21 May 2026

Our GEM was not due back at the rental until 9am, so we used the early morning hours to our best advantage.

Wherever we travel, we take time to watch a sunrise. And in Bermuda our favorite place to do this is St. Catherine’s Beach. Waking up a bit later than we had planned, we got in the GEM just as the sky was getting pale. Sitting on the cold sand, listening to the soft swishing of the water, watching the sparkle of a school of shiny fish, seeing the brilliant bright orb emerge from sea and clouds: it always moves me to tears. And at every sunrise I sing from my favorite hymn. “When I fall on my knees, with my face to the rising sun, Oh Lord, have mer-cy on me”

There were just three other people on the beach. A St. Regis employee raking sand around the hotel lounge chairs, a lone swimmer and a fisherman.

The fisherman, with just a net and bucket, waded into the water and easily caught those pretty little silver fish. He would use them for bait later in the day. I felt bad for them. I mean they were beautiful. Like shiny little slivers of jumping aluminum. In a fruitless effort to save even just one of these little fishies, I grabbed sandy handfuls of fish that had fallen out of the bucket. But then had to admit, that I like my fish & chips and grilled Atlantic salmon too. This is all part of the process.

The swimmer’s name was Daniel and he lived in the neighborhood. He swims here often (even before Bermuda Day!). He showed Mike the driftwood log he sits on, placed under a palm tree in the low brush near the fort. He loves that log so much that when I storm took it down across the beach, he retrieved it. It was his log.

A cruise ship was approaching, staying in the narrow channel that leads through the dangerous reef, past St Georges and to the dockyard. Daniel told us to watch the water, as when it passes the fort, the water will retreat and return in a flood. The ship is so big it displaces a huge amount of the sea.

Unless you see it, you cannot believe just how close the cruise ships get to the beach. They are so big they appear to squeeze just past the fort, towering over it. In reality, the ships are about one hundred meters out to sea. It is a really cool illusion. Once the ship passed by, all the rocks around the fort were indeed exposed. Then very quickly, like a mini tsunami, the water is back.

I walked up and down the beach, watching the water, now much cleaner than it had been the other day.

Before we all left, Daniel pointed us to Fort Albert, which is undergoing restoration. It was up a little road on the other side of The St. Regis. We’d never know it was there, so decided to check it out.

The little GEM handled the steep drive surprising well. It was really cool! A newly built bridge lead over a very deep, barren moat. Flowers had been planted in gardens. Two big rooms were tiled (very unusual). This fort had to be in use much more recently than the others we’d been to. Power-washing equipment was laying there alongside half-removed graffiti. We wished we could have lingered, but it was nearing 9:00 and the GEM had to be returned.

But what a wonderful start to our day.

Back to Hard a Lee for breakfast on the dock and more reading. Ruby the dog greeted us then went for a swim. The family was gathering for yoga. On her way to join in, Lucy pointed out to me a little mediation garden. We went in. Listened to the water. Smelled the flowers. Met a frog god.

I imagined it was a god because the amphibian was the size of my fist! It looked up at a little waterfall in the shrine. Mike thought it was a statue but I saw it breathing. Or did I? On second look it was still as stone. And then it was gone.

Turns out my frog god was actually an evil, invasive, poisonous toad that is known to kill dogs. So much for my fantasies!

Now, you may recall that on the ferry to Hamilton we met some sailors who were heading in a group to The Azores. Well I got a tip that they would be sailing out of the harbor at noon. So Mike and I caught a bus heading east to the last stop for the walk to Fort Gates. When we mentioned why yes, we did indeed want to get off at this stop, the locals were intrigued. Even the bus driver said he was going to stop and watch the boats.

Our friend for the walk was a woman named Penelope, who lived in the neighborhood. She’d just finished leading a tour of historic St Georges. She spoke about her family and how three generations lived on the same block. Her granddaughter would be dancing in the Bermuda Day Parade tomorrow. She would be walking along, providing water and looking after the dance troup. They were #63 out of 75 marchers. That’s a long day! If we stayed toward the end, we hoped to see her. Once Penelope had gone home and changed, she would come and watch the boats too.

Into the fort we immediately noted a change. When we been here in previous years, the gate house had a table and chairs in it. Packs of cards were on the table. It was an informal local game room. But this time the window showed no furniture and the door was locked. The fort was being restored.

Into the gate we found two men under a tent scraping rust off of two huge cannons. They were restoring these, as well as others throughout the country. They were pleased to hear we’d seen the cannons in St Catherine’s that he’d recently worked on. They explained to us that the cannons, that once protected the St George’s Harbor, did not need to shoot very far: just enough to discourage ships from going around the reefs. Once cleaned, these cannons would be painted gray (most are black).

As this is the third fort I have mentioned in this post, I believe a word of explanation is in order. There are over 90 forts in Bermuda: some crumbling to ruin, some active, and everything in between. For a country of just 22 square miles, that is quite a lot! Bermuda has never been directly involved in a war, but it remains of strategic importance for Great Britain as well as the United States. In the days of sailing ships it was a vital resupply stop. Had Germany landed during World Wars I or II, it could have been used for an American invasion. And in the 1960’s NASA built a space tracking station not far away on Coopers Island, across the harbor from St George’s.

About a dozen people gathered at the rocky fort to watch the ARC boats sail out of The St. George’s Cut, as this inlet is known. Penelope joined us too. One man had just run into old friend for the first time in thirty years who was now on the lead boat. They yelled out greetings. This started a trend of waving and shouting out to all the crews, wishing them a safe voyage.

A weathered old sailor spoke to a younger sailing enthusiast about his own trip across the Atlantic. But when one boat sailed on the wrong side of a buoy, he stopped the conversation. He was worried. The water was shallow there and the boat was in danger of running aground when it had barely set off. He gave us all a play-by-play of what was happening. Fortunately the crew narrowly avoided disaster.

I counted twenty six boats total. Standing out against the bright blue seas and pale blue sky, it was a beautiful sight (am I using the word beautiful too much? My apologies, but hey this is Bermuda!)

On the walk back into town we took the road that skirted the harbor. There are great views of downtown St. George’s from here. There’s even a ship wreck! We noticed that four of the ships with ARC flags were still in port. When we asked, the sailor answered “not enough wind”.

[He was right, because as I write this, one week later, I have found out that The ARC Rally was indeed several days without wind in the middle of the Atlantic. And yet the water was rough. One boat ran out of fuel and had to be helped by another. That is precisely the reason the rallies are organized. Much safer than going solo. Here’s hoping there is smooth sailing from here on in]

Lunch under the shade of trees in the little park on Ordnance Island (named for the munitions the British Navy used to keep there). Chatted with cruise passengers. A couple from the UK loved cruising so much they sailed to the US on The Queen Mary, were on this cruise with their family, and would take The Queen Mary back. I told her that long ago I had seen the maiden voyage of The Queen Mary. Mike and I took the kids to watch her sail out past The Statue of Liberty. It was accompanied by golden fire works.

As we lunched we listened to live music from the restaurants and watched a roof painter work on top of the renowned White Horse Bar (oldest in the country, apparently). We marveled at his calm as he navigated the ridged roof in the midday heat. The town crier was entertaining tourists with a traditional colonial skit about a gossiping woman sentenced to dunking. I swear it was the very same actress who was being dunked ten years ago. She’s got that bit down pat.

Not everyone was handling the heat well. I saw an elderly woman collapse at the entrance to The White Horse. An ambulance was called. I helped a cruiser woman who I found dizzy and nauseous in a shop. The clerk and I made her drink water and found her husband. I gave her my packs of almonds and bought her some ice cream. She had walked from the ferry to Tobacco Bay (about 2 miles) and back without a hat. Bermuda is hot, People! Prepare for it!

It was a good day to stroll through the shops. We kept running into people we knew, specially the family of roof painters who had been working on Hard a Lee all week. Three generations. The youngest gets paint on his shirt, just like I do (and because of that whenever I paint I wear a specific set of painting clothes). He was ready to party at the parade tomorrow. The matriarch of the family runs a classy Bermuda clothing place.

Went into Salt + Spray Soap Company where India allowed me to reserve some vanilla lavender body butter. They wouldn’t have labels, she said. No matter. I have been waiting 4 years to get more of this stuff!

Stopped into Moongate Brewery. Explored, found out about the upcoming Bermuda Day Pizza party and then played some table shuffle board. The open windows have cool breezes and a great view.

And all day long people have greeted each other (us too!) “Happy Bermuda Day!”

Back to Hard a Lee for a relaxing afternoon. Texted friends some photos since I could find no post cards at all. Mike developed his photos as I wrote. Dinner out on the dock. Read our book. Watched the pink and blue twilight over the harbor. The kisskadees grew silent. The tree frogs began to sing.

Another perfect day.