A section of Old Harbour in St. Catherine. The second you see this clock, you know you're in Old Harbour. - photos by Norman Grindley/Deputy Chief Photographer

Honk Honk! A giant truck powered down the narrow roadway and a little boy wearing a khaki shirt and a wrinkled pair of pants had to almost dive out of its way. A wiry man carrying a bag filled with bottled water was standing nearby and yelled a series of expletives in the direction of the truck driver, who didn't seem in the least bit offended.

The little boy continued his trek without looking back. The searing heat was pelting the foreheads of almost all of the hundreds of people who were walking around, and an elderly woman was taking a few minutes to rest her feet as she sat on the dusty sidewalk with two large plastic bags beside her.

This is Old Harbour in St. Catherine on a weekday. It's a busy place that has become known for many things. Traffic, crowds and of course, delicious fried fish. In fact, people will travel from the far corners of the country to get some of the famous Old Harbour fish and have been known to cause serious traffic woes as they slow down their vehicles and shout their orders to the streetside fish vendors.

One such exchange was taking place just as photographer Norman Grindley arrived in the crowded town.

Rambunctious vendor

"How much you want?" shouted a round woman vendor to the driver of a small blue car as she jumped up to take the fish out of the wooden box in front of her. "Is di sweetest fish dis inna Jamaica. When you eat dis fish, man, you lick you finga dem!" she said as she collected money from the driver of the car. As the small blue car drove off, the woman counted the money she received and then shoved it into her blouse, next to her bosom. She chuckled, whispered something to a woman beside her, and then sat down and sighed.

"Yes, Fada, give thanks fi anada one," she said, wiping sweat from her brow.

More than 10 years

I walked up to her and introduced myself. "So what? You want fish fi buy?" she asked, looking me up and down, her nose up in the air. I told her that I wanted to find out about her work there in Old Harbour. To my great relief the 200 plus-pound woman smiled. "Oh yes, young bwoy. My name is Miss Piggy. I been selling here in Old Harbour for more than 10 years now. I live over in Spring Village, not so far from here. Old Harbour well beknowing fi di fish and festival what we have here. Is the only place that been selling fish for so long and people still coming back for more," Miss Piggy laughed as she spoke, all the while looking behind me for the first sign of a new customer.

Right then, a slim, older-looking woman with red-framed spectacles spoke up. She was sitting next to Miss Piggy and had her own box of fish for sale. "Is true Piggy telling you, Massa. Things slow up now since di new road build and people don't pass here like first time. But you have the people dem who will leave from all town and come here fi di Old Harbour fish. Mi give thanks fi dem people deh still. For if it wasn't for dem, then mi woulda haffi go town go sell di fish. Hee, hee," the slim woman said.

Another car pulled up with potential customers and the two women jumped to attention.

We heard them bargaining with the driver of the car as we walked off.

Extra festival

Some of the popular fish vendors in Old Harbour.

"Yes, man. You can get a extra festival if you want, but mi can't take off nothing off di price. You a try kill mi or what?" I heard Miss Piggy say.

Just a few feet away, close to a bank, is a small but comfortable bar with a chubby barmaid called Angela. Angela said she lived in Old Harbour Bay and spent most of the past eight years working at that very bar.

"Well even though things slow up recently, you have the people dem who will still come to Old Harbour, especially for the fish. Dem come and eat and when dem ready then dem come here or the other bars dem and cool down themself. Is a hot and chuck-up town, but mi used to it," Angela said.

A few men were in the bar getting rowdy and one of them, a 52- year-old fellow who called himself Ripton, spoke up. He sounded like a commercial. "Yes, man. When you want fish and good beer, nuh badda toll road it. Just pass through Old Harbour and you will get everything dat you need. Food and drink, all woman to if you lucky!" he said.