Coconut dreams

If we weren't home from our holiday, this is where I’d be today – attending the Coconut Fest on the east end of Grand Bahama Island.

The palms on last week’s post are the same kind used to decorate the bandstand pictured here. And yes, they go all the way around.

Among treats we’ll be missing are coconut tarts. For the camera’s sake, a half of one survived long enough for this shot. And somewhat weirdly, this was exactly the shape of the moon in this morning's pre-dawn sky.

If there’s ever another time for the Bahamas, I’d like to try to make a point of being there for Easter Monday, as that’s the date for this annual festival that celebrates the bounty of the coconut. Coconut tarts, coconut buns, and something called a coconut 'jimmy' -- these sound like a doughy concoction with coconut between its layers.

Oh, and just in case you need a better look than the peek provided in the photo above, this is the beach. Crowded, eh…

November Ferry to (and from) Gabriola

I can’t think how many years it’s been that I’ve been meaning to read Malcolm Lowry’s novel, October Ferry to Gabriola. And I suppose for at least as long, I’ve been meaning to actually take the ferry there myself.

Yesterday, I accomplished one of those goals, finally visiting this seemingly hardest-to-get-to Gulf Islands.

It’s all but impossible to get there as a foot passenger, as the ferry to Gabriola is nowhere near either of the arrival points from the mainland. Luckily, I was travelling with a friend, so expenses were less of an issue and I drove.

We were there to take part in a reading for the League of Canadian Poets -- a benefit to raise funds memorializing the poet (and painter and writer of prose), P. K. Page. Here’s my colleague and co-reader, Sandy Shreve, hypnotizing the crowd with her poem about crows.

It was one of those crisply perfect autumn days. We even got a quick show from a few orcas in the bay.

From what I’ve been able to learn in reading about Lowry’s book, the main character doesn’t quite make it to the island. At least I’m lucky enough to say that I’ve finally set foot on Gabriola, even if this visit was much too short.

Midpoint

Both timewise and geographically, we're at the midpoint of our trip -- and a point is all that it is. We're on Ocracoke Island, one of the bits of land that make up North Carolina's Outer Banks.

Only fourteen miles long and mostly a stroll wide, it's barely a dot on the Atlantic.

Besides being charmingly beautiful, it's filled with history -- some of it dark, as Blackbeard worked these shores, luring boats onto sandbars then plundering their wares.

The photo above was taken near Teach's Hole, one of the places here named after the famous pirate (who was also known as Edward Teach).

Today's island population seems dominated not by pirates, but by much-too-tame ducks. Mallards have staked their claims nearly everywhere you look. A pair tried inviting themselves for dinner last night, only they weren't volunteering to jump on the barbie.

They didn't seem to get it when I said, "I don't feed ducks, I eat them." Still, they did begin to shy away when we mentioned hoisin sauce.

Starting today, we'll be heading north then west -- all part of the route that will eventually, we trust, lead us back to that other coast and home.