Bathsheba is a village on the Atlantic coast of Barbados, in the parish of Saint Joseph, where the surf breaks white among boulders of fossil coral standing on stems that sea creatures have grazed away at the waterline, with the Soup Bowl, the island's surf break, in front of it and a slope of painted board houses behind, and it is the east coast's escape, reached by a road over the hills from the calm west. The boulders are pieces of the terraces that step up the hill behind the village, each terrace a dead fringing reef that grew to the sea surface of its day and was lifted clear, and the rocks on the beach fell from the cliff and stand on necks that the urchins and chitons have worn thin, so that at low tide the sand channels and reef basins open between them and the walker gets right underneath; the village is said to be named for the biblical Bathsheba, who bathed in milk to keep her skin soft, since the Atlantic breaks so white here that the inshore water turns to froth, and the swimming is in the rock pools rather than the sea, whose currents take people. Bridgetown families rode a sugar railway out here for pennies on a Sunday, and the picnic lawn above the sand, where the palms lean inland from the wind, is where the village still watches the sea.
The Soup Bowl is a reef break that the winter groundswells crossing the open Atlantic turn on between November and March, head-high and bigger, the size the barrels are known for, and the Independence Pro is surfed on it in early November. Leatherbacks, the one sea turtle that will haul out on the island's high-energy side, nest on the east-coast sand from February to July, and the few streets of board houses, rum shops and guesthouses climb the slope painted red, blue and pink. Bathsheba is the rough side of a gentle island, and the rocks in its surf are standing on stems.