How I got to Jamaica...too.

[Accompong]

I woke up refreshed and ready to learn more about Jamaica. I leaned over and kissed my still sleeping wife on the forehead which put a smile on her face. She opened her eyes and told me that a guide that worked with Peter was coming by to take us to Port Royal later this morning. His name was Hunter Wint and she got to know him last night while sitting around the fire. She said she liked his enthusiasm.

We took the time to pack a couple of day packs and organized the tent before heading out to the yard. Peter was already in the kitchen and the “one dollar each” cups of coffee were ready along with some callaloo and johnny cakes. I normally don’t like greens like spinach but this callaloo was delicious especially when I made little breakfast sandwiches using the johnny cakes.

Hunter arrived as if on cue, so I singled him out in conversation to know him better before heading out. My wife was correct. He was enthusiastic as well as smart. I liked him immediately. We agreed on a price of $25 for a day trip and we would pay all expenses. Peter was on his way to town, so we piled in his 4-wheel Land Cruiser and headed down to the bus yard at Half Way Tree.
The city bus was crowded with people going to work but we got a seat thanks to a couple who gave us theirs while Hunter stood next to us. We got off at the ferry terminal and bought $1 tickets for the ride over to Port Royal that would be leaving soon. Hunter took us over to the seawall to sit and gave us a short history lesson about Port Royal and places we would visit. Hunter asked if we wanted to go swimming at his favorite place, Lime Cay. He said he needed to hire a boat for the round trip, and it would cost $10 plus a little tip. We quickly agreed. The ferry gave a signal to board.

Once we got off the ferry, Hunter took us over to the fisherman’s boats on the beach where he arranged for the trip to Lime Key we would take after touring Port Royal. Over the next hour or so, we toured the old Fort Charles and museum as well as Giddy House and shared a drink with our boat captain and Hunter at the Y-Knot before heading down to the beach to shove off for Lime Cay.

The old wooden boat reeked heavily of dead fish, but I just guess that just indicated he was a good fisherman and capable of getting us there and back from Lime Cay. We cut our way out of Kingston Harbor but our destination wasn’t visible as the boat pounded the wave tops and the outboard motor changing pitch as it alternated between being under and on top of the water. About 30 minutes later, a small island appeared in the distance. Lime Cay.

We got off the boat and Hunter stopped me from paying the boat captain. “You don’t pay until he comes back to pick us up”, he said. “That way you pretty much know he will be back”. I smiled. I am getting hang of the Jamaica ting. We put our stuff on an old concrete table topped by a weather-worn thatch covering that had seen better days. No real shade here anywhere as we watched the boat fade into the Kingston skyline. My wife and Hunter sprinted to the water and dove in. I followed close behind. We swam and bobbed in the water playfully splashing each other. Actually, they were mainly splashing me! I was wondering if I were losing my wife to this “Hunter”!

Hunter waded back out of the water and returned with three sets of snorkel masks and tubes he borrowed from Peter. We adjusted them and began to snorkel. Wow! This is why people came out here. They came to snorkel. The fish were colorful and big. Although there was a small reef around the island, it quickly dropped off to a hundred feet or more in depth. A large fish, I think a shark of some kind, swam directly below me which caused me to doggy-paddle my way to shallower water.

In the later afternoon, I kept searching the skyline for our returning boat captain dreading he would not, and we would be stranded here all night or even longer. “Here he comes!”, I heard Hunter yell and felt much better knowing that. We retraced our route back to Port Royal where I paid our boat captain with a little tip that he showed appreciation for by giving us cold Red Stripes.

We took the ferry, a city bus, and a taxi back to Peter’s place just as the sun was setting. We ate some cut up fruit grown mainly in the yard for a dinner. James Dennis was sitting on his usual log seat and I wanted to give both him and Hunter a little something, so I went to the tent. We had started this trip in Reno Nevada, and I had 52 silver dollars I won in a small bag. I took out ten of them and gave five each to Hunter and James. A small token but they seemed to really appreciate it. We hugged and shook hands all around and retired to the tent for the night.

Tomorrow we would be on our way to another new adventure.

[Accompong]

It was Thursday, July 14 just before sunrise and I was wide awake in the tent thinking over our plans and our first real day of travel out on the island alone. I was rethinking the plans. How easy would it be to just stay here where we know the runnings instead of braving the unknown? Stop it! Don’t let it get inside your head! Everything is gonna be alright. Isn’t that what Bob said? The sun was just peeking through the trees when I slipped out of the tent quietly and headed towards the kitchen.

I caught up with Peter putting a pot of water on the stove for coffee. We went into his office/living room where he handed me an envelope for Jah Mike at Sealawn Coral Beach and a receipt for $20 to give to Valerie (I think her name) at Secrets Cabin, Firefly in Negril. He said that everything was set and not to worry. Just give them these things, okay? He asked when we would be ready to go, and I told him about two hours. Just let him know when we were ready, and he would take us down to Half Way Tree and see we got on the proper bus as it can be a little confusing for a tourist. “Thanks”. “Thanks for everything”, I said as I was heading out the front door.

Two hours later and after some sad goodbyes and hugs, we loaded up the Land Cruiser and headed down the hill to the bus park. Peter was right. It was a mad house of activity as Peter pointed to the bus that said Annotto Bay on the signboard across the top. When it gets to the ocean it will turn and go through Port Maria and Sealawn Coral Beach was just on the other side of the town. Peter said to ask the conductor on the Bluebird Country Bus if you need help. We grabbed our backpacks and headed for the bus.

It was not too hard to identify the conductor as he rushed over and grabbed us both by the arms and pulled us towards the bus. It was his job and Peter had warned me about that. On the way, I told him we were going to Sealawn Coral Beach to see a guy named Mike Higgins. “Ah, Jah Mike. Mi breddren.” “No, problem”. “Here, take the front seat and I will tell you when”, as he stretched out his hand for money. I knew the fare from Peter, but I gave him some extra for the guidance. About a half hour later, the bus was full and all the cargo on the roof.

The heavy bus lumbered up through the mountains and I put it together that every time someone yelled “Driver, One Stop!”, the bus would pull over and people would pay the conductor. I was thinking that maybe I should not have paid the conductor in advance. People along the road would point to the ground or wave and the bus would pull over so they could get in. It all seemed orderly for Jamaica.

Peter had given my wife one of his older travel guides so she was following the occasional road signs and giving me what information it had about the area we were traveling through while also following the route along on the map page. It was slow going up the mountain but a little frighteningly fast going down the other side to Annoto Bay.

The coastal part of the trip was beautiful as well until we entered Port Maria. Port Maria was very depressing and the first up close look we had of poverty in Jamaica. We felt so sorry for the people because, compared to them, we were rich and entitled. About 15 minutes later, the bus pulled out of Port Maria and the conductor tapped my knee. “Soon Come”, he said. We secured our backpacks and waited.

“One Stop!” the conductor shouted to the driver and he pulled off the road on a sharp turn so we could get off. A crudely painted sign saying “Sealawn Coral Beach” with an arrow pointed down a walkway towards the ocean below.

It was just around noon and we were anxious to see what would come next.

[Accompong]

The view was spectacular, and the path went down the hill right into the ocean. Cabarita Island seemed like you could reach out and touch it. On our left was a house and nothing else all the way to the sea. We walk up and yelled, “Hello! Anybody there?”. A lady came out to the verandah drying her hands as she walked. She said she was Jah Mike’s girlfriend and that we could put our things inside and wait for him as he was soon to be back. He was out in the “bush”. It seemed there were mostly only three places anyone could be. The house. The yard. The bush. Anywhere else was just “gone somewhere”.

While we were sitting on the verandah wall, a nicely dressed youth approached and introduced himself. He said his name was Tony and a good friend of Jah Mike. We talked for a bit when he asked if we wanted to take a walk up to Firefly which was the former home of Ian Flemming for an even more spectacular view of the ocean. Why not?

So, off we went on our first adventure.

The driveway up was steep. That along with the heat caused us to labor our way to the top, but Tony just climbed effortlessly taking time to teach us about Firefly on the way up. To say the view from Firefly is spectacular does not do it any justice. I have seen many pictures of it since and it still fills me with awe. There was an old gentleman caretaker of the property who gave us a tour of the house and grounds. He was some relation of Tony, so he took us where tourists are not allowed. There was a tunnel in the basement that he said was dug in Captain Morgan’s time as an escape route and some said to hide treasures looted from passing ships. Firefly was later built over it but an opening still exists.

Just before leaving, we were relaxing at Firefly when Tony asked to see my wife’s sunglasses. She took them off and handed them to him and he put them on. “They look great on you”, she said. “They are yours”.

A gift to a new friend but who knew it would cause so much trouble?

[Accompong]

On the way back to Jah Mike’s house, Tony asked if we would like to take a swim to the island. When I remarked that Cabarita Island was way too far, Tony laughed and said Allen’s Island. It turns out that Hurricane Allen in 1980 had bunched up a lot of coral a few hundred feet offshore and locals have beaten a lot of the sharpness off the surface making it easier to sit on. We agreed to go if Jah Mike had not yet returned.

Jah Mike had not returned so Tony scooped up three sets of snorkel equipment while my wife and I changed into swimming suits. We headed down the path to the beautiful ocean below. The water was very clear and even though the bottom was 20 or more feet below, you could see it clearly with all the colorful reef fish darting here and there. Suddenly, Tony dove to the bottom and retrieved a large conch shell and brought it to the surface giving it to my wife. Tony offered to take it to the beach where we could pick it up when we returned and for us to continue swimming and he would catch up to us.

We started swimming to the small outcropping in the distance. We were starting to tire as it appeared that Allen’s Island was a lot further offshore than it appeared. About that time, Tony effortlessly swam up and coaxed us to go on. We did and were glad we continued. Especially when we got to the island and took in the view of the coastline. “There! On the hill”. Tony pointed. “That is Firefly where we just came from”. I looked over more to the right where the coast came to a point. “What’s that called?” “Oh, that’s Galina Point”. My wife and I looked at each other and smiled. We had come full circle.

After a time, we swam back to the beach and Tony offered to take the conch shell up to the house to soak and clean it while my wife and I took a short walk up the coast towards Galina Point for a look. A few minutes later we returned to the path and started our climb back up to Jah Mike’s house when we heard some loud talking and swearing. As we approached, the talking stopped, and Jah Mike came forward and introduced himself.

“Peter told me to give you an envelope and we would like to stay for a couple of nights.”

[Accompong]

Mike Higgins, better known as Jah Mike, was a physical specimen of a man. About 6’ 5” tall and muscular in a lean, athletic sort of way. I am 6’ 3” myself and with his lion’s mane hair he towered over me. His best quality was his constant disarming smile which he flashed readily as he talked. I begged leave to go into the house and retrieve the envelope from Peter and give it to Jah Mike. He read it and said to pitch our tent near the corner of the house then come inside for something to eat. I could feel a little tension, but I did not want to bring it up, so we pitched the tent and went inside.

One thing we learned quickly from our discussions with Jah Mike is that he is the face of tourism in this little village dubbed Castle Gardens. Also, we learned that nearly 70 percent of the people were unemployed and an equal number illiterate. Mike’s house was also like a club house where everyone came to visit and hang out. Before long, a number of young girls and young women came to talk to my wife and very soon after eating she vanished into the neighborhood not to be seen until the later afternoon and that happened both days we were staying there.

After polishing off a meal of fresh lobster and steamed snapper with rice and gully beans, Jah Mike invited me out to the verandah to talk. I had to be a little bit of a detective to put all the pieces together but I was beginning to see that my wife and I were some of the very few people to come here to stay so we were valuable property to Jah Mike. Jah Mike asked straight out if Tony charged us to go up to Firefly and go swimming. I said no. He asked about my wife’s sunglasses Tony was wearing and I told him it was just a gift and not a payment. He seemed to accept the answer, but I did not see Tony around much the rest of the time we were there.

Jah Mike told me he takes guests out to Allen’s Island in his boat “Jah Love” and to go fishing and snorkeling. I started to say we had already been there but realized he needed the money, so I agreed to go the following morning. Soon, several Rasta youths came by and joined us on the verandah. English went out the window and I was struggling to understand the conversation, but I had the old standby “yah, mon” to use when asked something and it mostly worked. Things started to go downhill when Jah Mike rolled me a spliff and gave me a beer.

Again, I was hammered. The strength of the smoke was beyond any that I had experienced except up at Peter’s place. My wife came back, said “Hi” and went to the tent to get it ready for the night. Everyone was smoking a spliff and when someone talked to me, I did not understand so I just said, “yah, mon”. It happened several times when suddenly everyone got up and left me alone on the verandah. Including Jah Mike!

Perplexed, I made my way over to the tent and said to my wife, “The strangest thing happened”, “We were all sitting around talking and suddenly everyone got up and left me alone”. She chuckled. “They were asking you if you liked the smoke and you said ‘yah, mon’ and they asked you if you wanted to buy some and you said “yah, mon” but you didn’t give them any money to do it!”

It was dark outside. I was hammered. There were no lights up on the street, but I felt I must find Jah Mike and make this right. I stumbled up to the road and started to look for him.

[Accompong]

Pitch black and no lights along with being high and night blind, I stumbled over the jagged edge of the road and just caught myself before going down. I looked down the road. Nothing. No sounds. No cars. Nothing. I started walking down what I thought was the center of the road when I realized that almost every yard had people sitting along the road and watching for the rare car that might come by each evening. Suddenly, I felt a little paranoid at being watched by so many strangers that were also being so silent, but I continued to walk towards a board shack along the road with a flickering light of a candle showing some people in the doorway.

Getting closer, I noticed a large person walking towards me and caught a flash of a toothy smile. “Whaagwan, Bill?”. It was Jah Mike. I went on to babble something about being sorry and not understanding and wanting to buy some ganga. Jah Mike kept saying “No Problem” and “Tomorrow” when I realize this must look like a dope deal that it was in front of his entire community. I shut up and he offered to walk me back to the house. It felt like a perp walk and I was so ashamed.

When we got back to the verandah, Jah Mike asked me for $2 Jamaican to get some ganja. Wow! I could not get the money out of my pocket fast enough. Mike said to get some sleep and be ready for a trip in Jah Love in the morning.

[Accompong]

It was barely sunrise and the house was abuzz with activity. We were anxious to get the day started so we got up and walked to the edge of the cliff to gaze at the beautiful view. Shortly, Jah Mike joined us. He said he had some coffee and cut-up fresh fruit from his farm ready if we were ready to eat. We thanked him and followed him up to the verandah where there was a make-shift table had two bowls of fruit and two cups of hot water with two packets of instant coffee. A far cry from Peter’s coffee but we were thankful. Finished. Now we were ready for a trip in Jah Love.

I helped Jah Mike turn over the beached boat and push it part way into the water so my wife could get in first and I followed while Jah Mike went into the bushes and retrieved two oars. After putting them along with a bag full of snorkel equipment into the boat, he stopped. He had forgotten the spear gun which he then retrieved. The spear gun had a carved wooden handle with a trigger and frame made from broken lawn chair parts and a piece of surgical hose for propelling the sharpened steel rod. Jah Mike pushed and jumped into the boat and grabbed the oars.

Jah Mike’s powerful strokes caused Jah Love to cut swiftly and efficiently through the water passing Allen’s Island in a couple of minutes as we headed straight for Cabarita Island. Jah Mike told us that the Pirate Captain Henry Morgan used to own the island but lost it in a card game. Also, he said the locals still call it Goat Island as Morgan used to keep goats there to re-provision his ship as he prowled the waters looking for ships to attack. He added that Morgan used to bury treasure there, but no one has yet to find any. We circled the island slowly getting a panoramic view of the coastline.

We beached Jah Love on Allen’s Island and put on the snorkeling gear. Jah Mike put on a mask but didn’t use the tube preferring to free dive as he grabbed the homemade spear gun and swam across the water. We carefully walked over the coral pieces before swimming and snorkeling as well. Two dives later, Jah Mike had two large reef fish on the end of this spear that he said would be our last night’s dinner. My wife and I exchanged looks. Too bad we only have one last night here.

The three of us put our snorkeling gear into the boat and just treaded water while we each talked about our lives. Somehow life here was so simple and pure compared to the rat race at home. I could get used to living here and, I could tell, so could my wife.

We re-boarded the boat and headed for the beach. As we approached, I could see a group of girls and women waiting for my wife. It was so rewarding for me to see how happy coming here was making her feel.

They took her from the boat and practically dragged her up the hill and into their world.

[Accompong]

I helped Jah Mike re-beach and turn over the boat and hide the oars before following him up to the house. It was still early, and Jah Mike asked me if I wanted to accompany him to football practice. Sure. He changed into a soccer uniform that closely resembled one of the National Team uniforms I had seen on TV and he told me it was an old one of theirs from when he used to workout with them.

We arrived at the pitch and I witnessed firsthand the leadership qualities and the respect the youth in the area had for him. He practiced them hard. I was saddened by the lack of shoes as most of these boys had none to wear. Without a man like Jah Mike to guide them, I shudder to think what would happen to these youth.

Practice wound down and we walked back to the house. A young man that I had seen that first night on the verandah stopped us and handed Jah Mike an ounce or more of ganja which he passed to me. “Here is your $2 bag”. I had almost forgotten about that ordeal last night. “You keep it”, I said. “You can roll me a spliff later”. Jah Mike smiled a signature toothy smile. It was done.

Back on the verandah, Jah Mike and I were still talking when my wife and her ever changing entourage kept coming back down the lane and, after getting things out of the tent, running back up the hill. I stopped her to remind her Jah Mike was cooking the fish for dinner and she said she would be back around sunset before running off again. Jah Mike remarked that he was grateful for my wife helping these young women as many did not have positive role models in their life either.

Jah Mike did not like to talk about money, but I knew I owed him some but did not actually know how much. Meals. Beers. It all adds up quickly. He told me that Peter had put $20 US in the envelope that I brought him. Jah Mike explained that he met peter at Sun Splash in Montego Bay about a week ago and Peter borrowed it from him. I told him that Peter was coming by to pay him for our camping at $10 per night next week but that he should not have to wait. I gave Jah Mike $20 and asked if it covered everything until Peter and he worked out the rest. “Jah Bless”, he said with a smile.

The dinner was cooking, and the smell of herbs and spices was filling the house and making me hungry when my wife arrived alone. Finally. Alone on the verandah, she told me about how the girls did not understand the most basic of feminine hygiene and how they were constantly asking questions. She said that the girls asked if we had children and when she said we did not, the kept saying how sorry they were thinking we were unable to have them instead of not wanting them.

Jah Mike’s girlfriend had steamed the fish and stuffed them with crushed up Cream Crackers and callaloo which was delicious. We finished and Jah Mike, my wife and I went out to the verandah where at least 15 people were gathered around in respectful silence. They were waiting patiently while we finished our meal. Again, I was feeling a little ashamed having eaten such a big meal and most of them had not enjoyed a full meal in a long time. One of the girls, Beverly, was sitting next to my wife and holding her hand. I knew right then and there, I had to do something for these people.

We sat, talked, and laughed a lot until around midnight when Jah Mike asked about our leaving tomorrow. I said we wanted to catch the country bus and he said we needed to be out there on the road early as there wasn’t a firm schedule of times that anyone knew of as it depended on a lot of things like mostly breakdowns. We told everyone individually goodbye and thanked them for everything. It was an extremely hard moment.

I went to the tent to lie down. It took my wife a little longer with Beverly.

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“Bill?” “Are you sleeping?” “Not now”, I mumbled as I rolled over to face my wife’s tear-filled eyes. “I can’t sleep”, she says. I knew she was having the same tugging at her that I experienced up at Peter’s place only this time it was a little more private and personal. She fell in love with this place. “You know, we really need to move on”, I said gently. “I know but I just can’t help feeling so sad”, she continued, “I know I could do so much good for these girls”. I thought, “My little Margaret Mead in Samoa”. I was so lucky to have her as my wife.

I couldn’t go back to sleep and I could see the gently lightening of the morning sun though the tent’s roof. I could also hear muffled voices coming from Jah Mike’s verandah. It seems a growing number of voices could be heard. My wife could hear them too. We started assembling our possessions and re-packing our backpacks leaving only the tent to take down and pack as we grabbed a light and exited the tent.

I could make out about a dozen people either standing or sitting on the verandah wall. Suddenly, Beverly came running off the verandah and hugged my wife which started them both crying. I knew they would be friends forever. I continued up to verandah and greeted the rest when I saw Jah Mike’s girlfriend approaching with coffee and some roasted breadfruit from the kitchen. My wife joined me with Beverly in tow and we enjoyed our breakfast amidst our new friends.

I looked over at the tent where two youths were taking it down and trying to figure out how to pack it in the little bag. Smiling, I wanted to intervene but realized how important it was for them to do it by themselves for us. Jah Mike broke into my thoughts. “I think it is time to go up by the road”. I agreed and went over and completed the packing of the backpacks. Once completed, the two youths grabbed them up and carried them up to the road. Jah Mike, my wife, and I followed along with the cadre of our new friends totaling now about 20 or so. We were both feeling quite emotional and that feeling seemed to be prevalent in our group.

We all stood talking for about an hour or so until we heard the distinctive sounds of the old country bus climbing the hill towards us. It seemed like everyone was waving for the bus to stop for us as we said our final goodbyes and made promises to return one day then entered the bus going to the back seat where we could, again, wave our final goodbyes.

Everyone on the bus seemed to be turning towards us wondering what all the commotion was about. Up to this point in our lives, we had never been so happy yet so sad at the same time. Happy for the time here at Sealawn Coral Beach and sad to leave.

We settled back for the long, long bus ride to Negril.

[Accompong]

We thought we were pretty clever taking the backseat on the bus as it was a bench seat all the way across the back. This way we could spread out a little and even lie down if needed. The biggest problem, we thought, was a board under the seat cushion making the seat hard. The old country buses also had no suspension to absorb the numerous pot holes so, when we hit one near Orcabessa, we flew up in the air so high we hit the ceiling of the bus only to come down hard making a loud bang. Everyone seemed to turn back around and suppress a laugh at the tourists in the back seat. A little embarrassing.

It got me concentrating on the road ahead as best I could to avoid it again. We came across another giant hole and I knew we could not miss it, so I had us lift our bodies off the seat by about a foot to make room for the jolt. It worked and when everyone turned around to see how we were, we just smiled and gave them a thumb’s up sign. And so, it went for the next 7 or 8 hours until we entered Negril.

By this time, the bus was mainly empty as most people got off in Montego Bay or Lucea and we picked up fewer and fewer passengers as we progressed along the old road to Negril. I made my way up to the conductor and told him we wanted off at Firefly. He nodded and said “soon come” so I returned to our seat. Shortly, the bus pulled over and we were there.

As I remember the place, there was a one story home and office where (I think her name was Valerie), a guy and some kids lived that was still unfinished next to two outdoor showers with concrete walls about 5 feet high. We walked up to the office and gave Valerie the receipt that Peter had given us and waited for her reaction. She readily accepted it and slipped into a pair of sandals and walked us to our cabin.

I think that at the time there were only two cedar wood cabins on a knoll next to the beach and a lifeguard stand just beyond as well. The cabin was small and had bunk beds with a naked light bulb for light. Since we had been living out of a tent up until then, it seemed like a castle to us. We dropped off our packs and locked the door. I headed to the beach and my wife headed to the showers to wash her hair and some dirty clothes as we were running low on clean ones.

I looked down the beach and saw no people as far as I could see. Only an overturned, beached fishing boat or two. Suddenly, just down a bit, a youth on a moped came putting up the beach and stopped in front of me. “Hi, they call me Mushroom Kenny” as he thrust a paper shopping bag into my hands containing magic mushrooms. I handed it back and said I wasn’t interested. He was getting a little annoying and hard to avoid as he began to list almost every drug I had ever heard of and some I never had. I kept saying “No!” and waved him away but he was nothing else but persistent so I just avoided him enough to run into the ocean where he could not follow.

About the time Mushroom Kenny gave up and motored down the beach, my wife emerged ready to join me in a swim. It was just getting dusk and the romantic atmosphere was overwhelming. She said she hated to leave Jah Mikes, but she was glad she was here. That make me very happy. It was getting quite dark and we were very tired by lack of sleep the night before and the long bus ride to get here.

We retired to the cabin and I took the top bunk bed. I was fearful all night long that I might fall out but still managed to feel rested in the morning for our last full day in Negril and Jamaica.