Come Back to Jamaica

When I was about 7 or 8 years old, my parents took us on a family vacation to Montego Bay, Jamaica. My parents loved to travel and we took several trips every year, but this particular vacation I remember like it was yesterday.  We stayed at the very stately Chatham Beach Hotel with its large white pillars in the front.  I remember the hot pink bikini that I wore when I swam in the pool.  My brother, Jim, took a black and white photo of me with my arms hanging onto the cement of the pool deck and my wet hair slicked back.  That picture has long since been lost over the years, but I can still see the pink swimsuit with its blue and yellow stripe.

I remember the walk across the street to the beach and the glass bottom boat ride.  Our captain and guide was Eggbert.  He showed us lots of fish pointing through the floor of the small rickety boat, then jumped over  into the water and swam down underneath with a sea urchin in his hand, shredded it open, and fish all ate right off his palm.  Watching those tropical fish was amazing to me, and very memorable.  My mom and I walked to the straw market where she traded my little sundresses and sandals for straw bags and had my hair braided in corn rows.  My scalp got sunburned.  And all of my classmates knew I had been someplace exotic when I got back to school!

I had my first jerk pork served steaming straight from an oil drum and washed it down with fruit punch. We stood around under the thatched roof of the jerk hut eating until we were all stuffed.  My brother, Dan, picked a red hibiscus and stuck it behind my ear.  I wore it as we walked back to the hotel in the humid tropical air.

About 10 years later, my Dad decided that we should take a family cruise before we all went our separate ways and we could still make the time to be together.  One of our stops was Ocho Rios.  We floated down the Martha Brae on a bamboo raft and ate jerk pork at Scotchies - this time with a Red Stripe.  It was a wonderful vacation.

Several years ago while I was standing in line at airport security, I struck up a conversation with the gentleman in front of me.  I was on a business trip to a convention in Las Vegas and he was flying back home to Jamaica.  He handed me an extra large postcard advertisement for a restaurant and told me that he owned the Houseboat Grill in Montego Bay.  He invited me to stop by if I was ever in the area.  When I got home from Vegas and unpacked, I put that card on my vision board, knowing that someday I wanted to travel back to Jamaica.

Fast forward about another 5 years.  I meet Bruce, we fall in love and get married, blending together our large and busy family.  Our house is full of love and laughter, lots of groceries and laundry, and lots of fun.  One year later, I woke up and realized that in just a few short days, all the kids will be...somewhere else!  Summer camp, at Grandma’s house...off. Gone. Away.  “What are we going to do, Bruce?” “Let’s take a trip!” he says and then looks at the Houseboat Grill postcard on my vision board.  So, a few days later, we boarded a plant and off to Jamaica we went!

We had a fabulous time.  We rented a car and went from one side of the island to the other.  We climbed Dunn’s River Falls, saw the Doctor Birds at Rocklands Bird Sanctuary, went snorkeling in Mo Bay, ate jerk pork at Scotchies, floated down the Martha Brae, swam in Luminous Lagoon, climbed YS Falls, and took a boat out to the Pelican Bar. Yes, we even found the Houseboat Grill and had dinner there. And every morning at breakfast and every night after dinner I got to drink Blue Mountain Coffee - the best in the world. If we didn’t have kids waiting for us at home, we might never have come back.