How to make it up to your wife
Ritz-Carlton runs a piece of paradise in Bahamas called Abaco Club
It's 1972 and she's sulky.
But I liked that look. All tossed red hair and pout.
THINGS TO DO: Abaco boasts the first Scottish-style golf course in the tropics as well as tennis courts, equestrian center, spa and dining. Snorkeling, diving, deep-sea fishing and flats fly-fishing are some of the water activities on offer.
GETTING THERE: Daily direct flights from Miami, Fort Lauderdale, West Palm Beach and Nassau. Abaco has its own terminal at Marsh Harbour Airport.
WEATHER: Temperatures range from the high 70s and 80s in fall and winter; 80s to low 90s in spring and summer.
MORE INFO: (888) 303-2765; TheAbacoClub.com
Back then she said, "A three-day weekend in a tent in the wettest place in England? I won't be marrying you if that's the best you can do."
I was 19. Hadn't even given her a ring yet. Rod Stewart on his first blond. Donny Osmond shaving his chest, Suzi Quatro showing everyone the joys of zips and leather.
I googled Suzi the other day to see how she's getting on after all this time. She's just written her autobiography. The same Suzi who used to have wild parties and six-hour sex sessions. Who once shot Alice Cooper with an arrow and there was blood. Now Suzi makes you take your shoes off when you go to her house. Worries about mud on her carpet.
We listened to Suzi back then in that tent, on my little transistor radio in the English Lake District. Sometimes it stopped raining.
"You'd better make this up to me," she said, all narrow-eyed and wringing out her socks.
Clear communication is important in a relationship. Never been an issue with us.
Now the last kid is at college and I AM making it up. Taking her away again. O'Hare to Miami and a quick hop to the Abaco Club in the Bahamas where there are 72 kinds of rum.
72!
Things are different with us after 30-odd years.
Fish & chips to sushi. 45s to iPods. Mateus Rose to merlot. Skin-tight blue jeans to elastic waistbands.
Some things never change though. We're on vacation and it's raining.
But she doesn't care. She didn't even pack her socks.
She's admiring the Abaco Club's trees: Poinciana. Satin Leaf. Major. Lion Paw. She loves the sounds of the names.
We meet new people. There's Carla, the lady at the spa. Carla has the most promising thumbs I've ever seen on a woman.
"Do you have any medical conditions I need to know about?" Carla asks. "Anything ever broken?"
"Just my heart, couple of times."
Carla is nice but she stares and takes my wrist as if to check for the plastic bracelet that identifies me as an institutional patient on weekend release.
"I am leaving the room now," she says. "Undress, hop on the table, pull this sheet over you and I'll be back in a few minutes."
The massage? My back is a piano, Carla is Diana Krall.
Ritz-Carlton manages the Abaco Club, a blend of beach resort and investment property opportunity. One- and two-acre estate lots are going for $1 million to $3 million and turnkey cottages -- two-, three- and four-bedroom plans -- start at $1.7 million.
We're in a one-room cabana in Winding Bay on a road chopped out of wilderness. There are about 20 of these for visitors like us, and they start at $499 a night. Out the door and a quick, 60-second stroll through gardenia, ruellia and jasmine and we're on one of the world's best beaches. Pink-hued. Knee-deep turquoise sea. Not many people. No danger of bumping into that dreadful friend from Beverly.
Along the shore are 63 "estate lots," new homes that blend with the screensaver-look of the bay. These cost a million or two, many are already sold, a few more are being built, and I'm doubling the money I spend on the Illinois Lottery so I can get us one.
Then there's the golf. The club has the world's first Scottish-style tropical links championship course. Can there be a better view anywhere? The view is all I need since I don't play golf, but even I can see the grass is as smooth as a pool table. Not to name drop, but Sean Connery loves it. Tells anyone who will listen.
Every bar should have an Archie.
The best ones do.
Archie runs his beach bar with shuffle and wit. Ask for a drink he says things like:
"Right-away!"
"On the loose with the juice!"
"Pep in your step, glide in your slide!"
I'm not a good glider but I sure tried.
Ritz-Carlton has work to do getting Abaco's laid-back staff up to Ritz-Carlton Chicago speed, but they'd better leave Archie alone.
I like quiet, especially the morning after.
Did I mention this place has 72 kinds of rum?
There's a graveyard not far away, next to a lovely church on a hill overlooking the sea.
A few dozen graves, the names fading after two centuries of wear with salt water and sun. The names are repetitive: Malone. Russell. Nisbet. Sweeting. Lowe. Aubry. The names of everyone in town.
Over here lies Mary Thompson, 1920 to 1999: "I AM FINE," says her gravestone.
Well, it is a fine place to spend eternity and Mary's got a great view.
Even when it's raining.
