Introduction
I don't want to bore you with all of the details of my nightmare. Let's just say that the decline began when I won the lottery, and ended when I decided to throw away my former life. From my cheating wife walking away with my daughter and ten million, to the endless lineup of newly found relatives and friends who felt they deserved a piece of me, I had experienced just about everything evil that life had to offer.
My depression turned my world grey. I could not even speak to a stranger without suspecting some scheme to carve out another piece of my heart or mind. I was alone. After a long bout of drinking and drugs landed me in a private hospital, I found peace. No one came to visit me. No one knew I was there. The staff had no idea who I was, and they didn't seem to care. I forged a few very good relationships there - the only real part of my life at that point.
Ali, a tiny nurse with a contagious laugh and smile, was living her life to the fullest. She had fallen in love. She had gotten married and was going on her honeymoon soon. The Honduras was her home before moving to Canada. Her new husband was going to take her back there. Her happiness was bright enough to light up even my spirits. She suggested that I travel. I decided that she was right. If I could find peace in seclusion, and if I could find happiness vicariously through her good fortune, then why could I not find my own new life - my own new happiness?
This realization brought my thoughts back to Jamaica. Once when I travelled there, I stayed for a time in Negril. I learned to sail on the crystal clear water. I was in love at the time, so that may have altered my perceptions a bit, but I was also at peace. I remembered laying under the sun looking up at the large white sail overhead. The sun would reflect off of the dancing waves of the ocean and project up onto that white canvass. Crystal waves, I thought. Best place I could think of to start over.
I packed up my personals into three stainless steel suitcases. I left everything else to be sold with my condo. I left no forwarding address.
Chapter One - New Life
I kept my sailboat moored just off shore at a marina very close to the hottest party spots along Negril Beach. The beach itself was miles and miles long. Not fully developed yet, there was small clusters of resorts separated by long spans of untouched white beaches. Often locals would use these areas for camping, picnics and swimming. The main highway - a single lane clay road - could often be seen from the ocean through the grass and palm trees. The party spots and resort areas were for tourist only, and were littered with small sail craft, personal watercraft, and various other water toys, chairs and umbrellas. Often parasailers would drift by shortly after some large jet boat that was pulling them. Local fishermen would just leave their white wood fishing boats pulled up onto the beach here and there. Off of the southwestern shore of Jamaica, and in somewhat of a bay, the waves were just right for learning to sail, snorkel, scuba and windsurf.
I kept to myself, and took in the sunshine. The depression I had felt was lifted, but would come back with any hangover. I called it the dread. So, I liked to party - but almost always kept my wits about me, fearing the dread that my former life would come back to stay.
Marli, a beautiful local waitress, would always flirt with me when I would come to shore for a cold beer. Her little bar was called the Pink Clamshell. It was owned and operated by mostly local women from Negril. We would laugh about the bar name, and what pink clam referred to back in Canada. She asked me if I had ever been with a Jamaican woman. I told her no, and she asked how the hell could I know what color her clam was. The staff all laughed about it. One time, when leaving her tip, I wrote "All women are beautiful and pink on the inside, Love Christopher." on the bill. The next day I realized that I had been drunk, and I may have overstepped my boundaries. She was a good friend and I didn't want to lose that. She had been hurt before, and was not looking for a relationship. I hoped that I hadn't chased her away.
That very same afternoon, she showed up at my boat on her brothers sea-doo. I didn't know what to think. I half expected to get reamed out right there on my own boat! She disarmed me with her bright smiling eyes as she pulled up to the aft steps on the port side. She shut off the sea-doo and hollered to me asking for permission to come aboard. I thought that seemed quite formal, given that she had been on my boat before. She usually became mockingly formal with me at the bar when she was flirting with me - calling me captain and sir. I decided to play along - asking her what was the nature of her business. She smiled and said that her business was pleasure. I almost cut her off telling her that she was welcome aboard. She giggled and stepped onto the swim platform. I wasn't sure if she was giggling at the familiar banter, or the excitement in my voice. My mouth felt dry, and my face felt hot. Her skin was glistening wet from the ride, and she was wearing much less than I was used to seeing her in. Yellow on chocolate! I couldn't believe my eyes.
As she approached me, she looked at my face and said that it looked like I had had too much sun. I knew she could tell that I was blushing, but she wanted me to relax. At that, I suggested that we sit under the bimini in the shade and have a cold drink. She agreed and led the way to the centre of the boat. I could not help but stare at her perfect round bottom, gently separated by a thin strip of yellow fabric. Her body was so toned, yet her skin was thick enough to make her seem so soft. I wanted to feel her body up against mine.
The yellow bikini that she was wearing made her dark flawless skin look like smooth creamy mocha ice cream. She took my hand and led me down the two steps to the cabin well. She turned and sat down, looking concerned, not letting go of my hand. I asked her what was the matter, and she said to get her the drink I promised. I cracked a bottle of Champagne that I kept in the chiller and brought it out with two flutes. She was silent as I poured her a glass. When I handed it to her, she said "Service with a smile?" and giggled nervously.
She poured back the whole glass and put it down, looking determined. She then asked if I was in love with her. I thought for a second and then said that honestly I would have to say no. I clarified that I had very little trust for people in general at that point in my life, and that women especially were difficult to trust. No trust, no love. She smiled - a reaction that I did not expect. She seemed to be completely relieved. For the next hour we sat around drinking Champagne and flirting and joking like we usually did at the Pink Clamshell.
I knew that my written remarks on the bill had not offended her, so I asked her if she saw it. She said that she never thought that I would consider anything sexual with a Jamaican woman until she saw that note. She assumed that I was not interested because of how relaxed I was with her in the bar...most men were very nervous around her. She was wrong. I told her so then. She said that she knew she wanted me from the first time we met. She was unsure of my preferences, which is part of the reason why she asked me if I had ever been with a Jamaican woman. When I said no, she was left unsure as to my motives - friendship or lover.