The golf cart driver had to swerve to miss an empty conch shell in the middle of the “road” — really little more than a sand and limestone path through the woods on Deep Water Cay. No one bothered picking it up or moving it out of the way. It simply belonged there.
One hour away in the Freeport-Lucaya resort area of Grand Bahama Island, drivers were swerving to avoid tourists who forgot to drive on the left side of the rode.
I had arrived at the East End of Grand Bahama by miraculously avoiding the latter scene entirely, driving the hour’s distance on back roads to the part of the 96-mile island rarely explored but by bonefish anglers and other adventurers.
Along the drive, old-island fishing settlements replace casinos and beach resorts. They pop up sporadically along a pine tree-lined road where it’s rare to encounter another vehicle even during high season. Short drives off the main road lead to unspoiled white-sand beaches where it’s just as rare to find other people.