Geologists' Adventure On Eleuthera
by Marvin Hunt
In geologic time, what Stephen J. Gould calls “deep time,” the evidence gathered by Neumann and Hearty on Eleuthera reveals catastrophic fluctuations of the sea level during the last 125,000 years. By week's end, they would push the record back perhaps 400,000 years with the discovery of a fossil beach 70 feet above the present sea level.
The first morning we worked in the northern interior of the island mapping what Hearty calls chevrons, ancient ridges of concretized sand deposited by violent storms when the sea level was much higher. This took us into very rough country, through orange and banana plantations lined with guava and mango trees.
At mid-day we stopped on a remote paved road cut into the summit of a hill where engineers had left standing a stone tower 15 feet high as a pedestal for a utility pole. For geologists such ridges provide a mother lode of information, exposing rock features deposited over many thousands of years.
They were like children at Christmas; I was more interested in the smashed carcass of Bahamian boa by the roadside. Here Neumann and Hearty sampled rock strata that contained microscopic fenestrations, tiny bubbles indicating that the hill had been formed by wet sand along the wave break of an ancient shore. When the moisture evaporated the sand became a porous, bleached limestone composed of fenestrae and oolite -- rock made up of tiny mineral grains precipitated out of the ancient ocean. The presence of fenestra and oolite in the interior of the island provides telling evidence of storms that pushed these sand ridges up while the ocean gradually receded more than 100,000 years ago.
A brown and white van pulled to a stop behind Bahama Mama and a half-dozen men and women emerged. Conrad, who never met a stranger, greeted them warmly.
“We are witnessing,” said a handsome Bahamian in his Sunday suit, precisely in a slightly British accent. “Oh, yes?” said Conrad, apparently confused. “We're looking at the rocks. Bubbles in the rocks.” “Yes. Yes. That's interesting.” The Bahamian nodded his head, curious but equally mystified. The women in their fine print dresses nodded and smiled. “We are visiting lost brethren in the area.” They were Christians.
“Ah, well,” Conrad ventured, “perhaps I shouldn't tell you that we're geologists.”
Here on this obscure road in the Eleutheran bush Faith met Inquiry at high noon under a blazing sun, with embarrassingly few souls in sight. Conrad launched a brief account of essential geology heavy on the concept of deep time, but Chief Witness wasn't fazed.
“We have no problem with rocks being 3 billion years old,” he said. “Genesis 1.1. tells us only how the earth was created for man's habitation. No, I do not wish to deny the record,” he said. “What matters is that God created everything.” He swept his arm toward the bush and addressed his flock: “Even some Christians miss the point of Genesis 1.1., which tells us that the continents rose up out of the seas at God's command. At one time the whole world was underwater. Is that not right, Mr. Geologist?”
“Well,” said Conrad deftly equivocating, “knowing how all this was formed, what it is, only increases the mystery, doesn't it?”
“Praise the Lord,” said one of the women. The others nodded and smiled. For the next few minutes Chief Witness addressed us on matters of doctrine. It was our turn to nod and smile. Then the Believers wished us farewell, got back into their van and drove off, leaving behind pamphlets titled “Will This World Survive” and “Why You Can Trust the Bible.”
Sermons In Stone
In geologic time, what Stephen J. Gould calls “deep time,” the evidence gathered by Neumann and Hearty on Eleuthera reveals catastrophic fluctuations of the sea level during the last 125,000 years. By week's end, they would push the record back perhaps 400,000 years with the discovery of a fossil beach 70 feet above the present sea level.
The first morning we worked in the northern interior of the island mapping what Hearty calls chevrons, ancient ridges of concretized sand deposited by violent storms when the sea level was much higher. This took us into very rough country, through orange and banana plantations lined with guava and mango trees.
At mid-day we stopped on a remote paved road cut into the summit of a hill where engineers had left standing a stone tower 15 feet high as a pedestal for a utility pole. For geologists such ridges provide a mother lode of information, exposing rock features deposited over many thousands of years.
They were like children at Christmas; I was more interested in the smashed carcass of Bahamian boa by the roadside. Here Neumann and Hearty sampled rock strata that contained microscopic fenestrations, tiny bubbles indicating that the hill had been formed by wet sand along the wave break of an ancient shore. When the moisture evaporated the sand became a porous, bleached limestone composed of fenestrae and oolite -- rock made up of tiny mineral grains precipitated out of the ancient ocean. The presence of fenestra and oolite in the interior of the island provides telling evidence of storms that pushed these sand ridges up while the ocean gradually receded more than 100,000 years ago.
A brown and white van pulled to a stop behind Bahama Mama and a half-dozen men and women emerged. Conrad, who never met a stranger, greeted them warmly.
“We are witnessing,” said a handsome Bahamian in his Sunday suit, precisely in a slightly British accent. “Oh, yes?” said Conrad, apparently confused. “We're looking at the rocks. Bubbles in the rocks.” “Yes. Yes. That's interesting.” The Bahamian nodded his head, curious but equally mystified. The women in their fine print dresses nodded and smiled. “We are visiting lost brethren in the area.” They were Christians.
“Ah, well,” Conrad ventured, “perhaps I shouldn't tell you that we're geologists.”
Here on this obscure road in the Eleutheran bush Faith met Inquiry at high noon under a blazing sun, with embarrassingly few souls in sight. Conrad launched a brief account of essential geology heavy on the concept of deep time, but Chief Witness wasn't fazed.
“We have no problem with rocks being 3 billion years old,” he said. “Genesis 1.1. tells us only how the earth was created for man's habitation. No, I do not wish to deny the record,” he said. “What matters is that God created everything.” He swept his arm toward the bush and addressed his flock: “Even some Christians miss the point of Genesis 1.1., which tells us that the continents rose up out of the seas at God's command. At one time the whole world was underwater. Is that not right, Mr. Geologist?”
“Well,” said Conrad deftly equivocating, “knowing how all this was formed, what it is, only increases the mystery, doesn't it?”
“Praise the Lord,” said one of the women. The others nodded and smiled. For the next few minutes Chief Witness addressed us on matters of doctrine. It was our turn to nod and smile. Then the Believers wished us farewell, got back into their van and drove off, leaving behind pamphlets titled “Will This World Survive” and “Why You Can Trust the Bible.”
Eleuthera's Marvin Gardens
Three years after Hurricane Andrew ravaged Eleuthera there was evidence of destruction everywhere. On the way back to Gregory Town, we passed an empty A-Frame whose doors and windows had been blown out. A half-submerged car was visible in the little bay at the back of the house. In the front yard, a clutch of burrowing owls stirring in the late afternoon took no notice of us.
Closer to Gregory Town we turned back north along Whale Point Road. Here another ridge had been cut through to make a roadbed. While Conrad and Paul chipped away at rocks, I climbed the bank and made my way through sea grape, palmetto bushes and around huge termite mounds, toward the Atlantic. Where the vegetation ended an expanse of unbroken, slate-colored rock weathered into peaks and wedges began.
It would be a difficult walk, but I could see the ocean 200 yards away and set out toward it. Soon I was standing at the top of a sheer cliff. Sixty-five feet below the Atlantic thundered against it, throwing a brilliant white spray half-way up the wall. In the stiff breeze terns and gulls struggled to maintain their positions at eye-level against a sky whose blue had deepened richly in the late afternoon. I could see for miles. The scene was vividly colored-gray rock, white birds, blue ocean and sky.
I was alone, and it occurred to me that I might be the only person who'd ever been here. I felt blessed, like Columbus maybe, who sailed this coastline in 1492. Earlier in the day, I had read a cryptic message written in the piling of a bridge when the cement was wet: “Columbus he standing up all the way around.”
I stood up and took a circuitous route back, following the cliffs north and then turning inland across the field of unbroken rock. Ahead rose a rough wall of stone several meters high that appeared to be a maze of concretized tree roots.
Carrying on, I met Conrad and Paul and told them what I'd seen. We made our way back toward the cliff. When we reached the wall there were shouts and exclamations. The geologists began photographing the structure furiously and taking notes. “Rhizomorphs,” Paul shouted. “A textbook instance.” I had stumbled upon a structure formed eons ago when sand surrounding fossil roots had concretized, leaving a tangle of stone tubing exposed in astonishing detail by wind and water cutting away at the base of the structure. I thought of Columbus again, and didn't hesitate to assume the role of explorer. “This land shall henceforth and forever more be called Marvin Gardens.”