Jamaican resorts won’t let us in! New tactics required.

Wednesday 4 Mar, Jamaica day 10: Morning in Oracabessa where goldeneye confusion reigns! Then sail to Ocho Rios.

We wake to not much wind and clear sky. The colours of our surrounding really stand out beautifully today. But going to be a hot one for sure. Oana is regaining her strength pretty quickly now and is up for having a walk ashore. We are anchored in a small bay right next to the Goldeneye resort, made on the grounds of what used to be Ian Fleming’s land and his house Goldeneye. Being 007 fans, we are very keen to have a look around.

So after breakfast, before it gets too hot, we put the outboard on the Highfield and tootle over to the resort’s dock. But rather than stop there we venture under a very low bridge and into the narrow channel that surrounds Santa Maria island. Years ago this was apparently a marina. But now it’s just overgrown by mangroves, with the odd rotting jetty sticking out into the shallow channel. As we proceed we realise we are now actually inside the resort.
There are small wooden houses along the channel’s edge, each with a small dock and kayaks tied up. It’s all rather rustic but somehow very quaint too. It’s like a little lost colourful world. We kind of expect monkeys to swing out the trees any moment! Half way around the little island channel there is another channel that leads out to the sea with a foot bridge over it. And next to the bridge we can see into the resort’s lovely beaches and beach restaurant on the seaward side.

But when we go to tie up the dinghy, someone tells us we need to check in with security, back where we entered. So back we go, this time via the other side of the gone-wild Santa Maria island. Close to the entrance a security guard spots us and runs to tell us to leave. So we return to the bay, under the low bridge again, and tie up the dinghy on their dock. But security won’t let us walk in. We tried all the usual lines but these guys are professionals! Eventually, one security lady calls a manager and passes us her phone.
The manager’s instructions are clear and assertive: we cannot enter unless we have a pre-booking. And in any case, with their current occupancy it’s not possible for visitors to enter. Pffff, “current occupancy”? There were zero people on the beach and only a couple of the villas with any sign of life in them. Still, there was no arguing. So we leave feeling rather thwarted and that somehow we have lost our touch! Maybe I should have used the line “you do realise that we are personal friends with James Bond? You’re making a big mistake not letting us in”!

Next, we tootle to the opposite side of the bay to find James Bond Beach, where a scene from “Dr. No” was apparently filmed. It’s hard to believe though. The beach is tiny with not much character. Anyhow, we tied the dinghy to a dive center dock and had a walk around. Google must surely have it wrong. It’s kind of cute, but this cannot be James Bond beach. And while we are wandering around, the superyacht Hampshire arrives offshore and looks like they are trying to anchor in the main bay. Are they following us? And we wonder if they will have any problems with fish traps in their propellers, like we did?!
We then meet a woman who lives here in the winter. She tells us that James Bond beach is in the Goldeneye resort and that we should try the Goldeneye restaurant which is not part of the Goldeneye resort. It’s all very confusing!

So we tootle off again, this time leaving the dinghy on the beach, right in front of a police station. Should be safe there right?! We also spend few minutes on the jetty, where few fishermen are selling their catch. One sings while gutting the fish in the water, with huge tarpons swimming next to his feet. We click some pictures of them and this guy comments over his shoulder “just do not publish anywhere, there is a fish sanctuary here”. And indeed, we saw several signs with “No fishing, fish sanctuary”. If this is really the case, surelythey wouldn’t be gutting and selling the fish right in front of the police station.

After a hot walk up the road we enter where Google maps says the Goldeneye restaurant is. Only to find that it’s a storage place for the Goldeneye resort. And people there tell us that the Goldeneye restaurant is actually inside the Goldeneye resort. So we try one last time to get in. This time through the main gate. But the security is up to scratch here too and we are thwarted yet again. We give up! Rumor has it that Oprah Winfrey used to own, and these days Beyoncé and Naomi Campbell have houses in this resort. Maybe that’s why security is so anal here!

Looking up on Google we see there is another resort nearby. So we walk there hoping to get our morning coffee. The gate is wide open, Golden Clouds (can you spot a theme here?!) clearly invites us in. Phew, no security on this entrance so we walk in with our usual “we own the place” manner. The grounds are beautifully manicured and we can tantalizingly see the terrace and sea. But at the last step we are again thwarted. This time by a gardener who tells us we cannot enter unless we are guests. Pffff. Thwarted 3 times in one morning!
So we give up and head back to the dinghy. As we walk up to it, a customs vehicle passes us then stops. And would you believe it, it’s the same customs official from Port Antonio, and he has come especially to check up on us! So far, Jamaica takes the prize for keeping tabs on foreign boats! Or is it just us?

And on the way back to Cloudy, we see the tender from Hampshire coming into our bay and tying up to the Goldeneye resort dock. This will be interesting to observe. But annoyingly, Mr & Mrs Currie, the owners of the Hampshire, step off and are welcomed by security into the resort. Ooooph, what do they have that we don’t? (other than several £billion!)
At this point, our curiosity is too much so we go over and ask the tender crew if the couple had “pre-booked” for lunch? Apparently they had. There, we feel better now. We must include “pre-booking” into our future resort-crashing strategies 🙂

Back on Cloudy we feel we have exhausted Oracabessa sightseeing and decide to head off to Ocho Rios after our morning coffee. And while sipping our coffee we notice that the Hampshire has a police boat and 2 local fishing boats tied off its stern. The crew of the tender had just joked with us about dodging the fish traps as they arrived. Well, it looks like some of the fisherman don’t in fact find it so funny that Hampshire has anchored right among their traps! We wonder how much the pay-off would be?

By 1pm we are on our way for the 10 mile coastal passage to Ocho Rios. The easterly wind seems to be blowing now and as it will be dead astern we have the pole set ready before we even lift the anchor. And the moment we exit the bay, the engine goes off and genoa comes out, so we can have the propeller folded away as we go back through the minefield of fish traps. Once on our way, the wind is really quite strong. Up to 25kts. So we gently sail downwind with the genoa only. Well, “gently” … we are rolling in the waves and still managing 7-8kts boat speed while Oana sunbathes on the aft deck.

As we cruise close to the coast on our port side, our eyes are glued to it. It’s so lush. And the closer we get to Ocho Rios the more hotels and fancy houses we see. I’m particularly keen to spot the Shaw Park Hotel. Not only was it one of the very first tourist hotels on this coast, but more importantly to me, my parents had a very happy holiday there in 1967. Probably the first holiday by themselves after having 4 children. They couldn’t stop talking about it for years after. And my Dad would hum the Calypso song “Yellow Bird” to his dying day. And right now, it’s stuck in my head too! How did such beautiful songs get replaced with this modern black rap “music” (crap music, as I call it) that all sounds the same and destroys the tranquility of these Caribbean islands wherever we venture.

As we turn to port to enter Ocho Rios bay, we are confronted by an enormous cruise liner plus several high-rise hotels. And to get access to the bay we have to round the mooring dolphin which the cruise liner has its bow lines tied to. To spice things up, there is barely 3.5m of water as we pass between it and the reef. That was rather unexpected.
In the sheltered bay there are a couple of tripper cats and one other sailing yacht. We anchor in 4m of murky blue water just 100m off the busy beach, which is lined with hotels and sunbeds. Certainly the modern tourist scene here is quite a contrast to both Port Antonio and Oracabessa. “There”, I tell Oana, “I deliver you to civilization!”

After lunch in the cockpit we launch the dinghy and are about to go ashore when a police boat approaches us. They tell us to bring our paperwork to the port police immediately. What were we saying earlier about Jamaica getting the prize?!
In the little marina, we tie the dinghy to the police boat and go show them our papers and passports. The usual questions, where did we come from and where are we going. All very friendly, but a bit weird to be tracked like this.

And so we start our walk through Ocho Rios town. It’s very neat and tidy and clearly setup for cruise liners by all the diamond and jewelry shops and trinket markets. Plus the usual fast food eateries – like they don’t get fed on the cruise liners! But this cruise liner was just departing as we arrived, so the town is notably devoid of white tourists and the locals all look glad to have their town quiet again. At the end of the town we come to the beach hotels which we are anchored in front of. We try to enter but again we are thwarted. They are all-inclusive resorts with guests only allowed.

We go back through the town hoping to take a walk on the beach. It’s a public beach, right? Anyone can walk on it? Wrong. All along the back of the beach is a high fence stopping anyone getting on it. Eventually, we find an entrance. There is a fee to get on the beach. Fair enough, but you can only go on it 8.30am to 4:30pm! What the hell? Seriously? We guess the all-inclusive hotels have the beach all sewn up. And the fee to get on it is to further extort the cruise liner passengers. Well, at least from Cloudy Bay we can see the whole beach and we can land on it with the dinghy whenever we want. Or can we? We’ll test that theory tomorrow!

So with the town looking pretty dead and no beach walk possible, we head back to Cloudy for the evening. As we run the generator to recharge, we also run the air conditioner to cool the saloon from 32degC down to a comfortable 26. What a bliss to be able to do that. Once the heat is removed from the boat, the cool evening air keeps it cool.
It’s been a busy day. Tomorrow we will rent a car and go see some of the sights my parents saw back in 1967. My sister Julia has told me all the places, having read from my Mum’s dairy. It will be very interesting. For me at least.