Port Antonio, Jamaica: Part 4

On Sunday morning (March 10), the four of us set off for another day of sight-seeing and adventure. This time we headed west out of Port Antonio and found that the highway was in much better condition than the one to the east. We drove along the coast to Buff Bay and then turned south for the mountains, specifically the Blue and John Crow Mountains National Park. Soon, we found the road crossing burbling streams. Waterfalls splashed down cliffs nestled in the foliage by the road. Flame trees, with their extravagant red flowers, stood out among the dense green foliage. The steep hillsides were often cultivated in bananas or coffee. When we stopped to admire a stream, a man ran out from a building partly obscured by the trees and shrubs and offered to guide us or sell us coffee. Enis, as had happened a couple times the day before, was asked discreetly to sniff a baggy full of the local weed to consider purchase. Enis obviously looks the most like a stoner among the four of us because Ula, Peter and I were never approached.

View looking down from a bridge 

Colorful shop on the mountain road, closed on Sunday morning 

Small waterfall

View from Blue Mountain Cafe

Peter, Enis and Ula on the veranda of the cafe

Tropical flowers and flame tree

Coffee beans

At about 4000 feet elevation, we came to the Blue Mountain Cafe, where five male bicyclists were taking a short break from their ascent from sea level to a crest at 6000 feet. They didn't even look winded! We stopped just to admire the panorama and take photographs. Ula and Peter had cups of coffee, and we arranged to stop back for lunch on our way back down the mountain. The winding road steadily twisted and climbed as we left behind cultivated land and entered the jungle. We caught up with the bicyclists at a three-way junction, took some more photographs and drove a bit farther up, but the road was getting more rough and the scenery was changing, so we began our descent after traveling a couple of more miles.

Another view from the cafe

Unidentified flowers

Coffee and Jamaican apple at the cafe

Banana flowers and fruit

Hibiscus picked up from beside the road

I had a vegetarian meal and the other three had the same food accompanied by fried chicken. The old chef presented his creations with flair and pride. The helpings were enormous, but we were hungry! We were the only customers again.

Back along the coast, Ula and Enis requested a stop at a produce stand, and right away, like magic, a colorful display appeared by a wide place in the road. The vendor provided us with samples of some the fruit.  The Jamaican apple is shaped like a pear but has a bright red skin and a pure white interior. Its texture is something between a pear and a Macintosh apple, and it is mildly sweet. The Jamaican star apple is the color of an eggplant. When cut in half, the fruit has some resemblance to a star. The way to eat it is to suck out the purplish pulp and the white slimy juice and spit out the seeds. In some ways, it resembles a fig, and after eating it, your lips feel slightly puckered and sensitive. The vendor deftly cut up a pineapple for us to purchase, and we also bought one intact as well as the delicious smaller tropical bananas, some Jamaican apples and Jamaican star apples.

Roadside stand

Jamaican star apple

Vendor artfully cutting a small pineapple

Back at the marina, we met up with Gail and Peter from S/V Pega, whom we had raced down from Great Inagua a few days before. (We got in two hours before them, having sailed all the way!) We planned to go to dinner, but first we had to find the town of Drapers east of Port Antonio and the bar that was hosting Vinyl Sunday reggae music. We got pointed in the right direction and stopped a couple of times to ask people hanging out by the road for confirmation. When we found it, there was no doubt that we were there. The dark bar was dimly lit with disco style lights, and on the porch was the DJ and a tower of amplifiers and loudspeakers. Although it was supposed to start at 6 p.m., we were obviously early as the popular place was pretty deserted. We climbed the porch steps and entered the bar, wide-eyed, then signaled to each other to go back outside as verbal communication of any kind was impossible. We had been told that Vinyl Sunday was a true Jamaican experience, and it certainly was an experience, but shouting futilely at each other while sustaining damage to our ears did not seem to any of us to be a good idea, so we left as soon as we took a quick photograph to mark the occasion.

Ula, Enis, Pete, Gail and Peter getting ready to escape from Drapers Bar

Gail and Pete had eaten previously at the place we had passed by on Friday evening and had liked it, so the six of us went there for dinner. First, we talked with and admired (but did not purchase) the work of a prolific woodcarver before finding a comfortable, inviting place to sit and ordering our food at the windows of the two separate windows. Then we talked about boats and life in general while we patiently waited for our meals. (Patience is required at all restaurants here.)

Wood carvings

Afterwards, we returned to our boat, where Enis mixed Bahamian rum with Jamaican fruit juices for cocktails, and Ula cut up some of the fresh fruit. (It is like being a pampered guest on my own boat when they are on board.)

At 6 a.m. the next morning (Monday, March 11), Enis and Ula caught the express bus from here to the Montego Bay airport, a four and a half hour trip. Because of flight delays, they had a bit of time to explore Montego Bay. Peter got the boat ready for his absence and made a few last arrangements for his two week vacation in England, and I did laundry, cleaned and cooked meals for the first time in a couple of weeks. It was Peter's 62nd birthday, but we didn't do anything special. I guess his trip to England and his abandonment of me is his birthday gift!

He caught the bus at the same time on Tuesday morning, and I went back to bed. That afternoon, I played with some of the French kids in the pool and chatted with the parents.

Zelie, Soizic, Augustine and Mederic

The next day, I wandered around town a little bit, taking photos of interesting structures. I discovered fruit and vegetable stands tucked away in an alley off West Street in an area called Musgrave Market. The vendors were all women. One shared some delicious jack fruit with me, but I had to explain that I couldn't purchase anything that day because I already had provisions on my boat. West Street seems to be more prosperous and well-maintained than some other areas of town, but poverty peeks out everywhere.

Colonial era building, still well-maintained

West Street

It doesn't get any brighter than this!

Women buying produce on West Street 

Musgrave Market 

Uniformed school children playing in a park by the marina

West Street 

Another side of Port Antonio.  Is it an appliance store or a peanut shop?

Anglican Church

Anglican Church interior

Yesterday afternoon, I walked around a bit more and found the large Anglican Church open.

The weather is lovely here and the noise level is not. Everyone is friendly, but there is not much to keep me occupied. I chat with people by the pool sometimes, but the days stretch out before me. Some days I take a short walk in the area of the city near the marina.

A dive boat operates out of the marina, and I went on a two-dive excursion on Friday. Both dives were in marine conservation areas. The first was at Alligator Reef, and we dove to 60 feet. It was a drift dive over rows of reefs separated by deeper sandy bottoms. My vest was too loose and my tank kept shifting toward my right. In trying to re-center it, I accidentally released my weight belt. Fortunately, I was quite near the divemaster, who was spooling out a string to a float at the surface, and I was able to tug on the string to get her attention. I slowly ascended, and she and her husband/partner retrieved my belt. She brought it back to the surface, I put it back on and we were able to continue the dive.

Equipment was changed out for me during the interval on the boat between dives, which we passed by relaxing in lovely Blue Lagoon, and the second dive just outside the reef of the lagoon, down to 45 feet, went much more smoothly.  On both dives, the divemaster pointed out fairly well camouflaged, sandy-colored crabs. They had globular bodies, like inflated balls, about two feet in diameter and enormous claws. The barrel sponges were the size of very large trash cans and came in a wide variety of colors. It would almost have been possible to slip entirely down into one. Large spiny lobsters abounded in the crevices and under the ledges. We found a few invasive lionfish, but the divemaster's partner was there to hunt them with his spear gun. Visibility was excellent, at least 75 feet, so it was a very successful dive trip.

While I was waiting for the divemaster to show up at the pool--she was late because traffic was at a near stand-still due to both political parties hosting large, competing marches--I read a novel, until I was forced to go into the office to escape the highest level of decibals I have been subjected to so far. Both candidates (from blocks away) were broadcasting their speeches from loudspeakers on top of cars, and the volume reverberated off the marina building and was causing the plastic tables and chairs to shake!

It's after 7 p.m. now, and the various sources of noise are starting to compete again, and I need to close up the companionway to keep out the mosquitoes and no-see-ums. I still have another eight days here before Peter returns from England, where he is having a wonderful time with many friends.