Cuts, colds, an aching head or back often sends the sufferer scurrying to a nearby drugstore, physician, or in extreme cases to the emergency room of a local hospital. The availability of medical care is not something that most Americans think about in terms of availability. Americans might complain about the outrageous cost of that same care. Nonetheless, it is available.
Traveling in some of the more remote areas of the Bahamas this winter, I've learned that many of the sparsely populated islands don't have a full time doctor. On others, a doctor might fly in once a week or a nurse might be on call. Over time, Bahamians living on some of the more remote and underdeveloped islands acquired an important oral knowledge of herbal lore that would become referred to as bush medicine.
Some of this knowledge came from their African heritage. Many of the same remedies used during the slavery era in Bahamian history are used today. Mary Rolle, a grandmother of two and resident of Nassau, grew up in the settlement of Rolleville on Barratare. She explained that while growing up her parents treated their children's illness with native plants growing on the island.
As a child Rolle suffered from asthma which her mother treated with a plant called Life Leaf. "My mother would beat Life Leaf in a cloth and squeeze out the juice before mixing it with butter and some lemon or lime. She would heat the mixture and give it to me to drink," Rolle continued. "We didn't have doctors or drugstores."
Rolle now lives in Nassau and has forgotten much of the natural pharmacology routinely used by her mother so many years ago. She said that mothers gave their children catnip for worms and white sage for itching . "We used to remove the thorns from the prickly pear and use the meat to wash our hair," Rolle remembered.
Martha Hanna-Smith hails from the settlement of Delectable Bay on Acklins Island. She grew up drinking bush teas and had never heard of Lipton or Earl Gray.
As a young girl, Hanna-Smith took notice that some of the teas she consumed were also used to treat illness. The Fever Grass tea that she drank with breakfast could also be used to bring down a fever. Her fascination with bush medicine grew. She would ultimately author the book Bush Medicine in Bahamian Folk Tradition, published in 2005.
In the book Hanna-Smith tells how her father insisted that his children drink a bitter draught consisting of a half cup of warm water with a few drops of juice from the Aloe plant each morning.
Historically, Aloe has been used in the home for cuts and burns. The healing plant can also be found in many lotions and salves around the house. Traditional Bahamian bush medicine also uses the plant as a tea to increase appetite, move bowels, help with indigestion and to fight colds. According to bush medicine practices, heating and applying the gel like juice will help with infected cuts and the pain of sprains.
Hanna-Smith's book lists plants for backache, blisters, blood pressure control, colds, constipation, coughs, diabetes, fever, flu, headaches, and hangovers. Native Bahamian flora has been used to treat hiccups, heartburn, rashes as well as the childhood illness of measles, mumps and chicken pox. Thistle, Papaya, Scourge Needle and Mistletoe are offered as a cure for ringworm .
For increased male virility, Bahamians have relied on teas of Love Vine, Five Fingers, Gum Elemi, Striping Back, Sweet Margaret and Wild Pine. One formula instructs the practitioner to gather all the the above ingredients, boil together and strain, add sugar to taste, some brandy, and evaporated milk. The brew is then poured into a bottle and steeped for about three weeks. Once imbibed, it is said to build energy in a man.
Locals on Ragged Island say that the Love Vine lives up to its name. It is said to prevent sexual weakness. Bahamians beat the parasitic stringy yellow orange vine and boil it into a strong tea. A bus driver on Grand Bahama Island, who wished to remain nameless, swears by this remedy. It seems like a lot of work, but is probably cheaper that the famous purple pill. Perhaps the pharmaceutical companies are already researching this bush medicine remedy?
One drawback of bush medicine is that the names of plants can vary from island to island. Hanna-Smith explains in her book that Buttercup is known as Miss William in San Salvador and Three Days Bush on Acklins. Portions can also vary as a handful of leaves to one could be quite a bit different from one person to another.
For nearly 500 years, bush medicine from an Amerindian and African heritage, played an important role in Bahamian history. It is a tradition that is fading away as barriers to modern medicine on many of the remote family islands have been removed.
Nassau, on New Providence Island, offers a state of the art modern medical facility that serves the entire Bahamas. Soon a second hospital, now under construction, will open in Georgetown, Great Exuma. The new hospital will serve the southern Bahamas, making a shorter trip for those who need treatment for a full spectrum of illness. Currently, emergencies from the Out Islands are taken by plane or boat to Nassau to the modern medical facility there.
At one time the quality of life for Bahamians depended on bush medicine. Pharmaceutical companies around the globe now research some of that knowledge. Wouldn't it be a miracle if White Sailor's Cap or Snake Root could be synthesized to produce a cure for some types of cancer?
March 12, 2013
February 19, 2013
Rogue dog
It was sometime around noon when the small brown dog went overboard. No one will ever know whether he jumped off the boat to follow his owner Captain Mike, who was in the dinghy, heading towards town to do some shopping. Perhaps the excited pooch lost its footing as it trotted back and forth along the deck excitedly barking at a couple of bottle nose dolphins that swim in the harbor. This day there would be no witnesses to solve the mystery.
Bandit, the wayward pup, would not be able to climb back onto the boat. It wasn't a good day for pup, or human, to go swimming in the beautiful aquamarine waters of Elizabeth Harbor, Great Exuma, Bahamas. North East winds blew a steady 22-knots, with higher gusts, as ominous gray clouds raced across the sky. Boats, even a couple of hundred yards from the lee shore, bobbed up and down in the anchorages. White caps skipped across the top of the two-foot chop in the middle of the harbor. Dinghies swayed back and forth attached to the back of the anchored boats. Not many cruisers would venture out. It was a good day to work inside the boat, read a book, or watch a movie.
The pup's floating home just happened to be named, Rogue Dog. It was a small trawler with blue trim. On this dismal day, the boat was anchored near town on the windward side of the harbor, not affording much protection from the weather. Boaters who can't wait for the wind to die down often take the big boat across the one-and-a-half-mile wide harbor if it is necessary to get groceries, propane, water, gasoline, or Internet service. While there is little protection from North to South winds, it does provide a short, wet and bouncy, dinghy ride into town.
Finishing business in town, the captain of Rogue Dog approached his winter home. Nearing the big boat he became alarmed when his faithful 20-lb cairn terrier did not come to greet him. The alarm quickly became a feeling of dread for the elderly captain as calls for his precious four legged friend went unanswered.
When the first call for help came through the VHF radios across the harbor, it was hard to understand the frantic man's plea for assistance. "Can someone help? My small brown dog went overboard within the last two hours. Can someone help me search? Maybe he made it to shore?"the anguished man pleaded. The broken voice of Captain Mike repeated the call, explaining that he had a dinghy but his vision was poor and he would need someone to look for the dog along the shore.
Several boaters answered the call. The captains of Anania and Water Witch boarded their dinghies for the treacherous wet and lumpy ride across the harbor. One boater suggested that Captain Mike determine a search area by dropping something overboard and watch the direction that wind and waves carried the item. After a few minutes several other brave cruisers began the long trip across the bumpy harbor to aid in the search.
Those of us who could not assist sent out thoughts and prayers for a positive outcome. After a couple of hours, dinghies began the roughest part of the trip back to their boats. The VHF radio squawked with inquiries about the dog. The early news was not good, but boaters were hopeful that the small dog might have been carried down island and made landfall without getting slammed against the jagged iron rock shore line.
Captain Tom from Anania rode with Bandit's elderly master along the shoreline and cays. On a last trip, a long shot and an upwind leg, the elderly man,who could not see well, heard a weak but familiar bark. As the two men in the dinghy neared the deserted shrub covered cay, Captain Tom spotted the wet and tired dog.
Against all odds the rouge dog had paddled against the wind and the waves and made it to the small cay a half mile North and East of where his misadventure began. No one ever dreamed that the dog would have paddled against the waves. It was only a fluke that the two rescuers decided to make the pass upwind of Rogue Dog.
Needless to say, there weren't many dry eyes on Imagine, when at 6:00 p.m., Captain Mike announced on the VHF that Bandit was safe at home, albeit a little wet and tired. With relief and joy in his voice, he thanked all the cruisers who participated in the search and invited them to his boat when the weather cleared to meet his pup and to share a drink.
No sooner had Captain Mike finished when the clicking began. Across the harbor boaters were clicking the talk button on their VHF microphones. That's a boaters way of saying, good job! As the sun set all was well in Elizabeth Harbor. I'm betting that one small brown rogue dog was getting some extra loving that night.
It never ceases to amaze me how cruisers reach out to help other cruisers in need. It is nice to be part of this caring community to know that in an emergency, there are others who come to your aid.
Bandit, the wayward pup, would not be able to climb back onto the boat. It wasn't a good day for pup, or human, to go swimming in the beautiful aquamarine waters of Elizabeth Harbor, Great Exuma, Bahamas. North East winds blew a steady 22-knots, with higher gusts, as ominous gray clouds raced across the sky. Boats, even a couple of hundred yards from the lee shore, bobbed up and down in the anchorages. White caps skipped across the top of the two-foot chop in the middle of the harbor. Dinghies swayed back and forth attached to the back of the anchored boats. Not many cruisers would venture out. It was a good day to work inside the boat, read a book, or watch a movie.
The pup's floating home just happened to be named, Rogue Dog. It was a small trawler with blue trim. On this dismal day, the boat was anchored near town on the windward side of the harbor, not affording much protection from the weather. Boaters who can't wait for the wind to die down often take the big boat across the one-and-a-half-mile wide harbor if it is necessary to get groceries, propane, water, gasoline, or Internet service. While there is little protection from North to South winds, it does provide a short, wet and bouncy, dinghy ride into town.
Finishing business in town, the captain of Rogue Dog approached his winter home. Nearing the big boat he became alarmed when his faithful 20-lb cairn terrier did not come to greet him. The alarm quickly became a feeling of dread for the elderly captain as calls for his precious four legged friend went unanswered.
When the first call for help came through the VHF radios across the harbor, it was hard to understand the frantic man's plea for assistance. "Can someone help? My small brown dog went overboard within the last two hours. Can someone help me search? Maybe he made it to shore?"the anguished man pleaded. The broken voice of Captain Mike repeated the call, explaining that he had a dinghy but his vision was poor and he would need someone to look for the dog along the shore.
Several boaters answered the call. The captains of Anania and Water Witch boarded their dinghies for the treacherous wet and lumpy ride across the harbor. One boater suggested that Captain Mike determine a search area by dropping something overboard and watch the direction that wind and waves carried the item. After a few minutes several other brave cruisers began the long trip across the bumpy harbor to aid in the search.
Those of us who could not assist sent out thoughts and prayers for a positive outcome. After a couple of hours, dinghies began the roughest part of the trip back to their boats. The VHF radio squawked with inquiries about the dog. The early news was not good, but boaters were hopeful that the small dog might have been carried down island and made landfall without getting slammed against the jagged iron rock shore line.
Captain Tom from Anania rode with Bandit's elderly master along the shoreline and cays. On a last trip, a long shot and an upwind leg, the elderly man,who could not see well, heard a weak but familiar bark. As the two men in the dinghy neared the deserted shrub covered cay, Captain Tom spotted the wet and tired dog.
Against all odds the rouge dog had paddled against the wind and the waves and made it to the small cay a half mile North and East of where his misadventure began. No one ever dreamed that the dog would have paddled against the waves. It was only a fluke that the two rescuers decided to make the pass upwind of Rogue Dog.
Needless to say, there weren't many dry eyes on Imagine, when at 6:00 p.m., Captain Mike announced on the VHF that Bandit was safe at home, albeit a little wet and tired. With relief and joy in his voice, he thanked all the cruisers who participated in the search and invited them to his boat when the weather cleared to meet his pup and to share a drink.
No sooner had Captain Mike finished when the clicking began. Across the harbor boaters were clicking the talk button on their VHF microphones. That's a boaters way of saying, good job! As the sun set all was well in Elizabeth Harbor. I'm betting that one small brown rogue dog was getting some extra loving that night.
It never ceases to amaze me how cruisers reach out to help other cruisers in need. It is nice to be part of this caring community to know that in an emergency, there are others who come to your aid.
January 3, 2013
Timing is Everything
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| Barry Ellis of Little Farmers Cay |
After three days of rest at Grand Bahama Island, it was time to move south and east to the more southern islands of the Bahamas That is where we will spend the winter. Of course, the wind was blowing from that same direction which would mean that once again, at best Imagine would be a motor sailer, or worse... a trawler with a mast. We could stay and pray for the wind to change, or we could go. What the heck, another 24 hours of beating into the wind and we would reach the Exumas.
Exiting Bell Channel, the VHF radio surprised us with a familiar voice. It was long time Canadian boating acquaintances Brian and Yvonne Wilkins on the catamaran Options III. They were arriving in Lucaya after crossing over from Lake Worth, Fla. the night before. Traveling with them were other sailing friends, Bess Wordell and Jim St. Pierre, on the sailboat Destiny. Both boats were only a couple of miles away. We switched to a non- working channel and quickly caught up as Ed set a course for Great Harbor in The Berry Islands chain. Their timing was great, an hour later and we would not have heard them.
Under sunny skies and shouldering against three to four waves, Imagine sailed slightly off course for a more comfortable ride and to keep air in the mainsail. It was necessary to tack left and then right every couple of miles to maintain the course as we sailed towards The Berrys. A glow of light appeared on the western horizon as we approached the island chain after dark. The course kept us well east of the shallow waters surrounding The Berrys. Imagine sailed past Great Harbor and continued southeast towards Rose Island off of New Providence Island and Nassau.
White blips on the radar screen indicated the movement of other boats, their course and speed. Lights on the darkened horizon 12 or more miles out often prove to be one of the many cruise ships that frequent the area. These behemoth ships light up the darkness like bright white neon from miles away as they circle and wait for daylight to head into Freeport or Nassau. I think Cruise ship marketers plan morning arrivals so that guests awake to the clear turquoise waters as they head into port.
Daylight comes and Rose Island diminishes as Imagine now moves towards the shallow Yellow Banks. Coral heads and rocks dot the shallow area and can prove hazardous to unwary boaters. The lowest depth noticed on this trip was seven feet. Once across, the course was set for Norman's Stake that marks the entrance of Norman's Cay anchorage.
Twenty-seven hours after leaving Grand Bahama, Imagine bobbed at anchor in front of a lone palm tree on a sandy islet inside the Norman's Cay anchorage. We were the only boat anchored. We could have been depicted on paradise postcard. Forty days and 1,262 nautical miles after leaving the Sassafras River on the Chesapeake, we arrived in the southern Bahamas. Ed got the watermaker running. We took showers, ate sandwiches and were asleep before dark.
Large stacked gray clouds Sat heavy on the horizon as Imagine got underway the next morning heading further south. After lunch Ed grabs the binoculars when he notices a boat on the far horizon. As Imagine closes the difference it is obvious that someone is waving from the boat. What appears to be a windsock is a T-shirt. The boat is anchored in front of Galliott Cut.
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| Ed handing gas to Barry Ellis near Cave Cay |
As we get closer we notice the local man waving more frantically. Ed slows Imagine and turns towards the distressed boater. I take a line and go to the bow. The stranded man lifts a red fuel jug to indicate he had run out of gas. He pulls his anchor and I throw him a line.
His name is Barry Ellis and he lives on Little Farmers Cay. He was heading to nearby Cave Cay to get gas and then to Musha Cay (home to magician David Copperfield) to pick his wife up from work when he ran out of gas. The unlucky biater had been sitting there for three hours when came into sight. We towed him as close as we could get to Cave Cay. The low tide kept us from getting all the way in. I anchored Imagine as Ed gave Ellis the gas to get going again. It took a while for the Bahamian to mix oil into the gas and to get his motor started again. When he asked what he owed us, Ed replied, "A simple thank you will do." He told us to stop by Little Farmers for some lobster in appreciation for our help.
After the rescue, Imagine stayed where it was, anchored for the night. The next morning Imagine would snuggle into a no service slip at the Sandals Marina at Emerald Bay to re-fuel and wash six large loads of salty and very smelly laundry. It was a good way to end the day. And as I said in the beginning, timing is everything. I know one Bahamian fisherman who would agree.
December 20, 2012
One More Ocean Adventure
The rise and fall of the Ocean swell change can change from a dry gentle rolling motion to something more like a ride on a wet log flume in a matter of minutes. Crossing the Gulf Stream from Ft. Pierce, Fla. to Port Lucaya. Grand Bahama in early December looked as if it was going to be a smooth ride. And it was, for the first 12 hours.
At 6:30 a.m., a slight breeze from the southeast barely rippled the still waters as Imagine glided away from the mooring ball at the Vero Beach City Marina heading towards the inlet at Fort Pierce. Ahead of us the sailing vessels Blackthorn and Edelweiss followed the meandering Intracoastal Waterway to the Atlantic Ocean. Breeze Hunter brought up the rear.
East southeast winds freshened to 12 knots as the four boats travelled on an incoming tide out to the open ocean. Seas were somewhat confused at the mouth of the inlet, but as we adjusted our course, the waves became four to six foot gentle swells with eight to10 seconds between each rise. With light wind on the nose, Imagine pointed to Grand Bahama Island and motor sailed with only the mainsail.
The west wall of the Gulf Stream was located fifteen miles off Fort Pierce. The deep dark blue waters of the stream moved quickly northward. Instead of chugging along at 7.5 knots, Imagine slowed to 5.2 knots as the powerful current fought against the set southeasterly course. The sun was bright. The skies were blue. The seas provided a gentle forward to aft ride. Blackthorn and Edelweiss hoped to get lucky and dragged fishing lines behind their boats.
Around 6:00 p.m. Clouds began to fill in and the winds increased to17 knots. The swells became untamed waves that were spaced much closer together. By the time I came back on watch at 11:00 p.m. The waves were spitting spray. Ed told me to put on my foul weather gear. Of course I ignored him and opted for a light wind breaker. The wind picked up to 22 knots, gusting 25. Imagine was now pounding forward and aft, bouncing as she plowed through the wind driven waves. Ocean spray whipped around the port side of the boat and into the cockpit. "What's so bad about a little spray? At least it is warm," I thought.
It wasn't 10 minutes later that Imagine dipped into a trough between two waves. As she tripped into the hole a wave washed over the bow, dodger and bimini, filling the decks with water that spilled into my lap and onto the sole before draining back to sea through the deck and cockpit drains. Okay, that was a little more wet than I needed. It was now way too late for foul weather gear.
Over the next five hours. I keep an eye on the other boats. Blackthorn fell behind on Imagine's starboard stern. Edelweiss followed and Breeze Hunter sailed off to port. The lights from their masts bounced up and down in the frothing waters. I know that they too are having a rough night. Occasionally, we call each other on the radio to check on how everyone is holding up. There is comfort knowing that there are others traveling the same watery road.
Seven hours later, after playing trampoline with mother nature, Imagine sails into the lee of Grand Bahama Island. The seas settle as the the land blocks much of the wind. I'm more than happy to go below at 4 a.m. It is time for Ed to take over.
He wakes me at 7:00 a.m. We prepare to enter Bell Channel leading to Port Lucaya Marina. Breeze Hunter, with a shallower depth than Imagine, calls out the depths on the VHF radio as we follow them into the shallow channel at dead low tide. The lowest depth is eight feet and all is good as we peer at the sand through the clear turquoise waters. Ed seamlessly allows the current to push the salty boat towards a long fuel dock where Kathy and Darius from Breeze Hunter grab our lines. Blackthorn and Edelweiss are anchoring out while Jim, on Blackthorn, dives on his prop.
It is 7:30 a.m. Twenty-five hours have passed since the journey began. An hour later we are in a slip. The yellow quarantine flag waves above Imagine's deck. We clear customs by 10:00 a.m. and raise the Bahamian courtesy flag. We straighten the boat and toast a bagel. Next we contact our family to let them know we are safe.
Music from Count Basie Square at the Port Lucaya Marketplace is festive and seasonal. I sit in the cockpit enjoying a soft breeze under blue skies surrounded by the colorful Bahamian waters. Palms trees seem to sway in time as Bahamians in the square belt out Christmas Carols with a lilting sing song accent. "Oh night when Christ was born, oh night divine, ya mon!"
In the square palm trees are adorned with colorful Christmas lights. A 25 foot tree sits among toys and packages. Bahamians bombard Ed calling out who their Christmas wishes. Without a drop in the beat he answers, "I'm going to have to think about that. I know what you were doing last Thursday night." Everyone laughs. The ladies want to touch his beard.
What a difference a few hours can make. Was it only a few hours ago that I was saturated with seawater? There's the saying that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Well we found it.
I wish everyone a joyous holiday season and a New Year filled with only the best that it has to offer.
At 6:30 a.m., a slight breeze from the southeast barely rippled the still waters as Imagine glided away from the mooring ball at the Vero Beach City Marina heading towards the inlet at Fort Pierce. Ahead of us the sailing vessels Blackthorn and Edelweiss followed the meandering Intracoastal Waterway to the Atlantic Ocean. Breeze Hunter brought up the rear.
East southeast winds freshened to 12 knots as the four boats travelled on an incoming tide out to the open ocean. Seas were somewhat confused at the mouth of the inlet, but as we adjusted our course, the waves became four to six foot gentle swells with eight to10 seconds between each rise. With light wind on the nose, Imagine pointed to Grand Bahama Island and motor sailed with only the mainsail.
The west wall of the Gulf Stream was located fifteen miles off Fort Pierce. The deep dark blue waters of the stream moved quickly northward. Instead of chugging along at 7.5 knots, Imagine slowed to 5.2 knots as the powerful current fought against the set southeasterly course. The sun was bright. The skies were blue. The seas provided a gentle forward to aft ride. Blackthorn and Edelweiss hoped to get lucky and dragged fishing lines behind their boats.
Around 6:00 p.m. Clouds began to fill in and the winds increased to17 knots. The swells became untamed waves that were spaced much closer together. By the time I came back on watch at 11:00 p.m. The waves were spitting spray. Ed told me to put on my foul weather gear. Of course I ignored him and opted for a light wind breaker. The wind picked up to 22 knots, gusting 25. Imagine was now pounding forward and aft, bouncing as she plowed through the wind driven waves. Ocean spray whipped around the port side of the boat and into the cockpit. "What's so bad about a little spray? At least it is warm," I thought.
It wasn't 10 minutes later that Imagine dipped into a trough between two waves. As she tripped into the hole a wave washed over the bow, dodger and bimini, filling the decks with water that spilled into my lap and onto the sole before draining back to sea through the deck and cockpit drains. Okay, that was a little more wet than I needed. It was now way too late for foul weather gear.
Over the next five hours. I keep an eye on the other boats. Blackthorn fell behind on Imagine's starboard stern. Edelweiss followed and Breeze Hunter sailed off to port. The lights from their masts bounced up and down in the frothing waters. I know that they too are having a rough night. Occasionally, we call each other on the radio to check on how everyone is holding up. There is comfort knowing that there are others traveling the same watery road.
Seven hours later, after playing trampoline with mother nature, Imagine sails into the lee of Grand Bahama Island. The seas settle as the the land blocks much of the wind. I'm more than happy to go below at 4 a.m. It is time for Ed to take over.
He wakes me at 7:00 a.m. We prepare to enter Bell Channel leading to Port Lucaya Marina. Breeze Hunter, with a shallower depth than Imagine, calls out the depths on the VHF radio as we follow them into the shallow channel at dead low tide. The lowest depth is eight feet and all is good as we peer at the sand through the clear turquoise waters. Ed seamlessly allows the current to push the salty boat towards a long fuel dock where Kathy and Darius from Breeze Hunter grab our lines. Blackthorn and Edelweiss are anchoring out while Jim, on Blackthorn, dives on his prop.
It is 7:30 a.m. Twenty-five hours have passed since the journey began. An hour later we are in a slip. The yellow quarantine flag waves above Imagine's deck. We clear customs by 10:00 a.m. and raise the Bahamian courtesy flag. We straighten the boat and toast a bagel. Next we contact our family to let them know we are safe.
Music from Count Basie Square at the Port Lucaya Marketplace is festive and seasonal. I sit in the cockpit enjoying a soft breeze under blue skies surrounded by the colorful Bahamian waters. Palms trees seem to sway in time as Bahamians in the square belt out Christmas Carols with a lilting sing song accent. "Oh night when Christ was born, oh night divine, ya mon!"
In the square palm trees are adorned with colorful Christmas lights. A 25 foot tree sits among toys and packages. Bahamians bombard Ed calling out who their Christmas wishes. Without a drop in the beat he answers, "I'm going to have to think about that. I know what you were doing last Thursday night." Everyone laughs. The ladies want to touch his beard.
What a difference a few hours can make. Was it only a few hours ago that I was saturated with seawater? There's the saying that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Well we found it.
I wish everyone a joyous holiday season and a New Year filled with only the best that it has to offer.
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