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Abaco Dorian victim finds hope & success at Sandals Emerald Bay, Chrishner Butler watched friends float away, grateful every day for new life in Exuma

Fri, Jul 7th 2023, 10:34 AM
Hurricane About Bahamians Business

It is hard, even today more than three years later, for Chrishner Butler to talk about Hurricane Dorian without describing the chilling memories of bodies floating by, being washed out to sea, loved ones unaccounted for, days of being cut off without communication. Butler is from Fox Town, Abaco, where before the deadliest storm in Bahamian history struck, she was helping her mom in a fish house and fuel station and doing cosmetology on the side. If it sounds like an odd combination, especially for someone who now excels in sales, you probably have never tried to make it in a Family Island where you get by with the fish in the sea, the vegetables in the garden and a little of this and a little of that to earn wages.

Today, Butler is a superstar at Sandals Emerald Bay, a sprawling 480-acre resort in Exuma, the yachting capital of The Bahamas. She’s a leader in the sales and loyalty program at the hospitality haven inclusive of golf course, marina, spa, pools, beach experiences, dining options, local entertainment and more than 500 staff.

But the road to get to this slice of heaven in the sun was paved with heartache it has taken years to overcome. 

The story is best told in her own voice. It was early September, 2019 when the warnings were issued, storm on the way, get out if you can. There was little time. Dorian slammed into Abaco and Grand Bahama, pummeling Abaco the worst with winds of 185 mph and gusts up to 225. Water rushed in so fast it took entire settlements with it and much of Marsh Harbour, the capital. Buildings, roads, boats were swept to sea with unknowable numbers of men, women and children.

“The people of Abaco will never forget the horror of what they went through in that hurricane,” Butler begins.

“People are still traumatized. Water rushed out and disappeared, sucked out, and you were thinking it was going to come rushing back in like a tsunami because where there once was water, there were just miles and miles of land. The ocean disappeared. 

“A friend got washed away with her son’s arm in her hand, never to be seen again, no arm, no mother. Kids, including mine, were traumatized.” Her two sons were with their dad in Marsh Harbour. She was 40 miles north. “We were cut off, we had no communication, I didn’t know if they were dead or alive. We had no cell signal, the bridge was gone. We ran a fishing boat finally to take the journey to Marsh Harbour. After that we got another boat, then we walked, we were walking and hiking a ride. My two daughters were with me, but we needed to find my sons. I still didn’t know if they were dead or alive. Then we heard they had made it to Eleuthera. We sat at the airport for a day while everyone was fighting to get on the plane and be repatriated to somewhere, anywhere.

“You smell the dead bodies. People were looting. It was like something out of a horror movie.”

Then someone told her that the people of Exuma were taking in victims of the storm and there could even be a job available. She made her way, arriving at Sandals in the only clothes she had, jeans and a t-shirt.

Still shaken, underdressed, hopeful, she made it through the interview and got the message. “This is not going to be a short-term fix,” she was told. “You must be sure that you want to re-locate.”

Want to re-locate? she thought, her mind picturing the destruction left behind, the nothingness where her life and home once stood. She accepted the job.  

At Sandals, another Bahamian, a manager named Emma Sealy, took her under her wing. “You have to get up and try,” she told me. “No matter what you have been through, don’t let that define what you become.” Butler underwent training and worked hard, loving what she was doing and appreciating the chance to start over. In a matter of months, her children were able to join her and the family was nearly whole again. The storm-weary traveler who showed up in jeans with hopes for a new chance became one of the top sales people in the company, earning awards and trips to sister resorts.

Today, you can spot Butler by her bright smile and the way she greets everyone in the club lounge that serves as her informal office. There’s a good reason for that smile.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” she confides. “It’s been so good to have a second chance thanks to Sandals and Exuma. I just bought a little lot and soon I am going to start building a home of my own for the children and me. Just push through and you will come out on top. It’s okay to start over.” 

It is hard, even today more than three years later, for Chrishner Butler to talk about Hurricane Dorian without describing the chilling memories of bodies floating by, being washed out to sea, loved ones unaccounted for, days of being cut off without communication. Butler is from Fox Town, Abaco, where before the deadliest storm in Bahamian history struck, she was helping her mom in a fish house and fuel station and doing cosmetology on the side. If it sounds like an odd combination, especially for someone who now excels in sales, you probably have never tried to make it in a Family Island where you get by with the fish in the sea, the vegetables in the garden and a little of this and a little of that to earn wages.
Today, Butler is a superstar at Sandals Emerald Bay, a sprawling 480-acre resort in Exuma, the yachting capital of The Bahamas. She’s a leader in the sales and loyalty program at the hospitality haven inclusive of golf course, marina, spa, pools, beach experiences, dining options, local entertainment and more than 500 staff.
But the road to get to this slice of heaven in the sun was paved with heartache it has taken years to overcome. 
The story is best told in her own voice. It was early September, 2019 when the warnings were issued, storm on the way, get out if you can. There was little time. Dorian slammed into Abaco and Grand Bahama, pummeling Abaco the worst with winds of 185 mph and gusts up to 225. Water rushed in so fast it took entire settlements with it and much of Marsh Harbour, the capital. Buildings, roads, boats were swept to sea with unknowable numbers of men, women and children.
“The people of Abaco will never forget the horror of what they went through in that hurricane,” Butler begins.
“People are still traumatized. Water rushed out and disappeared, sucked out, and you were thinking it was going to come rushing back in like a tsunami because where there once was water, there were just miles and miles of land. The ocean disappeared. 
“A friend got washed away with her son’s arm in her hand, never to be seen again, no arm, no mother. Kids, including mine, were traumatized.” Her two sons were with their dad in Marsh Harbour. She was 40 miles north. “We were cut off, we had no communication, I didn’t know if they were dead or alive. We had no cell signal, the bridge was gone. We ran a fishing boat finally to take the journey to Marsh Harbour. After that we got another boat, then we walked, we were walking and hiking a ride. My two daughters were with me, but we needed to find my sons. I still didn’t know if they were dead or alive. Then we heard they had made it to Eleuthera. We sat at the airport for a day while everyone was fighting to get on the plane and be repatriated to somewhere, anywhere.
“You smell the dead bodies. People were looting. It was like something out of a horror movie.”
Then someone told her that the people of Exuma were taking in victims of the storm and there could even be a job available. She made her way, arriving at Sandals in the only clothes she had, jeans and a t-shirt.
Still shaken, underdressed, hopeful, she made it through the interview and got the message. “This is not going to be a short-term fix,” she was told. “You must be sure that you want to re-locate.”
Want to re-locate? she thought, her mind picturing the destruction left behind, the nothingness where her life and home once stood. She accepted the job.  
At Sandals, another Bahamian, a manager named Emma Sealy, took her under her wing. “You have to get up and try,” she told me. “No matter what you have been through, don’t let that define what you become.” Butler underwent training and worked hard, loving what she was doing and appreciating the chance to start over. In a matter of months, her children were able to join her and the family was nearly whole again. The storm-weary traveler who showed up in jeans with hopes for a new chance became one of the top sales people in the company, earning awards and trips to sister resorts.
Today, you can spot Butler by her bright smile and the way she greets everyone in the club lounge that serves as her informal office. There’s a good reason for that smile.
“I’ll tell you a secret,” she confides. “It’s been so good to have a second chance thanks to Sandals and Exuma. I just bought a little lot and soon I am going to start building a home of my own for the children and me. Just push through and you will come out on top. It’s okay to start over.” 
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