4 hours ago
1
TW: sexual assault
I am a 26 year old woman (25 at the time of the trip). Names have been changed for privacy.
I felt like I was in a whole new world the second I stepped off the plane in Freeport. The airport was tiny and weathered and customs was the size of a small house. The taxis were old vans driven by old men who looked as weathered as the airport. The majority of the island looked nothing like the pictures you see of the Bahamas, it almost felt like a third world county. I caught a taxi to my Airbnb, which was a cute little pool cottage on a small compound of sorts, owned by a lovely couple from the US who had been living in the Bahamas for 8 years. It was quiet and secluded and I felt safe. The host was kind enough to drive me to the grocery store when I first arrived and afterwards I made the short walk down to the beach, which was totally empty except for me. The ocean was warm and the water was the clearest blue I’ve ever seen. I spent the rest of the afternoon lounging and swimming before going back to the cottage for the rest of the evening.
The next day I got up early and walked a few miles up the beach to the bars and restaurants. I found a shabby little outdoor restaurant with milk crates for seats and took one at the bar. The bartender got me a drink and my first ever conch salad, which was divine. The owner, Robert, came out from the back to give me his secret recipe hot sauce and we got to chatting. He was friendly, but in a sarcastic and mischievous sort of way. Just my type of person. He was about 70 and a native to the island. We ended up talking for hours while he kept the tropical drinks coming and I felt like I’d known him forever by that afternoon. I’d felt a little out of my element since I’d arrived on the island but he made me feel so welcome. I decided that his restaurant would be a daily stop for the rest of the trip.
The third day I wanted to go see the subterranean caves in Lucaya National Park. I hadn’t rented a car because I was only there for a week and wasn’t comfortable driving on the opposite side of the road and the taxis would’ve cost an arm and a leg, so I paid my hosts’ handyman, Aaron, to drive me. He was friendly and had grown up on the island so he seemed like he would make a good tour guide. He drove us to lunch first, and I paid for his. Then he asked if he could drop his leftovers off for his wife and son, so we stopped off at his house and I met his family and held his baby. They lived in a dilapidated apartment building that looked like it had seen one too many hurricanes.
Next we headed to the park. It was a 45 minute drive down a long, straight highway. We passed a number of houses with the roofs ripped off from hurricane Dorian and he told me all about how horrific that storm had been for them. When we were about 10 minutes from the park he pulled out his phone. He said he wanted to make this a memorable trip for me and that anything we did could be our little secret. My stomach dropped. He handed me his phone and told me to watch the video. It was pornography. I told him I was very uncomfortable and didn’t want to watch it, and that I just wanted to go see the caves and go back to my cottage. He apologized and put the phone away and the rest of the ride was uneventful.
The caves were beautiful but the trip to the park was ruined because he followed me around the whole trail, talking about his life while chain smoking cigarettes and dropping the butts on the ground. In hindsight, I really should’ve asked someone for help. There weren’t many people there though and I didn’t know who I could trust. I decided to take my chances and ride back with him. The longer I was around him he didn’t seem to be threatening, just increasingly weird and maladjusted.
We left the park and got back on the highway. I thought I was in the clear until he turned off onto a side road. I told him I needed to go home and to please get back on the highway, but he said he would only take a minute. He wanted to show me the house he grew up in. I persisted but he ignored me. There was an old man walking down the side of the road and he pulled the car over and told him to get in. Apparently it was his uncle. He rode with us to the house we were headed to and got out, and the handyman told me that was where he’d grown up. I feigned interest as best I could, but then said I really needed to be going. He turned back towards the highway and we were on our way again.
Another 5 minutes down the road, he turned off onto a small sandy path into the trees. I started to panic but did my best to appear calm. He said he wanted me and that this would only take a minute. I thought about jumping out and running but we hadn’t seen another car on the highway the whole drive and all of the houses nearby were abandoned. He also had a machete in his door for coconuts and I didn’t want to risk making him angry. I told him I didn’t want to have sex with him and demanded he take me home. He said I didn’t have to have sex with him but he was going to get off one way or another. He pulled out his phone and started watching porn again. Then he started to grope me while he masturbated. The image of the sun visor in that car is seared into my mind. I just sat there and stared a hole through it while fighting back tears. I’ve never felt so helpless. He finished all over me and the inside of the car, zipped up his pants, and got back on the highway like nothing ever happened. Then he invited me to dinner at his house with him and his wife. I said yes just so he would leave me alone.
He dropped me off at the cottage and said he’d be back later to pick me up for dinner. I think I was in shock and I sat in the living room just shaking for a while, thankful to be alive but also feeling totally alone and helpless. I was stranded on an island without a single person I knew and had 5 more days of the trip left. All I wanted was to go home and be with my friends and family. Then I had an idea. I ran down to the beach and all the way to Robert’s restaurant. I asked for Robert and gave him a very brief and sanitized version of what had just happened. He knew exactly who I was talking about and was appalled. He said he would do whatever he could to help me. A few minutes later, he tapped me on the shoulder and pointed behind me. It was Aaron, walking up to the restaurant. Robert told me to wait at the bar while he went and handled it. He came back 5 minutes later and told me he had fired him and banned him from the restaurant. Turns out this guy was also his handyman.
Robert told me I could stay at the bar until he closed so he could drive me home. I helped him close up shop and he asked if I wanted some good food and a real tour of the island, sans kidnapping. We drove along the ocean for about a half hour and he gave me all the interesting details about the island. We passed a cemetery with all of the headstones sitting outside of it, leaning against a wall. I asked why they were there and he told me that when hurricane Dorian came, it brought a lot of the bodies up out of the sand. The government didn’t have the money to find out who was who and give them their correct headstones back, so they just reburied them and left the headstones outside.
He took me to a little chicken shack and got me some chicken in a bag. We drove to a sea wall and he pulled out a joint. We smoked and ate and I fed some of my chicken to a skinny stray dog that came up to the car. Then we went and sat on the sea wall to watch the sunset and I told him the whole story of what really happened. He was enraged and asked why I hadn’t told him earlier, saying he would’ve knocked the guy out if he’d known. Then he apologized on behalf of the black man. That was when I finally cried. I told him that this could’ve happened to me anywhere, by a man of any color. I didn’t blame the black man, the Bahamians, or anyone else but the sick man that did this to me.
On the way back to the cottage, Robert said there was someone he wanted me to meet. Her name was Kristen and she lived on the island part time. She was going through a divorce and had a lot of free time and she could hang out with me for the rest of the trip so I wouldn’t have to go anywhere alone. He invited her over to the cottage that night and we sat around the pool and smoked and laughed and Robert cracked us open a fresh coconut. Kristen was a kind and cheerful free spirit. She seemed very young for 50. She told me she’d meet me the next day and walk with me to Robert’s for lunch. By the time I got in bed that night I didn’t want run away anymore. I was determined to see the trip through and go home stronger than I was when I’d gotten on that plane.
Kristen ran into Aaron on the beach the day after the incident and kicked him for what he did. She broke her toe and had a limp the rest of the time I was there. I’ve never been so honored. I told my hosts what had happened as well, and they apologized profusely and fired Aaron immediately. I never considered taking legal action against him, it didn’t seem worth the hassle in a foreign country and I didn’t know if the authorities would care anyway. It felt like justice enough that he lost both of his jobs and was now known as a predator on an island so dependent on tourism.
The rest of the trip was incredible. I hung out with Kristen at restaurants all over the island and consumed copious amounts of seafood and Bahama Mamas. We swam in the ocean every day and hung out with Robert around the pool at my cottage in the evenings. I went dancing with Robert in an old dive bar, met an old lawyer friend of his and partied in his oceanfront penthouse with Robert and Kristen, and saw my first hermit crab. I was introduced to new music and philosophies and some of the kindest people I’ve ever met.
I’d never traveled solo outside of the US before and I’ve always been somewhat shy and reserved. I was supposed to go with my boyfriend at the time but we ended up breaking up before the trip so I decided to step out of my comfort zone and go alone. I had originally planned to spend my time relaxing on the beach, checking out some restaurants, and hanging out at the pool, all by myself. In hindsight, I’m so thankful that things didn’t go as planned. I’m not deterred from solo travel and I would love to go back to Freeport one day to see Robert and Kristen.
Sure, there are things I could’ve done differently that might have resulted in a different outcome, and the few people I’ve told this story to have kindly pointed that out. While I may have been naive, I did the best I could in a difficult situation and walked away with my life, and I’m proud of myself for that. I’ve learned from my mistakes and I’m more cautious now, but I can honestly say I’m at peace with everything that happened. I forgive the man who violated me and I hope his wife and son are safe and cared for. I wouldn’t trade the new friends I made or the rest of the memories of that trip for anything. I’m more confident now, in every aspect of my life, and I enjoy meeting new people more than ever. I learned that there is still enough good in this world to make up for the bad. I learned that the most unlikely friendships can teach you the most and that some of the poorest people are truly the happiest. I learned that I’m stronger than I thought I was and I learned how to be proud of myself. I’ll never forget that trip or the people who made it one of the most valuable experiences of my life.
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