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I sit out on the upper deck of the Bimini Seafood Company & Conch Bar. The sun has risen, and I am working my way through a Bahamian braised conch omelet, a heavenly slice of toasted Bimini sweet bread, and a Green Mountain coffee. Though it is early morning, from my lofty vantage I witness the marina springing to life. Fishing charters idle out of the sheltered harbour in orderly queues heading for the fishing grounds. At the quayside, scuba divers check their gear and pass tanks and wetsuits onto dive boats. They have travelled from around the world to join Shark Safaris, and the unique chance to dive with hammerheads and tiger sharks.

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I had arrived on the island of Bimini the morning before, and couldn’t shake the magical feeling that I had travelled back in time, with the island’s little airport terminal acting as some sort of time portal. I had left bustling Nassau only 50 minutes earlier, on a twin prop 50-seater that skimmed above the Bahamian archipelago and its inviting blue-green waters, to land on tiny South Bimini. I disembarked and strolled across the hot tarmac to a depot that was about the size of a two-car garage, grabbed my bag from a cart wheeled onto the dusty parking lot, and then jumped into an equally dusty shuttle van for the short transfer to the wharf.

I waited at a ferry station shelter amongst smartly uniformed schoolchildren for the marine transport to North Bimini. When our pontoon boat arrived, we clamoured aboard – the students were joined by tourists dragging wheeled luggage, and workers in coveralls and hard hats, laughing and bumping fists with the boat operators. We settled onto bench seats for the short shuttle across the strait.

Upon arrival, I was shown to a golf cart. “You can’t get lost,” I was told. “Drive (on the left side) along the Queen’s Highway to Alice Town, go past the dolphin museum, and your accommodation is on the right.” The coastal road is beautiful, skirting past silky white sand beaches that sloped down to beautiful turquoise waters and whitewashed roadside bars and restaurants with names like Big John’s, Stuart’s Conch Stand and Sherry’s Café. Every vehicle, bicyclist and pedestrian I pass waves a greeting, as if they had been expecting me and were glad I had come. This is my kind of place.

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The Big Game Club is a collection of brightly coloured cabanas that hug a tidy marina, where mega-yachts are docked beside small fishing skiffs, deep-sea charters and dive boats. It smells of salt and the sea. Palm trees sway beside a wooden promenade that follows the harbour. The rhythm of calypso music leaks from a poolside pub. This is a destination for big game fishing and reef diving. Ernest Hemingway often stayed here on his favourite Caribbean Island, a place where he wrote the novel Islands in the Stream. A pioneer of sports fishing, Hemingway loved fishing the waters offshore. Many anglers have followed in his wake, battling to beat the more than 50 world fishing records set here. As one might expect from a region dubbed by some as “The Sportfishing Capital of the World”, fishing is the lifeblood of Bimini. Its location in the Gulf Stream has made it a water highway for marlin, barracuda, tuna, swordfish and bluefin, all of which challenge the most experienced angler.

Today, the water is calling me. I take my golf cart to Bimini Blue, where I am joined by a small group on a catamaran cruise to secluded Gun Cay. The catamaran runs up on a stretch of powdery sand. I wade into the peaceful, shallow waters, only to be accosted by a fever of stingrays, their soft, spongy wings brushing against my legs. I hold out small calamari clutched in my fist and they roll over my hand to vacuum the food away. “Relax my friend,” says the boat skipper, from his safe position aboard. “The worst thing they can do is give you a hickie!” (Relax? What will my wife say when I get home?)

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On the return trip, anchored out on the reef, we are offered the opportunity to snorkel with a dozen reef sharks, some as big as eight feet. Only a couple of the more brazen, or perhaps dim-witted, guests take part in this adventure, and, of course, I am one of them. If I am going to return home with kiss marks from rays on my chest, I am sure my wife would not discourage me from leaping into a shiver of sharks.

I jump from the boat expecting a brief feeding frenzy, leaving nothing behind save rubber fins and mask strap. The sharks are wary and passive, as am I, but I snorkel around in a state of wonder. I’m able to dive down and swim alongside them. Rather than playing the role of Robert Shaw in Jaws, I feel like Jacques Cousteau, curious and fascinated in this ocean world. Sharks are treated like undersea royalty here. The Bahamas was one of the first to demarcate boundaries for a Shark Sanctuary, with a huge 630,000-square-km protected marine area for these majestic creatures.

Back at the Big Game Club, I feast on conch fritters, conch salad and fried grouper, fresh from the boats, washing it all down with Hemingway’s favourite bourbon and ginger beer. Conch (pronounced “conk”) is a culturally significant protein that has carved its place as a standout of Bahamian gastronomy. Sometimes enjoyed raw, in soup or a salad, this scrumptious mollusk is incredibly versatile.

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As the sun sets in the west, the charters return. Divers show off their shark photos, while anglers clean their catch. Bull sharks gather in the harbour for scraps tossed into the sea. I watched the action and the colourful sunset from my restaurant perch, thinking Ernest Hemingway was a sybarite who relly knew how to kick back and savour life. His beloved Bimini really hasn’t changed very much.

If You Go:

With over 700 islands and cays and 16 unique island destinations, The Bahamas lies just 80 km off the coast of Florida, offering an easy escape. Bimini, known as the “Gateway to The Bahamas,” offers a mix of adventure and rest, with world-class fishing, diving, and beautiful beaches. www.bahamas.com

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