Colorful, rustic, and ramshackle. Fragrant with the heady scent of raw fish and salty sea spray mixed with the intoxicating aroma of roasting seafood and the ubiquitous but subtle hint of ganja smoke. For both tourists and locals alike, Fisherman’s Beach in Jamaica is the perfect place fi catch and hold a vibe.

I’ve been meaning to share the experience of going to Fisherman’s Beach in St. Ann’s Bay, Jamaica for years now, but finally found inspiration two weekends ago after the epic Beenie Man v. Bounty Killer Verzuz matchup on Instagram Live. And, since that time, I’ve been motivated by . . . (i) the unrest arising in the wake of the killings of Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery; and George Floyd; (ii) the angst and uncertainty created by the Coronavirus pandemic; and (iii) our nation’s failed response to both of those ills; (iv) plus everyday hardships that seem outsized (relative to their actual weight) . . . to take a visual escape back to a happy memory.

For me, one thing that has emerged during this Quarantine period is a fuller appreciation for past travel experiences—well-known places that I’d like to rediscover, and from which I constantly draw inspiration during this time—and a yearning to visit places that I’ve never seen. One experience that I’m eager to relive is a trip with my mother to Fisherman’s Beach in St. Ann’s Bay, Jamaica. I was born in St. Ann’s Bay (on Jamaica’s north coast, in the parish of St. Ann)* and was visiting the island to do the most Jamaican of things—taking care of administrative matters  (glorified errands). Picture it: Jamaica 2015.

Already late at 8:00 am. Near-cloudless sky. Birds fly overheard. The sun’s early morning gaze glistens like silver tinsel glinting across crystal clear waters shaded turquoise, teal, and cyan. Waves crashing onto a well-used beach is a heartbeat. The beauty of this beach is that it’s not beautiful at all. It’s all function, light on form.

Children keep themselves busy while waiting for the fishermen to return from sea—idly throwing sticks into the water or posing for photos. My mom narrates the entire scene, so I feel like an old pro even though this is my first time (or the first time that I can remember).

The sea provides a majestic backdrop for the entire scene—which, of course, includes syncopated reggae, roots, and dancehall music flowing from a booming sound system—the type you’ll find at most beaches (for locals) in Jamaica. The aural memories that it triggers take me back to my youth, where my life on this sunny and verdant island was quite literally accompanied by a soundtrack that came to define music of that period (on a global scale) and which continues to influence music across genres today. I’m vexed that I’ve deleted the video that captured the sounds from this day. Try your best to imagine it . . .

Speaking of booming sounds . . . Can I tell you how the Bounty Killer v Beenie Man clash made me so proud of the power of Jamaican music to bring profound joy during the height of distress? I’m grateful that we were all given an opportunity to tap into the creative energy that spilled from those two exuberant deejays (and their djs behind them). I got so much life from that performance! Pure unadulterated joy. Of all the things to come out of our time in Quarantine so far, I hope the Verzuz battles (and D-Nice’s Club Quarantine) stay with us for the long term—whether on or offline.

A fisherman examines his catch and preps them for sale

As an aside, it should come as no surprise that Jamaican artists would mash up (or dominate) a Verzuz-styled battle, since they’re built for that type of competition. Jamaican artists treasure their rivalries and are known to spar (in the best of ways) in traditional sound clashes: from Beres Hammond v. Barrington Levy;  Ninjaman v. Shabba Ranks; and, of course, Beenie Man v.  Bounty Killer, among many other lyrical pugilists—all backed by massive, competing, sound systems that provide the booming bass backdrop for the matchup (e.g., Stone Love, Bass Odyssey, Killamanjaro, etc.). Nothing beats a sound clash on the beach. Do try to catch one on your next visit to Jamaica. But, I digress . . .

Everyone wants first dibs

Fisherman’s Beaches abound in Jamaica. The island’s shoreline is literally dotted with these public spaces. We picked the one that was closest to my childhood home, but could have easily driven a few miles over to the Fisherman’s Beach in Ocho Rios. There’s another Fisherman’s Beach in Duncans Bay. And the famous Fisherman’s Beach at Hellshire Beach in St. Catherine is perfect for Kingstonians who live nearby—if you visit, you must try the legendary fried fish and bammy for which Hellshire is known. You’ll be hard pressed to find tourists at a Fisherman’s Beach, so if you’re looking for a truly authentic experience—to live life like a Jamaican—then head to one on your next visit, when outside opens back up again.

Negotiations for freshly speared fish is a very serious ting!

My memory of this 2015 experience at St. Ann’s Bay’s Fisherman’s Beach is especially poignant because it was our first visit to the island without my dad, and resonant because it brought me back to my youth and the many carefree days spent at the beach.

But make it fashion! Can you believe these colors? If you haven’t snorkeled in the Caribbean, please put it at the top of your to-do list. The colorful schools of teeming fish are a vision. I recommend my Uncle Alan’s glass-bottom boat for both snorkeling and parasailing when visiting Ocho Rios (visit Ochi’s Fisherman’s Beach while there),  Mammee Bay, or St. Ann’s Bay.

Since childhood, food has been the primary way through which I immerse myself in an experience and my best memories are often interwoven with recollections of eating something delicious. While you can get a full experience at Fisherman’s Beach by soaking in the sun, sand, sounds, and sea, your trip would be incomplete without the unique beach-side dining experience that makes Fisherman’s Beach special.

If you like to live your best vacation life as a local, then make a stop at one of the many Fisherman’s Beaches on your next visit to the land of my birth. Locals visit Fisherman’s Beach to buy fish to cook at home, mostly. I’d recommend that tourists go to enjoy the ultra casual dining and the sensuous low pressure high frequency vibes.

No spice or seasoning necessary for these fish. The salty brine of seawater in which they were immersed minutes earlier is all that’s needed for flavoring.

Ever been to a Fisherman’s Beach? If so, we’d love to learn more about your time there in the comments section below. My family’s recipe for Jamaican Brown Stewed Fish and Escovitch Fish (cooked whole from head to tail, of course) soon come!

I secured this bag of fish, picked based on color

Pro Tip: Arrive as early as possible to improve your odds of getting first dibs at the fish. You should be more than ok if you arrive between 6 am and 7 am. We arrived late, around 8 am, and, as a result, didn’t get the amount we needed. In the end we had to buy more fish elsewhere (from fishermen at a nearby river, see below) to supplement our stash from Fisherman’s Beach.

Buying more fish, this time from a nearby river

* Bob Marley and Marcus Garvey are both from St. Ann. Marcus Garvey (and I) were born in St. Ann’s Bay—where Christopher Columbus was marooned from June 1503 – June 1504, while on his second trip to the island—and Bob Marley is from the nearby town of Nine Mile.

See the gallery below for more of  my photos of Fisherman’s Beach in St. Ann’s Bay. Visit StyleChile’s Movement category for vintage travel posts and the Nourishment category for vintage culinary topics.