• Visit date: April 5 2019
• The visited post office: Rock Sound Post Office in Eleuthera, Bahama
• Cost of sending mail: 0,50 Bahama dollar (0,50 Usd)
• Postcard availability: Gift shops
• Postcard delivery time: fastest _15 days to Austria

A Brief History of the Bahamas Post

Long before the Bahamas became a destination for cruise ships and pastel-colored postcards, the islands had already secured their place in postal history. The first post office was established in Nassau in 1733 during British colonial rule. By the 1840s, regular mail routes were being handled by the Royal Mail Line, and by 1846, the use of “Crown Paid” handstamps became standard on outgoing mail. Mail boats still operate today, continuing to connect the islands by sea much as they did nearly two centuries ago.

In April 1858, British stamps were briefly introduced in Nassau, but soon after, on 10 June 1859, the Bahamas issued its first official postage stamp, featuring a portrait of Queen Victoria.

One lesser-known fact stands out: on 16 August 1939, the Bahamas became home to the world’s first undersea post office. Located off the coast of New Providence and housed inside the Williamson Photosphere, it operated under the official postmark “Sea Floor, Nassau, Bahamas” until 25 June 1942. Among its earliest letters were two historic covers sent to King George VI and President Roosevelt.

References: Wikipedia, Bahama Museum Bahama Post, undersea Post office, Mailboats

Our visit to Eleuthera, Bahamas

The Bahamas is made up of around 700 islands and over 2,000 cays, though only about 30 are inhabited. The capital, Nassau, is located on New Providence Island and serves as the bustling heart of tourism and commerce. We visited the country with a Finnish tour group and stayed only two nights: one in the capital, Nassau and the other on a much quieter island—Eleuthera

While Nassau was full of cruise ships and souvenir shops, Eleuthera offered a completely different rhythm. Known for its pink sand beaches and slender shape—180 kilometers long and in places barely 1.5 kilometers wide—this island felt like a place where time didn’t really matter. At one famous point, the Glass Window Bridge, you can even see the Atlantic Ocean on one side and the Caribbean Sea on the other, just meters apart. We stayed near the southern tip, where mostly sailboats anchored, and the nearest post office was firmly closed.

After several days of travel, a slow and peaceful afternoon sounded like a dream. My body agreed a little too literally—it decided to spike a fever. Despite the postcard-perfect weather, I wasn’t in the mood for snorkeling or post office hunting. And since our room was somehow hotter than the outside air, I grabbed a bike and rode slowly down to the beach, crawled under a palm tree, and spent most of the day sleeping.

At some point, half-awake, I opened my eyes and looked up. Around 12:50 PM, the midday sun was surrounded by not just one, but two perfect circles of light.

Later I learned they were called halos—formed by sunlight passing through ice crystals high in the atmosphere. A rare double halo like that, shimmering over Eleuthera, felt oddly reassuring. It was like a cosmic reminder to just stop and breathe.

Meanwhile, Andry once again saved the day—and unknowingly, this blog post.

We had tried to rent a car both at the airport and later at the hotel. No luck. “Can we rent something anywhere?” we asked. Our host nodded confidently: “Sure, I can take you tomorrow.” But we had a morning flight. “No rush,” he added with a smile. “This is that kind of island.”

So, I kept resting. Andry, on the other hand, headed to the only main road and started hitchhiking. Less than ten minutes later, a pickup truck pulled over. Traffic was rare, the sun was high, and the only space available was in the open cargo bed—so in he went.

From the back, he could glance through the rear window and saw the speedometer climb over 100 km/h, even on those narrow, winding island roads. When they reached the crossroads leading toward Rock Sound, Andry jumped out.

The next ride took him all the way to the Rock Sound District Post Office. The pink building, constructed in 1964, was still fully operational in April 2019, with postcards hand-stamped at the counter and friendly staff who offered advice on taxis, rental cars, or unofficial rides. But none of those options were actually available—not a taxi, not a rental, not even a local offering to drive.

At the post office, they helpfully suggested he spend the night in Rock Sound and wait for his group to pass through the next day. But without any means of contacting us—no phone signal, no internet—that plan seemed too uncertain. And although we were indeed scheduled to pass through that same village the next morning en route to the airport, waiting alone overnight just didn’t feel like an option for him.

So, twenty minutes by the roadside again. Then a car pulled over, reggae music blaring, the cabin filled with thick smoke and unmistakable Caribbean vibes. Andry climbed into the back. The journey to me began.

Twelve kilometers closer. Then more waiting. Then two more rides. Around 8 PM, he was finally back, declaring triumphantly that all postcards had been safely sent. I was still out of it, half-conscious and mostly asleep, so I just mumbled something and went back to bed.

By morning, I felt fine again. We rejoined our group on the bus ride to the airport. As we drove, Andry pointed out all his stops from the day before, like a personal postcard tour. It still felt like a fever dream.

So yes, the postcards were sent—but Eleuthera’s surreal blue waters and limestone caves will have to wait for another visit.

Until the next post office.

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