Naturally, every organization needs a passport, so I designed one featuring two crossed palm trees on its cover and I had custom rubber stamps of different fonts made for many of the islands we visited. Whenever one of us spent the night on an island, whether ashore or aboard our boat, or even traveling with others that member got its passport stamped. (Cruise ship stops didn't count.) We were certified island hoppers.

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In 1973, I married Estelle, with Island Hoppers no 2 & 3As I write these words on July 4, 2026, I am eighty-four years old. I have not returned to Abaco since just prior to Superstorm Sandy. Because of Dorian, COVID, and the simple realities that come with age, I have accepted that my traveling days to those islands are behind me. With that realization came another difficult decision. I pulled the plug on AbacoEscape.com. It's Home Page as it was before Dor1an is Here. I've saved a must-see video page of the Effects of Dorian, It is here. Rather than simply allowing it to disappear, I transferred the domain name and much of its content, photographs, videos, articles and history to Amanda Dietrich of AbacoSun.com. Amanda is an Abaco descendant with a home near the New Plymouth ferry dock, and it is my hope that portions of the website will eventually find new life through her efforts. Whether that ultimately happens is less important than knowing the information has been placed into caring hands. Perhaps another generation will continue telling Abaco's story. Email address in attendance. Like most newlyweds, we planned a honeymoon to some place warm and tropical. Ours would begin with a short stay at my parents' home in Delray Beach before continuing to a quiet island somewhere in the Bahamas. We knew not where.

We knew we didn’t want  Nassau or Freeport with their cruise ship loads of people. Casinos held no attraction. Neither did crowded beaches or nightlife. We wanted somewhere peaceful—an island where life moved at an easier pace and, if possible, where we could rent a boat.

At the suggestion of a local travel agency, a few days later we boarded a Mackey Airlines DC-6 bound for Treasure Cay (pronounced key). From there we taxied a short distance to a ferry dock, then jumped aboard a water ferry headed for a place we, till now, had never heard of: the Green Turtle Club on Green Turtle Cay in the Abaco Islands. The northern most group of the Bahamas.

I had absolutely no idea I was about to discover the place that would capture my heart for the next fifty years. At the time, it was simply our honeymoon destination. It would become much more than that.

Green Turtle Cay and its Settlement of New Plymouth

We arrived in the Bahamas just months before the country gained its independence from Great Britain in July of 1973. Many residents of the Abacos had hoped to remain under the British Crown but were unsuccessful in their efforts. The Turks and Caicos Islands, however, still remain British to this day. At least we can say ‘We were in the Bahamas when they were still British’.

From the old Treasure Cay airport (by the way Treasure Cay is not a Cay but the name of the resort area) we boarded a ferry for Green Turtle Cay. Along the way it made several stops before reaching the Green Turtle Club. With stops along the way, it was only a half hour ride. To me it felt like driving at another world. I stood watching the crystal-clear water slip beneath the boat, already knowing this was exactly what we had come to find.

Waiting on the dock was John Moore and his wife, the managers of the Green Turtle Club. Greeting arriving guests personally and with a hand shake was simply what they did in those days. There was no busy front desk or hurried check-in. Just a warm Bahamian welcome that immediately made us feel less like customers and more like old friends who had finally arrived. (You can see that same dock live, today right here). 

I've often wondered how many lives John Moore and his wife touched over the years with nothing more than genuine kindness. On one occasion, after my wife accidentally dropped her wedding ring down the bathroom sink, John calmly dismantled the plumbing and retrieved it as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

The Green Turtle Club itself was everything we had hoped for and much more than we expected. It wasn't luxurious by modern standards. It didn't need to be. It was authentic, and that was far more valuable. And it wasn’t even on a beach, rather a bay and marina on White Sound.

Green Turtle Cay in 1973 seemed almost untouched by time. There were only three or four pickup trucks on the island, used mainly for unloading supplies from the weekly freighter that stopped at the island’s settlement at New Plymouth. Golf carts had yet to appear. Most people walked, rode bicycles, or traveled by boat.

New Plymouth lay at the opposite end of the cay and home to perhaps a hundred locals who could trace their ancestry directly to the loyalists who settled these islands during the American Revolution.  Names like Bethel, Sawyer, Lowe, McIntosh, Malone, Roberts and Albury predominate and are a few who still can trace their ancestors back to those early times.

Electricity existed—but only in New Plymouth. It relied on its own it’s on again, off again generator. while the resorts operated generators of their own with the same issues. Power outages were simply accepted as another part of island life. Before long we learned that perhaps the most important item to pack for an Abaco vacation was a flashlight. We eventually bought one at the local hardware store.

Looking back now, I smile at what we accepted without a second thought. Reliable electricity was a luxury. Telephones were scarce. CB radios provided much of the communication between homes, businesses and boats. Fresh water came largely from rain collected in cisterns, and during dry periods it was delivered by tanker boat. No R/O yet. Nobody complained.

The ocean beach was a 15 minute walk to the other side of the island via a narrow path all the while being serenaded by Bahama warblers. It was all I’d was hoping for and it provided lovely off shore  barrier reefs, for all the snorkeling you want - lobster too.

People spent their evenings chatting at the Clubs Tipsy Bar. Visitors would more often than not become regulars, and regulars often became longtime friends. We had come searching for a quiet island where we could rent a boat. Instead, we found something far more valuable. We found a place that felt like home.  And my case of Island Fever had just become chronic.

Green Turtle Club

The Green Turtle Club would remain our home during the early days of visiting the Abacos. At that time it was owned by the Charlesworth family, who regularly dined each evening at a long table in the main dining room with their guests. It wasn't unusual for them to invite one or two couples to join them, often along with the club managers. In those days we became familiar faces, and those invitations began coming our way. I remember thinking, "We've made the big leagues."

One evening we found ourselves dining with a friendly German expatriate named George Nowak, a former club manager. At the time he was simply George. None of us realized he would later become one of the Bahamas' best-known entertainers—The Barefoot Man. That, however, is another story, and one he tells much better than I ever could in his biography. Today he lives on Grand Cayman.

Another dinner remains especially vivid in my memory. Seated next to me was an older gentleman, probably in his mid-seventies, whose name unfortunately escapes me. He had white hair, a weathered face and the quiet confidence of someone completely at home on the sea.

Each May he cruised the Abacos alone from Florida aboard a twenty-six-foot boat that resembled a classic New England lobster boat. It carried a single 175-horsepower outboard and a small Honda kicker he used while crossing the Little Bahama Bank at trawler speed to conserve fuel. He anchored out every night and explored the islands entirely on his own.

He was leaving the following morning for the reefs north of Green Turtle before beginning his trip back to Florida. I remember wishing I had another day simply to sit with him and hear more of his stories.

Over the years we returned to Abaco whenever we could. We've visited in every season. We spent one memorable New Year's holiday there when temperatures dipped into the fifties and wood-burning stoves glowed throughout the settlement. We were there only two weeks after 9-11, when the fear of flying was high and  tourism had nearly disappeared and the islands were quieter than we had ever seen them.

No matter the season or the circumstances, Abaco always welcomed us back. It had become more than a destination. It had become part of our lives.

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By then my wife's parents had also settled permanently in Delray Beach. During those early years, before our children were old enough to travel, we would often leave Tom and Susie with their grandparents and make a quick trip across to Abaco.

As soon as they were old enough, they became regular visitors too.

One of our favorite stops was the Sea View Restaurant in New Plymouth, operated by Maxine McIntosh. Over time we became good friends with Maxine and her family. A photograph of us together still appears on the History page of my website. The New York Times published an article mentioning the Green Turtle Club,  Miss Emily’s and unbelievablythe Sea View Restaurant. I sent Maxine a copy. She proudly framed it and hung it on the restaurant wall. 

In New Plymouth, the Islands Hot Spot was ‘Miss Emily's Blue Bee Bar”  and a Green Turtle’s landmark.  Covering the walls and ceiling are dollar bills and hundreds of business cards from all over the world. Initially it was  the private airline pilots favorite watering hole. It is she who concocted the Bahamas official drink the Goombay Smash. Miss Emily eventually passed away, but the traditions of her "establishment" are now being run by her daughter Violet.

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Getting to Abaco in those days was surprisingly easy. An early morning American Airlines flight from Islip, Long Island, with a connection through Fort Lauderdale, could have us eating lunch at the Green Turtle Club the very same day. Compared with today's travel, it seemed effortless. 

The GTC’s bartender, Brendal—who would later become well known for his dive shop—had an amazing talent. He often had half a dozen chess games going simultaneously while mixing drinks and carrying on conversations with patrons seated at the bar.

During one visit he introduced us to an expat and  former Broadway dancer who had settled on Green Turtle Cay. The following morning she was sailing to Marsh Harbour and invited us along. We happily accepted.

It was our first visit to Marsh Harbour and, from there, our first ferry ride to Hope Town, The Abaco Cays other settlement on Elbow Cay. It main attraction is their famous kerosene fired, mechanically wound, Red and White Striped Lighthouse that still operates today. It is seen in many of the Bahamas travel brochures. That simple day trip taught us something important. There was far far more to Abaco than Green Turtle Cay alone.

Beyond Abaco

There was no letting up with my Island Fever.

Besides our many trips to Abaco, we found ourselves exploring other Caribbean islands whenever the opportunity arose. We visited Antigua, Guadeloupe two times and each for two weeks at a ClubMed with our kids - fantastic. We’ve  visited St. Martin - the French side we preferred and of course, just across the way, French St. Barts, the choice the rich and famous — we could only afford three nights there.  I even visited Montserrat  before its volcano erupted in June ’97, which forever changed the island. That particular part of the trip was for business, if you can believe that (sea island cotton).

1980

During the mid-1980s our attention turned farther west—to Hawaii.

We enrolled the kids in a camp near Haleʻiwa on Oahu's beautiful North Shore, giving us the chance to do a little island hopping on our own. Maui and Kauai quickly found their way onto our itinerary. Inter island hopping was a piece of cake. Aloha Airlines flew between the major islands almost hourly. Just go to the airport and get in line for your island of choice.

The islands of Hawaii were magnificent, we booked Waikiki for three days but left after two and headed north to the, so ofter over looked, ‘North Shore’ at Haleʻiwa near the kids camp eventually dropping them off. The weather seemed almost perfect. Gentle trade winds blew every day and temperature remained constant about 80. Lush green mountains rose dramatically from turquoise waters, while towering surf crashed endlessly against the shoreline. 

As mentioned, we particularly loved the understated north shore of Oahu. I remember walking the beach  alone one nigh when I came across three Hawaiians sitting in their chairs chatting. Each had a fishing rod with their lines in the water. I stopped to chat about local lore. when I heard a bell ringing. As it turned out they all had, what I’d call dinner bells attached to the tip of their rods. One of them was signaling tomorrow nights dinner is on the line. Turned out to be a 3-4 lb.Trevally. Of course I never heard of a Trevally (Ulua), but was told they can get to be over 50 lbs!

Maui is picture perfect especially it’s settlements, particularly Lahaina The historic capital of the Hawaiian Kingdom.  It’s the famous for its huge banyan tree, Lahaina Harbor, art galleries, restaurants, and whaling history. For some adventure we rented a car and take ‘The Road to Hana (Hana Highway) it’s a legendary 60+ mile scenic drive along Maui’s northeastern coast. It supposedly has over 620 curves, 50 one-lane bridges, surrounded by lush rainforests and water falls. The down side was the thought of making a u-turn and heading back the same day, so we decided to spend the night at the Hana Maui Resort before heading back the next day. I can say it was the most expensive resort/hotel that I’ve ever stayed- ever anywhere. Under the circumstances it was worth it.

We also spent a couple days in Kaua’i , known as the “Garden Island,” it features stunning natural landmarks like the Napali Coast and Waimea Canyon, offering hiking, sightseeing and photograpic opportunities. Or relax at Hanalei Bay, and snorkel in their crystal-clear waters. We rented a car and did  it all. Our hang out turned out to be Bloody Mary’s oceanfront restaurant and bar located in Kapaa  on Kauaʻi’s Coconut Coast. 

Upon concluding out Island Hopping in Hawaii, for a while we seriously considered retiring there. But that was In the pre-boom tourism era of the late '80s. Places like like the low-key Hawaiian hangouts disappeared or converted to today's polished resort dining. Think open-air seating, local ingredients, and a focus on island flavors without heavy commercialization that was the 80’s. Reality intervened -  it was simply too expensive and too far from family and lifelong friends.

Our dream remained elsewhere.

1987

A few years later, that dream finally came true.

In 1987, circumstances allowed me to take two weeks away from work. We knew what direction, The South Pacific, but had a tough time deciding as there are so many islands from which to choose.

The Polynesian Triangle stretches from New Zealand to Easter Island, to Hawaii. Within Polynesia, the home of the Maori peoples, you will find the Cook, Tonga and Samoa island groups. And most importantly where that famous mutiny took place, French Polynesia. The latter is broken down down into five main groups, The Austral, Gambier, Tuamotu and the Marquesas Islands and the most familiar of all, the Society Islands the mother of which is Tahiti, plus Moorea, and Bora Bora to name but three. (In case you are wondering Fiji is in Melanesia along with Vanuatu and the Soloman Islands and others).

The day came when we boarded a UTA French Airlines DC10 flight bound for Papeete, Tahiti the capital city of the Society Islands. — The destination I had dreamed about ever since seeing Mutiny on the Bounty years before. We were off to Tahiti, Moorea and Bora Bora. Also to be included was a day stop at the Tetiaroa atoll but needed an invite, as it is private, owned by the Marlin Brando family. There is a resort there at $3K+ a night — so no way. The good news for those interested, the lease on the property runs out in 2065.

The islands were everything I had imagined—and more. As we stepped off our plane and into the terminal, a beautiful young native woman noticed us looking around and knew we were tourists. She ran up to us, smiled and placed on the both of us a freshly made Lei of Frangipani blossoms accompanied by their mesmerizing fragrance. She then simply ran off and said ‘enjoy your stay’. We looked at each other in disbelief.

I have to admit, Abaco finally had some serious competition.

The Society Islands of French Polynesia

Bora Bora with surrounding Motu's

Millions of years ago, volcanic eruptions thrust these islands upward from the floor of the Pacific Ocean. Close around them, coral reefs slowly began to grow in the warm, shallow waters. As time passed, the volcanic islands gradually began sinking back into the sea while the coral reefs continued growing upward toward the sunlight. Eventually the reefs broke the surface, forming tiny islands known in Polynesian as ‘Motu’. These narrow strips of land are usually separated from their mountainous parent island by a brilliant turquoise lagoon. Access from the open ocean is often possible only through one or two narrow passes in the reef, making navigation challenging. Given enough time, the original volcanic island disappears beneath the sea altogether, leaving behind a necklace of low-lying motu surrounding an open lagoon. That is an Atoll.  I should mention there is a cluster of  close to 80 Atolls in French Polynesia and thus thousands of Motu. They are staggeringly beautiful.  They are part of the ‘Tuamotu Archipelago’ whose elevation is typically 10+/- feet. Around 16,000–17,000 people live there spread out over the 300+/- Sq. Mi. they occupy. Believe it out not five of these Motu are large enough to accommodate an airport, a couple of which were build in WWII. Give nature over million years, and she will create one of the most beautiful sights on earth. Picture a chain of emerald islands floating between sapphire ocean and turquoise lagoon, surrounding the place where a towering mountain once stood. (An example is Bora Bora)

The Making of a Motu Long before man had crossed the sea, Or dreamed of islands yet to be, The ocean floor awoke with fire And lifted mountains ever higher. The waves embraced each newborn shore, While coral gardens slowly bore A living ring of fragile lace, Growing gently in their place. The ages passed. The mountains sighed, And little by little sank with the tide. Yet faithful coral, day by day, Reached for the sun in its silent way. Until one dawn, through sapphire seas, Appeared small isles kissed by the breeze. The Polynesians named them motu— Tiny worlds where palms now grew. Between the peaks of long ago And coral shores of sand-white glow, A lagoon of turquoise came to rest, A tranquil jewel at nature's breast. So when we walk a motu's shore, We're walking on an ancient lore— Where fire gave birth, the sea refined, And time revealed its grand design.

On one occasion we took a water taxi to Motu Tapu for a Mā'a Tahiti "Tahitian feast" and Luau in Hawaiian, where the foods is cooked in  an 'Ahimā'a  - an underground earth oven. It consists of their  traditional Whole Pig, Chicken, Fish, Octopus, Taro, Sweet Potatoes, Breadfruit, and Bananas. Coconut optional.  Afterwards is when the party begins with men and women dancing the Ōteʻa. Something happens to the psyche when you experience the  Mā'a Tahiti - sort of a Baptism.

Sadly the day finally arrived when your airplane(s) must carry you back to the east coast of the US which took about 17 hours! During the flight your heart toughs /struggles. The old song from South Pacific comes to mind of “Bali Ha'i is calling”, forever calling you back.  You should know, it’s author James Michener was actually inspired by Bora Bora, so ones sentiment is exactly the same. Some places just never let you go.

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Classic Motu

One small island left its indelible mark on me. Its name was Motu Iti — "Little Island."

When I returned home, I borrowed that name for my first boat. It later became the name of every boat that followed. It also became the name of my first website. I probably shouldn’t say here, it even became part of my email address and part of passwords too. Today it appears on my Florida license plate, and serves as a constant reminder of a tiny island halfway around the world that somehow became part of my identity. 

Compared with Hawaii, French Polynesia seemed almost fifty years behind in development. That was precisely its appeal. Rather than simply seeing the islands, we made every effort to experience them. We accepted invitations into Polynesian homes, attended local gatherings, visited cultural centers, and immersed ourselves in the Maori culture as much as visitors possibly could. We stopped by the Paul Gauguin Museum as part of our circumnavigation of Tahiti by scooter. Needless to say they are too poor to afford one authentic Gauguin painting. 

One conversation has remained with me ever since. On our first evening in Tahiti, before departing for the outer islands, we were sitting at the Beachcomber Bar talking with another American traveler. He casually mentioned this was his second trip. Nothing unusual about that—until he explained that his first visit had ended only a month earlier. When he returned home to Boston, he closed his business, rented out his house, packed his belongings and flew back to Tahiti with no timetable for returning.

Now that.....was a serious case of Island Fever.

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When we eventually boarded our flight home, I brought two souvenirs with me. One was a bottle of Hinano beer that still sits on my bookshelf today. The other was the name Motu Iti. The bottle reminds me of where I had been. The name reminds me of where part of me still remains.

I have had a standing challenge since those days: I'd like to meet someone who can sho me more contrasting travel where they spent two weeks in Tahiti and then, two weeks later, found themselves in Iceland. The latter case - Lopi Business.

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During those same years I had become president of our family business. About a decade after my father's passing, an offer was made to purchase the company. My mother, my sister and I agreed it was time to sell. The sale was completed in 1988. I remained with the new owners for another couple years before moving permanently to Longboat Key / Sarasota, Florida.

There was an interesting twist to the sale. Our family yarn and craft business became part of a larger collection of leisure time companies that included SCUBAPRO, Minn Kota electric trolling motors and Old Town Canoes, among others. One unexpected benefit was that I suddenly found myself equipped with an entirely new set of scuba gear. Not a bad fringe benefit for someone suffering from Island Fever.

Around this same time another interest began to grow.

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Years earlier I had learned computer programming using IBM's RPG II language. Now, With more free time in Florida, I became fascinated with a new language called HTML. The Internet was still in its infancy yet I had the good sense to register the domain name MotuIti.com. I think it cost 10 bucks. Then I created a simple website filled with photographs, music and my impressions of the South Pacific.

MotuIti.com still exists today, although it has grown somewhat over the years with the addition of a couple of Updates. I also resurrected the crossed-palm logo I had designed years earlier for the Inter-national Island Hoppers, giving it a fresh hand-drawn style with added colors that became the ‘logo’ of Motu Iti. Without realizing it, my Logo had just taken it's second step.

Home Waters

1990

Moving to Longboat Key in 1990 opened an entirely new chapter in my life.

For years we had flown to Abaco, but now we were close enough to experience the islands the way they were meant to be seen—from the water. Naturally, my first boat had to be named
Motu Iti.

She was a 29-foot Phoenix Sport Fisherman, and in 1993 I made my first of six boating expeditions across Lake Okeechobee then the Gulf Stream to the Abacos. Every trip was different. Every trip by boat added another dimension  to our appreciation of those beautiful islands by adding the fun of getting there.

In addition to my first crossing, another voyage remains especially memorable—a solo crossing I made in 1999 aboard my 26-foot Glacier Bay catamaran from Longboat Key to the Abacos and back. Like many of our  cruises, the adventure still remains documented on line here.

Five years later I'd make a parallel trip on the same boat. It would be my last voyage by boat—and my longest: six weeks, with a new friend. As mention, my Abaco excursions are written about on line here

My original MotuIti.com website had now begun attracting visitors interested not only in French Polynesia but also in the Abacos. Gradually I added more and more information about Abaco until it became obvious that the subject deserved a website of its own.

2006

By 2006 I registered AbacoEscape.com. I think domain registration was up to 12 bucks by then.

The familiar crossed-palm logo returned once again, this time in new colors, welcoming visitors to a site devoted entirely to the islands we had come to know so well.

What began as a few pages soon became dozens. The website was reorganized in 2011 and completely redesigned again in 2014 as it continued to grow. At one point our Google rankings consistently placed us at the very top for searches such as "Abaco Guide," "Conch Salad," "Abaco Blue Holes," "Abaco Art," "Abaco Air Carriers," and many others.

I'd like to think AbacoEscape introduced thousands of visitors to islands they might otherwise never have discovered. If it encouraged even a few people to visit Abaco, then it served its purpose. I do know we did more to promote Abaco tourism than any other website.

Of course, it wasn't just the islands themselves that kept drawing us back. It was the people. The Abaconians are a remarkable blend of backgrounds and cultures, but they share qualities that impressed us from the very beginning—kindness, honesty, hard work, deep faith, and a willingness to help one another.

Some of our favorite memories have little to do with beaches or boats. They involve conversations. Conversations on docks, in grocery stores, over dinner. Conversations that often began with complete strangers and ended with long friendships. It was obvious  that repeat visitors tended to share the same affections for Abaco that we did.

One friendship has lasted for decades. Larry and Tiny Thompson who were staying at the Abaco Inn on Elbow Cay became regular rendezvous companions whenever our visits happened to overlap which was often. Larry was a retired NASA engineer who worked on the Gemini and Apollo space programs, helping build the simulators used to train America's astronauts. One day in conversation, he casually mentioned he was the father of comedian Carrot Top and that he designed many of the famous props used throughout his son's career. You simply never know who you'll meet in the islands. And later we met the Carrot when performing in Sarasota.

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The Abacos a Poem by Sandy Estabrook I know an island where lovers go, not far from Florida, called Abaco. Where an island beach is easy to find. A place alone where two can entwine. A spot to rest, time to unwind. All civilization now left far behind. A venue like this is one of a kind. After a hard day of playing with your number one, your island beach tryst, now is done. At a water's edge-bar, you gather for fun. The mixing of juice and rum has begun. You chat with new friends during the setting sun. Aside from Romance there’s much to do. But you must forget cell phones and e-mail too. Have a love of the sea, it’s the islands' glue. Fish, snorkel or sail in their oceans blue. A boat is a must, even a canoe. On a hammock we lay watching the sky, It provides twinkling stars in an endless supply, as a myriad of meteors go fleeting by. This is my Abacos in May, June, and July. My heaven on earth, I’m trying to imply. I’ve been going to this place since long ago. And I’ve said all I can, to get you to know. About the islands I love, called Abaco. © 2002 May not be used in part or full without permission

Then there is Vernon Malone. To know Hope Town is to know Vernon. A seventh-generation Bahamian, Vernon owns Vernon's Grocery and the Upper Crust Bakery, where he has baked his famous Bahamian bread for decades. He’ll make a pie or cake for you to order. Baking bread is only part of his story. Vernon has also served for many years as the lay preacher at St. James' Methodist Church. During that time he has officiated at well over nine hundred weddings. In 2007 Debbie and I were married in Hope Town by Justice Vernon, becoming wedding number 618 of his remarkable career. It was my 2nd marriage and two years later Debbie's son Todd and his wife Mary flew to Hope Town to be married by Vernon as well. Their ceremony became wedding number 738. Larry and Tiny Thompson stood in for us as best man and maid of honor, and afterward everyone celebrated together at Ray's Place at the Hope Town Harbour Lodge. You were still allowed to smoke a cigar back then. I've often joked that Vernon should someday organize a reunion of all the couples he has married over the years. I suspect it would fill more than one church. The complete story, along with photographs of both weddings, appeared among the updates on AbacoEscape.com.

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Another memory stands out. Island Hopper No. 2, cousin Johnny and wife Maureen had flown in for a week. We were sitting on the deck at Captain Jack's in Hope Town with local friends Roy & Katie both ex-Abaco Inn employees. (I think I forgot to stamp John’s IIH passport).

Anyway it  was Thursday, so, Trivial Pursuit night. Our table formed a team called MotuIti. Our team won the first round so Captain Jack’s bought us all a round of drinks. Then I noticed the ferry pulling in to the Hope Town Harbour Lodge next door and on it was my sister Beth with her husband Jack who quickly unloaded their bags and ran over to join us. Too bad they just missed out on our free Goombay Smashes. Again we had the opportunity to share our fondness of the Abacos with my sister and her husband, adding this trip my cousin and his wife. Florida schools were on an Aug/May schedule so there were many families with kids on the Cays in June.

In Abaco there seems to be quite a bit of shooting going on — in the form of a movie, TV or country video shoot all of which were on our websites video page. One spring we learned that the television comedy Scrubs was filming scenes in Hope Town. Through nothing more than good timing, Debbie and I found ourselves serving as extras. If you watch carefully, you can spot us sitting at the bar inside Harbour's Edge on Hope Town. But don't blink. Our moment of television fame lasts only two or three seconds.

Another memorable encounter occurred during an earlier boating trip while we were staying at Sea Spray Marina. The cast and crew of the television fishing series Fishing Fever were there filming an episode for ABC and ESPN.  Among the guest celebrities were Bob Pine, remembered from CHiPs, and Robert Fuller, star of Emergency!, Laramie and Wagon Train.

Unfortunately, we arrived just one day too late to meet Margaux Hemingway. According to those who were there, disagreements with members of the production had led to her dramatic departure.  Sadly during that same trip we heard she took her life. That was 1996. Even now, that memory remains sobering.

On another visit, ‘Excitement spread quickly across tiny Man-O-War Cay’. Word traveled from dock to dock that country singer Kenny Chesney would be performing that evening at the Dock & Dine  restaurant while filming scenes for "Old Blue Chair" music video. We joined the crowd. Rather than behaving like a celebrity, Kenny spent the evening talking with local residents, singing with the children, and making everyone feel welcome. It felt more like neighbors gathering on a dock to enjoy an evening together.

And speaking of country videos, Abaco has always been a second home for the country folks starting with Burl Ives who had a home on Green Turtle Cay. He wasn't just an owner — he became an honorary Abaconian as he was known to stop and chat with locals, fish, and enjoy the laid-back lifestyle. More recently in addition to Kenny, here are a couple other Country music videos shot in Abaco during my days going there, by Scarletta and "People are Crazy" by Billy Currington.

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During one of our fly over trips I should mention we took the time to explore the Mainland - The Big Island of Abaco,  top to bottom. Here we stayed at 'Sanddollar Dreams' the home of one of our advertisers right on the beach at the Treasure Cay Resort. And we would begin right there.

It may surprise you but, Treasure Cay is not a Cay "any more" but rather the name of the resorts, region and airport serving that area of Great Abaco Island. Its beach boasts the most beautiful crescent white sand beach in all the Abacos. Accommodations are in the form of condos, villas and homes which the resorts manage or private agency rents to vacationers.

The Marina here is quite large and in late spring / early summer there usually is a Deep Sea Fishing Tournament or two going on. In our case there was, and that evening, the owner of the winning boat said "drinks for everyone"! That was for all night but only Mudslides!. There must have been six blenders going all night and we lost count after three each..

Instead of a rental boat, we rented a car and covered Abaco to its north including Blue Holes, Wild horses (Barbs - that once roamed there) and the settlements of Coopers Town up to Crown Haven and  Fox Town where you will find the convenience store "Tits Takeaway" 

From Treasure Cay headed south we  would check in Marsh Harbour’s ‘Lofty Fig Villas’ which we used as base for explorations to the south. The first being Little Harbour and Pete’s pub and Foundry. Yes a real operating foundry and then to Cherokee and points south down to the Hole in the Wall lighthouse and Sandy Point. I mention this as the area of Abaco’s Mainland is so often overlooked. For instance, Sandy Point is probably my favorite settlement on the mainland.  It’s a charming and bustling little settlement as many folks living there are employed by Disney for their “out island stop” for their cruise ships. It was “Gorda Cay” now renamed by Disney to  Castaway Cay. But don’t worry—it’s offshore and cruise ships visitors are not offered, nor permitted ashore in Abaco (so far).

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Serenity to Shambles

Like so many good things in life, I assumed Abaco would always be there waiting, calling.

We were scheduled for a fly over in early fall of 2012 when along came Hurricane Sandy preventing our departure.  She was a serious hurricane for the Bahamas, but its effects were uneven across the Bahamas. It struck as a Category 2 hurricane, as it moved through the northwestern Bahamas to the Atlantic where it,  paralleled the coast and went on to become the infamous "Superstorm Sandy" as it slammed into the northeastern United States.  While the Abacos suffered minimal damage, New York and the northeastern United States bore the brunt of its fury.

Ironically, for someone named Sandy, I have never cared much for hurricanes. In any case we were slow to plan another visit. While true to form, the people of Abaco did what they had always done- rebuild. We had seen it before after Hurricanes Dennis, Jeanne, Frances and Floyd. Each time the cleanup seemed almost miraculous. By the following season visitors often found little evidence that a major storm had passed through. That resilience had become part of the character of the island peoples.

Before we scheduled our next visit, along came Hurricane Dorian. Only this time the Abaconians were pitted against the forces of nature not once but twice.

2019

It was  September 1, 2019, Labor Day weekend. Dorian was a Category 5 hurricane that made landfall at Marsh Harbour, the commercial heart of Abaco. It then barely moved for two days, slowly crawling at Cat 5, across the little Bahama Bank to Freeport on Grand Bahama Island.

The words repeated over and over in news reports were “devastating” and “catastrophic” and bordering on Apocalyptic. And those words were not exaggerations.

Entire communities were wiped out, changed forever. Homes disappeared. Businesses vanished. Lives were lost. Communications were sporadic for weeks.  The Abaco, so many of us knew, would never be quite the same again.

Just as the overwhelming rebuilding slowly began, another disaster arrived. This time it came all the way from China.  COVID-19. The Bahamian Government shut down travel to and from Abaco and Grand Bahama. Any form of international travel came to an abrupt halt just as the destruction from Dorian was beginning to be sorted out. For nearly two years the Abaco Islands were isolated from much of the outside world. The combination of the one two punch of Dorian and immediately the Wuhan Virus created challenges unlike anything Abaco had ever faced.

The Documentation and content of AbacoEscape.com, built over decades of my personal exploration, could no longer be relied upon. Restaurants had disappeared. Resorts had closed. Ferry schedules no longer existed. Businesses relocated. Familiar landmarks were gone. And sadly I have to mention our dear friend and bartender of the now completely razed, Hope Town Harbour Lodge / TV Naturalist, Gary the Explorer”, well he caught Covid and is no longer with us. He truly was everybody’s friend.

For the first time, I realized AbacoEscape.com could no longer tell visitors, "This is today's Abaco." It could only tell them about yesterday's. The site's header bannor read;

I had suspended all advertising fees on AbacoEscape.com and offered free ads for anyone, not that it would do much good. At least it served as notice that a vendor was open for business. By 2022 encouraging reports and YouTube boaters videos began showing signs of recovery. New buildings appeared where old ones had stood. Businesses reopened. Boats returned to the harbors. Yet scars remained. Some still do.

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As I write these words on July 4, 2026, I am eighty-four years old. I have not returned to Abaco since just prior to Superstorm Sandy. Because of Dorian, COVID, and the simple realities that come with age, I have accepted that my traveling days to those islands are behind me.

With that realization came another difficult decision.
I pulled the plug on AbacoEscape.com. It's Home Page as it was before Dor1an is Here.

I've saved a must-see video page of the Effects of Dorian, It is here.

Rather than simply allowing AbacoEscape to disappear, I transferred the domain name and much of its content, photographs, videos, articles and history to Amanda Dietrich of AbacoSun.com. Amanda is an Abaco descendant with a home near the New Plymouth ferry dock, and it is my hope that portions of the website will eventually find new life through her efforts.

Whether that ultimately happens is less important than knowing the information has been placed into caring hands. Perhaps another generation will continue telling Abaco's story.

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Music of all types has always been a preoccupation of mine. Add that to html coding fun, I have come up with numerous playlists/players placed on related websites scattered about on the web. Here are three of my many Playlists that relate to this page:

Bahamian Music Playlist & Player
Caribbean Playlist & Player
Polynesian Playlist & Player