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