In memory of a Negril fisherman
About 2 years ago, a tall, old man started building a dugout boat on the Hermitage Road, just across from the Anglican Church. Every time I visited Negril, we spoke as the work progressed. I could see him walking in the morning carrying a small bag with tools.
Then, he painted his boat with truly Jamaican colors. One day, he said, he was going to buy a motor.
Then he finished his project and the boat dissapeared from the street, he was fishing. In touch with Lord every morning, harvesting His gifts to us.
During my March visit, I learned that he took his boat to sea and died there. A few days later, his lifelong friend and neighbour followed him.
What an admirable Jamaican spirit! To conceive a plan that would lead to sustenance and execute it flawlessly...
I hope he was granted an Engineering degree in the Fisherman Paradise.
Walter
Re: In memory of a Negril fisherman
Big Up to all Fisherman. My late husband lost many good friends to the sea, even when they were warned not to go out to sea. He was one of the first three spear fisherman in the Caribbean. While spear fishing in Negril he was dropped in by Booby Cay each morning and swam to the Lighthouse spearing fish. When Negril was fished out he continued around the Island through Belmont, Old Harbor, and Kingston. Then out to deep sea fishing for days at a time. He spent a month in the hospital from a barrucuda bite, and a short time in a Columbian jail for him and his crew for being in their water's. They immediately released them after processing and they were free to do what they pleased. When l asked him how they communicated he said there was a fisherman's Patious. The Columbians treated them well while they were there and wanted to keep him in Columbia to teach the Columbians spear fishing but he returned home to his family. The Columbians took all of their equipment and they were sent back with only enough food and water to make it home. He told me he saw things out in the deep sea that made him swim to the boat fast and jump in. A risky business. Glad he made it through.
Re: In memory of a Negril fisherman
Yes, big Up ! Risky but respectfull business, I wish I remembered a name of the man who built that boat.
Re: In memory of a Negril fisherman
When my late husband was a young boy he would come home from school and drop two lines in the water and go off to play. When he returned he had his dinner. Fish were abundant. In those days the people in Negril's main staple was fish. He also was very conscious about what he called balm also known as embalming fluid in the fish he ate which they used to preserve the fish while out in the deep sea. He loved to grate a coconut and cook for his family and friends. He knew if fish had been embalmed by the color of the eyes. I more than once saw him take a bite of fish and spit it into into his hand and throw it. The staff were never offended where ever we were as he was remembered for bringing boats of fish into Negril back in the day. Even in his elder years many people would return his kindness with a a simple token of respect such as a piece of fruit. Boy oh boy did he live his fish heads and also the eyes. The staff at the Seastar ensured he had the best fish with no balm. The chef would come out of the kitchen to discretely watch him chew the fish head.
Re: In memory of a Negril fisherman
Quote:
Originally Posted by
brihinds
When my late husband was a young boy he would come home from school and drop two lines in the water and go off to play. When he returned he had his dinner. Fish were abundant. In those days the people in Negril's main staple was fish. He also was very conscious about what he called balm also known as embalming fluid in the fish he ate which they used to preserve the fish while out in the deep sea. He loved to grate a coconut and cook for his family and friends. He knew if fish had been embalmed by the color of the eyes. I more than once saw him take a bite of fish and spit it into into his hand and throw it. The staff were never offended where ever we were as he was remembered for bringing boats of fish into Negril back in the day. Even in his elder years many people would return his kindness with a a simple token of respect such as a piece of fruit. Boy oh boy did he live his fish heads and also the eyes. The staff at the Seastar ensured he had the best fish with no balm. The chef would come out of the kitchen to discretely watch him chew the fish head.
Love your stories. Keep them coming
