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Located in the Exuma Cays chain of islands, well away from the glittering hotels and glitzy casinos of Nassau in the Bahamas , the illusionist David Copperfield conceived and brought to life the Islands of what are now knowns as Copperfield Bay. Given that the nearest 'major' town is that of sleepy George Town, whose merely 1, people are still a good ways away, this is a wondrous setting for those wishing to get away from rush hours and boardroom meetings. It is here that pirates once hid out, followed later by Caribbean cocaine drug lords, only to have the likes of the world's wealthiest follow in their footsteps today. The experience may be shared by no more than 24 people at any given time, as that is the limit that has been set on its visitors. Needless to say, staying in the Bay's fabulous abodes, furnished and decorated with priceless treasures that David Copperfield has picked up from all over the world, is not an experienced designed with the budget-conscious family traveler in mind. Or, they may just opt to anchor their yachts offshore for a torch-lit dinner, scuba diving, and walks along the many wondrous beaches of Copperfield Bay. Those few who do make it, however, may be catered with seafood menus tailored to their personal requests and served whatever way they may desire. Following an exquisite meal, visitors can take personal drives in movie-like setups over their temporarily very own deserted beach, staying beside emerald waters in which to swim and bathe. Such visitors will often be in the company of fellow movie moguls and captains of industry, who may be seen passing by in speedboats of the latest design. In , David Copperfield bought the acre island of Musha Cay and its surrounding chain of islands. His purchase came after, allegedly, poring over a world map to draw a line joining such magical places as the Easter Island and Stonehenge, the Pyramid of Giza and the Pyramid of the Sun in the Yucatan, thereby determining the exact spot at which they magically intersected. In line with the magical theme of the host, activities include fairly common games altered to the taste of the very rich, such as a laser-tag competition, played laser-beam weapons, helicopters, and movie-like special effects. There is planned to be trained monkeys to read the minds of guests, and guide them through their secret village. Green parrots are trained to clean beaches and return to their cages at dusk at the ring of a bell. A herd of giraffes is also to be found onsite for additional fun. Once called Yumey and Suma by the aboriginal population native to the area, the Exuma area can be divided into three primary habitats: those of Great Exuma, Little Exuma, and The Exuma Cays. The last of these is where this getaway for the very rich and famous was built. Nearby can be found the Moria Harbour Cay National Park between Great and Little Exuma, The ecosystem is home to mangroves and seagrass beds, supporting nesting seabirds and serving as a nursery for marine life. Stromatolites, the oldest known macro-fossils recording biological activity that could span thousands of years, are found on some of the beaches as well. Many of these people were originally slaves brought by Americans loyal to Britain to the area following the American Revolution. The Exumas are subject to the hurricane season, which typically last from June until November. Meanwhile, the Gray Reef Sharks that swim in the waters pose risks to swimmers as well. Luckily, the area generally escapes with a few heavy showers in hurricanes, and the sharks that thrive on shallow flats and reefs usually coexist happily with swimmers. They are in fact unlike the more aggressive shark species that inhabit deeper ocean waters. Given that Copperfield Bay's attractions are enhanced by the surrounding natural wonders, hopefully it will give incentive to visitors and those learning about the area to support sustainable tourism and conservation efforts in this part of the Atlantic Ocean and adjoining waters. Illusionist David Copperfield has created his own slice of paradise in the Bahamian Exuma Cays, though visitors must pay hefty prices to enjoy it. Description Located in the Exuma Cays chain of islands, well away from the glittering hotels and glitzy casinos of Nassau in the Bahamas , the illusionist David Copperfield conceived and brought to life the Islands of what are now knowns as Copperfield Bay. Tourism Needless to say, staying in the Bay's fabulous abodes, furnished and decorated with priceless treasures that David Copperfield has picked up from all over the world, is not an experienced designed with the budget-conscious family traveler in mind. Uniqueness In , David Copperfield bought the acre island of Musha Cay and its surrounding chain of islands. Threats The Exumas are subject to the hurricane season, which typically last from June until November. Andrew Linder April 25 in Travel. Scalloping and Offshore Adventure in Steinhatchee, Florida. Orlando Beyond the Theme Parks. Day Tripping Around Atlantic Beach. Visiting Old Friends in the UK. Banff's Balancing Act of Crowds and Hidden gems.

Copperfield Bay, Bahamas - Unique Places around the World

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Montreal-based writer and former VICE editor Adam Leith Gollner is one of those seemingly regular Joes who continually finds himself in strange, almost unbelievable situations. You are. He attributes this to a natural curiosity, openness, and a constant search for things to write about. You just say yes and start packing your bags. This happened to me a few years ago. Bugs or insects that are near death come in contact with the water, they fly away. Until the tests were carried out, the magician said, he was refusing anyone else access to the water. In aerial photographs, the main island resembles a bat with its wings outstretched. It seemed like a story just waiting to be written, and after a lengthy negotiating period, Copperfield agreed to let me visit for a few days. But if you want to talk about the meaning of the fountain—that, we can do. I speak about the fountain with great verbal aplomb. Shortly before the trip, Copperfield suggested I bring someone along. As we entered the infinite blue of the Atlantic adjacent to Exuma International Airport, our speedboat skimmed toward the Out Islands. About 45 minutes later, we arrived at Musha Cay, the main island of Copperfield Bay. Just off the dock, stairs lead to a large building called the Landings, a tasteful wooden affair painted in pastel green, blue, and yellow. His face was partially concealed by a small-domed black cap. As he approached, his deep-set eyes brightened, becoming big and glossy. He was friendly, if formal, and appeared pressed for time. As soon as we shook hands, he looked at his watch and suggested we tour the island before dinner. He started by showing us a game room in the reception area. He showed off some of his other collectibles, including a creaky fortune-teller machine, an early motion-picture device called a Mutoscope, and a year-old claw-digger amusement device. We watched them go at it. The bikini- and stiletto-clad girls stood on the beach, clustered around two shallow trenches filled with water. Two girls each selected a goldfish from a central tank, placing one fish in their respective trenches. A whistle sounded. The models put straws in their mouths and started blowing bubbles into the water to make the fish swim forward. The freaked-out fish kept darting around, forward and backward, as the ultrathin models puffed furiously into their straws. One of them nearly got her goldfish to swim to the finish line before it abruptly turned around and zigzagged back down the concourse. Copperfield excitedly told us how much fun the models had while they were here. Raf looked over at me and rolled his eyes. Raf jumped into another cart driven by an assistant, and we all pulled out. A lot of cocaine went through Exuma. Oleanders and other lush flowers pulsated in the subtropical warmth. The sky had been overcast on our arrival, but slanting daggers of sunlight were now carving through the clouds, illuminating the Listerine waves below. The water, beautifully translucent, shimmered with almost unreal blue-green radiance. I asked Copperfield what color he thought it was. After all this time in the Caribbean, I let the photographs do the talking. You have to see it. As we steered away from the ocean, he pointed out other Musha must-sees, such as a statuesque 17th-century head from Burma and a collection of royal thrones from Africa. Our cart serpentined along a mazelike configuration of roads. I asked if it was possible to get lost on Musha. Copperfield stressed the importance of sticking to the paths because there were holes all over the island. I started scanning for any signs of life off the main path. As we drove upward, toward the manor, he told me that he maintains a full-time staff of over 30 employees on the island, including a zookeeper. As he spoke, a little bird scampered across the road. No, wait, an egress is an exit, a way out, an escape, right? We have a lot of crab-eating egrets down here. The downstairs suite contained an African-themed room with idols, masks, headdresses, and figurines used in tribal ceremonies. He took us into the dining room and showed us a canoe hanging from the ceiling that doubled as a chandelier. The ship started slowly descending. Things like that. In the master bedroom, he flipped another switch and a huge TV situated inside a wicker Indian chest floated out of the ground. As I perused the rarities on display, I half expected to come across a genuinely magical item, like transparent wings or a cloak of levitation. He wanted us to see the fitness center, so we jumped back into the golf carts. It looked like a basic corporate-hotel workout room, albeit one with an antique carnival-strongman statue out front. The photo looked doctored. He described Musha as his most important project to date. He parked the golf cart on a bed of white sand meticulously raked into swirls and geometric patterns. This character trait is exemplified by his desire to own a private island—to create paradise and live apart from the rest of humanity, to have no attachments and live in a blissful state of narcissistic fulfillment. To have things be exactly how you want them to be. To no longer suffer. To be perfect. Epic orchestral music reverberated through the breeze from some hidden hi-fi system. The music sounded heroic: full of horn swells, harp swoops, flute trills, and tribal drums, Braveheart for a moment, Lion King the next. It heightened the dramatic intrigue of being on the island, creating a sense that something monumental could happen at any instant. Maybe I was reading too much into it. He certainly took pride in his possessions and clearly cared a great deal about the island. Sure, he had an obsessive side, but despite his ludicrous wealth, Copperfield seemed reasonably normal—tense, certainly, and highly sensitive, but also hospitable, sardonically humorous, and a bit goofy. But his perfectionist tendencies soon came to the fore again when he demonstrated the specific way he liked the pillows arranged on the chaise lounges. Expounding on how much Musha meant to him, Copperfield said he wanted my readers to understand the passion he felt for this place. He spoke about how, despite the prohibitive costs of running the island, nothing could prevent him from focusing all his energies on his fabricated paradise. He explained his plans for a haunted island where it would snow on the beach. When he took a break to respond to a call on his walkie-talkie, Raf and I had a chance to speak openly. Everything has a secret compartment! The tour concluded with Copperfield showing us the various accommodation options, all of which were waterfront houses. As our golf cart hummed past an empty tennis court, Copperfield asked what I thought about the tour. As he dropped us off at our beach house, he mumbled something into the breeze about how much he appreciates being lost in illusions himself. Raf busied himself in the snack pantry, a larder closet stocked with chips, candy bars, cookies, crackers, nuts, popcorn, pretzels, Snapea Crisps, and any other junk food you could ever want. That Photoshop image is small potatoes. He laughed maniacally and looked to the heavens. Stopping suddenly, he threw me a cut eye. I filled Raf in on what David had said about this place being his most important project. A magician surrounded by supermodels on his island. What a tough life. Moments later, a black winged creature flew into the room and fluttered about erratically. Transylvanian thoughts caromed through my mind. Can he do that? We edged closer. Before us quivered an extremely large, velvety-black butterfly. Two striking dark-brown eyes looked out at us, one on either wing. It had the wingspan of a sparrow. Raf began shooting photos from different angles, and we both made various shooing motions, to no avail. By the time we left the Pier House for dinner, the winged insect had vanished. As we drove our golf cart toward the Landings, I spotted a sign that read petrified lake. Had it been there before, when we rolled through earlier? I made a note to investigate it later. By the time we showed up in the Houdini billiard room, it was about ten minutes later than Copperfield had suggested. His vexation was palpable. A couple of assistants were milling around, offering cocktails. As Copperfield had intimated earlier, she spoke about how her supermodel friends from Sports Illustrated and Vogue had loved their time on the island. One of them had said how coming here felt like coming home. He directed our attention toward the television screen displaying a promotional clip about his home in New York, a four-story penthouse apartment on East 57th and Lexington. The camera panned through a playroom full of penny-arcade games, carnival muscle-strength challenges, and other antique funfair curiosities. In the living room a number of nude wooden people were nailed to the two-story-high wall in various contortions. The mannequins pinned up there like human creepy-crawlies made me think of the dark butterfly in our room. Other weird contraptions flitted across the screen. I also have tons of ray guns. I have a whole room full of ventriloquial dummies. I love objects that carry with them amazing stories. But her feet seemed perfectly normal to me. Copperfield handled it deftly and politely, explaining how all people have parts of themselves they are sensitive about, and how we all deal with them as children. He even mentioned his own complex: big ears, which explained his affinity for Super Mario, a. It was just one of the many nuggets of wisdom he generously dropped during our time together, which included sayings about everything from forgiveness to decision making. It was just a game, but I was living it. My whole life goes back to that camp experience when I was three or four. Everything is. The canoe is cool—but not as cool as having that canoe come down from the ceiling full of sushi. The kitchen staff served each of us a braised-lamb dish, except for Copperfield, who was brought a platter of breaded chicken fingers. As Copperfield moved inside to set things up with a gaggle of helpers, Raf and I lingered on the dock, looking down at the sharks drifting through the waves below. Raf wondered what M thought of all those models crucified on the wall. The whole island is. You almost need to turn your eyes away. Or talk about how big her feet are. On our way into the karaoke room, I noticed an illustrated map of Musha. A sanctuary? A consecrated place where sacred objects are kept? His seriousness made me reluctant to press the matter, while simultaneously affirming my hunch. Whether sanctuary or petrified lake, its liquids would undoubtedly be worth exploring. Printed by permission. By Adele Luamanuvae. By Nick Thompson. Share: X Facebook Share Copied to clipboard. Follow the Sounds of the Spice Trail…

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