercy of the winds and currents of the region. The winds blow east to west in the summer and more northeast to southwest in the winter. All maritime cultures have a vast understanding of winds and weather systems. The Spanish recorded just one Taino word for wind, huracan, which described fierce winds, and is the source for our word hurricane. The language of the modern Miskito Indians of coastal Nicaragua has 25 words to describe types of winds. For the Miskito, the dry season, when tradewinds are less intense and no unexpected squalls or storms occur, is the time of the long distance journey. For the Turks & Caicos, February through April, with multiple day-long intervals of still weather, are the driest months and perhaps the best time for long distance travels. At the Governor Beach site on Grand Turk, where people from Haiti came to make shell beads, all of the clam shells were harvested during this season. This suggests that they, too, recognized this time period as the best time to travel over open waters.

Besides the ability to navigate well, the key technology for any complex island society is advanced water transport consisting of sophisticated ocean-going vessels that can carry large cargo loads and travel long distances. Large canoes allow for the distribution of wealth and the amassing of populations for military and ceremonial events.

The Taino possessed canoes of various sizes and proportions for different activities. Small canoes may have been individually owned, but some larger, special-purpose canoes could have been shared by a community and had restricted access. Because of this, the most important factor in choosing a settlement was access to the open ocean. They needed launching and beaching places for their large canoes.

The dugout canoes (canoa) constructed by the Taino were made from the trunk of a single large tree (maca), although the sides may have been built up with planks to allow for construction of very large vessels. The chroniclers of the contact period described immense canoes for the Taino. Las Casas said the canoes in Cuba were 20 m long, and Columbus reported seeing very large canoes under sheds on the coast of Cuba. Oviedo wrote that the boats had cotton sails, but this is generally not believed to be a pre-Columbian trait.

The Island Caribs in the 17th century did have boats with sails (called piraguas), but again this was likely due to European influence. Today, the tradition of hand-crafted boats is best seen in Haiti where types of boats range from rafts to dugouts to sloops. The Taino had a word for a flat boat with no keel that may have resembled a raft (called Cayuco).

Las Casas noted that the Mona Passage between Hispaniola and Puerto Rico was the site of daily voyages, and thus culturally more closely linked than eastern and western Hispaniola. So, the primary movement of people and goods in the Greater Antilles was between water passages, not within an island’s landmass. The Taino maintained “gateway communities” such as MC-6 on Middle Caicos, which allied far-reaching political territories and greatly increased trade opportunities. This is evidence that the Taino were voyagers and were not isolated on their separate islands. The Taino word for small island was cay. Similarly, the word for the passage between small islands was cayo. The similar word caico means outer island in the Taino language.

We have no preserved Taino canoes from the Turks & Caicos, although the Turks & Caicos National Museum houses a Taino canoe paddle (nahe in Taino) found in the peat sediments of North Creek on Grand Turk. This paddle is nearly identical to one found on Mores Island (Little Bahama Bank) in the Bahamas. Las Casas described Taino paddles “like long handled bakers’ shovels, but sharp.” The Mores paddle was first described in 1913 by Theodore DeBooy and remains the only other prehistoric paddle known from the Bahamas archipelago.

The Grand Turk paddle was carved from a single piece of bullwood (Pera bumeliifolia), a native to Cuba, Hispaniola, and the northern Bahamas. This species is not known from the Turks & Caicos Islands today. The paddle may have been carved in Hispaniola and lost after working its way to Grand Turk along with the early inhabitants of Grand Turk. The wood was radiocarbon dated and provided a calibrated age range of A.D. 995-1125, centuries after Grand Turk was first colonized. This suggests that people sailed between Hispaniola and the Turks & Caicos Islands regularly and for many centuries.

The cultural history of the Turks & Caicos Islands includes occupations by Tainos, Bermudians, Loyalists, and Post-Emancipation period Africans who were formerly enslaved to work in the salt and cotton industries in these islands. What these cultures had in common was the island environment. All these people had to make a living from the sea and their lives were intimately tied to boat technology. There is one indelible reminder of this in the history of the Turks & Caicos – the boat images scratched into the plaster of ruinous plantation houses throughout the Islands.

Etchings of sailing vessels have been found throughout the Bahamas and have been reported on plantation ruins from New Providence, Crooked Island, and San Salvador as well as Middle and North Caicos and Providenciales. Laurie Wilkie and Paul Farnsworth, who have worked on plantations throughout this region, argue that ship imagery is an important symbol in many contexts throughout the African Diaspora and link the drawings to the late enslavement period or post-Emancipation (ca. 1820Ð1900).

In many cases, when the Turks & Caicos Loyalist plantations were abandoned, the former slaves of the plantations were left in the Islands. They took residence in their former slave houses and plantation houses. The ship imagery in the ruins lends itself to a feeling of isolation, which we can imagine reflects what the freed slaves may have felt in these surroundings. Eventually, people congregated in small villages rather than live in isolation on the former plantations and they turned to the sea to form a maritime rather than a primarily agricultural economy.

The etchings contain an amazing amount of detail – so much so that the specific type of boats depicted can be deciphered. The most common wooden boats of the time were a small ketch, single mast sloops, and schooners. A schooner has two or more masts and “fore and aft” rigging, which means the sails run with the long axis of the boat. Bahamian schooners could be up to 50 feet long and carry 20 men. A two-masted schooner is shown in the etching from a Turks & Caicos plantation ruin, along with fragments of two other boats. As can be seen in the photograph and the line drawing, the ship likely had topsails, as is indicated by several horizontal lines near the top of the masts. All three ships have sprits extending off the bow with indications of multiple jib sails. The complete etching appears to have three jibs. Also illustrated are the fore sail (in the center of the ship) and the main sail (at the stern end of the ship).

The people making these drawings had intimate knowledge of the workings of sailing vessels. The commonness with which these images are found throughout these islands and the detail they show reinforces the bond all inhabitants of the Bahamas archipelago had with the sea. It is this tie to the ocean environment that links all the prior residents of these islands as one.

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

To the Taino, the Spaniards were much worse than man-eaters.

By Bill Keegan and Betsy Carlson

And they say that this cacique affirmed that he has spoken with Giocauaghama [the chief god] who had told him that whoever remained alive after his death should enjoy the rule over them only a short time, because they would see in their country a people clothed which was to rule them and to slay them and that they would die of hunger. At first they thought these would be the Canibales; but reflecting that they only plundered and fled they believed that it must be another people that the cem’ spoke of. Wherefore they now believe that it was the Admiral [Columbus] and the people he brought with them. Ram—n PanŽ, 1496.

PanŽ’s account illustrates just how quickly Taino attitudes changed. In the diario of his first voyage, Columbus reported that the Tainos thought that he was a Canibale. The fact that he took people aboard his ships and they never returned; that he was clothed and had exotic vessels and weapons, convinced them that he had arrived from some supernatural realm. The Tainos soon realized their mistake when Columbus established a permanent colony. Supernatural beings may arrive from time to time, but they do not settle permanently in the land of the living. The Spaniards were something much worse than cannibals.

Caribbean cannibalism is a complicated issue. On the one hand we need to consider the actual beliefs and practices of the Tainos. On the other we need to deal with the prevailing attitudes in Europe at the time. Let’s start with the Europeans.

As anthropologist Neil Whitehead noted, the focus on cannibalism reflects the “European pre-occupation with this subject, still evident today, rather than its overall sociological significance for Carib peoples.” Indeed, there were a number of extracts from human flesh and bone that were used as “medicines” in 16th century Europe. It is reported that spectators would arrive at public executions carrying cups with which to collect and drink the still warm blood of the person who was executed. These forms of cannibalism were more alive in Europe than they were in the native Caribbean. Anyone really interested in the European fascination with cannibals should read the essays of Michel Eyquem de Montaigne that were first published in 1580 (The Essays of Montaigne, trans. J. Florino, 3 vols. AMS press, New York, 1967).

The issue of cannibalism can be pushed back even farther. In the fifth century BC, the Greek philosopher/historian Herodotus invented a dialogue between a person from the city and one from the country. In this urban/rural conversation, the city dweller is appalled that the rural folk cremate the dead and then consume the ashes of the deceased. In response, the representative of the rural folk is equally appalled that people in the city bury their dead where they are subject to any number of degradations by the creatures that inhabit the soil. The rural perspective is that consuming the remains of their fathers is a far more respectable treatment of the dead than burying them in the ground.

More recently, James Michener (Caribbean, 1988) used the notion of “peaceful Arawaks” (Tainos) and “warlike (cannibal) Caribs” as a literary device to portray the battle between good and evil in the West Indies. In addition, some historians have suggested that the reason the Turks & Caicos Islands, along with the rest of the Bahamas, were first settled was because these people were fleeing the Carib “cannibals” who supposedly were attacking the islands of the Greater Antilles. The Caribs lived in the Lesser Antilles chain as far north as Guadeloupe at the time of Columbus. They are called Island Caribs to distinguish them from related mainland South American groups.

The Island Caribs survived centuries longer than the Taino and most of what we know about them comes from later European descriptions, especially those of Breton (1647). The Island Caribs of the mid-17th century called themselves Kalina or Karina, which translated as “manioc eaters.” Surprisingly, the Island Caribs are for the most part archaeologically invisible. Based on the available evidence, two proposals have been put forward. The first suggests that Carib peoples from South America began colonizing the southern Lesser Antilles just prior to Columbus’ first voyage (around AD 1450). The second proposes that the peoples who already were living in these islands adopted trappings of Kalina culture (from the Guianas) as a reflection of their strong association with these people. We lack the evidence to decide which is correct. If the Caribs did arrive in the 15th century, they cannot be blamed for forcing people to settle the Bahama archipelago; an event that happened seven centuries earlier.

The fierce reputation of the Island Caribs comes partially from the fact that they resisted the European invasion. In this regard they exhibited remarkable political acumen. When a French colony was established on their island, they would go to the British and suggest an alliance for the purpose of removing these French colonists from their island. When the French were removed, and a British colony established, they would go to the French to help them eliminate the British. This strategy was successful until the British and French reached accommodation in the Treaty of Versailles. The last of the Island Caribs were then rounded up and shipped to Central America.

So where does the notion of cannibalism in the Caribbean come from, and why were the Spanish so anxious to apply it? There are no firsthand accounts or other evidence that the Caribs ever consumed human flesh (anthropaphagy). Yet Oviedo (1527) described the Caribs as follows: “The bow-using Caribs . . . eat human flesh. They eat all the men that they kill and use the women they capture and the children that they bear, if any Carib should couple with them, are also eaten. The boys that they take . . . are castrated, fattened and eaten.” Despite this sort of propaganda and the modern popular culture images of bodies being boiled in large cooking pots, the notion of eating your enemy has always been more an emblem of ferocity than an actual practice, and this is true universally. The Spanish came to associate all fierce people with the name Carib, which reflects the translation of the Taino word, and the name “Carib” appears on European produced maps of other territories including the Philippines.

Columbus first heard the rumour of Caribes and Canibales while sailing along the north coast of Cuba during his first voyage. During his sojourn in the Baie de l’Acul, on the north coast of Haiti, Columbus recorded that the highest mountain was known locally as Mount Caribata. It is likely that he never would have focused on these names if he had not been looking for the Grand Khan of Cathay (China). He admits that his ability to communicate with the native peoples of the islands was limited, but he tells us in his diario (daily log) that he asked for the whereabouts of the Canima or Caniba, which to him meant the people of the Grand Khan. The information available to Columbus was woefully out of date. The Ming Dynasty had expelled the Mongols and their Grand Khan from China about 300 years earlier. Nevertheless, it is easy to see how Canima or Caniba was easily confused with Caribe and Canibale, especially when neither party spoke a mutually intelligible language.

That Caniba and Canibale were one and the same made sense to Columbus because the Tainos said the Canibales wore clothing (in contrast to the naked Tainos) and bore arms. In his mind, the Canibales were representatives of the Grand Khan who ruled over the simple island folk he had so far encountered. The Asian mainland had to be only be a short distance away (after first thinking Cuba was the mainland, he later decided it must be Cipango [Japan]). At what point Columbus realized that he had reached a “New World,” and not the islands off the coast of Asia, remains an open question.

Columbus believed that the Caribes were the enemies of the Tainos, and he promised to defend them against this enemy. Yet the fact that Columbus first heard of these people in Cuba, and the people who came to be known as Caribs lived far to the south, suggests that for the Tainos the name was not associated with living peoples. The fact that the Tainos at first identified Columbus as a Canibale brings this distinction into sharper relief. If Columbus was a Canibale, then the Tainos must have lacked a corporeal knowledge of such beings.

On several occasions in his diario Columbus described the physical attributes of the Caribe/Canibale. They were described to him as “one-eyed men, and others, with the snouts of dogs, who ate men.” What Columbus described are gods in the Taino pantheon who are associated with the world of the dead. Like the ancient Egyptians, the dog god (Opiyelguobir‡n) guarded the world of the dead and carried their spirits into the afterlife. The Taino notion of “eating men” can be interpreted as reflecting what happens after someone dies. Although their body remains intact, their spirit was consumed and carried over into the afterlife. In this regard it was not the actual consumption of human flesh, but rather the spiritual eating of the life force.

When Columbus encountered hostile natives in the Bay of Arrows (on the Saman‡ Peninsula of the Dominican Republic) on his first voyage, and on his second voyage on Guadeloupe and St. Croix, he concluded that these people must be Canibales/Caribes. In his mind, because they attacked him, they had to be the enemies the Tainos spoke about. Yet history is fraught with twists and turns. The peoples of the eastern Dominican Republic and St. Croix did attack the Spanish, but they were not Caribs, although the people in he encountered in Guadeloupe may have been.

Columbus repeatedly told the King and Queen of Spain that there were vast riches to be obtained from his enterprise of the Indies. Yet he continually asked for additional support from the Crown. When the promised riches failed to materialize, Columbus decided that enslaving the native peoples and sending them to Spain was a way to finance his colony. To their credit, the Spanish sovereigns returned the survivors of the first shipment of slaves back to Hispaniola, and they instructed Columbus to treat the native peoples as their vassals. In other words, they were to be given proper treatment, paid proper wages for their service, and converted to Christianity. These instructions were largely ignored, and the Taino population of Hispaniola rapidly declined.

Faced with a significant shortage of native labor the Spanish colonists devised a new strategy. They told the Spanish monarchs that there were native peoples, known as Caribes or Canibales, who ate human flesh and refused conversion. In response, Queen Isabel proclaimed in 1503 that these “cannibals” could be enslaved. Suddenly, all of the native peoples of the islands were cannibals. This may explain why the Turks & Caicos and Bahamas came to be known as the “Islands of Devils” and were the first to be entirely depopulated from slave raiding. Spanish predation, mistreatment, famine, and the introduction of diseases to which the local peoples had no immunities quickly led to the collapse of the Taino peoples. Within 20 years of Columbus’ first voyage, enslaved Africans were being imported to Hispaniola as laborers.

Were there cannibals (people who ate human flesh) in the Caribbean when Europeans arrived? Probably not. The Taino notion of Canibales reflects their belief in what happened to the spirits of people after they died. The Island Caribs, and others, who resisted the Spanish invasion, were characterized as cannibals in order to justify their enslavement. There is no evidence that native West Indians consumed human flesh as a part of their normal diet, although the ritual consumption of cremated remains (endocannibalism) cannot be rejected. However, mixing the ashes of your parents in a drink is far less troubling to us than what was happening in Europe at the same time.

The notion of cannibals may be the product of Spanish misconceptions. However, during your visit to the Cannibal (oops, Caribbean) Islands it is best to play it safe. Have a long talk with your waiter before you order the souse or steak-and-kidney pie!

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

By Brian Riggs, Curator, National Environmental Centre

Photos By Tatum Fisher, Science Officer, DECR

Many observant scuba divers have noticed and reported to the Department of Environment & Coastal Resources (DECR) an apparent increase in the amount of coral bleaching on Turks & Caicos reefs. These reports reached their peak last October and correlate well with information from throughout the Caribbean and the rest of the world in late 2005.

What is bleaching?

Coral bleaching is caused by a variety of stresses, most notably increased sea surface temperatures. This causes the corals to expel the symbiotic algaes that live within their tissues. These tiny algae provide coral polyps with much of their food and also determine the greenish and brownish colors that we associate with living reefs. Losing their algae leaves coral tissues devoid of color, thus appearing to be bleached.

Prolonged coral bleaching (over a month) can lead to the death of the polyps and the subsequent loss of coral reef habitats for a range of marine life. As the water cools, though, corals can re-acquire their symbiotic algae and recover from the bleaching as long as they are not further stressed by other factors like pollution or disease. High temperatures for a longer period will kill the corals outright. Recovery may take decades, but only if conditions remain favorable.

Pan Caribbean event

This is the second major worldwide coral bleaching event in the past decade. The high ocean temperatures that accompanied the 1997-98 El Ni–o period bleached coral reefs in more than 50 tropical countries. The 2005 ocean warming event affected even more. Last Fall’s ocean temperatures throughout the Caribbean were the highest recorded since satellite monitoring began over 20 years ago. And the temperatures stayed higher for longer than any previous temperature spike. As much as 90% of some corals were bleached in parts of the Lesser Antilles, most notably the Virgin Islands. And as temperatures remained high for weeks, the weakened polyps were attacked by diseases, leading to massive die-offs. As of March 2006, 1/3 of corals at monitoring stations in the U.S. Virgin Islands had died.

Almost yearly bleaching events have occurred for the past several decades, but have generally been limited to certain coral species in shallow water. In 2005, bleaching struck far more of the Caribbean region and affected corals of many different species in all depths. But the Caribbean is much better off than areas of the Pacific and Indian Oceans where mortality rates have been in the 90% range for the past several years.

In the Turks & Caicos Islands, we missed the worst of the 2005 bleaching event, but still DECR on-site monitoring has reported that as much as 70% of our reef areas have been affected with partial bleaching of several important reef building species. No major die-offs have been reported or found and it has been noted that our reefs have generally been able to recover over the cooler winter months.

Australia, in the southern hemisphere, where the hottest months are January through April, has recently reported massive bleaching comparable to last year’s.

Global warming and other culprits

Most marine scientists agree that the main agent at work in these ever-more-serious bleaching events is global warming and that the evidence is overwhelming. “This is probably a harbinger of things to come,” says John Rollino, chief scientist for the Bahamian Reef Survey Project. “Coral bleaching is more a symptom of disease – widespread global environmental degradation . . .”

But global warming is not the only culprit in the decline of corals worldwide. Researchers at the University of Florida, after surveying archeological and historical records that span the past 500 years, have postulated that reef degradation actually began with human exploitation of tropical coastal areas. Overfishing, especially of the large and easy to catch herbivores like green turtles and parrotfish, and predators like sharks and groupers, seriously depleted fish stocks long before the first European colonists arrived. Grand Turk’s early pre-Columbian site, GT-2, is littered with the bones of large turtles and predator fish. Other sites in the TCI, Haiti and the Bahamas show a decline in the sizes of faunal remains and number of species over their periods of occupation.

Worldwide, these declines have occurred over differing lengths of time and are more advanced in some places than others. In regions where the process is most advanced, such as Jamaica, corals are dead or dying, the remaining fish are small, few other organisms like shellfish or urchins exist and reef structures are coated with algae. What had been a vibrant and exuberant reef ecosystem is gone, probably forever.

There may be other, less obvious, causes for concern, as well. While we recognize that carbon dioxide, a greenhouse gas found in auto and factory emissions, is probably a factor in the process of global warming, it is also causing our ocean waters to become more acidic.

If you remember your high school chemistry lessons, carbon dioxide mixed with water forms a weak acid called carbonic acid. And acids, as we know, dissolve base (or alkaline) substances. Ocean waters are slightly alkaline, about 8.2 on the pH scale, due to the vast amounts of minerals dissolved in them. Ocean creatures, especially crustaceans (like lobsters, shrimps and crabs), mollusks (like conch and all other shellfish) and corals (both hard and soft), extract these minerals from the seawater to build their skeletons and their homes.

But the huge amounts of carbon dioxide being released into the atmosphere, and subsequently being dissolved in the sea, in recent decades is making seawater less and less alkaline over time. When seawater falls to a pH level below about 7.2, sea creatures will not be able to build up or repair their shells. Some hardier animals might be able to maintain their shells but would be unable to reproduce. Not only would this affect shellfish populations, but it would also be bad news for the many larger animals that feed on these shelled creatures. Populations of many carnivorous creatures like salmon, mackerel, cod, most rays and even baleen whales feed on shellfish and small crustaceans.

Added to these newly recognized concerns is, of course, the ongoing problem of pollution. Many localities have been able to make remarkable progress in diminishing and eradicating pollution sources, but water-borne pollution, whether from agricultural runoff, sewage disposal or shipping mishaps, is still a threat to reefs in areas with large coastal populations. Not only do these influxes of toxins and organic chemicals kill reef denizens outright, they also weaken the few that can survive. Already stressed corals and reef animals will have an even harder task trying to survive the yearly bleaching events and predicted seawater acidification in the upcoming decades.

Good news

It may be a bit of a stretch, but there are a few small rays of hope for coral reefs among all the disappointing bulletins. Researchers from the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency and the Nature Conservancy have found a few mitigating factors that help some corals to survive even the most serious bleaching events.

Two geographical features that apparently help to mitigate reef damage from the higher sea surface temperatures that cause bleaching are at work right here in the Turks & Caicos Islands. For instance, shallow water corals that are located near areas of cold water upwellings are more likely to survive when water temperatures on the reef reach critically high temperatures. Colder water from the depths, like those that surround our banks, can regularly and rapidly replace the sun- warmed surface waters, lowering temperatures quickly.

In addition, the researchers found that corals that are regularly exposed at low tides may also be more tolerant of heat stress than those that are constantly submerged in shallow water. Areas in the TCI like the shallow reefs around Gibbs and Round Cay and the tidally exposed reef flats of the Southwest Reef at West Caicos suffered minimal bleaching and have, by early spring, fully recovered.

And of course, higher sea surface temperatures worldwide may actually be a boon to coral reefs that are growing in chillier waters like Bermuda and northern Florida, allowing reefs there to expand and possibly colonize new areas.

Working for the future

Starting this summer, the Department of Environment & Coastal Resources will begin formulating a management and mitigation plan to come to the aid of our own important coral reefs. Utilizing the coral monitoring data from the past two decades and research from other organizations, the DECR will develop a strategy for coral reef restoration as a national priority, examining those technologies that allow corals to grow faster and to increase their survival rate in high temperatures (artificial reefs, transplantation and the new electrical/mineral accretion process). Along with our ongoing work in pollution abatement and sustainable fishing techniques, our glorious reefs may have a fighting chance after all.

The “Nation’s Bank” makes its debut.

By John H.R. Benjamin, Managing Director, TCI Bank Limited

Photos By Steve Passmore, Provo Pictures

The establishment of a Turks & Caicos home-grown bank has long been a dream of many Belongers. Now a reality, TCI Bank Limited (TCIB) is primed for success, based on three solid pillars: the bank’s affiliation with the indigenous banks of the Eastern Caribbean, its obsession with continuously making the best service better, and the loyal following of delighted customers and other stakeholders who broadcast the benefits of doing business with TCIB.

Background

TCI Bank Limited (TCIB), the first indigenous bank established in the Turks & Caicos Islands, blossomed out of an idea germinated by Madeline (Pat) Potter and nurtured into existence by ABI Bank Limited of Antigua, its main promoter. It was Mrs. Potter, a native of Grand Turk, who in 2004 persuaded ABI Bank to underwrite the cost of setting up the bank.

Contrary to the mistaken belief that TCIB is government-owned, the TCI Government has no ownership interest in the bank, nor does the government have any representatives on the Board of Directors. Only 10% of the bank’s shares are held by the TCI National Insurance Board, the body responsible for managing the national pension fund of the Turks & Caicos Islands. The largest shareholder group, TCI Belongers and companies majority-owned by TCI Belongers, holds 50% of the bank’s shares. A mixed group of TCI Belongers and non-TCI Permanent Residents owns 10%. And, the following Eastern Caribbean banks own the remaining 30% of the bank’s share capital: ABI Bank Limited and its subsidiary, Antigua Overseas Bank Limited; Bank of Nevis Limited; Caribbean Commercial Bank (Anguilla) Limited; Grenada Cooperative Bank Limited; National Bank of Anguilla Limited; National Bank of Dominica Limited and St. Kitts Nevis Anguilla National Bank Limited.

Eager to spread the gospel of uncompromising excellent customer service to the Turks & Caicos Islands, ABI Bank Limited, a member of Antigua & Barbuda’s single largest financial conglomerate, responded to the TCI Government’s wish that TCIB should be at least 60% owned by TCI Belongers and their majority-owned companies.

Given TCIB’s homegrown roots and the high level of direct foreign investment that pours into the Turks & Caicos Islands, the bank strikes a balance between its dual goals of:

- Giving Turks & Caicos Islanders and non-Belonger residents opportunities to realize their dreams of becoming significant players in the economic activity of the Islands, and

- Financing and providing a wide range of services to the inward investment community, given the very important role that this group plays in the economic development of the Islands.

Satisfying the needs of these two anchor groups inspired the selection of the bank’s motto, “Your Bank, Our Bank, The Nation’s Bank.” (The motto was composed by Jessica Joseph, a student at the Enid Capron Primary School, who won for her school a computer and printer from TCIB.)

TCIB occupies 11,634 square feet of ground floor space at Butterfield Square. The bank comprises a spectacular array of exquisitely appointed suites and lobby spaces designed around the concept of one-on-one customer interface, with complete confidentiality, privacy and comfort.

Leadership team

TCIB’s executive management team is made up of:

- Mr. John H.R. Benjamin, BSc MBA TEP, Managing Director;

- Mrs. Madeline Wynns-Potter, dip. Sec Science, Company Secretary and HRM Manager;

- Mrs. Claire Robinson, AA, Financial Services, Manager Credit & Business Development;

- Mr. Alix Bleus, BA MA, Manager Operations;

- Mr. James Malcolm, dip. Planning & Development, Manager Finance & Planning and

- Mr. Nigel Guy, BSc ACIB, Internal Auditor & Chief Compliance Officer.

The bank’s Board of Directors are:

- Mr. Washington Misick, Chairman, savvy investor, visionary, and former TCI Chief Minister;

- Mr. Carl Simmons, Vice Chairman, proprietor of the TCI Tropical Shipping agency;

- Mrs. Madeline Wynns-Potter, Director and Company Secretary, retired bank-HRM officer;

- Mr. Delton Jones, TCI Government Chief Economist;

- Mr. Trevor M. Cooke, successful entrepreneur and Director, TCI National Insurance Board;

- Mr. Andrew Newlands, prominent TCI property developer, lawyer and accountant;

- Mr. Albray Butterfield, prominent, iconic, successful TCI businessman and church leader;

- Mr. McAlister Abbott, entrepreneur, financial group founder and Managing Director ABI Group of Companies;

- Mrs. Carolyn Philip, Senior Manager, Corporate Affairs, ABI Financial Group and

- Mr. John H.R. Benjamin, Managing Director, former bank financial group general manager and financial consultant.

Filling the gaps

Perhaps the most astonishing and distinctive feature of TCIB is the bank’s success in eliminating queuing for services. Long accustomed to taking novels to their bank to help pass excruciatingly long waiting times in teller lines, the banking public expresses loud sighs of relief upon entering TCIB. No queues! All front office tellers and personal bankers operating within service suites are equipped with personal ATM machines that dispense cash instantly, without errors, for customers wishing to cash cheques or make withdrawals from their deposit accounts.

By hiring and providing continuous training to a team of personal, private and business-development bankers with the right combination of skills and attributes, TCIB assists customers in attaining their life goals and making banking an enjoyable experience. The bank achieves this by adding to its service recipe the following ingredients:

- An experienced, full time bank ambassador who determines which personal banker can best meet each customer’s needs;

- Ability to open accounts without an appointment;

- Saturday banking from 9:00 AM to 12 noon, (the only bank open for business on Saturdays);

- Consolidated loan packages: if you have loans with other banks, TCIB is prepared to consider consolidating all of your loans into a single loan with one lower monthly payment;

- Comprehensive loan packages: vehicle loan applicants can obtain credit life and vehicle insurance for the term of the loan at the best loan interest rate in a single package.

- Convenient home ownership packages: prospective homeowners can obtain a loan package covering construction of their home, purchase of a motor vehicle, furniture and appliances and procurement of credit life and property insurance cover;

- A manager of operations who speaks six languages;

- Prospectively, a full service branch in Grand Turk before the end of August 2006, with branch operations in North Caicos by September 2006 and South Caicos by March 2007;

- Bond underwriting services to fund large infrastructure projects like road construction;

- Interest paid on corporate checking accounts;

- Supremely appointed service suites: business customers and personal banking clients do their banking in the comfort and privacy of self-contained service suites where they get the undivided attention of personal and private bankers.

Alliances bring strength

Most successful high growth companies owe their success partially to the alliances they join. To protect TCIB against credit risk and expand the reach of the bank into other countries, TCIB has entered into commercial agreements with banks in the Eastern Caribbean through ECIC Holdings Limited to co-finance large projects.

ECIC Holdings Limited is an Eastern Caribbean integration company owned by a group of indigenous banks in the Leeward and Windward Islands and Turks & Caicos Islands. ECIC coordinates the consortium lending activities of this unique group of banks whose combined assets exceed US$2 billion. So if TCIB is approached to finance a large project with good prospects, TCIB can call on the group of banks to share in funding. This reduces TCIB’s risk considerably and gives TCIB the ability to compete head-to-head with its competitors. TCIB’s approach to lending is also safer because several very experienced banks, using modern analytical and evaluation techniques, pronounce judgment on consortium loans for large projects.

By working in close collaboration with the ECIC Group banks, TCIB also benefits from referral business from group members and their clients. The arrangements with ECIC allows TCIB to accommodate large borrowers as well as more borrowers than would have been the case were TCIB operating as a stand-alone bank.

All of the ECIC Group banks are moving to adopt uniform best practices and best-of-breed systems in their operations. They all pay close attention to risk management and corporate governance.

The combination of unparalleled best service and best practice is TCIB’s guarantee of success, gaining the respect of its competitors. TCI Bank wins business through the referent power of its growing base of delighted customers.

TCI Bank is here to stay

When we trace the history of indigenous banks in the Eastern Caribbean, two remarkable attributes stand out: their ages and competitive positions. Most of them are over 25 years old and as a group, they control over 60% of banking business in the sub-region. In the larger CARICOM territories of Jamaica, Trinidad & Tobago and Guyana, regional indigenous banks as a group enjoy more than a 70% share of banking business.

St. Kitts Nevis Anguilla National Bank, with total assets in excess of US$600 million, made a 2005 pre-tax profit of circa US$15 million. This 36-year-old indigenous bank is the Eastern Caribbean’s financial services technology leader, as well as the most profitable bank in the sub-region.

In Anguilla, Antigua & Barbuda, St. Kitts/Nevis, Dominica, Grenada and St. Lucia, the largest indigenous bank in each of these islands is bigger than the First Caribbean International Bank branches in each named territory.

In Antigua & Barbuda, the ABI Financial Group, with assets in excess of US$500 million, is the single largest financial services conglomerate in that territory. ABI Bank (16 years old) and its 50-year-old brother, Antigua Commercial Bank, together have over 40% of Antigua & Barbuda’s banking business, notwithstanding competition from international banks like First Caribbean International Bank, Scotia Bank and Royal Bank of Canada.

In Anguilla, Caribbean Commercial Bank (Anguilla) Limited and National Bank of Anguilla Limited trump both First Caribbean International Bank and Scotia Bank in terms of market share of banking business. Both banks have consistently posted high levels of profitability.

National Bank of Dominica has approximately 50% of total market deposits of Dominica and Bank of St. Lucia’s parent company, Eastern Caribbean Financial Holdings Limited, is St. Lucia’s single largest financial conglomerate with assets approximating US$500 million.

These indigenous banks have learned how to compete with international giants as well as regional titans and TCI Bank is benefiting from their shared experience. Absent the able sponsorship of ABI Bank Limited and the compelling performance record of the Eastern Caribbean indigenous banks, the TCI public might have been skeptical about the prospects of their first home-grown bank. But as Louis H. Lockhart, founder of the Antigua Commercial Bank, said, “Nothing is more powerful than an idea whose time has come!”

An outstanding score card

TCI Bank opened its doors for business on December 5, 2005 and within six months of its opening produced the following results:

As of the end of May 2006, TCIB’s total assets stood at US$47 million, total deposits passed the US$38 million mark and paid-up share capital tipped the scales at just over US$10 million. Through a series of private offerings and culminating with a public share offering, it plans to grow share capital to US$20 million by the end of 2007.

On the basis of the present growth trajectory, and without factoring in the effects of the bank’s Grand Turk and North Caicos operations and its soon to be introduced Internet banking and international debit card services, TCI Bank expects to exceed US$100 million in assets before the end of 2006.

What is remarkable about the results is that the bank attained this outstanding score card without having any extensive or deeply penetrative media campaign. Instead, the bank attributes the high rate of progress to positive feedback on service by delighted customers who share their experience with business partners and associates.

As at the end of March 2006, the consolidated Turks & Caicos national banking statistics indicated total deposits of US$904 million and total loans of US$443 million, which means that banks operating in the Turks & Caicos Islands are lending 50 cents for each dollar that they hold in deposits. As TCI Bank grows in size, management forecasts that a greater proportion of each dollar raised locally will go into loans and advances.

By competing as market differentiators, TCI Bank projects that it will gain the largest share of banking business in the Turks & Caicos Islands by June 2011. Both market size and scope are favourable to achieving this goal. TCIB also has its sights set on the Bahamas, where it hopes to establish its first overseas branch operation by the end of fiscal 2009.

Satisfied employees; satisfied customers

Most companies put a lot of effort into keeping customers because they recognise that effective customer retention strategies reduce marketing and sales costs. Some researchers estimate that for every customer lost due to bad service, companies can lose perhaps a further five to seven customers, as dissatisfied customers tend to broadcast their feelings among friends and close associates.

A central tenet of TCIB’s customer retention philosophy is that dissatisfied employees are the root cause of poor customer service and by extension, customer defections. TCI Bank believes that there is an inextricable link between human resources management and customer retention. In fact, as the bank’s managing director, I espouse the philosophy, “Treat employees well; look after their needs; take a keen interest in their welfare; and they will take care of the needs and welfare of your customers. Ignore the needs of your employees and they will spend quality time thinking through solutions to solve their personal problems at the expense of the customer.”

With this in mind, TCIB focuses on hiring the best individuals to look after its customers, then sets about looking into the needs of each employee, including: remuneration packages, job conditions, interpersonal relations, career-parting and goal seeking. By taking a keen interest in employee wellness, employee motivation takes over and begins to permeate service quality.

This indirect approach to customer retention and service quality is similar to that revealed in the Harvard Business Review article, “The Contrarian Entrepreneur.” Satisfied employees are more likely to dispense superb service and pay close attention to customer needs when they are self-actualized. They tend to observe the bank’s rules regarding compliance, confidentiality and honesty. Provided with the right tools and properly trained in all products and services, they will delight customers. And, as I believe, “Delighted customers are our best form of advertisement. They represent the most formidable weapons in our sales and marketing arsenal.”

Staff exchanges

Three of the seven ABI Bank seconded staff who journeyed to the TCI to assist TCIB during its formative months will return to Antigua at the end of their assignment at the end of June 2006. Six TCIB Belonger employees received on-the-job experience in Antigua with ABI Bank in 2005. One who has qualifications in IT networking is due to travel to Straight Through Processing Inc. in Antigua, a technology-based company that provides core banking software, Internet banking and other IT-related services to indigenous banks in the Eastern Caribbean, to undergo training to better use TCIB’s IT facilities. TCIB employees are able to work in banks in the Eastern Caribbean on secondment, through arrangements between TCIB and the ECIC Group. This learning experience will enrich the TCIB customer service experience and the knowledge curve of the bank’s employees.

Why TCIB will succeed

Why can TCI Bank Limited expect to take a leadership position in terms of share of banking business? I offer the following reasons:

- How TCIB packages services and its service environment;

- TCIB’s human resource management policies;

- The support mechanisms due to its relationships with successful, experienced indigenous banks in the Eastern Caribbean;

- TCIB’s ability to fill service gaps and maintain hallmark personalized service;

- Overwhelming response of its customers, shareholders and other stakeholders to TCIB’s high quality of service;

- Pride taken by Belongers in owning their own bank and witnessing its commendable performance in the face of competition from large international banks;

- TCIB’s determination to continuously innovate and keep ahead of the competition;

- A seasoned management team that encourages employees to be the best at what they do and

- A board of directors that brings business to the bank and makes objective business decisions.

In summary, TCI Bank has, indeed, come to take its rightful place in the sun!

John H.R. Benjamin, BSc, MBA, TEP, is TCI Bank Limited’s Managing Director. He can be contacted on (649) 941-7502 or via email at john.benjamin@tcibankltd.com.

The West Bay Club is attracting investors west of central Grace Bay.

By Kathy Borsuk

A stroll along central Grace Bay’s heralded beach these days reflects its burgeoning popularity, as condominium developments seem to sprout like dune grass along the sugar-sand shores. While each project is upscale and well designed, some Providenciales investors seem ready to “head west” to explore new territory.

The market is responding to this interest, combined with the lack of vacant beachfront property on the “Gold Coast,” with development moving west from central Grace Bay towards Turtle Cove, stretching along the shoreline tracing the local community of The Bight. Here, the ocean sparkles with the same luxurious turquoise luster, sunsets glow with the latitude’s trademark pink-purple sheen and the white-sand beaches are especially wide and welcoming. It’s a place where you can take a deep breath and say “ahhhhh.”

Anchoring development here is the West Bay Club, a distinctive condominium community marked by its exceptional location, elegantly functional design and well chosen amenities – mirroring the extensive experience of all involved.

West Bay Club lies on a gentle curve just west of the elegant Turks & Caicos Club hotel. Here, the beach is distinctively wide, with views stretching for miles along Providenciales’ acclaimed north shore. The site spans 3 1/2 acres, with 320 feet of beach frontage, and will be home to 46 residences on five floors, along with a pavilion/reception building. Nestled between the buildings is a large, landscaped pool/patio/garden enclave, its highlight a spherical infinity pool with views to the sea through a dramatic archway. A few steps beyond, a path traces the way to the Bay’s incomparable sand and sea; the only detours are temptingly private sunning areas and a tranquil water garden. Owners and guests will find in the graciously curved Pavilion a complete fitness center, spa, bar and lounge with indoor/outdoor seating, reception, owner’s lounge, lobby, reception and offices.

Turks & Caicos aficionados associate the words “Simon Wood Associates” with exceptional architecture of enduring quality. The West Bay Club’s design follows suit, being distinctive but restrained, with the owners’ enjoyment and value of foremost priority. Architect Simon Wood says, “The challenge here was to allow each residence to share in the extraordinary setting.” His firm met the challenge with an innovative design where all residences are direct beachfront, maximizing views with huge oceanfront terraces and expansive glassed walls. In fact, West Bay Club contains nearly twice the windowed area of other condominiums, virtually inviting seaside vistas to be an integral part of each home.

Within a variety of one, two or three bedroom floor plans, each residence shares spacious dimensions, high ceilings and exceptional livability. Sophisticated master suites overlook the ocean and include ultra-luxurious ensuite bathrooms. Media/communications centers are state of the art and all finishes are of the highest quality – stone counters and vanities, stone floors, stainless appliances and top of the line hardware. For those who choose the rental program, many residences offer the flexibility and value of lock-out suites, with owners’ closets and storage areas.

Although surrounded by unspoiled seaside and national park, West Bay Club is close to a variety of shops and restaurants. Access is via Lower Bight Road, recently paved and upgraded with sidewalks, bike paths and street lighting.

Of West Bay Club’s 46 residences, as of the start of construction in May, 2006, 30 were sold. This tremendous response speaks not only to the project’s carefully planned balance of sophistication and livability, but also to the trust invoked in investors by the impeccable credentials of the development team.

The project is funded by McAlister/Togant Real Estate Investment Fund of Charleston, South Carolina, with Bruce Miller as development manager. He explains the solid foundation on which the project was based, “The basic plan was based on our extensive experience with waterfront developments in the United States. Because the location was untested, it was crucial to offer clear value and distinctiveness. We also knew that, although we have more previous development experience than most, we would be scrutinized because we were newcomers to the Caribbean.” He adds, “We knew what an outstanding product needed to be and we had to determine how to produce that product here. It was essential to find and retain the best talent.”

“The best talent” is a constellation of some of the Turks & Caicos most respected and established firms. Miller explains, “We were impressed by Simon Wood’s previous work and his grasp of what we were trying to accomplish. We believe the design is wonderful! Joe Zahm, (of Connolly Zahm Properties, a leading local real estate firm specializing in high-end condominium sales) provided us with right-on guidance during the planning process and his firm continues to do an excellent job of representing West Bay Club. TDMG Concordia is, in our estimation, clearly the most respected construction firm in the Islands and we have great confidence in them. Both we and our owners benefit from the direction and documentation provided by Miller Simons O’Sullivan as legal council. As in previous projects, the key to success is assembling the most qualified team and listening to them.”

Of West Bay Club’s initial investors, Miller describes them as “sophisticated, both from a lifestyle and investment standpoint.” All have owned or evaluated multiple real estate assets. So far, plans are mixed – some plan to live at West Bay Club; for others it is an investment purchase.

Prices for West Bay Club residences currently range from $600,000 to $1.8 million, with expected increases this summer now that construction is progressing rapidly. The project is anticipated to be completed by early 2008.

For more information, contact Connolly Zahm Properties at telephone 649 941 3900, email sales@czproperties.com or visit www.TheWestBayClub.com.

Will pride goeth before blisters when crossing the Caicos by foot?

Story & Photos By Martin Pepper

I am losing ground fast. It is midday and water is raging through the small channels like a flash flood. The winds are at full power and knocking whitecaps off the waves, pulling at the little rubber dinghy that cradles my rucksack. I am swimming from the northernmost point of South Caicos, heading for Plandon Cay while pulling the bowline. (Actually, the current is dragging me out to sea towards Grand Turk.) I glance up at Coast Guard Point for some kind of assurance from John Claydon, my driver to the site and a professor for the School for Field Studies. He is laughing while waving his arms and screaming, “Turn around you fool, you’ll never make it. You should have checked the tides, moron!”

In the worst-case scenario I could be swept out to the east off the shelf and possibly drift for days. But soon the water goes from three fathoms to waist level, and I am able to stop, fight the tidal bore and wind, and plot a new strategy. I decide that the best idea, if I plan to keep going, is to swim across the current until inside the shadow of the next island, a small speck on the map. This blip should block the current and allow me to swim back up. Great plan, but when John is the size of an ant and my target just a chocolate chip on the horizon I wonder . . . Eventually the chip begins to grow and behind the tiny island a large eddy helps to bring me across.

Plandon Cay is a long strip of land shaped like a big check-mark. A gentle slope of tan sandstone slips down into the sea with coconuts strewn about above the high tide zone. I take stock of the situation. I have almost drowned. There’s blood trickling down my right leg and rubble in the shallows has sliced my feet.

In the old days, Turks & Caicos Islanders regularly walked between islands. That got me thinking. What better way to see the undeveloped Caicos Islands than to bridge the archipelago by hiking about 100 miles from the southern tip of South Caicos to the northern edge of Providenciales? The personal challenge of carrying all my gear and supplies the entire length has awakened the purist in me. An inflatable raft will float the pack so I can swim it across the water passages.

Now, only into my first hour, I am not so sure if I can complete the hike and the prospect of swimming across these channels seems equally unappetizing. However, mostly because I told so many people of my intentions, I decide to soldier on. I’m not ready to go home with my tail between my legs quite yet.

The sun is low in the sky and the wind is whipping around the corner. At the edge of Plandon Cay, behind the windward point in a hidden cove, are small shacks built by fishermen to wait out the worst of storms. These little homesteads are tacked together with scraps that have floated up the beach: corrugated, driftwood and bits of plywood. Each building fosters a foam pad or a pile of nets for bedding. They speak of times worse than today and give me hope.

The crossing from Plandon to Middle Creek Cay is anticlimactic. I barely drift outward the throw of a stone before making it across. The blue sky is deepening, day is slowly turning to night and a dark grey cliff of mixed sandstone and limestone with lines of sedimentation runs the length of the beach like the side of a giant elephant. Pygmy palms stand at the edge threatening to jump into the fields of sargassum and trash that lie below. Like a squadron of dirigibles, big puffs of clouds are sailing overhead out to sea. It is very quiet, the sea is like glass and I am finally totally at ease. I am the only human that has walked this beach in a long time.

In stillness, daggers of light pierce through the sheet of water. Every tenth step an iguana scuttles off into the burr grass and bushes, causing dry leaves to rustle and crunch. Their tracks are interesting compared to other two-legged and four-legged wildlife. A goliath tree trunk welcomes me, draped with green gill nets and outstretched roots like a shawled grandmother approaching for a hug. As I pass the driftwood and step further north the limbs seem to wave good-bye and goad me onward.

The crossing to McCartney Cay looks treacherous with swales whipping a white slurry through the cut. But with a hop, skip, jump, splash and a few swim strokes, I’m on the biggest land yet. As the sun and moon near their shift change, the tidal slosh is slowing down. The sky casts a fluorescent glow on the sand. Osprey circle from above, squeaking disapproval at my path just below their nest. Hills and troughs run the length of McCartney with patches of pines and brush in the swales. I decide to hike until moonrise and then stop to set up camp.

As I clear a fire ring to cook dinner, a letter in an Absolut bottle clinks against some stones. It is printed on a laser printer with a fill-in-the-blank format. I figure, if you’re going to send a message in a bottle capture the romance in the action; compose it on rice paper, burn the edges, write it in blood and seal it in an old chianti bottle with wax. As for this bottle, a Swiss couple was crossing the Atlantic on the Sea Cloud II in November, 2004 and wants me to send them a postcard. If I do, it will read, “Please keep your trash on board next time, our beach has enough, thank you.” Or better yet, “Next time please hold the note and send the vodka.”

Dinner is a disaster. The potato goes down easily enough, but the cold corned beef hash seems to be stuck in my throat. Even worse, my bug-suit does not seem to be working as efficiently as I had hoped. Actually, it doesn’t work at all and the sand fleas or “no see-ems” walk right through and start digging in for the feast of their lives. As it looks like sleep is a lost cause, I might as well be moving forward Ñ so I throw on a headlamp and hike through the night.

Another bad idea. Because the rest of the cay consists of fingers of rock that protrude into the surf, I am forced to wade. This is my first intimate introduction to everything in the pack. Four and a half gallons of water, thirty pounds of camera gear, a week’s worth of canned goods, potatoes and onions and the pack is teetering over a hundred pounds. The water sandals were a discount online and I now realize why. The leather insole becomes slippery as warm butter when wet. Each step has my feet slide out through the toe hole or roll off the side. Will I twist an ankle or sink through soft sand and struggle for the next step? I push on, unsure. Finally, after crossing into East Caicos, the coastline shifts to sandy beaches; a mile or two up the coast and there’s enough wind to lie down safely out of grasp of the bloodthirsty microbugs.

Sunrise a couple of hours later has me up and tripping my way across rubble until lunch. The southern part of East Caicos is a weathered limestone shelf with jagged gullies and razor-sharp edges in every direction. The only discerning trail is to be near the dullest of boulders at water’s edge. Waves have pounded this tortured coastline for millennia, undercutting the edge. Waves break into a curl seconds before the ledge and then slam into the wall with the force of a train wreck, misting everything for yards. Every set of sleepy steps, a slam jolts me back to wakefulness with a wet slap in the face. The platform that I walk rattles with each watery thunder. After a short, sandy intermission the rocky shards continue. A cobblestone plantation wall suddenly appears from nowhere, leading down to the water where a blowhole spits spurts of seawater straight into the air. Every few seconds, ppppssssshhhhhhhtttt! A mist jet shoots skyward. Just past Drum Point, I sit in the shade of the only Bahamian pine around and watch huge frothy white rollers envelop the point. These are the biggest and longest rolling waves that I have seen.

As soon as I begin to relax, a gang of Cuban crows lands above me and starts a warbly screech of disapproval. The only comparison to this bird’s odd call is a turkey gobble played in reverse. Taking a nap is out of the question Ñ as I lie back, they dive towards my face with claws drawn, swooping in groups of cacophony. I am impressed with their nerve and intelligence. Crows from around the world fly in packs like wolves, scavenging, gathering together and then hiding their loot in a stash that they remember for months. I realize I am lying on their cache when one starts digging near my head.

I head onward in the midday heat sucking down water. At this point I am going through almost a gallon and a half of water a day. I am two days from Middle Caicos with one day of water left. Time to open the mind and think of a solution. What are my options in this situation? There are no fresh water catchments and the last rain was weeks ago. Eureka! A giant pile of trash ahead has a two-liter bottle of clear fluid; it’s sweet water. My spirits are lifted and I march onward with a new bounce. A rocky outcropping in the middle of a sandy expanse appears, with excellent snorkeling promise. I’ve found Black Rock Point.

The lobsters here are relatively untouched by fishermen and reflect this in monstrosity. Under every ledge a pair of spiny antennae and beady eyes twitch back and forth to ensure my distance. A group of blue-lined grunts huddles under some coral; their laser blue and yellow stripes confuse the eye. This is where I’ll throw my line from shore, but first things first; let’s find the remains of a possible shipwreck.

The Trouvadore was an old slave ship that was heading to Cuban sugar grounds in 1841 full of shackled Africans, a trade that was banned in 1808. In the 1990s, a letter that incorrectly linked African idols (actually Easter Island idols) to TCI was discovered in the Smithsonian Institute, which sparked interest the world over. Historians have said that all TCI Belongers are related to the Trouvadore survivors either by blood or marriage. As I look (in vain) for the splayed ribs and metal hardware of a dead ship blooming from the intertidal sands I ponder what the people were thinking when they walked this coast that I am on, so long ago?

With light to spare I start up a little cooking fire behind a windbreak and throw a line in for some protein. A grunt from the school under the rock nibbles at my treble hook and becomes the sixth course. After a full helping of sunset, a russet potato, a sweet potato, an onion and another cold can of corned beef hash, I throw him on the hot coals. (I heard somewhere that it is best to toss the whole fish onto the coals to ensure even cooking.) The heat sears off the scales and cooks him through his entrails. It tastes like putrid intestines, but I finish it nonetheless.

Tonight sees the happy return of the wind. My mind returns to the unquestionable problem of water and the fact that my feet are becoming increasingly mauled and blistered. Tonight is the mid-point where I can turn back and possibly make South Caicos, or go the distance. The decision is made; I must push on and see this through.

Before sunrise the walking resumes. Shortly beyond Black Rock the pain returns as the beach width shortens, the angle increases, the sand softens and the water rises. With every step my right foot sinks in, rolls over and rakes the new blisters. I struggle to find a path that will lessen my suffering. In desperation I cut up and down into and around the brush. Vines and low-lying branches catch my feet and trip every other step while large thick bushes with oily leaves in giant patches make the vegetation impassable. Each scallop in the coastline closes in, restricting the view like blinders on a horse. Approaching each point before the bend I beg, please let there be rocks or a ledge above the surf zone. Each time there is none.

One step, ouch, next step, uggghh, the tenderness increases. Pain. I think back to my swimming days when I trained for the Olympic trials. Hurt is inescapable, I know, so I try to talk with the pain and welcome it. The technique works. As I look deeper into what pain is about, it loses its grasp. Detachment follows, and the steps come more easily. The beauty of the sun’s reflection on the sand and the sound of the waves licking at the beach take my attention away and I move on.

Sticking out of a patch of tansy above the piles of flotsam and jetsam, I find an old green wine bottle containing a handwritten message, rolled up and fettered with a rusty paper clip. This one has been sitting here a few decades waiting for an errant soul. Despite the aluminum cap it has more verity. The cap has oxidized so I need to smash it to get the message. As I unfurl the two old grey pages, they break off into little bits, so I write down the message as it crumbles. It reads:

Friend,

I am passing Cape S.T. Vincent portage at 11pm.

We left Barcelona on the 28th of May.

We are bound for Felixs Lowe now.

So, if you find this bottle please write and tell me.

Good luck.

From Kristina.

I will be home 2nd of June 1970

Kristina S.

(Address)

South Humberside

England

Please dispose of this bottle safely (oops!)

Just over the ridge lies Flamingo Hill and beyond that Jacksonville Harbor, where one can see signs of industry. The East Caicos Sisal Company sent sisal to New York and the Breezy Point Estate ranch with a herd of cattle over 1,500 head provided beef for Grand Turk in the mid-19th century. After the collapse of the sisal industry, new business ventures began. Railroad tracks for donkey drawn trolleys ran 14 miles along the north side of East Caicos pulling bat guano from the deep caves to support the production of gunpowder. Periodically down the beach I see piles of cattle and donkey dung and trails of footprints. Islanders have come here in hunting parties since well before World War II to hunt these remaining relics of the past giant herds. But now, besides herds of livestock, the entire island is vacant. The ghost town of a ghost island is home to a solitude that is both frightening and exhilarating.

Towards the north tip of East Caicos I am beyond despair and understand how Tom Hanks must have felt in the movie, “Castaway.” What I need now is a buddy to talk to, my volleyball Wilson. I round Lorimer’s Point and find my friend, a Bridgestone Soft Touch. He doesn’t look as good as Wilson, but Softy is just as faithful. He listens to my every complaint and sits there with a blank white look on his face questioning all my woes.

Before I can unpack lunch I notice a white Fiberglass run-about coming around Jackson Cut Bay. “That’s odd,” I say aloud, “What’s this guy doing?” For most of the trip, to keep cool I have been wearing only the bug suit, which is as wispy and see-through as a window screen. The boat is coming up fast and I am trying to get real pants on but all the elastic cuffs and bands tangle up my legs and I fall to the ground. A full wrestle resumes; hog-tied, I am barely able to get dressed before he is at the point. At the water’s edge I yell out, “Where you headed?” Obviously he hasn’t seen what just transpired, and he replies, “Middle Ñ you need a ride?” Albert backs the boat up in surf so I can wade out and hop on. I run back up, drop-kick Softy for not answering me and throw on my pack. Suddenly I am seeing the coastline at 25 knots.

Albert is from Bambarra on a trip to East to find sprouting coconuts but the rising water on Lorimer’s Point has made the pass too treacherous. We swerve hard right and sharp left. It doesn’t make sense to me, but he finds safe water. Some dark spots in the water he dodges and others we drive right over. At one point near Haulover Point he speeds up to get enough momentum to plow through some sandy shallows. At another, we cut so close to an outcropping that I could jump to shore with plenty of room to spare. We round Gamble Point where a pair of osprey sit watching. Their nest sits atop a perfectly square rock stack that marks some historical spot.

He drops me off at the Bambarra boat ramp and I walk onward. This little trip just saved me two days of walking. Guilt sets in; I have dodged all the water crossings to Middle Caicos. As justification, I figure if Bill Bryson can change his agenda to walking the Appalachian Trail on weekend stints and still write the travel book A Walk in the Woods, then I can receive a small ride here and there and still save some face. So I walk on with a guilty grin but make an amendment to the purist; now I must hike the rest of the way entirely by my own accord.

The beach is too soft here, so I take the cobbled dirt road. Just up the hill is one of the last of the old-school boat builders, Headly Forbes, and his wife Ibiza, a traditional basket weaver. They both use the island’s resources for their crafts and prove more adroit than their counterparts from other countries. Mr. Forbes builds beautiful Caicos style sloops by first carving a half hull model and then laying out the rest of the design in his head. He walks the forest to find the branch with the correct bend for each part, hewing it by hand, from memory; mahogany for the ribs and the rock-hard, oily lignum vitae for the keel. The finished product is a true water-tight hull, made without the use of plans, lofting or a strong back that other shipwrights rely on.

As I head towards Conch Bar my pain becomes unbearable. Each step, ahhh, the next step ohhhhh. I try to talk with this new pain but it screams back in complete disapproval. My internal amendment to this purist venture requires further changes and at this point I will take any ride that passes by. Dennis takes me from Bambarra to Alice and Henry Taylor’s store just behind their house. Alice opens the door for me to peruse the shelves and find a few accents for tonight’s dinner. They are the second group of people I have seen so far and are very welcoming. I tell them about the trip and they graciously offer a sugar apple and a place to sit and chat about times past. It is my first taste of the fruit (also known as a custard apple), which tastes like a lichee and looks like a big, green hand grenade that is very squishy, like a deflated water balloon.

Henry explains that back before tourism was big in the Turks & Caicos Islands, if you weren’t working for the government or providing for yourself through fishing or farming, the only other possibility was to head up to the Bahamas and find work in construction and tourism. He worked there for much of his life and then came home near retirement with his wife of 50+ years.

Like Alice and Henry, the residents here are very friendly and Middle Caicos has that sleepy-town feel that starts down in Lorimers and livens as you approach the deep Conch Bar Caves. Day travelers come from North Caicos and Providenciales to see the largest above-ground limestone structures in TCI with smoke stains from the ancient Lucayans and graffiti that dates back to the 1800s.

The sleepiness might all change soon because there are housing lots starting to delineate ownership on the southern part of the island. Foreigners have been purchasing land as an investment and some have started moving forward to build a getaway vacation home. The locals that I spoke with welcome these and other tourist businesses, but are very wary of development getting out of hand and turning their home into another Providenciales. They all agree with the economic benefits of a big bustling island but fear losing the simple way of life through the violence and theft that comes with larger towns.

With some sugar apple seeds and new friends, I shake hands and attempt to put on my pack. I have developed a new technique to deal with the weight that’s easier than the standard way. The new method is to sit down and put the pack on, buckle the waist belt and then kick and flail to roll forward onto my belly, like an angry turtle that’s just been flipped on its back. Next I get to a crawling position, get my legs underneath and attempt to stand up. If not balanced, my first steps become a run forward to get under all the weight. Henry watches this with concern, either for my weakness or my mental health, but never cracks a smile. I am impressed. The next section is to head northwest towards the crossing to North Caicos, so I take off with a limp.

On flat ground the damage to my right foot becomes obvious. My blisters illustrate the soft steep terrain of East Caicos and my calf muscle has shut down in protest. I sit on the side of the road to drain the blood blister and empty the clear ones. But, even with a new lease on my feet, I will still take the first ride that stops to pick me up. The purist has died. Now the goal is to just make it to the end by any means.

The white chalky gravel road that heads out towards the ferry is almost a straight run. By mistake I stumble onto the smaller of Middle Caicos delights Ñ Indian Caves. Much has been written about this tourist attraction, but it is all new to me. My visit is not without its own drama when I enter and make my way to a vast cathedral hollow, with spires hanging from the walls like hunting trophies. As I take in the limestone forms painted by lines of bright green algae and grey limescale, a white flash of fury suddenly drops from a fissure, flapping in my face as it takes off through the entrance. Its mate swoops down through a hole in the sky and tries to defecate on me in defense. He needs more ballistics training; the digested rat splats on a spire to my left, which causes me to notice bones exclusively of mice and rats on the cave floor. These two owls have been here for many years and as I sit in the cave their strange calls sound like ghosts.

When I’m back on the road, Dennis drives by again and stops to pick me up. He is headed out to his boat to take Kim over to North Caicos. At the dock I hop out the back and start to blow up the raft. Dennis asks, “How you gettin’ across?”

“I’m swimming while pulling my pack in this little raft,” I say.

“Boy you crazy, just get in the boat, we’ll take you across,” he replies.

I try to resist and he scolds me, “What the hell you doin’? After this trip stop doin’ dis crazy stuff! You gonna get yourself killed and I’m gonna read about you somewhere.”

The trip across is long and I am lucky to have stumbled across Dennis, otherwise, I might have gotten into trouble. It could have been another trip out to sea . . .

TO BE CONTINUED IN FALL 2006

Martin Pepper walked, swam and hitch-hiked the Caicos Islands while on Christmas break as Site Manager for the School for Field Studies in South Caicos. He is currently traveling around North America and Mexico while writing travel stories and taking pictures. His work can be seen on http://martinpepperphotography.com