We eat out quite a bit on this trip. Which explains our inability to get our dinghy up on plane. Normally I don’t write about individual restaurants that we visit. They are all pretty good. Some are unique. But while sitting in the Berry Islands waiting to cross to Nassau, we got to eat at what can best be described as a dive restaurant, only reachable by boat on an island a long way away from anything.
Little Harbour Cay is an island about 2 miles long (North to South) and a quarter mile wide (at its widest point). I think there is one person who lives full time on the island and his name is Chester. He is the husband of Flo who ran Flo’s Conch Bar. She passed away a couple of years ago, but Chester is still there. And if you call on the radio, he will make you lunch or dinner.
Which we did. Jan called on channel 68 and Chester answered on the second try. We told him we had three for lunch if he could take us and he said 1230-1pm. No problem.
Shortly after we made the call, M/V Solstice with Don and Leslie, Canadians on a PDQ 34 motor catamaran, pulled into our little slice of heaven and came on over on their dinghy. They also wanted to go to Flo’s so Jan called back and upped the reservation to 5 for 1pm. No problem.
So at 1245, two dinghies with five people left our anchorage and headed south to the only inhabited building on this island**1. And the only restaurant within 10 miles. The tide was still high(ish) but going down and we ran our prop into the ground a couple of times, but made it to the dock.
When we stepped off the boat, it was immediately obvious that a lot of conch had given up their life at this place. There were 10 foot piles of the pink/white shells that lined the path from the dock up to the restaurant. After we crested the hill we are greeted by a couple of dogs looking for handouts, and we could see outhouses to our right, chickens and roosters to our front, and a small pink building to our left. The pink building must be the place.
Now if you are sitting at home reading and have a mental picture of a ‘restaurant’ in your head, I should set your expectations. Restaurant is perhaps a strong word. Shack, perhaps, better describes the place. We walk in the door onto a screened in piece of concrete with picnic tables throughout the room. A small bar is on the front side and the kitchen is on the back side. We are welcomed and we sit, order our beverages and then wait. Beverages are the ONLY thing you get to order or that you have a choice of. For food, you whatever is in the kitchen for the day. And what you get is family style. Which is good with us! While we wait for the food to arrive we look out the screen into a great view of the bay below us.
Lunch starts off with conch fritters and they are fantastic. Hot, fluffy with bits of conch that were pounded into soft submission. We got a basket and proceeded to eat every one. Then came cole slaw and fries. And finally a huge plate of fried fish fingers. Snapper. Delicious.
Fritters. To die for.
Cole slaw is cole slaw.
Fish Fingers, like the fritters, were to die for.
The whole thing was made by Chester who made an appearance as we finished up the fish. We talked a bit and then trundled down the path back to the dinghies and the long ride back to the boat. It wasn’t terribly cheap, but it was worth every penny for the experience.
**1 At our anchorage there was a very sturdy dock with concrete pilings and good wood still sticking out into the little bay. We pulled up and followed the trail to the other side of the island (a short walk) and found an abandoned house or restaurant. Someone put a lot of money, time and resources into the place, but it is now abandoned.