Pigs, putts and paradise, the Bahamas brings you a holiday with a difference
Hurricane Dorian caused devastation when it swept through the islands last year. But DAVID YOUNG finds that it’s business as usual in Great Exuma
IT’S a question sure to interrupt any daydream. I’m enjoying a lavish breakfast in the Bahamian haven of Great Exuma, ruminating about swing flaws and missed putts, when my wife comes across a guidebook entry she feels merits my attention.
“What should you do if you’re chased by a swimming pig?” she reads deadpan, coffee in hand, without a glance away from the page.
Kerri’s query conjures a somewhat alarming prospect.
I’m in the Bahamas ostensibly to brush up on a flagging golf game at Sandals Emerald Bay resort; not flee the trotters of an enraged waterborne hog. Thankfully, she moves swiftly to the guidebook’s recommended answer.
It transpires the world-renowned swimming pigs who’ve made an uninhabited Bahamian island their home are not aggressive pursuers; they’re just not very good at stopping.
As they’ve only been at it for around 15 years (swimming, that is), I suppose evolution hasn’t yet had a chance to equip them with physiology more suited to the amphibious lifestyle they’ve unexpectedly embraced.
There are several local legends as to how a small group of pigs ended up on Big Major Cay, one of around 360 islands that make up the idyllic Exumas region of the Bahamas.
Some say they were left by sailors who intended to return to cook them but never did; others claim they were washed ashore from a shipwreck.
As the tour boat approaches ‘Pig Island’, our guide MJ insists it was the work of a local farmer, who thought its water hole and ample vegetation made it a perfect place to plump up his livestock.
The engine noise rouses the resident 20 pigs and piglets from their midday sunbathe. Snorting loudly, they trot down to shore and start paddling out toward us.
“The pigs were smart,” MJ continues. “They learned to swim and saved themselves. No one’s going to eat those pigs now.”
And he’s right. The swimming pigs have become a tourism sensation in recent years, drawing thousands of visitors keen to tick off what has become a surprise ‘bucket list’ experience.
“We call him Kung Fu Panda,” MJ shouts, a bucket of vegetables under his arm as he wades between the inquisitive stingrays gliding around our feet.
He’s pointing at a hefty black and white chap who’s chugging at pace in my direction.
“Watch out – he’s a kicker!” Luckily, I avoid a kick from the pig named after a panda. He instead halts his momentum by clumsily bumping his snout into my stomach. A couple of carrots and an obligatory selfie later and he’s off again, paddling unsteadily towards his next food-bearing human buffer stop. Swimming with the pigs is the highlight of a packed afternoon trip around the Exumas with Island Routes tours – a rollick that also includes reef snorkelling; peaking at the island homes of the rich and famous; and a stop at a beach populated by hundreds of endangered Bahamian Rock iguanas.
It comes midway through our week on Great Exuma, the largest of the Exumas.
Our home is a fabulous beach-side house at Sandals’ acclaimed all-inclusive resort, which sits like a jewel on the mile-long stretch of unspoiled sand that wraps around Emerald Bay. And our plan, swimming with pigs aside, revolves around golf and relaxation.
Not that Rich Gibson goes in for much relaxation on the range.
The veteran golf pro at Sandals’ championship Greg Normandesigned course, delights in keeping his students on their toes.
“Imagine you’re swinging at the girl who stole your lunch money at school,” he jokes, employing another colourful metaphor to urge Kerri to hit the ball harder.
My wife’s a complete novice and I’m seriously out of practice.
Gibby, as he’s known to the sun-seeking golfers who come back to play this spectacular ocean-front course year after year, tailors our block of lessons accordingly.
“Why are you lying to me?” he demands with faux outrage, as Kerri pings a drive 150 yards down the middle. “A beginner? You’re no beginner?”
His disarming manner makes learning fun and explains the popularity of his coaching programme.
“I guess this is the best job in the world,” he concedes as he joins us at the end of a lesson to play a few holes on a course that hosts a PGA tour-sanctioned tournament every January.
Watching the boats bob in the azure sea around the rocky outcrop