Seasons greetings to one and all! We celebrated Christmas anchored outside the Montego Bay Yacht Club in Jamaica. Christmas Eve was wet with squalls passing through every hour or so, but we managed to find a break in the rain to walk down to the Houseboat restaurant without getting too wet. We had a lovely meal and stopped at the Hard Rock Café for a drink on the way back. On Christmas Day local sailors Julia and Phil invited the cruisers at the club for a pot luck barbeque. We met a nice crowd of people and enjoyed chatting and picking up a few tips on sailing in Cuba and the Caymans – our next destinations.

We arrived in Jamaica in early December after a tough passage from Panama beating into 15-20 kt northeasterlies with a low choppy swell. Unfortunately we motorsailed most of the way only managing to sail for a couple of days when the wind veered to the east, it was wonderfully peaceful when we finally turned the engine off.  Our original destination was Port Antonio but the wind at the east end of the island was picking up so we decided to make landfall in Kingston.

Most visitors bypass Kingston as it has a reputation for squalid shantytowns with gangs and violence controlling the streets. This is no doubt true in most of west Kingston and in parts of Downtown at night but during the day the city is crowded and vibrant; street markets clogging the pavements, restaurants and shops throbbing with music and the smell of ganja wafting in the air.

We anchored outside the Royal Jamaica Yacht Club on the inside of the sand spit which defines the harbour. It was a short trip up to Port Royal, the old pirate stronghold at the end of the spit. During the 1600’s the English crown rewarded raids against Spanish ships so pirates and buccaneers were drawn to Port Royal like flies to a honey pot. The town developed a flamboyant reputation for wickedness and debauchery until it was destroyed by an earthquake in 1692.

I was hoping to be able to dive on the ruins of the town which still lie under the water but permits are only given to marine archaeological researchers and the like. Instead we visited Fort Charles which was the base of the English navy in the Caribbean for 200 years and also home to Horatio Nelson. We sat in the yard in the shade of an ancient tree and admired the cannons and enjoyed the peace.

We took the bus Uptown to visit the Bob Marley museum which is located in the house where he lived and recorded much of his music. The guide was fun and got us singing Marley songs as we walked through the rooms. The walls are hung with gold and platinum records, album covers, clothes and other memorabilia from the man himself and it was interesting to see the studio. We also went Downtown to “the government yard in Trenchtown” where he grew up and started his career.

Local sailors advised us to make the passage round to Port Antonio overnight leaving Kingston at dusk and rounding the eastern point around midnight when the wind is lightest. Once past Morant Point we were able to sail happily until dawn when the wind dropped. We entered the west harbour through a narrow channel into an almost landlocked bay and dropped anchor opposite the Errol Flynn marina, the town’s most famous (late) resident.

Port Antonio is a pretty little town nestled at the foot of the Blue Mountains with several well preserved historic buildings and a sprawling, bustling market. We met Windel, a local rasta man, who took us for a day trip into the mountains. The famous coffee mostly comes small farms with pocket handkerchief coffee plantations where the beans are dried in the sun then roasted over an open hearth and ground in a mortar and pestle made out of a large tree trunk. We stopped at the James Dennis farm where Windel’s friend the “coffee man” gave us a small bag of coffee and armfuls of guava, limes and grapefruit – so generous and friendly.

Sailing along the north coast was a breeze with the easterly trade winds picking up in the afternoons and carrying us into the next harbour. We stopped at the beautiful tiny keyhole anchorage at Oracabessa, home of Ian Flemming and fourteen of his Bond books. Since his death the estate was owned by Bob Marley and then Chris Blackwell, his manager, and is now an upmarket resort  – we diddn’t go in. We also stopped for a night at Discovery Bay which was a little rolly and had nothing much of interest to see apart from a bauxite mine.

So here were are in Montego Bay watching LNG tankers and massive cruise ships come and go – it’s better than telly! As always there’s a list of boat jobs to be done before we kick off to Caymans and then Cuba where very little of next to nothing will be available. I am trying to source various boat parts on the island while Neil is repairing pumps, replacing switches and trying to figure out gremlins in our electrical systems.  

Happy New Year folks – yeah mon!

Suzy