The magnet that is Port Royal
PORT ROYAL is a place I frequent not because of its seafood, not at all. And there is a reason why. I am excited by its history, ruins, and biodiversity.
But, I also go to its beaches to scavenge for the ‘trophies’ that the sea regurgitates, especially after heavy rains and stormy weather. Yes, I am a beachcomber who is on the beach, including the one along the Palisadoes stretch, where there are natural ‘gems’ for the taking.
The sun-drenched, grey sand on the southern side of the beach is popular with residents and some visitors. For pebble collectors, it is a treasure trove. On a clear day, cays are visible in the distance. Cargo ships laden with containers can also be seen slowly making their way to one of the world’s largest harbours.
Along the Palisadoes, and at certain points along the coast of the town itself, I have seen people fishing, which seems to be a popular reason why they visit that storied place, whose biodiversity is very rich. There are many species of birds in the region, and a few years ago, I got the opportunity to tour the mangroves.
In addition to the exotic-looking birds, rats, crabs, fish, and the great abundance of oysters, which
clustered on everything, including solid waste, there was much man-made refuse stifling the life of the place when I last visited. It was just unbelievable to see the great amount of non-biodegradable waste that people have allowed to enter this beautiful sanctuary.
Now, I wish the fuss over the development of Port Royal, or the lack thereof, would extend to the cleaning up of this important mangrove forest.
The brouhaha over Port Royal has been reignited over the past two weeks, and as much as I was tempted to add my voice to the blame game, I kept quiet because I got the feeling that sooner rather than later the hot air would dissipate, and Port Royal continues to fester, as it has been doing since the morning of June 7, 1692.
After the British captured Jamaica from the Spaniards, they built a fort on the island of Cagway, which became a haunt for pirates. The fort that they built on Cagway was called Fort Cromwell but was renamed Fort Charles. Port Royal developed around that fort.
Armed soldiers manned these forts and participated, along with the buccaneers, in all manner of evil, earning the town the unflattering moniker of the ‘richest and wickedest city on Earth’.
That Mecca of debauchery was turned upside down on June 7 when a major earthquake, a tsunami, and several aftershocks flung two-thirds of the town with, 90 per cent of the buildings, into the sea. Over 2,000 people perished. And Port Royal was to face more disasters such as hurricanes, the 1704 fire, and another massive earthquake in 1907.
The ruins created by these disasters, the historic buildings, and the legend of the 1692 earthquake should have made Port Royal, located up the road from Norman Manley International Airport, and on one side of Kingston Harbour, a tourist magnet, but for whatever reasons, it is not, thus the continual fuss.
And, last year, I was at a function when someone in authority said that things were being put in place for World Heritage Site status application for Port Royal. I am waiting, not with bated breath, for more announcements. Meanwhile, the romance of the Port Royal story, the gems on the beach and the mangrove forests will continue to magnetise me to that most idyllic place.