By ERIC CAREY

The Bahamas has always lived with a delicate tension: how to balance economic growth with environmental protection. Again and again, our country finds itself locked in disputes over large-scale development projects that promise jobs and revenue, but at the cost of destroying the very natural resources that sustain our economy and way of life.

The latest controversy—the Yntegra proposal to brand a resort on Sampson Cay under Rosewood Hotels—is a case in point. With its unprecedented dredging, oversized marinas, and a massive seawall cutting through tidal flows and changing the entire hydrology and ecology of a pristine cut and bay, it represents the largest and most destructive development ever attempted in the Exuma Cays.

The pattern of conflict

The script is familiar. Developers arrive with glossy presentations, promising “world-class” resorts and hundreds of jobs. Government officials, under pressure to deliver quick wins, welcome the investment. Environmentalists, community members, and independent scientists raise alarms. Public consultation is held, often perfunctory, and approvals are granted.

What follows is damage that cannot be undone. Mangroves cleared, seagrass meadows dredged, coral reefs smothered in sediment. The developers collect their profits, but Bahamians are left with the costs—depleted fisheries, weakened storm defenses, eroded coastlines, and a tarnished reputation as a destination of natural beauty.

Why this case matters

The Rosewood brand already exists in The Bahamas, anchored at Baha Mar in Nassau, where it is appropriately located: on New Providence, with existing infrastructure, urban services, available workforce and space to accommodate its scale. There, a luxury resort fits the context.

But to take that same model and drop it onto a tiny, fragile cay in the Exumas is something entirely different. Sampson Cay is just 124 acres, ringed with turtlegrass meadows, wetlands, and tidal cuts. It cannot absorb a project of this magnitude without irreversible ecological damage.

The project would require:

Two marinas with 42 slips, nearly half the combined slips across Staniel Cay, Compass Cay, Norman’s Cay, and Highbourne Cay.

88 subdivided Crown Land lots, strongly suggesting speculative land sales.

Housing up to 502 people on-island (150 workers + 352 guests), almost doubling the combined populations of nearby Staniel Cay, Black Point, and Little Farmer’s Cay, all larger than Sampson Cay.

Generating 2.8 tons of garbage, 103,000 gallons of sewage, and 104,658 gallons of potable water consumption daily.

Add to this a 390-foot long, 40-foot wide seawall, introduced late in the process, cutting through a tidal channel with currents of nearly three knots. No serious analysis has been done of how this will alter North Bay’s tidal exchange or damage seagrass beds.

This is not just out of scale—it is reckless.

Undermining sustainable investment

This is not just a debate of “environment versus jobs”. Yntegra’s plans would directly undermine existing investment in the North Bay area. The proposed seawall, dredging, and commercial dock would destroy the very front door to Turtlegrass Resort and Island Club, shutting down a project that has already proven itself to be both sustainable and economically beneficial.

Turtlegrass is currently one of the two largest employers in the central Exumas, and would already be the largest if not forced to hold back growth because of the uncertainty created by Yntegra’s ever-changing plans. Unlike Yntegra, Turtlegrass has invested in infrastructure that is both expandable and sustainable — from a $1m roll-on, roll-off deep water supply dock created without any dredging, to a 1.2MW solar system to power 100 percent of the anticipated resort needs, to substantial water production capacity for supporting landscaping and on-island farming — clear evidence of a growth trajectory that aligns with the kind of future The Bahamas needs, one that is compatible with the environment rather than overwhelming it.

The real distinction is between sensible, sustainable development that grows steadily from solid foundations and a soft footprint, versus flashy, over-inflated projects that overpromise, overbuild, and ultimately damage the very resources on which they depend.

And crucially, Yntegra does not even need the North Bay commercial dock or the massive dredging that would come with it. They already have two deep-water marinas on the south side of the island, more than capable of handling supply and service needs. This is destruction without necessity. Furthermore, it puts lives at risk by creating a route for its supply ships and barges that takes them right through the area where visitors and locals swim, snorkel, explore coral reefs and enjoy the waters.

Yet government agencies have repeatedly ignored letters and requests to be heard from Turtlegrass, environmentalists and the local Exuma community. By overlooking an established, responsible investment that creates jobs without destroying ecosystems, while fast-tracking Yntegra’s destructive project, our decision-makers are sending a dangerous message: reckless promises will be rewarded, while sustainable development is sidelined.

DEPP: Missing the mark

The Department of Environmental Planning and Protection (DEPP) was created to ensure that development in The Bahamas is sensible, responsible, and in harmony with our sense of place. Exumians were depending on DEPP to stand firm and uphold those values.

Unfortunately, in approving this project, DEPP has missed the mark badly. Allowing such a high-density, destructive proposal in the fragile Exuma Cays goes directly against DEPP’s mandate. This was the moment to say no—and instead, DEPP has gotten it completely wrong.

Land use plans: A missed safeguard

Parliament legislated the Planning and Subdivision Act (2010) to provide The Bahamas with Land Use Plans for every island. These plans were designed to prescribe where high-density development could occur (such as New Providence and Grand Bahama, with existing infrastructure) and where only low-impact projects would be appropriate (such as the Exuma Cays).

But more than a decade later, those plans remain largely unimplemented. Exuma has no land use plan in force, leaving fragile cays exposed to outsized projects like Yntegra’s Rosewood resort.

Even in the absence of a formal plan, DEPP should have invoked the precautionary principle—acting as though a sensible land use plan already existed. That would mean rejecting a high-density, high-footprint development in a tiny, ecologically sensitive cay. Instead, DEPP gave approval to the very type of project such a plan was meant to prevent

A question of scale and place

Development in The Bahamas is not inherently bad. Communities benefit from jobs, improved infrastructure, and new opportunities. But scale and location matter.

A Rosewood at Baha Mar makes sense: large, urban, and serviceable.

A Rosewood at Sampson Cay does not: small, fragile, and ecologically irreplaceable.

Tourists don’t come to the Exumas to see seawalls and dredged canals – which is what DEPP has approved for the Yntegra Rosewood project. They come for shallow waters, seagrass meadows, and wildlife. Fishermen depend on these habitats for conch, lobster, and fish. Generations of families depend on them for food security. Once destroyed, these ecosystems cannot be rebuilt.

Rejecting the excuse ofinevitability

Some argue that “progress is inevitable” and that, in the long run, nature will reclaim everything anyway. That kind of fatalism is not a plan—it’s an abdication of responsibility. Yes, the Earth is billions of years old and will outlast us, but that does not excuse destroying the ecosystems our families, fishermen, and communities rely on today.

Telling Bahamians to accept massive dredging and seawalls because “Mother Nature will fix it someday” is dangerous and it is nonsense. Our people live here now. Our economy depends on healthy seagrass beds, coral reefs, and fisheries now. Real progress is not measured by how many excuses we invent for reckless projects, but by whether we build livelihoods without erasing the very resources that sustain them. Settling for anything less isn’t inevitability—it’s negligence.

At minimum: Leave North Bay alone

The proposal as it stands is far too dense and destructive for a cay as small and fragile as Sampson. But at a minimum, any path forward must require leaving the North Bay untouched. That means no dredging, no seawall, and no encroachment into one of the most ecologically valuable parts of the project site.

And let us be clear: they do not need this supply dock. Yntegra already has two deep-water marinas on the south end of the island, more than sufficient for servicing the resort. They can still pursue development without destroying the North Bay.

Even then, the overall project remains out of scale. But saving the North Bay would at least protect the most sensitive habitats and prevent the worst ecological damage. Without that baseline protection, there can be no claim that this development is “responsible” or “sustainable.”

A better path forward

The Bahamas needs to flip the script. Instead of chasing mega-projects that erode our natural capital, we should be investing in small-scale, low-impact, community-centered developments that align with local capacity and preserve ecological integrity. That is our true currency, a currency that holds its value.,

This is not anti-development—it is pro-smart development. Rosewood and other brands can thrive in appropriate locations like Nassau. But projects in fragile environments like the Exuma Cays should be limited to low-density models that complement, not consume, the landscape.

The bottom line

At stake is more than Sampson Cay. It is the future direction of The Bahamas. Will we continue sacrificing irreplaceable ecosystems for short-term profit, or will we embrace a model of sustainable development that ensures long-term prosperity?

The Yntegra–Rosewood proposal should serve as a wake-up call. This is the largest development project ever proposed in the Exuma Cays. If we cannot say no to this, what can we say no to?

The Bahamas is at a crossroads. Our choice is stark: defend our environment or allow it to be sold off piece by piece.

• Eric Carey is the former executive director of the Bahamas National Trust and the CEO of ONE Consultants. Eric has always been a firm believer in the importance of local community advocacy and the inclusion of community voices in decisions that affect them. As such, Eric is a strong supporter of SEA; Save Exuma Alliance. The Save Exuma Alliance is a coalition of community leaders, local business owners, and residents of the Exuma Cays working to safeguard Exuma’s unique ecosystems and quality of life from unsustainable development.