10th December 20124

Early this morning, we docked at Grand Turk, a small island in the Turks and Caicos Islands, a British Overseas Territory whose capital is Cockburn Town. The view from our breakfast room window promised a glorious day ahead: white-sand beaches framed by a lush green interior, all bathed in bright sunshine. Although two cruise ships were scheduled to be in port today, a venture onto the upper decks revealed a warm but brisk breeze, which we later learned had prevented the second ship from docking.

Several months ago, we had bypassed all of the cruise line’s tour and activity options and instead arranged to hire a golf cart from a local island company. While the ship’s official excursion offered just a two-hour guided ride, we chose the freedom of renting a cart for the entire day, giving us full control over where we went and how long we stayed at each stop.

Emerging from the interior of the Nieuw Statendam, we stepped onto the wharf, which, after just a few paces, led directly into the island’s Duty-Free outlet. Ignoring the lines of passengers dutifully assembling for their excursions, we passed through the plaza beyond and made our way to the port entrance, where we were soon greeted by a representative of the hire company. After confirming our names, without needing to show any documentation, we were promptly seated in a golf cart and tentatively set off along the island’s one main road.

The vehicle had seen better days; its steering and brakes required careful thought before making any sudden manoeuvres. Still, it was just about serviceable. At this early hour, there was little traffic, only a few locals in cars and the occasional fellow golf cart user. The convoys of cruise ship-organised tours had yet to depart the port.

Our first stop was to take selfies in front of the island’s vibrant name sign, located beside the road about a kilometre from the port. By sheer luck rather than design, we then stumbled across the island’s only museum, situated along the beachfront on the outskirts of Cockburn Town, the capital. We were the museum’s first visitors of the day, and after paying the $5 entrance fee each, we spent an enjoyable forty minutes exploring its collection of historical exhibits.

Highlights included learning that the island was first colonised in 1681 by Bermudians, who established a thriving salt industry; its potential claim as the landfall site of Christopher Columbus during his 1492 voyage to the New World; and an exhibit dedicated to astronaut John Glenn, who in 1962 became the first American to orbit the Earth, completing three circuits.

As we left the museum, hordes of fellow cruisers began to arrive in buses, trams, and caravans of carts and quads, forming long queues outside before slowly shuffling through the exhibits. We strolled along the beach road, lined with small stalls selling tourist trinkets, pausing occasionally to browse anything that caught our eye. As the stalls gradually gave way to charming wooden homes, we continued our amble until it was time to return to our vehicle. By then, some of the organised tours had begun to depart.

We followed the coast road northwards until it veered inland, eventually finding the route that led to the lighthouse at the very top of Grand Turk. We had seen a few donkeys in town, but the road to the lighthouse was positively dotted with these sweet-faced creatures. We had been warned to take care when driving, but most of the donkeys seemed content simply to stand and gaze at each other, while others, true to Caribbean form, ambled along at a glacial pace. At one point, we encountered a local walking purposefully along the roadside. In exchange for confirming that we were heading in the right direction, we offered him a lift home.

After dropping off our impromptu passenger, we soon arrived at the small car park beside the lighthouse to be greeted by a small herd of donkeys. These savvy creatures were clearly well-versed in tourist behaviour and would break into a trot if they suspected a titbit was on offer, greedily scoffing anything that came their way.

The area around the lighthouse is picturesque, naturally perched atop a cliff with sweeping views over much of the northern part of the island. The 18-metre structure, overlooking North Creek, was completed in 1852 by British architect Alexander Gordon to warn sailors of the shallow reef offshore. There are a few facilities on site, a couple of bars, a shop, a food shack, and the all-important toilets. Like us, most visitors didn’t seem to linger for more than half an hour, as it isn’t possible to climb the lighthouse for a truly panoramic view of the surroundings.

We returned to the outskirts of Cockburn Town and took a road leading towards the northern end of the island, this time following the opposite side of a large, shallow seawater inlet. Apart from a couple of rusting shipwrecks, likely stranded during a past storm, and a few intriguing but unidentified birds, there was little to capture our attention. The road eventually petered out near a row of unfinished buildings and stretches of scrubland. With no choice but to retrace our route, we headed back the same way, skirting the town’s edge and observing the local houses and the occasional resident going about their day. Traffic remained virtually nonexistent until we rejoined the main road.

Soon after, we spotted a large church across a causeway spanning a small, brackish lake and decided to take a look. From inside, we could hear music; a rock band was rehearsing, and they sounded surprisingly good. Not wanting to disturb their practice, we wandered through the adjacent cemetery instead, pausing to read the epitaphs and reflect on the graves, many adorned with photos of the deceased.

Not long after leaving the church, I felt something odd through the steering wheel, and a passing motorist soon confirmed our suspicion: we had a flat tyre. Pulling over to check, we discovered one of the rear tyres was indeed punctured. Remarkably, the man who had rented us the cart appeared moments later in his car, as if by magic. He guided us to a nearby tyre shop and instructed a mechanic to pump it up. But it quickly became apparent that the tyre was beyond saving. As we were already heading back to the ship, we left the cart for repairs, and our good Samaritan kindly gave us a lift to the port. He explained he’d noticed us looking stranded on his way home. What luck!

Once back on board, we had lunch on Deck 9. Later, Sue went off to enjoy a film in the theatre, while I settled into a lounge to sort through the photos on my camera and began writing this blog.

After dinner, we rounded off the day with a performance in the theatre by Kuba, a multi-instrumentalist and vibraphone virtuoso. I found the act mildly entertaining, though Sue was less enthused; she dozed off partway through.