The Globe and Mail TRAVEL

Saturday, October 14, 2002

Deep in the mountainous interior, far from the tour groups and package resorts, KIM GERTLER finds the island’s most fascinating and misunderstood people gently opening their doors to tourism

Marooned in Jamaica.

PORT ANTONIO, JAMAICA. – Too many tourists come to Jamaica to spend a week sequestered behind the walls of an all-inclusive resort. But for those who actually want to experience the country, there’s a whole island of adventure beyond the buffet and the bar – and the historic town of Port Antonio with its local villages of the Maroon people is a great place to start.

Port Antonio is where the whole idea of tropical tourism started, back in the 1890’s when a Boston-based fruit trader began bringing tourists here in his empty banana boats. Now, after years of being relatively unknown, the town is back again: There’s a new 15 million dollar (US) marina and waterfront, hotels are busy renovating and the jewel of its harbour, Navy Island, which was closed to tourists for years, will soon be redeveloped, probably as a five star spa resort.

Filed under: “best kept secret” to a select group of smart people who quietly return here again and again, Port Antonio has been the ‘it’ spot before. In the forties and fifties well-heeled socialites and movie stars such as Errol Flynn made the town their Caribbean ‘pied-a-terre’. The swashbuckling Flynn, left his mark here – snapping up choice properties, like Navy Island (local legend says he won it in a card game), hosting famous guests (including Noel Coward, Ian Fleming) and even more famous parties. He is credited by some for starting the rafting craze on the Rio Grande River. Hollywood has had an on-location affair with Port Antonio ever since and it has appeared in dozens of films. Flynn’s widow, Pat still lives here, running a large farm and is very much part of the local landscape.

Arriving from Kingston, it’s a two-and-a-half hour drive to Port Antonio, but once you get here – you’ll be glad you made the trek. Whether you take the squiggly cross-mountain route or the coast-hugging highway, the drive offers stunning vistas – dotted with small towns along the way. Fruit stands, brightly coloured rum huts, school kids walking home in crisp uniforms and ruminating goats provide a relaxing come down from airport stress.

I began my trip with a one –night stay at Port Antonio’s Fern Hill Club Hotel. Wedged in a high roost in the hills that cascade dramatically down to the sea, these 31 rooms have some of the best views on the North Coast. My deck overlooked Frenchman’s Cove, an immaculately maintained private villa estate developed in the fifties by Canadian biscuit baron Garfield Weston. The cove features a beautiful little beach where warm ocean water is spiked with cool jets from underground springs. Although there is a small entrance fee for use of the beach, it is well worth it.

Down the road is the famous Blue Lagoon, which was believed for years to be ‘bottomless’. This electric turquoise ocean pool is actually between 70 – 76 metres deep. The astonishing colour comes from freshwater minerals that bubble up into the salty lagoon., Everyone from Jacques Cousteau to Eddie Murphy has tested its waters.

Surrounding Port Antonio is the parish of Portland, where rainforest, beach and mountain provide a fitting setting for a dramatic culture and history peopled by aristocrats, pirates and mysterious mountain bushmen. From here – dozens of great adventures- ranging from eco to macho are within a day’s reach. Visitors can hike to hidden waterfalls in the lush green mountains, explore the ruins of a fallen seaside castle, go deep-sea fishing for blue marlin, tour a coffee plantation, take a plummeting mountain bike descent, and raft through a tropical rainforest.

Or, they can meet the Maroons. Jamaica’s most fascinating and misunderstood people, they are rooted to this region with a history that dates back centuries. Now these reclusive people, who have lived in their own settlements, deep in the island’s mountainous interior since the 1600’s, have gently opened their doors to tourism for the first time.

Jamaica’s Maroons arrived at the island from West Africa in the 1500s. Refusing to be pressed into slavery they fled deep into the mountains – lived off the land, and successfully eluded capture by the Spanish and the British. Empowered by an intense knowledge of their terrain, they were greatly feared by their foes that believed them to possess supernatural powers derived from the African occult science known as Obeah. (Depending who you speak to, Obeah is described as a type of black magic, witchcraft, or religion.)

There are the legends of Maroon warriors disappearing straight into the rock façade behind a waterfall, or transforming themselves into trees before slitting the throats of the red-coated British troops who marched single-file into the forest.

Led by the infamous Nanny, the only woman amongst Jamaica’s national heroes, they not only eluded capture but became a royal nuisance -- raiding plantations, stealing cattle, burning crops, freeing other slaves and inflicting many casualties on the British colonists who after almost a century of war, in 1739, sought a treaty of peace. To this day, the Maroons live a quiet, proud and tax-free existence nestled in the same mountain valleys that played witness to their epic struggles.

Visiting the Maroon settlements takes some time. After spending about two hours on a tiny road snaking up and still further up the Rio Grande valley, we finally reach the settlement of Moore Town, where we stop to admire the monument to Nanny. The town is peaceful, almost deserted. with people quietly moving about their business around small homes nestled in the nearby hills.

A few kilometers farther up the valley in the adjacent burg of Cornwall Barracks we arrive at Sister Ivelyn Blossom Harris’ Guest Cottage and Herbal Bush Bath House. This is about as far from an all-inclusive as you can get. There’s no room service. No breakfast buffet. No TV. No pina coladas. And no hassles. This is the other Jamaica – that most tourists, indeed, most Jamaicans don’t see.

Sister Ivelyn Blossom Harris is the ninth direct descendant of the great Maroon leader Nanny’. Locals call her Nanny of the Maroons. In addition to running the guesthouse she is a herbal healer or bush doctor. She possesses rare knowledge about the indigenous bushes and plants and has a salve for every ailment, and a saying for every situation. She has written her own account of Maroon history and is an accomplished artist and craftsperson. Articulate, humorous, energetic and generous, she is a great host-- and a great cook

We feast on Jerk chicken and Dasheen yams, dug up right before dinner from Ivey’s garden. Maroons, invented Jerk, the allspice-laden aromatic seasoning and cooking technique not just to season but also to preserve their meat – most often wild boar. After a dessert of fresh-picked pineapple, we savour a cup of bush tea to awaken the senses.

Night is falling as the peenie-wallies (fireflies) escort us along the 2 1/2 kilometre walk down a near-deserted road. We arrive at an outdoor yard where a man named Isaac is rubbing over proof rum on his goatskin drum, which he then tightens with a sort of wooden mallet. By the time he is tuned up – a group of dancers slowly gathers for the nights performance and begins to groove.

Two drums that sound like water stretch through the starry night sky. African chanting begins. The experience intensifies and a dozen dancers seem to half collapse to the beat.

During a brief pause in the proceedings, I learn from Ivey that Maroons believe in reincarnation and that the dancers and drummers are communing with ‘the ancestors’. When this happens, it’s not uncommon for them to “catch a Myall” or to slip into a deep sort of trance state.

The next day I am met by a George, a local guide who leads me on a picturesque four kilometer tromp through the mountain underbrush. Most of the trails are used by farmers to reach their fields or to visit neighboring villages and are only a metre wide. We pass through wide banana fields, thick mahogany stands and dark groves of creaking bamboo before reaching the edge of a sharp wooded descent into a roaring gully. Legend has it that this was the favourite chill out spot of the great Nanny herself. Water gushes over a sheer multi-coloured stone wall into a cool pool where we immediately take a nice dip.

Returning late afternoon, I am thrilled to discover that it is my turn to experience the ultimate expression of Ivey’s therapeutic healing – the herbal bath. In my absence she has spent hours culling and trimming five different herbs from her own garden.

I begin to savour the wild earthy aromas, as Ivey pours the huge pot of water into the tub. She leaves me, instructing me to add some cold water and not to stay in more than 25 minutes. Slipping into the water I immediately experience a clinging sensation – as though the water was sucking the evils of the city from deep within my skin. A few minutes later I start to tingle and I can’t help but smile. Could I be catching a Myall?

Kim Gertler is producing an independent film on the Maroons and Herbal Medicine called “Lady Bushdoctor”

< Photographs by Kim Gertler >