Jamaica 2016 Day 3. Discovery Bay

Today I headed east along the coast, past a gauntlet of resorts strewn over a distance of 20 km. The entrances are zealously guarded by tall walls and forbidding doors, but you can still see the general layout, which in some instances resemble small, tightly packed towns with domes and minarets.

Leaving behind the beautiful people I reached the town of Falmouth, which in its time was the seat of British colonial wealth. The town retains some of its Georgian architecture, much battered by time and neglect. I walked a bit in the old downtown, where the old market still stands, but it was early and most of the stalls were closed. The courthouse and a couple of churches are silent witnesses to the past importance of the town, but overall I was under-impressed. It was here, however, that I found Juici Patties, a chain that specializes in the baking of empanadas or patties filled with a mush of beef, chicken, or veggies. I enjoyed all of them as a much delayed breakfast, and my outlook of the town definitely changed for the better.

My next stop was Discovery Bay, where presumably Columbus first made landfall in 1494. I stopped at Columbus Park, and availed myself of the services of a local historian, who explained that, because of the limestone terrain, there are no surface creeks, so Columbus was much annoyed at not finding water to replenish his supplies and thus called it Bahia Seca (Dry Bay). He also confirmed that it was during his third voyage that he made landfall in Jamaica. The park also contained an odd exhibition of artifacts from the 200 years when Jamaica was a lead producer of sugar and bananas for the Brits. Among them was a tally machine that inspired Harry Belafonte’s song:

   Come, Mister tally man, tally me banana

   Daylight come and me wan' go home

   Come, Mister tally man, tally me banana

   Daylight come and me wan' go home

   Lift six foot, seven foot, eight foot bunch

   Daylight come and me wan' go home

   Six foot, seven foot, eight foot bunch

   Daylight come and me wan' go home

My informant made a very credible imitation of Belafonte and had me in stitches.

Another claim to fame of Discovery Bay is that it is the loading point of the bauxite that is another of the big exports of Jamaica. As I was there a big ship, named Pangea, was being loaded with the orange bauxite powder, which tints everything around the loading dock, the conveyor belts, and the gigantic silos where it is stored prior to loading. The ship looked to me that it was listing heavily to port, and did not look particularly seaworthy, but I guess they would not use a cruise ship to transport ore.

I went a little farther, to Runaway Bay, so named after the slaves that attempted to escape from the island, and finally got a chance to walk in a public beach. Beautiful, but I had to fend the many offers of marijuana by enterprising locals.

Tired of the coastal road I turned inland, along one of the many twisting roads that cut through the luxuriant vegetation. It was a joy ride, without the benefit of a single road sign, so imagine my surprise when all of a sudden I found my self in Brown’s Town, birthplace (and now also resting place) of the famous Bob Marley. It is a typical mountain town, precariously hanging from the steep sides of the mountain, with a bustling market place. Unfortunately there are no signs that the town remembers its most famous son, and had it not been for a rusted sign outside a residence that read “Bob Marley’s Mausoleum”. I would have never guessed.

The way back home was pleasant, with at least one fantastic outcrop showing a pinchout in the folded limestone sequence, and got me home in time to enjoy a swim in the pool of my villa, an easy conversation with my fellow lodgers, and finally a short ride to the Seafood Speak-EZ, where I dined on conch stew and a Red Stripe beer by the seaside, while listening to music and the happy sounds of the locals.