Robert Lalah, Staff Reporter
Aunt May is one bubbly dame and is like a mother to almost everyone in Port Royal.
MY KNEES started wob-bling something fierce! I heard a shuffling noise behind me and I whipped around just in time to see something move in the bushes of the graveyard. My eyebrows went north in a haste and a trickle of sweat fell on to my nose. The pain in my chest told me this was it and my eyes started scanning the grounds for the best place to spend eternity.
Thankfully, however, I lived to tell the tale. Alas, it wasn't the boogie man after all. The noise in the bushes was caused by nothing more than a stray dog which had wandered into the graveyard in hot pursuit of a plump mongoose.
Perhaps I should explain why I was in the middle of the old graveyard in the first place.
'UNDEAD SOLDIERS'
You see, photographer Norman Grindley and I were in Port Royal recently and heard about the tale of the 'undead soldiers'. Yes, it's as creepy as it sounds.
Legend has it that some of the soldiers buried in the old Royal Navy cemetery are, let's say, a bit frisky even now, centuries after their death. Some say the spirits of the soldiers, many of whom died in battle or of the then dreaded yellow fever, lurk around the cemetery and the streets of Port Royal at night in search of their old navy ships or for long-lost friends.
Now this isn't exactly the kind of thing you hear everyday, so perhaps against better judgement, we went there to check the place out for ourselves.
The cemetery was itself almost buried in bushes. Large, prickly plants covered most of the graves. There was a monument with a rusty, old anchor on top of it. Most of the graves had concrete crosses on top of them and these, coupled with the bushes, made the scene more eerie - as if it wasn't eerie enough just being a graveyard. The tombstones mostly described navy officers who died in their early 20s in battle. Some died in the 19th century, others in the early 1900s.
It was easy to see why this place would have spawned the legend of the undead soldiers, because it was still bright out, early afternoon, and to tell you the truth, the place was giving me the heebie jeebies. But after spending some time there without one ghost showing his face, we realised that perhaps it was rest day in the afterlife, so we left and decided to check out the rest of Port Royal.
Now most people know the history of Port Royal and that it was once known as the wickedest place on earth. From what we heard, it is now one of the most peaceful places in the country. We wanted to find out if this was true and how the residents pulled it off.
We drove around for a bit, looking around. There was a strong smell of fish and a couple men were staggering out of bars with bottles in their hands. A spirited bunch.
We met up with Aunt May at her little shop called 'May's Grocery'. Aunt May is 84 years old and well respected in Port Royal. Everyone calls her Aunt May or just aunty and we were told she is like a mother to the entire community.
We found the bright-eyed golden ager shooting the breeze in front of her shop. She was resting on a chair and chatting with a smartly dressed bloke who wore a pair of rather dark sunglasses.
"Howdi do?" the woman greeted us as we pulled up beside her. She gave a hearty chuckle. We told her why we were there and the woman chuckled again.
"Boy, you couldn't find a better place than Port Royal. In fact, I have travelled all over the world. Norway, England, Canada and the United States and I have never come across a more peaceful, friendly place than right here. And I am 84 years old!" Aunt May rubbed her forehead as she spoke. "Some people don't believe that we are so close to Kingston yet we are so different. To tell you the truth, I don't even pass Harbour View anymore. Right here you can sit out on the street until three o'clock in the morning and nobody trouble you. You sleep with your windows and doors wide open and you don't feel any way."
The fellow with the dark glasses chimed in. Aunt May called him Kelly. "I am 72 and I agree. I travel out and come back. This is where I was born and I never see a place nice like this one," the lanky fellow said.
I asked the two community stalwarts just how the residents managed to keep the place so peaceful.
"They say it's all the fish we eat. Hee Hee!" Aunt May quipped. " It's really just how you live with each other. Right here we live like one jolly family. I am like the aunty to everybody. Once you live good then you don't have a problem. Nobody going to trouble you," Aunt May said.
TOURIST VISITS
The menacing remnants of what this now-peaceful community once was.
The pair told us that tourists visit the community all the time to gawk at the historic structures, but not many persons pay attention to the residents of the area who, she said, are an example to the rest of the country. "Yes you have the Giddy House and the canons, but it's the way of life in Port Royal that is the real marvel," she said with a glimmer in her eye.
We walked around with Aunt May and she introduced us to what seemed like everyone in the community. And by name!
We had a grand time with the jolly folks of Port Royal and found it to be a most welcoming community. One fisherman, fresh from sea, summed up life in the community best.
"We nuh have nuh time fi war wid wi one another. It ago tek weh time from di fish an di liquor!"
Please send comments to robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com.
