BY GREG TASKER Special to the Herald

BALFOUR TOWN, Salt Cay -- The salt is gone from Balfour Town. Once, barefoot men and women in straw hats bent forward in monotonous drudgery, raked salt crystals into small piles. They did so without a sliver of sympathy from the blazing Caribbean sun or the balmy breeze blowing constant across this tiny, triangular island in the Turks & Caicos.

So strong is the sense of history on Salt Cay that it's not difficult for the mind's eye to glimpse images of the island's past. Bicycling along a deserted, dusty road on the way to Balfour Town, I came upon the heart of the once-flourishing salt industry: a network of shallow ponds framed by low stone walls. These are the salinas, the drying pools from which salt was extracted from seawater over the centuries.

Remnants of the past are everywhere. Dilapidated windmills, which controlled the water flow to these "drying pans, " stand like ghostly sentinels, guarding a forgotten fortress. Beyond the salt ponds lie the crumbled stone ruins of homesteads and plantations.

That's not to say there's no life on Salt Cay. The island is home to about 60 people, many of them descendants of salt rakers. Except for a few tourists and divers, the world, it seems, has forgotten Salt Cay.

"It's the Caribbean of yesterday, " Porter Williams, a retired American salesman and owner of the Island Thyme Bistro, explained while I sipped on a concoction of rum and juices called a Salt Cay Cooler. "If somebody wants to imagine what Salt Cay is like, think of the Bahamas 50 years ago. We have donkeys roaming loose, cows and chickens in the roads. You come here and you're folded into the local culture. There aren't too many places like that anymore."

SALT OF THE EARTH

The salt industry vanished from Salt Cay three decades ago. But for about three centuries, salt was the island's lifeblood, supporting the households of several hundred people and supplying the American and Canadian fishing fleets with salt to down their catches. George Washington used salt from these islands to preserve food for his army during the American Revolution.

As I quickly learned during an afternoon exploring the island, almost everyone here remembers the salt industry. "There were heaps of salt everywhere, " recalled Antoinette "Nettie" Talbo, who runs the island's only grocery, a small store stocked with bananas, pineapple, canned goods, paper towels and toilet paper. "Sometimes there were two or three ships in the harbor and lots of salt piles. It was a much busier place. Life on Salt Cay in those days was good. Now, it's quiet."

There are few cars and pick-up trucks on Salt Cay. Everyone gets around by bicycle, golf cart, boat or foot.

There are few children -- most of them attend school during the week on Grand Turk. Like Talbo, many islanders are in their 60s, 70s and 80s, living in the homes of their ancestors. It's like a retirement community without tidy double-wide trailers, swimming pools, golf courses or tennis courts.

Donkeys and cows roam the unpaved roads. They have the right of way.

"You live here, it's very peaceful, " said Talbo, whose father and husband were sailors and whose seven children have scattered to other islands and the states. "You can go anywhere on the island and not have anything to worry about."

History, of course, is only part of the appeal of Salt Cay. I had envisioned leisurely days swimming, snorkeling, and relaxing -- days without an agenda. And that's exactly what I found at Windmills Plantation, a whimsical seaside resort amid 15 acres on North Beach. It's a colorful oasis on a flat, arid island -- roofs and shutters painted in bright red, yellow and blue -- and the only man-made intrusion on a 2.5-mile stretch of pristine beach.

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