Clarity, Markus and Jamar in Negril – Nov 2011 Trip Report: Day 1-3

[Hubby-man]

Oh yeah, The Jet Ski experience...

I was lucky enough to enjoy the luxury of a private jet ski in Florida for a few years, but I was really surprised that Daisy & Jamar would suggest that we rent one. They seemed really eager, but once we were jetting at 40 mph over the little waves catching a little air here and there, their faces turned a soft shade of green and they uncomfortably held on to the small seat behind me. The machine - while rather big – might just NOT have been intended for three passengers. As scary as that would be for anyone, my two companions are really more beach bums than open water enthusiasts....

We went out as far as we dared, not all the way out to the reef as we had planned, but the information from the gas-gauge was a little disconcerting. I would suggest, that if you rent a Jet Ski, you pay first and ask the guy renting it to you, to make the trip to the gas station before you take a ride, rather than after...

After we had all taken a swim and climbed back onto the wobbly motor-float, we noticed that our seating arrangements had been unkindly reversed. We were now sitting in order of who wanted to get out of the water first, with Daisy in front. Since switching seats would have been a highly acrobatic experience and neither Jamar nor Daisy wanted to go back into the water again, Daisy became the default driver for the trip back.

She was a little nervous at first, but once she felt the sporty machine responding neatly to her commands and the powerful motor between her legs roaring out at the slightest touch of her finger on a button, she was kind of hooked. While we were bobbing scarily back and forth behind her she leaned into spray and gunned it towards the beach, possibly because she wanted to get back to the safety of shore in a hurry.

In front of Alfred's Daisy slowed down to an idle and we hopped off on the platform to let Jamar have a go. We watched him from the platform as he drove circles around it, a little like an old lady on mobility scooter at Walmart: slow, a little dazed and slap-happy.

We had to do something, so I started yelling at him to get his butt of the seat and drive standing up. “Come on Dude! Push down on that gas button! Don't be a wimp!”

Peer-pressure always works! Within minutes Jamar turned from a grandma into Action Jackson, and soon drove standing up and hugging the corners, crossing and jumping over his own wake with a dramatic splash. We definitely all got our moneys worth!



Back on the beach I dropped the two passengers off and had another go myself. But I am not 20 anymore and there is a definite voice in my head now, that tells me I have a lot to lose. I am not the same person I used to be. We used to race through the mangroves on a jet ski knowing full well behind every corner the water way could be abruptly cut off by a branch or sandbank. We used to crash into the unforeseen obstacles, go flying into the shrubbery and got up to get some more bruises. Now I can't even let it rip on open water with out pissing my pants. I am getting old … and reasonable - yuck.

We went to grab a quick lunch. Then Daisy, who directed and managed every detail of our vacation, like a benevolent bridezilla, informed us, that it was time to see Maureen at the Sunnyside bar. So me and Jamar dutifully grabbed our wallets and trotted to the beach behind her.

Sunnyside Bar is not far from the Grand Pineapple and right next to "ROOMS". Don't look for a sign, yet. They are saving up to have one painted. (I would have loved to paint one for them, but it didn't feel right to offer something, that would have taken work away from a Jamaican Artist. Plus it would hardly have been authentic).

On the short walk down the beach we made some obligatory promises to see peoples vending booths just to hasten our progress. We also have to keep a constant eye out for Jamar or he'll get lost and disappear somewhere with some shady character, only to return frustrated with more stuff he didn't mean to purchase. He already had one person chasing after him, demanding a ridiculous sum from him, for no more than the sharing of an herbal cigarette.

Once we reached the vicinity of the sunny-side bar this was no longer a concern. I remember the first day we met Maureen and she almost brought a broom out to chase away a beer-mooching fellow. One look from her can kill any trespasser.

A tall figure was sitting on the bench in front of the bar one leg up and his arms slung around the knee. We hesitantly approached. Then Daisy and Maureen made eye contact. Their faces brightened and Maureen came around from behind the bar and opened her arms invitingly.

Maureen's hugs, if you can get one, are brisk and economic. When you meet her you will find a sincere woman that has no time for nonsense. It's not that you can't tickle some playfulness out of her. You certainly can, She is not cold at all. She is in fact very warm and kind, but she doesn't suffer a fool. From her mouth you can get an utterly sober view of Jamaica. She works hard and if you want something from her you need to show some effort. She doesn't just deserve one's respect, she commands it.



But if you do get her to smile and laugh, you are looking at one of the most beautiful and radiant woman we have met in Jamaica or anywhere else for that matter. I personally enjoy strong women, after all I was raised by several.

We clumsily climbed over the ridiculously high bench that wraps itself around the little bar. And started off the boozy part of the day with a round of beers.