Green Turtle Cay’s Albert Lowe Museum has put out a call for historic photographs and artifacts to be featured in their upcoming exhibit, Men of the Sea.
The museum is looking for images of Abaconians (at that time, they were usually men) who made their livings at sea by wrecking, fishing, sponging, crawfishing, sharking, shipping and mail delivery, serving as sea captains or crew members on a vessel, etc. Also of interest are related items such as compasses, sextants, documents, etc.
My own family’s men of the sea included my grandfather, Lionel Albury, who worked for a time as a crew member on the vessel Anne Bonny, shipping bananas from Haiti to Cuba.
His brother, Ancil (“Spotty”) Albury, captained the Stede Bonnet, which transported mail and supplies between Nassau and Abaco.
And my great-grandfather, Herman Curry (who built Fish Hooks), supported his family by fishing and selling his catch to mailboat crews and the logging camp at Norman’s Castle on the Abaco mainland.
My grandmother spoke often of Pa Herman’s experiences on the sea.
“Daddy had a smaller boat at first, then he got a bigger one with a well in it. One day he came in with his boat loaded down with amberjacks. Another day he came with the biggest loggerhead you ever saw tied up beside his boat.
Back then, fish was a ha’penny a pound, about three cents. Amberjacks were four cents. When the mailboat Priscilla was coming, Daddy would get up and clean a dollar’s worth of fish, and that was as much as he could carry in both hands.
He would go fishing seven miles from home. He would drop Mama at Munjack Cay to work at the farm and he would go out to the reef. It was dangerous. If anything happened to him in that little dinghy, Mama would never know.
He sunk a boat once. After that, Virgie (her sister, Virginia) would get to the upstairs window and cry when he left. She could see his boat when he went up around the Bluff. He’d have just a little piece of sail up. He took chances. He had to.”
I know a lot of folks who read this blog have Abaconian ancestors who were sea captains, fishermen, spongers, crawfishermen or mariners of one sort or another. And I suspect that your family attics or albums contain historic photographs or other items that would be ideal for this exhibit.
If you have images or artifacts you’d like to donate or loan to the Men of the Sea exhibit, drop me a note or call the Albert Lowe Museum at (242) 365-4094.
Wally Davies, who has owned the New Plymouth Inn since the 1970s, has seen thousands of visitors come and go over the years. One guest, however, has apparently taken up permanent residence.
The building that houses the New Plymouth Inn was constructed nearly 200 years ago as a home for sea captain (and rumoured pirate) William Gustavus (Captain Billy) Roberts. Captain Billy operated a store at street level, and his family resided on the house’s upper floors.
Local lore says that Captain Billy stashed a large quantity of gold and other valuables somewhere on the property.
After a month of holiday celebrations, including the Festival of Lights, Junkanoo and the appearance of Bunce, Green Turtle Cay said goodbye to 2014 and welcomed 2105 with a fireworks show, presented by the GTC Volunteer Fire and Rescue Department.
It was a beautiful display — and the perfect opportunity to try out the fireworks setting on my new camera.
It’s a unique Green Turtle Cay custom that dates back more than a hundred years.
At the head of the island’s vibrant New Year’s Junkanoo parade would be a canvas-draped wheelbarrow. Hidden beneath the tarp was “Bunce”, ostensibly a wild man caught in the pine forests of the Abaco mainland.
Those pushing the wheelbarrow would stop in front of a house and pass around a hat, taking up a collection for Bunce to get out and dance. They told tall tales about the capture of this violent beast and threatened that, should enough money not be contributed, they would set him loose within the settlement.
When enough money had been collected, the wildly costumed Bunce would jump from the wheelbarrow, lunging fiercely toward local children and amusing the crowd with his antics. Eventually, he was loaded back into the wheelbarrow, covered up and carted to another house, where the performance would be repeated.
At this year’s Junkanoo, Bunce’s appearance was somewhat streamlined. There was no wheelbarrow and no hat passed. But the effect was the same. As Bunce sprung from his hiding place, the little ones ran shrieking as the adults laughed and cheered.
Thanks to the Albert Lowe Museum for their assistance with this piece.