Dear Steele: I had an amazing homecoming this go around. The pilot took a circuitous route to get to the airport when he flew into Nassau. I’m not sure if it was the typical route, because I am usually sleeping until moments before landing or not so concerned with the treasures unfolding below, but I am pretty sure I hadn’t traveled that route before.
We flew in from the North West side of New Providence island, overlooking Nassau city. I was able to catch my bearings just as the light house on the west end of Paradise Island began to appear through the pane of my row 12A window. I have a vague recollection of a lighthouse on Paradise Island, but I had never seen it before with such clarity, with the perspective of the entire island stretching beyond it. The light house sat at the tip of the island, towering over a garden of dead coral that surrounded it.
As we continued up the harbour passage between PI and Nassau, I could glimpse part of the two bridges connecting the islands, but my focus was on the two white sand beaches snaking down from the light house on the ocean side. They stretched for what seemed to be at least 200 meters each, separated by more dead coral of an ancient past, appearing like a small rock face that could be conquered. These beaches were unchartered territory for me and their pristine character sparked a curiosity inside that made me want to explore.
From what I could see they curved all the way down to the adjoining ‘Paradise Paradise’ beach of my favourite childhood memories that had been corrupted by Kerzner for the benefit of foreign celebrities. It made me think about several weeks back when Erica and I were idling out on ‘celebrity beach’, peering along the contours of the island, stretching our eyes beyond our common knowledge. We made a pledge to adventure down the beach the next time we came to Atlantis.
My mind ran on Fred, thinking he was someone that would appreciate the possibility of an adventure to seek out the lighthouse. As quick as a [s]quint the thought passed and I returned my focus to the circuitous route that would culminate in my arrival home. We continued eastward, now flying more inland. As I was trying to reestablish my bearings by way of another landmark, my eyes settled on a structure I was certain to be the prison, and then on the playing field from my old high school. When I fixed my focus on St. Andrews I got really excited, thinking I would be so familiar with the eastern terrain I trekked back and forth for my entire lower, middle and upper school career that I would surely be able to locate my house.
As the plane turned even more southward and then westward, maneuvering just short of 180 degrees, I saw the key landmark I thought was guaranteed to enable me to locate 37 Palmetto Drive. The mouth of the canal was distinct: it’s denim blue channel contrasted with the shallow turquoise coastal waters that surrounded it. As I followed it inland I realized the plane was so positioned that only those sitting on the C and D side could see my house had they been so inclined. I could only fantasize about jumping across the aisle and unseating the adjacent window passenger to get a glimpse of my brown singled roof nestled in the corner of a bend on my crescent road.
That thought passed and as quick as a ‘quint we were now flying over the pine trees that populated the country’s water well fields, which was a sign we were about to make our final circle and descend onto the approaching runway. I had never seen the well fields with such clarity: their expansive estate with parallel water channels and moist marshes also sparked my curiosity. I imagined venturing into the fields on an hovercraft brought down from the Florida Everglades, wondering which animals, if any, roamed the waters.
I felt slightly disappointed now that the runway was visible and my panoramic bird’s eye view was gone. All I could see now was the flat horizon: a canvas of tarmac roads, service vehicles, parked planes, concrete buildings and bush. My feet were now on the ground of my city, my island paradise, my other home sweet home. I blew you a kiss in my mind and thought: Welcome back. What a ride!