THE BACK SEASIDE
(Skinny Dipping On God’s Own Golf
Course)
We
arrived at Viking’s house at dusk. We
met Viking, some of his family members, and the other guests, who were lounging
around the property enjoying the breeze.
Viking is a tall Rasta with impressive knee-length braids. We met his daughters, his brother, and some
other relatives that live with Viking and in an adjacent house. The other guests included Steve, who looked a
lot like Jerry Garcia. Steve owns some
undeveloped property nearby, but is living with Viking long-term. He actually grew up in Kingston, but lived in
Vancouver, Canada for 20 years. Also
staying there were three young girls from Finland who had just arrived from
several days of hard partying in Kingston.
We
checked into our room upstairs. It was
basic, but nice, with windows on three sides allowing a fantastic
cross-breeze. The room had its own bath,
along with a mini-fridge. We unpacked
and then headed over to the central part of Treasure Beach for dinner. We ended up at Jake’s, which is a hotel with
a pool and restaurant on the ocean-front.
We sat outside and had a nice meal at reasonable prices. We then drove back to Viking’s and went to
bed early after a long day in the car.
We
didn’t get up early enough on Wednesday.
Christy went for a run at 7:30, which was way too late to beat the
heat. We were now on the hot, dry side
of the island, which features a lot less vegetation and a lot more sun. After she returned we had some buns we’d
picked up earlier for breakfast. Then we
drove to the far end of Great Bay and part way up the Pedro Bluff for our hike.
Our
plan was to hike The Back Seaside, an undeveloped stretch of coastline
extending from Great Bay east to the cliffs of Lovers Leap. My guidebook provided a brief description of
the area, which had been more than enough to get my attention. According to the book, a local resident had
been quoted as describing The Back Seaside as “God’s own golf course”. I’m not into golf, but I was still intrigued.
We
had asked Viking and Steve about hiking there the previous evening. The general consensus was that the hike was
well worth doing. The land, like most in
Jamaica, is privately owned. Viking told
us to stop at the store after leaving Great Bay, part of the way up Pedro
Bluff. He suggested that we ask the
owner for permission to cross his property, and mentioned that he was friends
with him.
We
took Viking’s advice, and also purchased a lunch and some cold drinks to take
with us. We knew we were in for a hot
hike. In hindsight, we should’ve done
this hike first thing in the morning.
We
crawled under the barbed wire fence next to the store and wandered through a
goat pen and into the field beyond. From
there we followed an old double-track through the grass under a line of swaying
palm trees. The setting was pastoral,
with knee-high grass and grazing goats as far as the eye could see. The palm trees seemed wildly out of place
though, and it made it feel like we were walking through a Dr. Suess book.
We
climbed gently to the crest of Pedro Bluff.
From there we could see the Caribbean spreading out below us, both ahead
and behind. We wandered down through the
pastures, with no specific destination in mind, but the cool blue water
beckoning.
We
eventually drifted down to an isolated cove with a small, rocky beach. It was an idyllic spot, without any sign of
civilization. This stretch of coast was
being pounded by the surf, so swimming wasn’t really an option. That hardly seemed to matter though. We’d walked less than an hour, but Christy
immediately decided that there was no reason hike any farther. Surely it couldn’t get any better.
It
turns out she was wrong. She decided to
lounge there in the sun while I hiked on.
I picked up a footpath on a small bluff above the water. Here I was just above the spray of the
crashing waves. The palm trees
disappeared here, but were replaced by an assortment of cacti. This included Barrel Cactus, as well a tall
variety that looked like a small army of Gumbies.
After
a few minutes I reached a deep cove which was a bit of an obstacle. Fortunately the tide was out enough that I
was able to scramble down into it and dash across between the waves without
getting wet. Climbing up the far side
required a bit of a scramble, but it wasn’t too dramatic.
I
reached a point a few minutes later and turned a corner. I walked through more lush grass before
cresting a minor ridge. From here the
entire coastline stretched out before me, all the way to the foot of the
dramatic cliffs of Lovers Leap. Those
cliffs, which represent the southern end of the Santa Cruz Mountains, tower a
couple of thousand feet directly above the sea.
It’s an impressive landscape that wouldn’t look out of place along a
wild stretch of the California coastline.
I
hiked that direction, passing isolated coves, deserted beaches, and more
cacti. Some areas featured prominent
reefs just offshore, which hinted at places that might be safe to swim or
snorkel. One cove featured a small but
deep pool that was tempting to jump into.
My only hesitation was that the steep sides of the cove looked tricky to
climb out of.
I
hiked on, until I began following a rock ledge on a low cliff directly above
the surf. I weaved through massive
boulders as I closed in on Lovers Leap.
Unfortunately I wasn’t closing in on it fast enough. I’d told Christy I’d be back by lunch time,
and I was rapidly nearing my turnaround time.
I hiked for a few minutes more before finally doubling back to the beach
where I’d left her.
We
had lunch and then Christy accompanied me as we walked back out towards Lovers
Leap to check out the swimming possibilities.
We found one area that was somewhat protected by a reef and decided to
give it a try.
We
walked down through the rocks to the edge of the water. I didn’t have a bathing suit, but didn’t
really see a need for one. I decided to
go in “Al Fresco”. For some reason I
turned my back to the sea before I dropped my shorts. Apparently Poseidon didn’t care much for
being mooned. Just after turning my
back, a rogue wave roared in, dousing me from the waist down and soaking the
shorts that were down around ankles. I
attempted to swim anyway, but the rogue wave was a sign. The surf became rough, and after only a
minute or so I realized that the current had pushed me a considerable distance
west along the shore. I scrambled out of
the water, conceding defeat to that failed experiment.
We
walked back to our lunch spot and headed out from there. It was now early afternoon, and the heat was
brutal. It was so hot the palm trees
seemed to dance around us. Christy
actually looked dazed. We stumbled back
to the store where we’d started and purchased more cold drinks. We waited until we could see straight before
driving back to Viking’s House.
We
spent the rest of the afternoon on a small beach a couple hundred yards from
the house. We joined the girls from
Finland, who looked like they’d spent the whole day there. I’m not sure how, as it was hardly
pleasant. Heavy winds resulted in blowing
sand, which was borderline painful. The
small cove just off the beach did allow us to get wet, but it was far too small
to do any serious swimming.
That
evening we relaxed in a hammock and enjoyed the breeze under a full moon. Later Steve made a cauldron of homemade
vegetable stew that was delicious. We
accompanied the meal with the rest of the Sprite and Appleton rum we’d
purchased earlier in the week.
JOLLY MON
I
got up at 7:45 the next morning to run.
That wasn’t nearly early enough, as it was already brutally hot. I still managed to run a series of back roads
all the way to Jake’s and back (about 4 miles round trip). I had a dog join me for part of the run, but
the locals were definitely looking at me like I was crazy to be running in that
heat. It’s possible they were right.
I
made it back to Viking’s in time to shower before breakfast. Viking made a nice meal that included
biscuits, porridge, and fried plantains among other things. We spent the morning lounging around, more
often than not in hammocks. Later I
wandered down to the beach and took a few photos.
That
afternoon we drove in to central Treasure Beach for lunch. We had some good pizza at Jack Sprat’s and
then walked down the beach a short distance before squandering away the rest of
the afternoon. The stretch of coast
features some sheltered areas for swimming, though we didn’t attempt any
snorkeling.
That
evening we drove up to Lover’s Leap for dinner and sunset. The cliffs of Lover’s Leap offer a bird’s-eye
view over Treasure Beach and the surrounding coast. It was a fair drive up there, lengthened by a
couple of wrong turns along the way. We
finally found the official overlook and restaurant, both
of which were closed for repairs.
Sigh. We drove around looking for
other viewpoints, but didn’t find any that wouldn’t have involved driving down
somebody’s driveway. Eventually we gave
up and drove back down to Treasure Beach.
We ended up back at Jack Sprat’s, a couple of hours after we’d
left. We had a nice meal, and ironically
were treated to a spectacular sunset from our table on the edge of the beach. I can’t imagine that it was any better up at
Lover’s Leap.
We
enjoyed another wonderful, breezy evening.
Late that night there was some brief rain, which was a novelty. It was the first (and only) rain during our
weeklong trip to Jamaica during the rainy season.
We
checked out on Friday morning and bid Steve, Viking, and family farewell. We drove back into Treasure Beach, where we
discovered that the restaurant I’d picked out of the guidebook for breakfast
was now the “Smurf Bar”. I’m not sure
exactly what a Smurf Bar is, but the building had blue Smurfs painted all over
it. Anywhere outside of Jamaica that
would’ve been rather unusual. Here, it
hardly seemed worth getting the camera out for.
We
considered Jack Sprats, but decided that eating three meals at the same
restaurant in less than 24 hours was a bit absurd. We wound up at another ocean-front
restaurant, which opened just as we arrived (at 8am). Things move at a rather relaxed pace in
Jamaica, and that starts with breakfast.
Back to Jamaica
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Please remember to Leave No Trace!