That’s Cat Island in the Bahamas… a bit out of the way, written in Outside Magazine back in 2001.
Outside is a magazine I see at supermarkets and airports and sometimes even buy. I just saw their list of gear “every guy should own” which included a pair of snow shoes… um… what? That’s a reason I don’t subscribe. I don’t need snow shoes. I will never need snow shoes. If “every guy” is needing snow shoes things are going really, really weird, climate-wise.
I don’t climb. I don’t hike (unless it is to or from fishing). I don’t mountain bike (although I do tow my 3 year old, there are no mountains involved). Hell, I don’t even camp. Outside is still where I want to be, although I want a rod in my hand and some water in front of me.
That said, this article about Cat Island is kind of a good read.
The typical tourist is a naked German lady stuck in a cave at high tide, waiting for the police. The typical expat washed up on a sailboat and never left. Cat is the kind of place where on Sunday mornings in the village of Old Bight, the regulars at the Pass Me Not Bar lock the front door out of respect for the Baptist church across the street and play dominoes under the tamarind tree out back as the Baptist ladies holler scripture through megaphones.