In the early 70's I was marooned on this island, then called San Andros, left by a corporate jet, waiting days for another plane to land. I use to go to private airports and hitch rides on private planes going where ever they took me. What an adventure for a young woman in her 20's. One hotel, a king and queen, a small landing strip and all the conch I could eat. My most vivid memory was of the crystal clear waters that surrounded the island. In those days I could see the bones swimming un-molested in the shallows as I paddled my way over sands white. I've never been back. Now that I fly fishing this might be an adventure revisited.