Portland
Portland, north of the Blue Mountains, is generally considered the most beautiful of Jamaica’s parishes – a rain-drenched land of luscious foliage, sparkling rivers and pounding waterfalls. Eastern Jamaica’s largest town, Port Antonio, is an attractive destination in itself, but most visitors prefer to base themselves along the exquisite coastline heading east, containing fabulous beaches, the Blue Lagoon and a number of exquisite hotels. The surf-pounded stretches of sandy beach at Long Bay and Boston Bay are well-established destinations for budget travellers, who come for the waves and chilled-out atmosphere – while roadside vendors at Boston Bay also do a roaring trade in authentic jerk pork and chicken. The gorgeous waterfalls at Somerset Falls and Reach Falls are within striking distance wherever you stay, while heading into the John Crow Mountains in the interior you can be poled down the Rio Grande on a bamboo raft or hike through the rainforest along the centuries-old trails of the Windward Maroons.
Brief history
Portland’s history is distinctly one of boom and bust. The parish was officially formed in 1723, one of the last to be settled, despite Port Antonio being blessed with two natural harbours. Reports of the difficult terrain and the constant threat of Maroon warfare had deterred would-be settlers, though eventually the Crown was obliged to offer major incentives, including land grants, tax exemptions and free food supplies. The early economy was dependent on sugar until a surprise replacement crop – bananas – proved perfect for Portland’s fertile soil towards the end of the nineteenth century. Port Antonio boomed, ushering in a golden era of prosperity with businessmen pouring in, and in 1905 the town’s first hotel was built on the Titchfield peninsula. Cabin space on banana boats was sold to curious tourists, who rubbed shoulders with the rich and famous – publishing magnate William Randolph Hearst, banker J.P. Morgan, actress Bette Davis – swanning in on their private yachts.
The boom proved to be short-lived, though the high-end tourism it had helped to engender remained. With the enthusiastic patronage of movie stars like Errol Flynn, Port Antonio’s place in the glitterati’s global playground was assured, and Jamaica’s first luxury hotel was built at Frenchman’s Cove – to this day a testament to faded glamour. The movie business injected much-needed capital, too, in the 1980s and 1990s – films shot here include Cocktail, The Mighty Quinn, Club Paradise and Lord of the Flies. Celebrities still sequester themselves in Portland, but the area can’t compete with Montego Bay, Negril and Ocho Rios for mass tourism. Although Portland is a long way from the prosperity of its heyday, its natural water features and beauty spots are open to anyone who cares to find them – a lower-key Jamaica that’s a welcome change for many visitors travelling the island.
Bananas
Brought to Jamaica from the Canary Islands in 1520, the banana remarkably only became popular in 1871, when captain Lorenzo Dow Baker took a shipload of the foodstuff formerly deemed unpalatable from Port Antonio to Boston. His gamble paid off handsomely – the entire stock was sold for a healthy profit and mass demand ensued, earning him and others colossal fortunes. By the second half of the nineteenth century, sugar was already declining, and farmers rushed to plant the new “green gold”. With high rainfall and fertile soil Portland was perfectly placed, and armies of planters and pickers arrived to earn pitiful wages, living in wretched conditions while production output hit thirty million stems per year.
The arrival of banana ships at the wharves was signalled by blasts on a conch shell, followed by frenetic activity as the labourers cut stems and carried the fresh fruit off the estates and onto waiting trucks. At the dock, the banana stems were taken to the checkers, who ensured that each had the nine hands required to count as a bunch – hence, in the banana-boat song, Day O, “six hands, seven hands, eight hands, bunch!”. Once aboard the ship, the tallyman gave the carrier a tally to redeem for payment, and workers made their weary way back to the plantation or to the bar.
Sadly for Portland, the boom didn’t last – by the 1920s, Panama disease and hurricane damage had decimated the crop, and World War II compounded the problems. Today, the end of long-standing preferential trade terms with Europe has caused many farmers to abandon bananas (being unable to compete with huge US operations) and the days of the banana as an important export crop certainly look numbered.
East of Port Antonio
Made all the more alluring for its delicious sense of faded glamour and relative lack of visitors, the rugged stretch of coast east of Port Antonio is one of the most attractive parts of Jamaica. It’s a fairy-tale landscape of lush, jungle-smothered hills rolling down to a coastline studded with fantastic beaches, such as Frenchman’s Cove, San San and Winnifred, and swimming inlets like the Blue Lagoon, a fabulous aquamarine pool of salt and fresh water made famous by the eponymous 1980 movie. A series of super-smart hotels vie for business with a handful of less expensive guesthouses (though none are as cheap as you’ll find in town), while for eating you can plump for romantic international feasts accompanied by live jazz or mento at the salubrious restaurants of the region’s best hotels – most of which are open to non-guests – or more authentic Jamaican cooking at Winnifred Beach and the renowned jerk stands at Boston Bay.
Errol Flynn
For many, the bumpy six-kilometre route between Boston Bay and Long Bay, with its great views of pounding surf and rolling pastureland, will always be known as Errol Flynn country. The erstwhile screen idol bought a 2000-acre estate here in the 1950s, and his widow, Patrice Wymore, managed the groves of coconuts and guavas and its grazing beef cattle here until her death in 2014. The prime seafront property had already been on sale for some years, but her passing may well speed the pace of change.
By the time he arrived in Jamaica in 1947, Errol Flynn’s movie career was already in decline. The era of the swashbuckler was drawing to a close, and the Australian actor – star of classic movies like The Sea Hawk and Captain Blood – had begun to fall from favour with the studios. Nonetheless, coming ashore in his famed yacht Zaca (now moored in Monaco and allegedly still haunted by Flynn’s face and the sounds of a wild party), Flynn quickly worked his way into local legend. Well known for his powers of seduction, formidable drinking and addiction to gambling, the star reputedly lost Navy Island off Port Antonio in an unfortunate poker bet.
Flynn loved Jamaica, buying the Titchfield Hotel in Port Antonio, plus Navy Island, and later, with his third wife Patrice Wymore, setting up a ranch near Boston Bay. A string of celebrities attended the wild parties at his hotels – but unsuccessful efforts to resurrect his movie career and continuing bouts of heavy drinking and ill health were already taking their toll. During his final years, Flynn spent much of his time at Titchfield with the teenage actress Beverley Aadland. On his death in 1959, Aadland asked that Flynn be buried in Jamaica, but Wymore insisted that his body go to Hollywood. Today, despite the tarnishing of his reputation through tales of his exploitation of local girls, many people in the area remember the one-time heartthrob with affection.
The Blue Lagoon
The Blue Lagoon is where 14-year-old nymphet Brooke Shields (and now-obscure cherub Christopher Atkins), playing child castaways on a deserted island, frolicked naked in the movie of the same name. Enclosed by high cliffs and forest, which give a deep green tint to the noticeably turquoise depths, the lagoon is a result of several underwater streams running down from the mountains. The whole effect is very picture-postcard, and swimming here is serene, with a layer of chilly fresh water covering waves of warm sea below. The lagoon drops to 198ft at its deepest spot – just enough for World Freediving Champion David Lee to set the world record here: in 2002 he dived without assistance to 167ft in three minutes 45 seconds. Lee’s parents run scuba/watersports operator Lady G’Diver, which offers dive packages and courses in specialist freediving at the lagoon.
At the time of writing, facilities at the lagoon were nonexistent following a protracted land dispute – swimming is free, though touts inevitably cash in on parking fees (going over J$500 would be exorbitant). However, the lagoon’s western side was recently acquired by Lee Chin of Trident fame, and the seriously creative designers at Geejam are tasked with building a spectacular contemporary restaurant and villas in keeping with the serene surroundings, likely to open in 2016.
Winnifred Beach
Winnifred Beach (also known as Fairy Hill Beach) is one of the most appealing beaches in all Jamaica; to get there, turn left and then immediately right just east of the Jamaica Crest Hotel at the start of Fairy Hill village, following the road for a kilometre through a neat housing scheme before descending through the forest. You can drive right down onto the beach if it hasn’t been raining; if it has, park where the tarmac ends and continue on foot.
Used as the setting for the Robin Williams movie Club Paradise, the wide, golden crescent of sand is supremely laid-back and justly popular with Jamaicans. The small reef just offshore is perfect for snorkelling (you’ll need to bring your own gear) and protects the bay from the waves, ensuring clear, calm, bright-blue water that shelves gently from the sand. At weekends, local operator Scotty offers children’s horse rides along the sands, and fishermen will provide boat trips to nearby Monkey Island. At the western end, a small mineral spring offers a freshwater rinse (the changing facilities are best avoided).
Given Winnifred Beach’s secluded beauty it’s perhaps no surprise that the government attempted to authorize a private villa development here, threatening the beach’s public access like so many others on the north coast. Local resident Cynthia, co-proprietor of much-loved lunch spot Cynthia and Painter’s, has spearheaded the campaign to keep it public (wfree-winnifred.com). At the time of writing, six years since the dispute first arose, a court case was still under way to ensure public right of access. Unpaid locals currently manage and clean the beach, so you may be asked to pay a small unofficial “fee”. You’re under no obligation to pay (most Jamaicans refuse) – but there’s no harm in tipping people you see genuinely tidying up the place. Seek out Cynthia if you’d like to contribute to the campaign.
Port Antonio
The days of movie stars coming to stay in PORT ANTONIO are long gone, and these days the town feels a little isolated. That said, sandwiched between the mountains and the sea, this somewhat sleepy place has a charm all its own – there are many remaining timber buildings and with a smart new marina and plans to develop Navy Island and the Titchfield peninsula, things seem to be stirring once again. There’s not a huge amount to see here and there’s little in the way of watersports or shopping, but “Portie” is a friendly and beguiling place with a bustling central market and a couple of lively nightspots.
The town is easily navigable, with two main streets, and you can walk the handful of sights in a couple of hours. West Palm Avenue runs into West Street (from the western entrance of Port Antonio to the central clock tower), while Harbour Street cuts through the middle. To get your bearings, walk the steep climb up to the now defunct Bonnie View Hotel from the town centre; while the hotel itself is now closed you’ll get a great view over the entire town.
Most people find Port Antonio something of a relief after the harassment of the north coast, and any hassle you do encounter tends to be fairly half-hearted. Even so, don’t wander off the main streets after dark, and also be wary of police roadblocks east of town.
The Rio Grande valley
Portland’s interior – the Rio Grande valley – is a fantastically lush and partially impenetrable hinterland of tropical rainforest and waterfalls. The Rio Grande, one of Jamaica’s major rivers, pours down from the John Crow Mountains through a deep and unspoilt valley of virgin forest. Despite its beauty, the area is little explored; many people do rafting trips, but there is also superb river and mountain hiking.
Many of the rivers and springs here are named after local Maroon leaders – Nanny, Quao, Quashie and Quako – and the major remaining Maroon settlement is Moore Town. If you’re craving rustic isolation, some of the other villages beyond have lovely settings and fascinating names – Alligator Church, Comfort Castle – indeed, the only thing holding up booming ecotourism here is the abominable road, which in its higher reaches is barely navigable by car.
Rafting the Rio Grande
Once a means of transporting bananas, rafting down the majestic Rio Grande is now Portland’s most popular attraction, ever since Errol Flynn raced with his friends in the 1950s. It’s a delightfully lazy way to spend half a day, although the sun can get fierce.
From the put-in point at Berridale, ten kilometres southwest of Port Antonio, the thirty-foot bamboo rafts (each with a raised seat) meander down the river for two hours through outstanding scenery, poled downstream by a captain and stopping periodically for swimming, waterfall hunting or to buy snacks. Tickets are sold at Rio Grande Experience in Berridale (daily 9am–4pm; US$78/raft; t993 5778) and by hotels and tour offices in Port Antonio. The trip is one-way, terminating at Rafters’ Rest in St Margaret’s Bay, so if you’re driving, leave your car at Berridale and have an insured driver take it down for US$15, or else use a taxi – to Berridale and then back to Port Antonio from Rafters Rest costs around US$30. If you’re desperate to save cash, the Berridale route taxi from Port Antonio (J$220) runs close by the put-in point, and route taxis to Port Antonio from Kingston and Buff Bay pass the entrance to Rafters’ Rest regularly.
A recent popular addition to the trip downriver is to arrange a lunch en route cooked by master chef Belinda, who descends on foot from the hills with the freshest ingredients and cooks delights like curried fish, jerk pork or crayfish right there on the river bank. Order through your hotel or call Belinda directly on t389 8826.
You’ll also find people touting unofficial rafting trips in Port Antonio and St Margaret’s Bay for a lower price. Don’t hand over the cash until you’ve finished the journey at Rafters’ Rest, and don’t go with anyone who makes you feel uncomfortable.
St Thomas
St Thomas, nestling below the Blue Mountains, is the most neglected of Jamaica’s parishes, and as a result, its villages are somewhat impoverished with meagre facilities for tourists. For some, however, the region offers a slice of the “real” Jamaica, untouched by the demands of tourism. The main attractions are the rambling old spa town of Bath in the foothills of the mountains, and also remote Morant Point, where a candy-striped lighthouse overlooks a stunning beach. A couple of waterfalls in other areas are interesting diversions, though there’s little to do in the parish capital, Morant Bay, except to reflect on one of the bloodiest periods in Jamaica’s volatile history. The parish’s friendly people remain probably the biggest draw; large-scale sound-system parties and stageshows (such as the excellent roots-reggae East Fest, held in late December/early January) are to be found on public holidays, and, largely due to the presence of the descendants of free Africans, St Thomas is the cradle of Jamaica’s African-based religions, with roadside Kumina sessions found frequently.
Bath
The little-visited village of BATH stands at the edge of the John Crow Mountains. Born when a runaway Spanish slave stumbled across hot mineral springs in the late 1690s, it was discovered that the waters could cure wounds. Ironically, the same slave’s master sold the spring and some 1130 acres of land surrounding it to the British in 1699 for £400; they swiftly carved a road through the hills and erected a spa building here in 1747.
Bath Botanical Gardens
In the 1700s, Bath glittered in the colonial spotlight, but just a century later it fell from grace through a combination of political disputes and hurricane damage. A reminder of its heyday is to be found at the Bath Botanical Gardens established in 1779, adjacent to the dilapidated Anglican church. This was where many plants – including cinnamon, jacaranda, bougainvillea and mango – were first introduced to the island, but the ravages of time and Hurricane Gilbert (which levelled the village for the second time in 1988) have ensured that little remains of the carefully ordered labels. You’ll still see descendants of the breadfruit trees brought from Tahiti by Captain Bligh of HMS Bounty fame in 1793, alongside guava trees, royal palms, bamboo and crotons. The annual breadfruit festival in September commemorates the seminal event in Jamaican history.
Bath Fountain Spa
Taking the waters at the rambling old Bath Fountain Hotel and Spa remains the main attraction for visitors to the village. The spa has ten small cubicles, each with a sunken tiled bath. The water is high in sulphur and lime and, like most mineral baths, slightly (though not dangerously) radioactive – no more than thirty minutes is recommended due to the risk of dehydration.
Bear in mind that outside the hotel and spa you will most likely be accosted by a group of aggressive hustlers offering to take you to the open-air spring at the hotel’s rear; while this hot and cold “Sulphur River” is a pleasant spot (water from the two springs is diverted to the spa inside and mixed to provide a bath of a more even temperature), the unofficial “guides” most certainly are not, and their amateur massages are inevitably exorbitantly priced.
Hiking trails lead from the spa for kilometres across the Blue Mountains; the best is the Cunha Cunha Maroon trading route through the John Crow range to Bowden Pen – for a guide contact the Jamaica Conservation and Development Trust or Sun Venture Tours.
The breadfruit and the Bounty
Up until the late eighteenth century, Jamaica was not self-sufficient in food, relying on imports to feed the ever-increasing slave population. As a result, the American War of Independence (1775–81), which severely disrupted food supplies, brought tragedy, with thousands dying of malnutrition and related disease. To eliminate this catastrophic dependence, planters lobbied the British government for a source of cheap food that could be grown locally. The starchy, nourishing breadfruit – about which Captain Cook had rhapsodized, “If a man plants ten of them…he will completely fulfil his duty to his own and future generations” – was at the top of their wish list.
Setting sail from England in 1787, the HMS Bounty commanded by Captain William Bligh, was assigned the task of procuring breadfruit plants from their native Tahiti. After a dangerous journey around Cape Horn, captain and crew were garlanded with flowers before loading up the breadfruit plants and moving on. Three weeks later, on another arduous crossing with a captain who seemed to care more for his plants than for his men, the ship’s crew mutinied. Bligh was cast adrift in the Pacific with a handful of loyal followers, while the rest made for Ascension Island and their place in history. Incredibly, Bligh survived. He found his way back to England, where he was cleared of any blame and entrusted with another ship, HMS Providence, to complete his mission. The Jamaican House of Assembly conferred him a substantial gift of 500 guineas to encourage his endeavours, and the Providence left England in 1791, finally delivering the breadfruit to the island in February 1793. The plants were propagated at Bath Botanical Gardens and eventually spread throughout the island, an important step towards Jamaican self-sufficiency.
Three Finger Jack
A roadside marker at the village of ELEVEN MILES recalls Jack Mansong (known as Three Finger Jack), a formidable nineteenth-century runaway slave who, after the bungled attempted murder of the slave trader who’d transported his parents from Africa – one Captain Henry Harrop – escaped from his execution, carrying Harrop to a cave where, with delicious irony, he forced his master to become his slave. Fuelled by the promise of a rich reward, Quashie, the Maroon who had relieved Mansong of his fingers, shot him in the stomach and cut off his head, preserving it in a bucket of rum all the way to Spanish Town.
The Morant Bay Rebellion
In August 1865, Baptist Deacon Paul Bogle – supported by George William Gordon, a wealthy mulatto member of the National Assembly – led a 87-kilometre march from St Thomas to Spanish Town to protest to the island’s governor, Edward Eyre, over legal inequity, which invariably supported white landholders over small farmers who struggled to find decent land to cultivate. A generation after emancipation, living conditions for Jamaica’s black population remained abysmal, with food shortages, lack of access to property and high taxation, and it was only a matter of time before people registered their grievances. After being turned away, the marchers returned to St Thomas with plans to create a “state within a state” at Stony Gut, Bogle’s home village. Worried by the force of the uprising, the police had two of Bogle’s supporters arrested on trumped-up charges of assault and trespass. On October 7, Bogle and his men marched to Morant Bay in military fashion and disrupted proceedings by surrounding the courthouse. Despite the protest’s peaceful nature, the authorities issued a warrant for Bogle’s arrest – yet the police were thwarted by the sheer power of numbers and forced to swear oaths that they would no longer serve public officials.
The colonial authority’s response
Undeterred, on October 10, eight more policemen set out for Stony Gut, but again they underestimated Bogle’s support and were quickly overpowered and forced to swear allegiance to him. Back in Morant Bay, they impressed the seriousness of the situation on then-Custos Baron Von Ketelhadt, who promptly arranged for one hundred soldiers to set sail aboard the HMS Wolverine from Kingston. On October 11, Bogle and his men again marched into Morant Bay, raided the police station for arms and attacked the courthouse where the council was meeting. Eighteen soldiers and council members were killed as frustrations erupted; the courthouse was burnt to the ground, and arms, gunpowder and foodstuffs were taken from the town’s shops. Unrest quickly spread, and the government troops aboard the Wolverine arrived too late to quell the disturbance when they put ashore on October 12. Fearing that the whole country would soon be engulfed, the authorities gave free rein to the army, and the protesters were crushed with brutal ferocity. A staggering 437 people were executed, another six hundred men and women flogged, and over a thousand homes razed to the ground. Bogle evaded capture and fled to the hills, where he remained undetected for several days. In Kingston, Governor Eyre declared martial law in St Thomas and wrote a warrant for the arrest of George William Gordon, who was hanged outside the Morant Bay courthouse on October 20. There was nowhere for Bogle to hide; he was captured at Stony Gut on October 23 and went to the gallows two days later. His last words quoted slave leader Sam Sharpe from 1831: “I would rather die upon yonder gallows than live in slavery.”
Jamaica after the rebellion
The rebellion marked a key political and social watershed for Jamaica. Governor Eyre was immediately recalled to England and stripped of his position, and the island came under direct rule from Britain until reforms in education and the legal system could be put into place – policies that never would have got past the local elite. Though progress for the poor was still painfully slow, Bogle’s defiant legacy ensured that Jamaica remained relatively peaceful until well into the next century. The Jamaican government eventually recognized Paul Bogle (and George William Gordon) as National Heroes, and monuments to them stand in National Heroes Park in Kingston.
The southeast tip
The far southeastern corner of the island, beyond Bath and Port Morant, is a seamless feast of banana, sugar and coconut plantations, the least developed yet one of the most picturesque corners of Jamaica. The slightly dishevelled communities of Golden Grove and Duckenfield hold neat but dilapidated rows of homes on stilts, accommodating cane cutters working at the Duckenfield sugar plantation, while Rocky Point Bay has a delightfully secluded beach and a fleet of small fishing boats.
Morant Point
The cane fields and the mangroves of the Great Morass, a wide, forested wetland, lead to the serenely isolated hundred-foot Morant Point lighthouse (ask locals for directions from the Duckenfield sugar factory; the route is sometimes impassable in the rainy season except by 4WD). The lighthouse itself was cast in London in 1841 and put up here by Kru men from Sierra Leone, among the first free Africans to be brought to the island after the abolition of slavery. Tip the lighthouse keeper to climb to the top; deserted and windswept, with Atlantic surf crashing onto the rocks, there’s a magnificent panorama of the Blue Mountains, the vast mangrove swamp and gorgeous Holland Bay, a deserted swath of fine white sand and pellucid water overlooked by a few ragged palms – the perfect place to live out your Robinson Crusoe fantasies. If you can’t face the drive, arrange a tour here overland with Our Story Tours or by boat with Zion Country Cottages.