Heather RobinsonTHERE IS definitely something very hypnotic about sea breeze. Perhaps it is the combination of salt, water, sand and breeze. One does not really know. But what is certainly sure is that there was or is no better place to be at four or five o'clock on any given evening. Sitting on your verandah, with your legs outstretched and eyes closed, is one of the best memories of my 12-year relationship with Hellshire. It is a place that I would live again tomorrow if the opportunity should arise.
One of the other exciting things about life in Hellshire was the constant presence and reminders of crocodiles. Driving home at about ten o'clock one night I suddenly noticed that the car in front of me swerved violently to the right and then back into the left lane. Behind that car was a fisherman riding on his bicycle, who repeated the movements of the car. By this time I was almost at the point of the two 'swervers'. To my utter fright and horror, there in front of me was my first sighting of a crocodile crossing the road. This fellow was about eight feet long, or perhaps it was just my imagination.
ENCOUNTER WITH CROCODILE
When I finally got home really only about four minutes later I saw a small group of persons gathered in my square. Telling his story of his encounter with the crocodile was one of my neighbours who was a captain in the Jamaica Defence Force. He recalled how on seeing the crocodile from the confines of his car, his instinctive response was to protect himself from the crocodile, so he simply drew his firearm. It gave him a sense of well-being and moreso a greater sense of security. Of course he never fired his gun, he merely held on to it, in case the crocodile had chosen to attack his motorcar. I remember on another occasion being awoken from my deep sleep by my neighbour at about one in the morning. Some vigilant male members had accosted two would-be thieves. So my neighbour and I proceeded to the next square where we saw one man tied to a stop sign awaiting the arrival of the police. The other would -be thief had run away into the swamps.
While we waited on the police to arrive, many stories were made up as to the possible fate of the 'tief' all with one ending 'and the crocodiles ate him'. I also remember getting up at 5 o'clock each morning to be ready to leave by 5.30 for Kingston to avoid the traffic. Impatient people and long traffic lines are not friends, so we would rather leave early and spend the additional hour reading the newspapers or going to work early. Things improved somewhat with the changing of the causeway to one-way traffic in the mornings and evenings thanks to the courage of Minister Roger Clarke. But going home after the one-way was closed could be a bitter experience.
PANIC ATTACK
On more than one occasion it took me more than three hours from New Kingston to Hellshire Heights. And on one such occasion one of my neighbours suffered a bad panic attack in the traffic on Spanish Town Road after turning back from the causeway traffic that was not moving. On any of those occasions I would have easily paid almost any amount of money to get me home. Imagine wanting to use the bathroom while in a traffic line on Spanish Town Road, Mandela Highway or the causeway! Residents of Portmore need to calculate the following costs in deciding whether they should be asked to pay a toll. How much more gasolene is utilised in bumper to bumper traffic? How many hours are being wasted in bumper to bumper traffic, being productive time for yourself, employer and Jamaica? What is the cost to your motorcar driving in these long lines? Does it require more frequent servicing? Have you contemplated how much more time and money utilising a toll road will save you and your family and employer?
Perhaps the next time there is a community meeting in Portmore the city said to have the largest number of university graduates in Jamaica those residents who support an easier life will come out and make their voices heard.
Heather Robinson is life underwriter and former Member of Parliament.
