THE BAHAMAS. THERE ARE 700 hundred islands in the sun. Another totally new experience, never to be forgotten. Tasmania has a different kind of beauty; it has the same long white sandy and deserted beaches, but usually not the warmth or tropical atmosphere of the Bahamian Islands.
I had just had a miscarriage at seven months, and it had been a horrible experience in the hospital. Not only the event itself, but how I was treated; so I had to get away from the icy cold.
Gerry took time off and we flew down to Nassau in The Bahamas for seven days. It was a package tour with everything included. These packages were very popular; so much so, that the travel companies running them used to charter several large planes to accommodate all the Canadians who were trying to escape the winter blues. The whole place just knocks you out on your first visit. Warm, humid air, greets you as you step off the plane, and in those days, a calypso band greeted you, playing Island songs, usually with a native girl nearby offering you a local rum punch. A Bahama Mama or Yellow bird, a mixture of several kinds of rum. We were in heaven. The hotel was surrounded by Hibiscus vines and bushes everywhere. The food was delicious, with lots of fresh fish and fruit. I was well and truly hooked.
I felt like Shirley Valentine. (For anyone who doesn't know of her, she was a bored British housewife from Liverpool who escaped to a Greek Island.) We returned on a second trip and a third.
One evening I started talking to the Tour host employed by the Tour company to take care of Excursions and hotel requests, who sat in the hotel lobby most evenings for an hour or two. It seems she was leaving to go back to Toronto and they were looking for a replacement who could speak French. This was for the French Canadian passengers who numbered about a thousand each week. Each host had to give an Orientation speech during a Welcome Rum punch party at each hotel. In English and in French. What a job!
After hearing that family members could fly down on the company's plane at the weekends, free of charge, I discussed the idea of applying for the job with my husband. He had often said how guilty he felt back home, when he was so preoccupied with his work. He loved it, but realized how miserable I was, especially about the freezing cold.
Cutting to the chase again, I got the job and worked there for the next three winters. While there I looked after five hotels in Freeport. My first week on the job was Christmas week, I was so happy but it was a shocker.
Some of the hotels were very short staffed, so there was a high turnover of staff. What happened was really not surprising. There were four planes coming in every Saturday night with around 200 passengers on each plane. Part of my job was meeting these new arrivals, the groups at the airport and putting them with their luggage on buses to the various hotels. As well as saying goodbye to the departing passengers, who were reluctantly returning to Canada and the snow.
Hopefully the hotel staff would be there to meet them and give them their rooms keys.
As I said, this was my first week on the job, and I accompanied the last bus to the final hotel. When we arrived, we found that there was a large Welcome Rum punch party going on for a group I knew nothing about, who had already arrived! But not from Canada, I quickly found out.
The hotel had double-booked the hundred or so rooms, and my group were now on the doorstep to the lobby, tired after their plane journey from Canada. Wow. Quel problem! I kept smiling. Obviously they were all invited to join the party, which gave me enough time to phone around and see where I could find rooms for the late arrivals. It was Christmas Eve. Everywhere was booked! Eventually I found a hotel which wasn't under contract to us, and they took them in.
I finally got to bed around 2:00 a.m. at another of our hotels. Thank goodness the night manager was kind enough not to call me an hour later, when the first call came in from that hotel saying that four passengers had been sent to the local hospital with food poisoning. Worse was to come. Most of the other passengers were ill too. It must have been the conk fritters at the party.
Later that morning, I was surprised to see my Canadian boss and two other officials walk into the hotel, having flown in from Canada. News had spread and they didn't want any of this leaked to Canadian newspapers, of course. Luckily, because of the glorious weather, the passengers seemed to recover fast and the rest of the week went smoothly. It was an initiation I hadn't expected. Most passengers enjoyed their stay, except I felt sorry for the ones, sometimes whole families who had saved up all year for this holiday, if it rained all week they were there. I tried to plan indoor activities and drive people around in the car I was provided with, but stuck in their rooms, they started to complain about the wallpaper and pictures being crooked. I wondered what I had let myself in for. If a group turns nasty on you there is nothing you can do. I had been warned; thank goodness this didn't happen.
Weeks passed so quickly. I loved it. There were many places to take my guests. Each evening we had a different place to go. It was all pure escape. I had lots of free time during the day when everyone was at the beach or playing golf. I noticed there were many yachts in the two boat marinas that were flying Canadian flags, so one morning I walked along the pier and introduced myself to anybody who was up on deck. I had done some radio interviews at the Cannes Film Festival the previous year for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. I thought my editor might be interested in interviewing some of these Canadians.
Next day I took my tape recorder with me, and managed to interview two or three yacht owners. Basically theirs were predictable stories. Most of them were living out their retirement dreams. Buying a boat and living in the Bahamas. But sad to say, most moved on after a year or so, mainly out of boredom, lack of activity and/or drinking too much. Many of them, if they stayed, became alcoholics. Others found their families were unhappy, even though they had been thrilled at first. It was an eye opener, and all rather sad. A few kept busy, read a lot, and island hopped over to Eleuthera or Harbour Island, both being fairly close.
The winter came to an end, then our company concentrated instead on sending passengers to Las Vegas or California in the summer, still taking reservations months in advance for a Bahamian Christmas.
It was always a shock to fly back to Toronto. I found it more difficult each year. For some reason there didn't seem to be much happening in that city. During the winter I had met a very talented Bahamian singer, Wendel Stuart, who ran his own night club in Freeport. He was a cross between Sammy Davis Jr and Harry Belafonte. He had the vitality and charisma of Sammy but with Harry's marvellous voice. He sang the Island songs as well as his own compositions. He asked me to help him try and get a job either in Canada or New York, as his night club closed in the summer months. There were no tourists!
One morning I read a small article in a Toronto paper that caught my eye. Two producers were opening an office in Toronto to promote and begin a weekly T.V. Variety Show called The Palace, starring the singer Jack Jones, with different celebrity guests each week. A similar format to the Ed Sullivan Show.
International celebrity guests such as B.B.King, Cher, Ethel Merman, Lou Rawls, Diana Ross would all make the trip to Toronto to appear with Jack Jones.
Canada was a popular destination for American performers. Pierre Trudeau was the Prime Minister at the time. There were rumors he was dating Barbra Streisand as well as moving in entertainment circles, both in Canada and the States.
Well, this was my chance. I had to get Wendell on that show somehow. He was unknown outside The Bahamas, as he had no agent, but if I could get them to hear him sing, it was worth a try. Here we go again; it was survival time again in Toronto.
Somehow I found out where they were opening an office. I went there, but it was locked. I went again the next day and found someone delivering office furniture. I asked when the occupants would be there. They said the following day. I went there again, there was a painter in the next room, so I sat on a sofa in the waiting room and waited. When the two producers arrived they were surprised to see me waiting in their office. I had determined I would not leave until I had a job.
They knew they wouldn't be able to get rid of me easily, so they gave me a job as their PR person. I knew how to send out press releases and to whom, so it was a pleasure to start the next week. Other people arrived, were hired and the production company started work.
The taping began. We filmed in a large theatre in Hamilton, about 40 miles from Toronto. Part of my job was to meet the celebrity guests at the airport with a limo and take them to the theater. During that time I sat in the back seat with artists like Charles Aznavour and Michel Le Grand, Henry Mancini and all my idols. It was terrific to have one-to-one conversations with them.
One day in the office one of the stars cancelled at the last moment, so I took the opportunity to walk into my boss's office to give him a CD of Wendell. It was the perfect moment. He said he'd have to hear hm in person, so Wendell flew up to Toronto the next day, sang for both of them---only one verse---and they hired him. He was in the show. Mission accomplished. I still have the video of that show. Unfortunately, a few weeks later, Wendell suddenly died of a blood clot. It shocked all of us. At least he had appeared on prime time television singing with the greats.
Onward and Upwards. If only it was that easy!!
I was restless again, life was happening elsewhere and I wanted to be part of it. I knew I would never find another job like that in Toronto. It was a once in a lifetime show. I used to watch live Cabaret shows in the Imperial Room at the Royal York Hotel. Then they stopped. There were no other shows in Toronto except touring shows in the two large theatres downtown.
I flew back to New York. Wow! The energy was still there! You could smell it. I breathed it in as I took a taxi from the airport. I rented an apartment and settled in. It was near Central Park, so every day I walked in the Park. How many times I searched the New York Times classifieds.
Eventually I found a small ad looking for a personal assistant to a celebrity. When I phoned, the woman who answered wouldn't tell me who it was, but after some persuading she said it was for the actor Yul Brynner who was about to make his final American Tour, starring in The King and I. I got the job and saw more of America than I had dreamed of in the company of that wonderful show. I wrote about touring and working with Yul Brynner in my book, Theatrical Feast of New York.