After a couple of hours in the water, they walk up the beach to a waterfront shack, where they share plates of spicy conch salad and battered “crack” conch, washing it down with bottles of cold Sands beer. When they finish, Willa and Taylor each snag an empty conch shell from the mound behind the shack. With holes in them from where the conch were removed, the shells aren’t gift-shop quality, but they’re perfect anyway.

On their way back across the island, they come across a place called the Dolphin House, a patchwork house made from stones, shells, driftwood, colored tiles, and recycled bottles. The arched entryway is framed by leaping dolphin sculptures, and a sign on the door explains that Dolphin House was built by Ashley Saunders and has been a work-in-progress since 1993.

A brown-skinned man with graying dreadlocks approaches as they read the sign. “Welcome to Dolphin House,” he says. “If you would like to take a tour, you can pay just inside the gift shop and come upstairs.”

They each pay five dollars, then climb a set of outside stairs decorated with bits of brightly colored tile. The man is waiting in the main room of the house, where mosaic dolphins adorn every wall. He introduces himself as Ashley Saunders and explains that he started working on the house after an encounter with wild dolphins.

“The dolphins touched my heart and awakened the artist in me,” he says as they move slowly around the main floor. Ashley points out whole starfish, bits of coral, US license plates gifted to him by visitors, and coins from around the world plastered into the walls. Overhead, multicolored buoys dangle from the ceiling. Taylor snaps what seems like a million pictures. “I built this place by myself as a monument to honor the wild dolphins of Bimini.”

Before either of them can reply, Ashley excuses himself to greet an older couple who have wandered in off the street. Leaving the girls in a mermaid-themed bedroom. A Finley room. When he returns, he explains that visitors sometimes donate trinkets to add to the house. He shows them a few pairs of earrings, beer bottles from other countries, and even someone’s favorite lipstick. “People want to be a part of the house.”

“It’s like a group effort,” Willa says.

Ashley nods. “Exactly.”

He takes them up another flight of stairs to an unfinished third floor where they can see out over the island. As Taylor takes photo after photo of Ashley’s work, Willa tries to memorize everything she sees. Maybe she’ll return to Bimini one day. Maybe she won’t. Either way she wants to remember it all.

Finally, Ashley leads them back down to street level to sign the guest book. Taylor signs—Whiskey and Tango were here!—and they slip out when he’s greeting another new group of tourists.