This time, alongside us, a horde of people from the restaurant and the gift shop (duty-free) was ready, armed with massive amounts of equipment. The reason was the island itself. It has no shops, no restaurants, no souvenir stores, nor anything else that usually accompanies tourism. Everything literally has to be brought from the ship to continue standard sales, just like in any other port.

This meant piles of carts from the restaurant, crates and containers of food, fruit, vegetables, drinks, sacks full of t-shirts, souvenirs… Whatever is for sale on the ship must now be hauled off the ship. A truly rare sight at seven in the morning. If we photographers started our prep work at six, I genuinely believe the restaurant staff must have started at five or even earlier to have everything ready. But that’s in the job description for all of us. Whoever wants to complain or doesn’t like it can go home at the first opportunity. Even if someone wanted to whine early in the morning, they knew it was futile (they could complain to their mom over the phone later). Since we had the least amount of accompanying equipment, the photo team always boarded the first boat; we took up much less space than the other departments. As with everything else so far, this new experience awakened my curiosity and desire to see and remember everything as vividly as possible. We departed the ship toward the deserted island. How surreal that sounds.

Up until now, I had rarely been on any island in my life, and now I was approaching a deserted one in the Bahamas! Do I need to mention that the water color was a heavenly, fantastic blue, yet so clear that everything on the bottom was easily visible? Even at seven in the morning, the smile didn’t leave my face. This was exactly why I wanted to come to the ship. To see something breathtaking, to marvel at incredible sights. Not to watch them on TV and imagine them somewhere out there. Now I was part of them; I was living it. The distance from the ship to the island was perhaps a kilometer. We covered that distance in about ten minutes and then entered a very narrow, perfectly manicured inlet. It was a beautifully designed channel with perfectly arranged rocks lining the shore all around. It was obvious that human hands had played a part in its creation; nature alone couldn’t have “designed” something like this. The channel stretched for about a hundred meters and led to a neat little marina where, at most, three boats could dock at once. Then came the unloading of equipment. Just as with the departure, we finished first. Having done what we needed to do, we now practically had a break until eight or eight-thirty, as the boats headed back to pick up the first passengers, the early risers.

We Have Arrived…

We used that hour to explore the surroundings a bit, to see what this Half Moon looked like. At the pier itself, a large gate had been built, resembling the entrance to a medieval fortress. This was “our” spot. In this bottleneck, we were supposed to photograph as many guests as possible.

But it had to be done with finesse. Under no circumstances could we create a bottleneck or hold up the guests for too long. Everything had to be done on the fly, snapping as many pictures as possible while they were moving. That was our task. But until then, we had an hour, so I decided to tour the place itself. As I passed through the gate, I came upon a large square lined with various empty stalls. These were being prepped by the remaining crew members who had arrived with us. Various restaurants, shops, and stands. Different departments were taking care of them. Besides all that, an infirmary had been set up on the left side. Two nurses and a doctor had also come with us, taken their positions, and were ready for duty. Except for us, the arriving crew, no one was there. The island was truly deserted. Simply incredible, but true.

Beyond that square, in the immediate vicinity, less than two hundred meters away, lay the beach. As I approached it, I was left speechless.

LITERALLY…