A little Ochi History
Two particularly beautiful 1950s posters from the sublime art team of the Jamaican Tourist Board — just who were these brilliant artists?
A look back at those hazy, lazy days of downtown Ocho Rios; from simpler, more modest times to welcoming shoals of guests from overseas.
The BOAC Boeing Stratocruiser, a double-decker airliner which flew from New York to Montego Bay until its early retirement in 1963
Jamaica has enticed seekers of rum and relaxation since the dawn of man, but it wasn’t until the mid 20th century that the tourism boom began to really blossom.
Our story begins in 1947 with the establishment of the Jamaica Civil Aviation Department, opening up the island to a greater inflow of visitors as two new sleek and shiny airports prepared for take off the following year at Kingston and Montego Bay.
A year or two before that, not long after the Second World War, a more affluent and fun-seeking North America wanted to go on vacation, to visit the Tropics and indulge its new-found love of exotica. (Obeah fridge magnets anyone?)
Where better to travel to, then, than the islands of the Caribbean — and with the sheer beauty and decadent delights of Jamaica almost right there on the doorstep, it would be blue skies and a sunny forecast for Jamaican tourism from then on.
But why should MoBay and Kingston have all the fun?
Ocho Rios Bay & Main Street
Snugly settled in the middle of Jamaica’s north coast, a fair distance from either of the island’s gleaming new airports, Ocho Rios was a carefree one street village with a scattering of dwellings, left to go about its business in a relative calm for a while.
A simple paradise cloistered in trees of sea grape and the ‘Jamaica Tall’ coconut palm, the tiny stretch of Ocho Rios Bay was essentially a working beach where the fishermen would bring in their morning catch to sell on the spot.
Beachside living for fisherfolk and their families meant wooden ‘sand dash’ houses on stilts with steps for access — Main Street huddled so close to the Bay that, when the tide was high, the sea would gently swoosh in beneath the buildings. A happy-go-lucky time in the quaintest of settings, the children would content themselves splashing and swimming in a natural pool called Sailor Hole.
Note lack of big hotels in this pretty view from Shaw Park Gardens, circa 1970 — nice Mini Moke!
But, little did little Ochi know, winds of change were whipping up from behind closed doors — were this part of the island to harbour any tourism potential, might a certain “sleepy village” have the makings of a viable landing-place?
Thus in 1968 the government’s newly-formed St Ann Development Company (with the unfortunate acronym, SADCo) began an intense programme of land reclamation to effect the rejuvenation of Ocho Rios Bay and its surroundings. The Bay itself was cleared, dredged out and made safe before copious tonnes of clean, white sand were trucked in and spread out to create a new, inviting ‘thrill quadrant’ to be christened Turtle Beach.
Meanwhile, Turtle Beach Road and the Main Pier with its serviceable marina were constructed at the west end of the Bay (the Cruise Ship Jetty, added in the early 1980s to host the big ocean liners, would bring thousands more passengers to the town). However, Turtle Beach Towers, a foursome of residential-come-holiday-let tower blocks built at the turn of the 1970s, was the first example of ‘concrete brutalism’ to blight an otherwise all-sparkling new shoreline.
Now after such a flattering makeover, what the rest of Ocho Rios needed was some sort of focal point, a municipal centrepiece, and this appeared in the form of the iconic Clock Tower. Built in 1973 at the convergence of Main Street, DaCosta Drive and James Avenue, this handsome totem of goodwill was very kindly gifted to the town by businessman and philanthropist Mr Donald DaCosta and Colonel Robin Stewart of St Ann.
The Clock Tower in 1978, in a still from the movie Rockers
The 1970s ushered in another type of asset to tempt tourists to part with their cash and serve the town as a whole — the modern shopping centre.
The first to have its ribbon scissored opened a little to the east of Main Street at Pineapple, followed by the mall at Coconut Grove, the more central Brown’s Plaza by the Clock Tower, and, the jewel of the downtown shopping scene, the colourful labyrinth of Ocean Village. Another, the Little Pub Complex was built on the former site of Great House and was one of the places to go of an evening — its Park Way Restaurant was considered Ochi’s finest, and each Monday the Little Pub itself was jumping to the live sound of music sensations Byron Lee & The Dragonaires.
Today the town is awash with places to shop from pushcarts to plazas of every description under the Jamaican sun.
The large Ocho Rios Market (actually three markets in one) has existed for longer than folks can remember. As has always been tradition, the weekend Farmers’ Market attracts traders from far and wide who gather to sell their vitalizing fresh produce.
Happily it was announced in late 2019 that a good chunk of the Main Street section of the Market and parking area was to receive a very welcome upgrade — this would greatly benefit existing stallholders (who retain their plots) and attract many more visitors to this end of town.
“Keep on doing what you’re doing, Sammy.”
— Ernie Smith
The Point & James Avenue
Waterfront view of the Silver Seas, circa 1970, which has never lost its charm
The seaboard part of James Avenue was formerly known as The Point, a quiet corner little more than a thoroughfare for tourists to mosey along to Ocho Rios Bay. The Point began, more or less, near the Bethel Tabernacle Pentecostal Church, spreading westwards past the pretty villas and hotels facing on to Mallards Bay — the glorious Silver Seas among them.
An informal criss-cross of trails linked parts of the town. One ran from The Point to Main Street and west of the Methodist Church, past the fishing beach, then all the way up to Buckfield (now Old Buckfield), presumably partly tracing the route of what is now the big storm gully. A parallel trail ran from Buckfield Sports Ground to where the Clock Tower now stands, a foreshadow of Evelyn Street. A couple of trails remaining to this day provide handy shortcuts — one connects Main Street to Silver Seas, another cuts diagonally from the Marine View hotel to the more bustley bits at the centre of James Avenue.
Typical sumptuous Tower Isle scene, a few miles east of Ochi
Giving the town a facelift fulfilled its promise. New hotels, villas and a guesthouse or two began popping up like mushrooms along the two Bays and further to the east, offering the slew of guests a choice of places to chuck their bags down and relax.
The imposing Mallards Beach Hyatt and Intercontinental hotels opened for business off Turtle Beach in 1975 (both later changed names and ownership a couple of times, merged, and became the Moon Palace). Others including the mid-sized Marine View hotel and its smaller neighbour the Seekers guesthouse were just a stone’s throw away.
For a peek behind the scenes at mid-’70s Jamaican hotel life, the 1976 movie Smile Orange is an enjoyable romp (if a little non-PC today), with some of the story set within Silver Seas and its amenities.
So The Point was granted street status and duly named James Avenue to honour Sydney James, a Parish Councillor who lived near what became Silver Seas, before moving on to found the Cotton Tree Club east of the town. The name of The Point lives on in Point Plaza — the same vicinity but accessed via Main Street.
James Avenue, or rather the section which now runs from Main Street down to opposite 7th Avenue Plaza, flourished into a kind of infamous party strip of pulsating bars and clubs, a hub for tourists and locals to revel in boisterous festivities till the sun came up.
The great Jack Ruby, the Roots Reggae producer who recorded many famous artists, based his famed Sound System here in the early ’70s and, out of respect to his eternal standing, an earnest campaign to rename the street Jack Ruby Avenue is under way.
Something else to ponder…
Though a little less lively than its swinging heyday, James Avenue remains a vital artery to the town. Some buildings retain an ‘old Jamaica’ feel and, with a bit of spit and polish, this area with its bars and food could become a decent and highly achievable ‘Heart of Ochi’, bringing some more of that tourist dollar downtown.
And why ever not?
Would proper street lighting, some strings of coloured lights, and perhaps a decorative arch at the top of the street be too much to ask?
Added Ochiness over Time
A decade of research into the island’s ‘red gold’ bauxite resources led to Reynolds Jamaica Mines exportation of alumina from REYNOLDS PIER to the USA from June 1952. Shutdown of operations in the ’80s weakened the local economy, henceforth forced to rely on tourism. The pier has recently been re-purposed into a second jetty for cruise ships. See our James Bond Feature.
The OCHO RIOS BYPASS was developed out of necessity in the mid to late 1990s as a result of the inevitable traffic congestion brought on by the sizable increase in tourism — well nothing is ever straightforward is it. The bypass links the North Coastal Highway by way of a section of DaCosta Drive.
Created in 2002 just off Turtle Beach Road, the come-hither complex of ISLAND VILLAGE is a purpose-built idealised Caribbean village of brightly coloured souvenir shops, restaurants and tidy boardwalks, built around a trimmed-with-scissors central green with a stage for putting on events.
Tranquil TURTLE RIVER PARK opened in June 2004 on the former site of a bus station, the Urban Development Corporation (UDC) deciding the space could be put to far better use as a kind of ‘Garden Parish in miniature’, adding lush flora, a pond with turtles, picnic and play areas, and gazebos to lounge in*.
*Overproof rum (and possibly herb-) affected, one balmy afternoon Wilson woke up in a Turtle River Park gazebo to find himself surrounded by a gospel vocal group who used the gazebo for regular choir practice, this time accompanied by loud snoring. It was quite beautiful to awaken in that celestial, harmonious situation as Wilson relates, a feeling like he’d passed on to the other side. Despite a kind invitation to remain and join the chorale, he sheepishly regained whatever composure he could muster and teetered off into the Ochi haze.
Special thanks to the members of the Facebook Ocho Rios Home Coming group for their Ochi memories.
