By THEA RUTHERFORD, Guardian National Correspondent, thea@nasguard.com

The last time Howard Bevans' talent was hidden was more than 30 years ago. And even then, it didn't stay hidden for long. A young man who knew he didn't want to work for anyone, Bevans, on the advice of a friend, began tinkering with coconut shells of all things. The startlingly hard, dry husks held the substance of exotic jewelry. From their shells Bevans would spend the next three decades pulling varnished loop and dangling earrings, cups, figurines – even lamps – like rabbits from a hat.

When he started out while living in the Virgin Islands it seemed simple enough for a young man with talent. Chalking up using the abundant raw material around him to "common sense," he talked about turning food into jewelry as if it is the most natural thing.

Few things come without sacrifice and Bevan's work has been no exception. "There was a lot of trial and error," said the soft-spoken man. Shaping unruly shells into smooth ornaments with bench grinders, saws and drills have led to injuries over the years. He no longer has sense in two of his fingers and a drill once went through his hand. His wrists were bound in worn bands as he added the finishing touches to pieces at the Festival Place stall he shares with benefactress Lady Darling, the results of carpal tunnel syndrome from years of fine and continuous work with his hands.

But unearthing his talent and using it was all worth it for the artisan who is also a fisherman and a diver. He has cherished the ability to produce native art in between, championing the cause of bringing attention to the artistry of craftwork in an environment where imported crafts often outsell Bahamian-made works.

"The problem that a lot of people have is they don't understand that we're artists too because we take something and we turn it into a work of art. The only difference between me and [other] artists is that artists put it on a canvas; I put it on a coconut, which is a little more rugged."

Quality and standards are important, Bevans knows. They are elements he has taught some 300 students within the last two years. Approached by BAIC (Bahamas Agricultural and Industrial Corporation) more than once about teaching his craft, Bevans finally conceded a year ago and held his first workshop in Central Andros. Since then he has held workshops for up to 40 students at a time, aged 14 to 70, in Eleuthera, Cat Island, Grand Bahama, San Salvador and North and South Andros. He held his last workshop in Long Island in March.

"I was able to see what the Bahamian is doing," he said, savoring the style of work unique to each island he visited. "There is a lot of hidden talent that we have... Sometimes I feel like crying when I see the work that they have done." He encourages students to trademark their work.

Bevans is sure Bahamian craft workers can come together to create a viable industry of Bahamian products made from indigenous materials like the coconut. He sees a "John Bull" of indigenous (made by Bahamians with locally found materials as opposed to imported materials) products on Bay Street with showcases for works from each island. "I know the Bahamian can do it," he says.

"One of my people from Andros, she showed me a necklace that she made and she said 'what's the price of this?' I didn't want to tell her it was priceless, but that's what it was. The work she had put into it was unbelievable."