Exuma

Five baby pigs left on Big Major Cay in the early 1990s became the most popular single attraction in the entire Bahamas. The swimming pigs—feral descendants of those original five—attract more social media attention and tourist dollars than any resort, beach, or cultural site in the archipelago. This is founder effects taken literally: a tiny initial population created an entire economic niche that Exuma now depends on. The pigs weren't part of a tourism development plan. They were either abandoned by farmers, dropped off by sailors who planned to return and eat them, or survived a shipwreck—the origin story varies. What matters is that they stayed, learned to swim out to boats for food, and became photographable.

Social media amplified what was previously a curiosity into a destination in itself. Instagram and TikTok rewarded photogenic animal encounters, and swimming pigs delivered: unlikely, charming, shareable. Tourism to Exuma jumped 21% above 2019 levels by 2023, driven substantially by visitors whose primary goal was pig interaction. The district became one of the fastest-growing economic centers in the Bahamas, with population more than doubling between 2000 and 2010 as resort properties expanded to serve the pig pilgrims. By 2024, more than $1.5 billion in investments were underway: 2,750 vacation rental units, 550 hotel rooms, and Sandals' $100 million transformation of its Emerald Bay property into Beaches Exuma with capacity for 850 employees.

George Town, Exuma's capital with roughly 2,500 full-time residents, functions as the service hub for an economy built around an accident. The pigs created demand, the demand created infrastructure, the infrastructure enabled further development that no longer depends directly on the pigs but wouldn't exist without them. This is ecological succession triggered by an invasive species—except the invasive species is tourists, and the pigs were the pioneer species that made the invasion possible. Every tour operator, rental property, and restaurant in Exuma benefits from path dependence initiated by five feral pigs thirty years ago.

The challenge now is managing carrying capacity. Big Major Cay can only sustain so many daily visitors before the pigs become stressed, the beach degrades, and the experience loses its charm. Some operators feed the pigs hot dogs and rum—novelty for tourists, metabolic disaster for the animals. The Bahamas Humane Society and tourism authorities implemented feeding guidelines in 2017 after several pigs died from eating sand mixed with food or drinking seawater to wash down salty snacks. The resource that created Exuma's economy is also vulnerable to overexploitation by that same economy.

By 2026, Exuma faces the question of whether its boom can diversify beyond the founding phenomenon. Beaches Exuma's reopening will employ 850 people in family-oriented resort tourism—a market segment not dependent on pig selfies. The $1.5 billion investment pipeline includes villa developments and marina expansions targeting wealthy yacht owners who may never visit Big Major Cay. If these succeed, Exuma will have transitioned from accidental to intentional tourism destination. If they fail, or if the pigs die off from disease or mismanagement, Exuma's growth story ends as suddenly as it began—another example of boom-bust economics driven by a resource that can't be reliably replenished.