#bahamian folklore

[briefbestiary]

A monster of the abyssal depths. It drags victims down, from individual sailors up to whole ships.

[iloveethnicities]

Oral tradition and storytelling hold a revered and enduring place in Afro-Bahamian culture, serving as a foundational practice for preserving heritage, history, and cultural values across generations. The roots of this oral tradition extend back to West African cultures, where storytelling was central to cultural continuity, education, and community life. Afro-Bahamians have maintained and evolved these traditions, blending them with Caribbean and Bahamian influences to create a rich tapestry of narratives that reflect their unique experiences, identity, and worldview.

Oral tradition in Afro-Bahamian culture goes beyond entertainment; it is a mechanism of cultural preservation, a medium of education, and a source of identity. Stories passed down through oral means serve as “living histories,” chronicling ancestral experiences, significant events, social norms, and moral values that are essential to community life. Through storytelling, older generations impart wisdom and life lessons to younger ones, covering topics as diverse as resilience, love, bravery, and the importance of community. For Afro-Bahamians, storytelling is often a way to affirm their connection to African ancestry while also highlighting their adaptation and resilience within the Bahamian context.

Afro-Bahamian storytelling includes a variety of forms, such as folk tales, myths, historical recounts, parables, and personal anecdotes. Among the most popular are Anansi stories, which center around the clever and mischievous spider Anansi, a figure borrowed from West African folklore. Anansi tales often revolve around themes of cleverness, cunning, and justice, and they serve as both moral lessons and sources of humor. Anansi’s character embodies the idea of ��outsmarting” rather than overpowering, reflecting the wisdom of adaptability and intelligence as tools for survival and success.

In addition to Anansi tales, Afro-Bahamian oral tradition also includes historical stories and ancestral accounts, which often recount the struggles, resilience, and achievements of Afro-Bahamians throughout history. These stories frequently explore the experiences of enslaved people brought to the Bahamas and how they preserved their identity despite the hardships of colonization. Narratives of freedom, survival, and resistance are prominent, helping Afro-Bahamians connect with their past while fostering pride in their heritage.

Storytelling in Afro-Bahamian culture is inherently social, often taking place within community gatherings, family settings, and during festive events. These stories are traditionally passed down during intimate family gatherings, community celebrations, or in informal settings like porches and outdoor spaces where elders gather with younger community members. Within these settings, the storytelling experience is participatory, as listeners often engage by responding, asking questions, or even adding their own versions or interpretations of the story. This shared experience reinforces the sense of community and mutual responsibility, as stories become the collective property of the group.

The art of storytelling is also embodied in specific Bahamian celebrations, such as Junkanoo, the colorful festival that showcases Bahamian history and identity through dance, music, and costume. Although primarily a visual and performative event, Junkanoo embodies the spirit of Afro-Bahamian storytelling by reenacting historical narratives and myths, often through characters who represent figures from folklore or Bahamian history.

In Afro-Bahamian culture, the storyteller holds a respected role within the community. Often an elder or someone with a gift for words, the storyteller is seen as a custodian of tradition and a conveyor of wisdom. They are trusted to maintain the integrity of the stories while also interpreting and adapting them to ensure relevance to contemporary life. Skilled storytellers may use rhythm, song, humor, and even improvisation to captivate their audience, ensuring that stories are not only memorable but also engaging.

Many Afro-Bahamian storytellers employ call-and-response, a rhythmic and participatory style rooted in African oral traditions, where the audience plays an active role. This technique helps to engage listeners and make the stories more immersive, turning the storytelling session into a communal event where everyone, regardless of age, can feel involved and connected.

With modernization, the role of oral storytelling in Afro-Bahamian culture faces both challenges and opportunities. The rise of digital media, globalization, and a shift away from traditional lifestyles mean that young people today may have fewer opportunities to hear and participate in oral storytelling as their parents or grandparents did. However, there is a growing movement within the Bahamas to preserve these traditions. Efforts are being made by cultural organizations, schools, and community groups to keep the art of storytelling alive through organized events, storytelling festivals, and educational programs focused on Bahamian history and folklore.

Furthermore, technology is being harnessed to help preserve these stories. Audio recordings, podcasts, and social media platforms are increasingly being used to share Afro-Bahamian folk stories, ensuring that they reach a wider audience, including the Bahamian diaspora. This digital adaptation helps bridge the generational gap, allowing younger Bahamians and those abroad to access, enjoy, and pass on these cultural treasures.

Afro-Bahamian storytelling is rich with moral and cultural values, many of which emphasize the importance of community, resilience, respect for elders, and justice. Themes of collective responsibility, kinship, adaptability, and respect for heritage are interwoven throughout these narratives. For example, tales involving clever, trickster characters often underscore the importance of intelligence and quick thinking in overcoming adversity—an enduring message that reflects the Afro-Bahamian experience of survival and adaptation throughout history.

Storytelling also reinforces family and social bonds, as stories often include lessons about respect, kindness, and cooperation, emphasizing the values that keep the community strong. These narratives remind listeners that every individual has a role to play in the greater good of society, encouraging them to act with integrity and compassion.

In Afro-Bahamian culture, storytelling and oral tradition are far more than pastimes; they are integral parts of cultural expression, education, and continuity. By keeping the voices of ancestors alive, these stories offer a sense of identity, place, and purpose. They allow Afro-Bahamians to celebrate their unique heritage, honor the resilience of those who came before them, and pass down timeless wisdom to future generations. Through storytelling, Afro-Bahamians connect to both their African roots and their Bahamian home, weaving a cultural legacy that continues to shape and enrich their collective identity.

"Sloop John B."

[gaulinwife]

[ainews]

In 1662, a free lich or undead monster raised a commotion in the Bahamian city of Nassau. The story of this supernatural apparition created shockwaves throughout the British colonies as it was believed to be a sign of God's wrath against evil deeds.

The incident began when a local resident was walking through Nassau and minding their own business when they encountered the monster. The lich was said to have been translucent and ghastly while carrying a large metal cuirass wrapped around its body and bearing a strange green aura. The terrified resident ran from the scene and the news spread quickly from there.

Eventually, the story reached the ears of the local authorities and a posse was formed to handle the situation. After a short chase, the posse was able to capture the lich by outmaneuvering it and trapping it in a large gate. The authorities then released it in a place far away from the city, never to be seen again.

This incident left a lasting impression on the people of Nassau, and the local government quickly began to increase the efforts to fight corruption. This increased effort soon led to a significant transformation of Nassau, resulting in stronger government structures, improved public health and an overall more peaceful atmosphere.

This case of supernatural interference was a turning point in the history of Nassau and it accurately demonstrated that justice would be served if wrongdoings were present. The story of the lich has since become an important part of Bahamian folklore and a reminder for the people of Nassau to use their utmost discretion when it comes to their behavior.

[sexypinkon]

Lavar Munroe's latest foray

View works.

Sviriko: Spirit Medium, 2023

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Lavar Munroe is a Bahamian interdisciplinary artist working primarily in mixed media painting, cardboard sculpture, and drawings. His work examines themes present in folklore, fables and historic films ­– drawing comparison between his upbringing in the Bahamas and travels to various countries in Africa. Addressing multiple narratives that span personal, historical and mythological references, Munroe’s work presents conflicts between a desire to escape and the longing for home while challenging us to journey beyond the familiar. 

Described as a hybrid medium between painting and relief sculpture, Munroe’s work often incorporates sentimental objects collected and gifted from his family and objects found during his travels. His work focuses on themes such as journey, utopia, magic, love and the celebration of escape through fantastical and dreamlike imagery. Munroe (b.1982, Nassau, Bahamas) earned his BFA from Savannah College of Art and Design (2007) and MFA Studio Art at Washington University, St. Louis (2013). He also attended Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture (2013) and was awarded a postdoctoral research fellow at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill (2016), Benny Andrews Fellow from the MacDowell Colony (2016), and The Carolina Postdoctoral Program for Faculty Diversity-University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill NC (2014). 

Recent solo exhibitions include Jack Bell Gallery, London, England (2022, 2021, 2014); Walters Museum of Art, Baltimore, MD (2021); NOMAD, Brussels, Belgium (2017); Meadows Museum of Art, Shreveport, LA (2018); SCAD Museum of Art and Gutstein Gallery, Savannah, GA (2016); and The Central Bank, Nassau, Bahamas (2010). Notable group shows include The National Art Gallery of the Bahamas (2022); Centre Pompidou Metz, FR (2022); Ichihara Lakeside Museum (2020); Virginia Museum of Contemporary Art, Virginia Beach, VA (2020); Perez Art Museum Miami, FL (2019); Jack Bell Gallery, London, UK (2017); and Nasher Museum of Art, Durham, NC (2015). He has also been featured in the Art Basel Miami Beach (2022); Kampala Biennale (2020); Off Biennale Cairo (2018); 12th Dakar Biennale, Senegal, West Africa (2016); and 56th Venice Art Biennale (2015). His work is in the collections of The Baltimore Museum of Art,  Fondation de France; Fondation Gandur pour l’Art, Genève, Switzerland; The Studio Museum of Harlem, New York, NY; The Central Bank of the Bahamas, Nassau, BA; The National Art Gallery of the Bahamas, Nassau, BA; and the MAXXI Museum, Rome, IT. 

He is the recipient of honors and awards including the John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation Fellow, Robert De Niro Award (2023), the Sondheim Artscape Prize Finalist (2021), Distinguished Alums Award from Sam Fox School of Art and Design from Washington University of St. Louis (2018), Postdoctoral Award for Research Excellence from the University of North Carolina (2015), Sam Fox Dean’s Initiative Fund (2013), Joan Mitchell Foundation Painters and Sculptors Grant (2013), Joan Mitchell Foundation Scholarship (2012), The Kraus Family Foundation Award (2011), and The National Endowment for the Arts Grant (2011).

Munroe lives and works between Baltimore, MD, and the Bahamas.

[mr-sylvilagus]

Let’s go another step. Bugs Bunny isn’t the first or the only trickster rabbit in modern folklore. Among his contemporaries, the most relevant to this conversation is Br’er Rabbit. Br’er Rabbit was not invented by Disney. Per Wiki:

Br'er Rabbit ... is a central figure in an oral tradition passed down by African-Americans of the Southern United States and African descendants in the Caribbean, notably Afro-Bahamians and Turks and Caicos Islanders. He is a trickster who succeeds by his wits rather than by brawn, provoking authority figures and bending social mores as he sees fit.

...

Some scholars have suggested that in his American incarnation, Br'er Rabbit represented the enslaved Africans who used their wits to overcome adversity and to exact revenge on their adversaries, the white slave owners. Though not always successful, the efforts of Br'er Rabbit made him a folk hero.

Many Br’er Rabbit stories are descended from West African stories about a trickster figure called Anansi. Anansi wasn’t a rabbit. Anansi was sometimes depicted as a man, but much more often depicted as--well--a spider.

I use too many devices to keep track of all the panels I’ve saved of “Peter flirting with men or otherwise indicating he’d be dtf”, so fuck it, I’m going to stick them all on this post as I rediscover them.

[dailycryptodrawings]

744: Chickcharney

The precious fluffmaster supreme!

Requested by: mountaincalledmnky

Bahamian Folklore!

[legend-collection]

Jumbee

A jumbee, jumbie, mendo or chongo in Colombia and Venezuela is a type of mythological spirit or demon in the folklore of some Caribbean countries. Jumbee is the generic name given to all malevolent entities. There are numerous kinds of jumbees, reflecting the Caribbean’s complex history and ethnic makeup, drawing on African, Amerindian, East Indian, Dutch, English, and even Chinese mythology.

Different cultures have different concepts of jumbees, but the general idea is that people who have been evil are destined to become instruments of evil (jumbee) in death. Unlike the ghost folklore which represents a wispy fog-like creature, the jumbee casts a dark shadowy figure.

People in English-speaking Caribbean states that were colonized by the British commonly believe in this creature. The belief is also held by practitioners of Obeah, a form of mystical wizardry that encompasses traditional African beliefs and Western European, primarily Anglican, images and beliefs concerning the dead. Guyana, and various islands—including Antigua and Barbuda in the east, The Bahamas in the north and as far south as Trinidad—have long held a tradition of folklore that includes the jumbee.

In the French islands Guadeloupe and Martinique, people speak of Zombi rather than Jumbie to describe ghosts, revenants and other supernatural creatures. The Étang Zombi in Guadeloupe owes its name to the legend of the wife of a slaver who was killed by her husband for trying to free his slaves and now haunts the pond.

The people of the Congo speak of what they believe to be a Nfumbi—ancestral ghost—which could be related to the word Jumbie. Trinidad and Tobago

A Moko jumbie is a protecting spirit in Trinidad and Tobago.

The Bahamas

As Elsie Worthington Clews Parsons captured in an 1918 transcription of an old Bahamian story, the jumbee in Jamaica is often called a "sprit": "Dese sprits which you call witch people, dey lives in de air."

Jamaica and Barbados

In Jamaica and Barbados, a jumbee is called a duppy.

Montserrat

In the folk religion of Montserrat, a jumbie is a ghost, or spirit of the dead. Jumbies are said to possess people during ceremonies called jumbie dances, which are accompanied by jumbie drums. Four couples perform a set of five progressively quicker quadrilles during the jumbie dance, switching out with other couples until someone is eventually possessed by a jumbie.

Jumbies receive numerous small offerings from Montserratians, such as a few drops of rum or food. They are also the subject of numerous superstitions. It is believed that the spirit separates from the body three days after death, at which point the havoc begins. Jumbies are believed to have the ability to shape-shift, usually taking the form of a dog, pig, or more likely, a cat.

There are many recommended ways to avoid or escape jumbie encounters:[citation needed]If a pair of shoes is left outside the front door of a house, jumbies (who have either no feet at all, or backwards feet) will spend the entire night trying and failing to put on the shoes, rather than entering the house. Jumbies are similarly distracted by a heap of sand or salt or rice outside a door, since their obsessive curiosity (particularly in the case of the Firerass, or ole Higue) compels them to count every grain before the sun rises. Likewise, a rope with many knots in it will keep a jumbie busy trying to undo them until sunrise. Upon coming home late at night, walking backwards may prevent a jumbee from following one inside. If a jumbee chases a person, crossing a river may stop them; since it is believed that jumbees, like their relatives in numerous cultures, cannot follow over water.

[preethecaribbean]

There’s more! The counterpart of Brer Rabbit in African-American folklore is B’ Rabby, a cunning hero-trickster character in Bahamian folk narratives.

Listening to Virginia Hamilton’s, The People Could Fly: Black American Folktales. So many of the stories are about a clever rabbit outsmarting other animals or humans. Me realizing that Bugs Bunny is based off these stories. Because so many old cartoons are loosely based off of minstrel characters (i.e. Mickey Mouse is black all over with white gloves) and old stories they heard growing up. It’ll never be confirmed but come on!!!

[briefbestiary]

An owl-like species of creatures capable of changing the course of a person's fate.

[iloveethnicities]

Feasting and communal meals are integral to Afro-Bahamian religious and cultural practices, reflecting the deep interconnection between spirituality, community, and sustenance. These gatherings often transcend the act of eating, serving as sacred moments of fellowship, ritualistic devotion, and cultural continuity. The tradition draws from African ancestral practices, where food and communal sharing symbolize unity, respect for the divine, and a way of honoring the spirits of ancestors.

In Afro-Bahamian religious contexts, such as Obeah, Junkanoo-related ceremonies, and syncretic Christian traditions, feasting is not merely a social event. It frequently marks a spiritual occasion such as a birth, death, healing ritual, or a religious festival. The preparation and sharing of food can be seen as a form of offering to deities, spirits, or ancestors. Specific dishes are often prepared with spiritual intent, incorporating elements believed to attract blessings, protection, or favor.

For example, certain foods might be imbued with spiritual power through prayer or rituals before being shared. The act of eating together is often accompanied by singing, drumming, and storytelling, enhancing the spiritual ambiance. The communal meal becomes a sacred space for the transmission of oral traditions, collective worship, and spiritual rejuvenation.

Types of Foods

The foods served during these gatherings are steeped in symbolic meaning and are typically influenced by African culinary traditions, local ingredients, and colonial history. Staples include rice, peas, fish, cassava, plantains, and various root vegetables. Dishes like pigeon peas and rice, conch salad, and fried fish often take center stage. Additionally, specific herbs and spices might be included for their purported spiritual or medicinal properties.

Traditional beverages, such as bush teas made from local plants, may also feature prominently. These drinks are sometimes believed to have protective or purifying qualities, particularly when consumed during spiritual ceremonies.

Role in Mourning and Ancestor Worship

In Afro-Bahamian mourning practices, communal meals are essential components of wakes and other post-funeral rituals. These meals serve dual purposes: comforting the grieving family and honoring the deceased. Special foods might be prepared to reflect the tastes or cultural identity of the departed, and portions are sometimes symbolically set aside for the ancestors or spirits.

These events often include prayers and libations, where drinks or portions of food are poured out as offerings to the spirits. The shared meal thus becomes a bridge between the living and the dead, reinforcing communal bonds and the continuity of the spiritual lineage.

During festivals like Junkanoo, feasting takes on a celebratory character. Massive spreads of traditional dishes are prepared, and eating together becomes a way of celebrating cultural identity and resilience. These meals are often accompanied by music, dance, and vibrant storytelling, reflecting the joyful and communal spirit of the occasion.

In healing rituals, communal meals might feature foods prepared according to specific spiritual instructions. For instance, participants may fast or abstain from certain foods before the ritual and then break the fast together with a specially prepared meal. The act of eating together reinforces communal support and symbolizes the restoration of balance and harmony within the individual and the group.

Cultural and Social Dimensions

Beyond their spiritual importance, feasting and communal meals in Afro-Bahamian religious practices function as social equalizers. They create spaces where community members of all ages and social standings can come together as equals. The preparation of these meals often involves collective effort, further fostering unity and cooperation.

Feasting and communal meals in Afro-Bahamian religious traditions are deeply symbolic acts that blend spiritual, cultural, and social elements. They provide a platform for honoring ancestors, expressing gratitude to the divine, fostering communal ties, and celebrating shared heritage. These gatherings continue to serve as a vital expression of Afro-Bahamian identity and spirituality, ensuring that the traditions of the past are preserved and passed down through generations.

[mecthology]

Robert the doll.

The doll originally belonged to Robert Eugene Otto, an artist described as “eccentric,” who belonged to a prominent Key West family. The doll was reportedly manufactured by the Steiff Company of Germany, purchased by Otto’s grandfather while on a trip to Germany in 1904, and given to young Otto as a birthday gift. The doll’s sailor suit was likely an outfit that Otto wore as a child.

According to legend, the doll has supernatural abilities that allow it to move, change its facial expressions, and make giggling sounds. Some versions of the legend claim that a young girl of “Bahamian descent” gave Otto the doll as a gift or as “retaliation for a wrongdoing”. Other stories claim that the doll moved voodoo figurines around the room, and was “aware of what went on around him”. Others claim that the doll “vanished” after Otto’s house changed ownership a number of times after his death, or that young Otto triggered the doll’s supernatural powers by blaming his childhood mishaps on the doll. According to local folklore, the doll has caused “car accidents, broken bones, job loss, divorce and a cornucopia of other misfortunes”, and museum visitors supposedly experience “post-visit misfortunes” for “failing to respect Robert”.

The first hint that something out of the ordinary was happening was one night when Otto, who was only ten years old, awoke to find Robert the Doll sitting at the end of his bed staring at him. Moments later his mother was awakened by his screams for help and the sounds of furniture being overturned in her son’s bedroom. Otto cried for help, begging his mother to rescue him. When she finally was able to wrench the locked door open, she saw poor Otto curled up in fear on his bed, his room in shambles and Robert The Doll sitting at the foot of the bed.

Otto’s parents would often hear their son upstairs talking to the doll and getting a response back in a totally different voice. They reported seeing the doll speak and witnessing his expression change. Giggling and sightings of Robert running up the steps or staring out the upstairs window were also reported.

Follow @mecthology for more scary facts and myths. DM for pic credit. https://www.instagram.com/p/CWLRexZpiBc/?utm_medium=tumblr

[octahedral-chaos]

Random Chickcharney character I made!

I used a LOT of references for this lad. Also loosely based off of the Lesser Sooty owl. So context for how this oc came about is actually kind of funny. Basically I’ve wondered if there are any games that are similar to Kid Icarus Uprising that was recently released, and my brain when to “Open-world game that’s like Kid Icarus Uprising except with obscure mythical creatures.” I then went “Flying Chickcharney as protagonist” so this guy was created. I’m not too sure if that game idea will ever see the light of day, but I’m attached to this guy’s design alright.

Bonus UV versions and more info about Raziel (Got a name for him!)

Basically, chickcharneys are a creature from Bahamian folklore. They’re described as three feet tall owl-like creatures with three digited limbs, arms hidden under wings/ instead of wings, commonly have prehensile tails and red eyes. They will give people who treat it kindly good luck, while those who treat it poorly will get bad luck for the rest of their lives, or get their heads turned around.

So in the game idea version of them. There are two variants; those that can fly and those that can’t fly. So most Chickcharney settlements have hanging bridges and such connecting houses and such. (Think like large towers with separate “rooms” that are basically houses with lots of suspension bridges.)

They are around 2.5 to 3 feet tall on average. Of course, there are exceptions

Unlike IRL owls, they can see UV light. Their eyeballs are also spherical instead of elongated, so they aren’t nearly as good as seeing in the dark as true owls.

Colours can range from bright reddish-brown, to dark blue-grey, to extremely pale grey and even light yellow. Marking can be lighter or darker versions of the main colour they are. UV light-visible marking can be any colour of pink, purple or pinkish-red. Eyes are any shade of red or orange (most common) or brown or black.

Like in the legends, they are mostly covered in “fur”, which are actually protofeathers. Their wings and tails have fully formed flight and tail feathers respectively.

Uses their prehensile tail to grab stuff (obviously), communicate and as a close ranged weapon that’s also not very effective.

They can both talk and make owl noises. Basically they can scare people, especially if said person doesn’t know that they’re there.

Near silent flight. They also use this to prank people.

As the two above points suggest, they can be mischievous.

Hands are similar to dromeosaur hands, just with a thumb. (and without any primary, secondary or tertiary feathers)

Feel free to offer suggestions and such!

[stereostevie]

‘Exuma’ at 50: How a Bahamian Artist Channeled Island Culture Into a Strange Sonic Ritual by Brenna Ehrlich

The performer known as Exuma channeled his Bahamian heritage into a captivating 1970 debut. Fans and participants look back.

Chances are, you’ve never heard a boast track quite like “Exuma, the Obeah Man,” the opening song off Exuma’s self-titled 1970 album.

A wolf howls, frogs count off a ramshackle symphony, bells jingle, drums palpitate, a zombie exhales, all by way of introducing the one-of-a-kind Bahamian performer, born Tony Mackey: “I came down on a lightning bolt/Nine months in my mama’s belly,” he proclaims. “When I was born, the midwife/Screamed and shout/I had fire and brimstone/Coming out of my mouth/I’m Exuma, the Obeah Man.”

“[Obeah] was with my grandfather, with my father, with my mother, with my uncles who taught me,” Mackey said in a 1970 interview, referring to the spiritual practice he grew up with in the Bahamas. “It has been my religion in the vein that everyone has grown up with some sort of religion, a cult that was taught. Christianity is like good and evil. God is both. He unlocked the secrets to Moses, good and evil, so Moses could help the children of Israel. It’s the same thing, the whole completeness — the Obeah Man, spirits of air.”

The music world is hardly devoid of gimmicks, alter egos, and adopted personas. But Mackey’s Exuma moniker, borrowed from the name of an island district in the Bahamas, was never just that — he lived and breathed his culture, channeling it into a debut album so singularly weird, wonderful, and enchanted that it’s not surprising it’s remembered only by the most industrious of crate-diggers. A cuddly Dr. John dabbling in voodoo Mackey was not; Exuma is a parade, a séance, a condemnation of racist evils.

“The eccentricity of [Dr. John’s 1968 debut] Gris-Gris is, like, ‘Let’s roll a fat joint,'” says Okkervil River frontman and devout Exuma fan Will Sheff. “The eccentricity of Exuma is more like PCP.” Sheff became hip to Exuma when his former bandmate Jonathan Meiburg (singer-guitarist of Shearwater) happened to hear “Obeah Woman,” Nina Simone’s 1974 spin on “Obeah Man.” Sheff was entranced by Exuma’s debut, especially the sincerity of its lyrics and Mackey’s whole-hearted earnestness. “There’s something about when somebody is very devoutly religious, where you trust them not to sell you something,” he tells Rolling Stone. “I mean, they may be trying to sell you their religious beliefs, but their religious beliefs are so vitally important to them that they kind of stop trying to sell themselves.”

“He was unique. He was good,” says Quint Davis, producer of the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, where Exuma became a mainstay later in his career. “He was like a voodoo Richie Havens or something.”

Macfarlane Gregory Anthony Mackey grew up in Nassau, Bahamas, steeped in both Bahamian history and American culture. Each Boxing Day, he witnessed Junkanoo parades — a tradition dating back hundreds of years and commemorating days when slaves finally had time off — replete with music, masks, and folklore. At the movies, accessed with pocket money earned from selling fish on weekends, he saw performances by Sam Cooke and Fats Domino.

“Saying the word ‘Junkanoo’ to most Bahamians gets their hearts beating faster and their breathing gets shorter and faster,” Langston Longley, leader of Bahamas Junkanoo Revue, has said. “It’s hard to express in words because it’s a feeling, a spirit that’s evoked within from the sound of a goatskin drum, a cowbell, or a bugle.”

“I grew up a roots person, someone knowing about the bush and the herbs and the spiritual realm,” Mackey told Wavelength in 1981 of his life back home. “It was inbred into all of us. Just like for people growing up in the lowlands of Delta Country or places like Africa.”

In 1961, when he was 17, Mackey moved to New York’s Greenwich Village to become an architect, according to a 1970 interview, but he abandoned that dream when he ran out of money. He then acquired a junked-up guitar on which he practiced Bahamian calypsos and penned songs about his home. “I started playing around when Bob Dylan, Richie Havens, Peter, Paul, and Mary, Richard Pryor, Hendrix, and Streisand were all down there, too, hanging out and performing at the Cafe Bizarre,” Mackey recalled in 1994. “I’d been singing down there, and we’d all been exchanging ideas and stuff. Then one time a producer came up to me and said he was very interested in recording some of my original songs, but he said that I needed a vehicle. I remembered the Obeah Man from my childhood — he’s the one with the colorful robes who would deal with the elements and the moonrise, the clouds, and the vibrations of the earth. So, I decided to call myself Exuma, the Obeah Man.”

Mackey’s manager, Bob Wyld, helped him form a band to record his debut album, including Wyld’s client Peppy Castro of the Blues Magoos. “It was like acting. Like, ‘OK, I’ll take a little alias, I’ll be Spy Boy,’ and all this kind of stuff,” Castro tells Rolling Stone. All the members of Mackey’s band adopted stage names, which wasn’t that strange to Castro, who originated the role of Berger in the Broadway show Hair.

“Then I met Tony and then I got into the folklore and I started to see what he was about — this history of coming from the [Bahamas],” he adds. “It was great. It was inventive. We would do a little Junkanoo parade from out of the dressing room, right up to the stage. It was about the show of it all. Coming from somebody who wanted to learn music in a more traditional form, that was kind of cool.”

The band recorded Exuma at Bob Liftin’s Regent Sound Studios in New York City — where the Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, and Elton John also laid down tracks — giving the bizarre record a slick sheen. Mackey once said that the music came to him in a dream, and he set the mood in the studio accordingly. “It was so free form. We turned the lights out, we’d put up candles, he’d get on a mic and he’d just start going off and singing crazy stuff and we followed it,” Castro says. “You would go into trances. In those days, I was a little hippie, so yeah, we’d be smoking weed there and getting high. It became a séance almost. It was like, ‘We’re going into this mode and we’re going to see where it takes us.’”

“There were no boundaries with Tony,” he adds. “It was free for him. It’s kind of like what people felt like when they played with Chuck Berry. If you talk to any of the musicians who played with Chuck Berry, you just had to be on your toes because he would change keys in the middle of the song. But there was also the spiritual stuff, you know, just the crazy voodoo-ish stuff. It was just so free for him.”

Everyone Rolling Stone talked with for this story compared Mackey to Richie Havens, but the similarities only really extend to, perhaps, Havens’ role in the Greenwich Village scene and the rich quality of his voice. “You can put on Dr. John and Richie Havens and water the plants. It’s good background music,” Will Sheff says. “But if [Exuma’s] ‘Séance in the Sixth Fret’ comes on shuffle, you’re going to skip it. It’s active listening; it sends a chill down your spine.”

Exuma is a kind of aural movie — fitting, as Mackey went on to write plays — that starts off boastful and proud with “Obeah Man” then descends into darker territory. The second track, “Dambala,” is a melodic damnation of slave owners: “You slavers will know/What it’s like to be a slave,” Mackey wails, “You’ll remain in your graves/With the stench and the smell.”

“It reminds me of Jordan Peele movies — movies that deal with sort of the black experience, a collective trauma,” Sheff says of the song. “He’s cursing a slaver and there’s something so intensely powerful about that.”

Then there’s zombie ode “Mama Loi, Papa Loi,” a frankly terrifying story of men rising from the dead, featuring guttural yelps and groans. “Jingo, Jingo he ain’t dead/He can see from the back of his head,” Mackey sings. That leads into the comparatively peppy “Junkanoo,” an instrumental that recalls the parades of the musician’s youth. Things get dark again with “Séance in the Sixth Fret,” which is just that — a yearning ritual in which the band calls to a litany of spirits. “Hand on quill/Hand on pencil/Hand on pen/Tell me spirit/Tell me when,” Mackey intones. The more accessible “You Don’t Know What’s Going On,” follows, leading into epic prophecy “The Vision,” which foretells the end of the world: “And all the dead walking throughout the land/Whispering, Whispering, it was judgment day.”

The strange, gorgeous record was released on Mercury Records, and at the time, the label had high hopes for its success, as it was apparently getting solid radio play. “The reaction is that of a heavy, big-numbers contemporary album,” Mercury exec Lou Simon said at the time. “As a result, we’re going to give it all the merchandising support we can muster.” But the album apparently failed to break through, and Mackey left Mercury in 1971 after releasing Exuma II. His legacy lived on in the corners of popular culture: Nina Simone covered “Dambala” as well as “Obeah Man,” with both tracks appearing on It Is Finished, a 1974 LP that failed to take off. Mackey himself went on to drop still more albums but mostly operated in a quiet kind of obscurity.

“What he didn’t have was the commercial base, you know, the formula,” Castro says by way of explanation. “Let’s face it, the music business is very fickle and it boxes you in. And if you’re going to join that world, it’s in your best interest to commercialize yourself and to come up with a formula that works. He didn’t have that formula.”

Mackey did find a home, though, at the newly minted New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival in 1978, an atmosphere that seemed more in keeping with his spiritual aesthetic than mainstream radio. “New Orleans is the most receptive place in the world to the artist, this music spirit that flies around in the air all the time waiting to be reborn and reborn,” he told Wavelength in 1981.

“He was a Caribbean Dr. John, so to speak,” festival producer Davis says. “When I heard [his album], I said, ‘Well, that’s us.’ This guy with feathers on his head, his big hat. Everybody loved him and he became part of the festival family.”

“I think he was the first Caribbean act that we had,” Davis adds. “I hesitate to say that he was a trailblazer because there weren’t a lot of people following in his footsteps.”

[tagqcomic]

EDIT: I thought there was a contest for shark-oriented artwork that was running until the 27th; said contest was the reason I drew this picture and I decided to fix it up all purty-like to make it a better advertisement TAGQComic.com.  While there was a contest for sharks, it ended on the 25th, which means I didn't get this done in time...While I can't drag more people over to our fanbase kicking and screaming, it was the plan all along to release the finalized version of Stefan vs The Lusca today, since I spent all the time I could have spent drawing a new picture working on the details...So, here you go!  More colors, bigger and hopefully better in some other ways that I don't know of.</EDIT> The shark we call Jaws has been terrorizing the depths of our imaginations for 75 years but the Lusca has made itself the horror of Bahamian legends and folklore for centuries. The Lusca is a terrible creature, half-shark and half-octopus, that creates whirlpools and destroys ships...And right now, it wants to add Stefan's demise to its story. FIND THE COMIC ON TAGQCOMIC.COM AND WEBTOONS.COM, SEARCH "INTERCARDINAL"