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Published: Monday, Feb. 13, 2012 / Updated: Friday, Feb. 10, 2012 04:36 PM

Brad Harvey: Is it really better in the Bahamas?

As most did, I spent this Feb. 5 glued to the television for every second of the Super Bowl. Up until the last five of these games, I was fortunate enough to make it to a handful of them in a row, including what is, arguably, the greatest Super Bowl ever played.

That was the year the Carolina Panthers lost in the final seconds.

After witnessing firsthand this spectacle of opulence and overindulgence, I have to say watching it at home just isn’t much fun anymore. These days, I find myself paying more attention to the commercials.

One of them this year made me slide to the edge of my seat and pay attention. This particular ad aired right at the end of the second quarter, promoted Chrysler and featured Hollywood’s Dirty Harry himself, Clint Eastwood. Just hearing his raspy voice gives me chills.

In the spot, Eastwood gave what amounted to a pep talk similar to what one would expect the Patriots’ Bill Belichick and the Giants’ Tom Coughlin were giving their teams at that very moment.

“It’s halftime,” Clint said as he was shown walking through a dark and dingy city street in a manner that only a man as tough as those he has portrayed would dare to do.

Then came images of the once proud now downtrodden city of Detroit panning across our screens with a few flashes of shiny new Chryslers quickly tossed in there just so you’d know what he was really hawking.

“Both teams are in their locker rooms discussing what they can do to win this game in the second half,” he said. “It’s halftime in America, too. People are out of work and they’re hurting. And they’re all wondering what they’re gonna do to make a comeback.”

As the commercial carried on, the actor’s voice grew more and more defiant, even to the point of sounding optimistic while proclaiming we’ve seen bad times before but we “… rallied around what was right. We all acted as one, (dramatic pause) because that’s what we do. We find a way through tough times and if we can’t find a way then we make one.”

By this point, I was ready to jump off the couch, scream some battle cry at the top of my lungs and go running down our road, waving flags and rallying the troops, errr… neighbors.

It wasn’t until later on Monday I found myself contemplating the whole message of that piece as I drove home. That’s when the realization of what that commercial really meant hit me.

We sure have become a whiny bunch.

I mean, seriously, does it really take old Clint to get us stirring?

By now you’re surely wondering what this rant could possibly have to do with the outdoors. You see, it’s my love of the outdoors that taught me an important lesson that relates to all of this. Just let me tell you about my old pal Tommy.

Before I moved back to Clover in the spring of ’06, I spent a lot of time in the Bahamas while taking groups of anglers fishing and even filming fishing shows for TV.

Most folks think of resorts, big money casinos and beautiful sandy beaches when they hear of the Bahamas, but that’s not the real thing. You have to head for the “out islands” to see that.

Tommy Rolle lives on Andros Island, the largest yet least flashy of them all. No fast-food. No grocery stores. No jobs. Not even a single convenience store. The San Andros International Airport might sound like a big deal, but it’s just a simple runway with a small cinderblock building at the end.

Down there, if you’re going to make it, you’re going to make your own way.

Tommy drives a Chrysler made during the early 1990s. It cost him as much as a new one when it was 10 years old. Whenever I go for a visit, he drives it to the airport and leaves the keys in the ignition for me to drive back when my plane lands.

Aviation service, like most everything else, is unpredictable in the islands so there’s no point in him sitting around all day waiting for me. He just starts the 10-mile trip back to his place on foot, knowing somebody will pass at some point and pick him up. He doesn’t have to worry about anyone stealing his prized automobile because, if they did, where would they take it?

When I’m there, I pay careful attention not to get hurt. In emergencies, there is a clinic but the doctor only flies over from Nassau on Wednesdays to see patients.

Most every meal the inhabitants of the island (around 1,000) eat consists of food they’ve grown, caught or killed. The majority of the year their diet is, naturally, full of fresh seafood they catch. They sure look forward to the opening of their dove season. Any type of fowl is a delicacy to them, and you can forget beef. Cows might as well be elephants as neither can be found there.

These folks generally make what money they get by guiding bone fishermen from the states, but August brings the opening of lobster season when any able bodied man becomes a lobsterman for a few weeks. They don’t trap them like folks do in the Northeast. These guys hold their breath and dive for them at depths as deep as 40 feet.

Lobstering is almost like a bonus for them as it allows them to put a few thousand Bahamian dollars in their hand in a hurry. They don’t get to enjoy it for long though since things like gas and milk must be shipped in, costing three to four times what we’re used to paying by the gallon.

Needless to say, it’s a hard life. The most amazing part of it is they don’t complain. They greet every sunrise with a smile, and thank God for the opportunity to wake up and do it all over again. They know to make it they have to pull themselves up in the mornings and rely on their outdoors skills and abilities to get by.

And, for the record, they don’t need Dirty Harry to offer them a “pick-me-up” to make it possible. That’s why I think we could all learn a thing or two from Tommy.

Brad Harvey is a freelance writer in Clover. Visit his website at bradharveyoutdoors.com or email brad@bradharveyoutdoors.com.