Blathr Wayne Lorentz

Buoy One: “I'm tired from all this waving.”

Buoy Two: “Yeah, it takes atoll.”

Iʼm not an expert fisherman, but I think when youʼre 40 miles out to sea, rule number one is donʼt stand up in the boat!

You can tell that the towns of Jamaica were built by Europeans, because they let people park right up against important buildings.

Itʼs something Iʼve noticed in European nations from Britain to Italy to Austria. In America, we like to surround our important buildings with ceremonial lawns and other buffers. Unless youʼre royalty, that doesnʼt seem to happen in the European cultures Iʼve seen so far.

Thatʼs not a modern apartment building looming over the faux Georgian village. Itʼs a cruise ship.

What do you do when you need to use both hands for something, but you really donʼt want to put down your drink? You put it on your head, and then go about your business like itʼs no big deal.

At one of the entrances to Cruise Port Falmouth there is a series of signs telling the history of Falmouth. I donʼt think anyone ever reads them. The small fraction of people who leave port on their own and find their way back through this gate are too tired, hungry, and sunburned to care much about history.

I took photographs of some of them, and I leave these here in the name of posterity so that maybe someday someone will read on the internet what they didnʼt read in real life.

Sadly, the URLs printed on the big signs donʼt work. This is a good example of why you never print web addresses on anything thatʼs expected to last longer than a leaflet.

Falmouth Cruise Port is a Disney-esque retail promenade of crisp Georgian-style mercantile buildings, fully licensed and insured street performers, and clean bathrooms.

As is often the case, the area just beyond the tourist zone is less like a theme park, and more like the real world.

This was just embarrassing to watch.

This is the pedestrian exit from Cruise Port Falmouth to the actual town of Falmouth. Thereʼs a security guard to keep the town touts out of the port, which is private property. There are also a couple of police officers milling about.

A big, fat Texan waddles up to the very young 85-pound Jamaican security guard asking whatʼs on the other side of the fence. She tells him itʼs the town of Falmouth, with shops, and bars and restaurants.

In his slow, southern drawl laden with Texas twang he loudly inquires, “Is it safe?” I didnʼt hear her response, but he turned around and flip-flopped back into the warm bosom Royal Caribbeanʼs simulated suburban sanctuary.

I guess Falmouth is safe enough for an 85-pound girl to live in, but not safe enough for a 300-pound Texan to visit.

I can imagine him back in the bar on the ship talking up a storm about what a tough guy he is, and how proud he is of his three-quarter ton truck and hunting dog, and how he won the high school football championship in West Farkwad back in ʼ89.

I liked Texas better back when I was the only one who was all hat and no cattle.

I like to take pictures of generic street scenes when I travel. When I look back at the pictures later, they very often help me remember a place more vividly than a photograph that's focused on a monument or a building or a bird.

However, it appears that I'm not all that interested in cleaning my lens before I take pictures. Most of my Falmouth photos were ruined by a smear of sunscreen on the lens.

Didn't anyone ever tell you to make sure your optics are clean?

Naming buildings after commercial products is nothing new. New York has the Chrysler Building. Chicago has the Wrigley Building. And Falmouth, Jamaica has… the Huggies Building.

Someone should open a spa there so customers can be pampered at Huggies.

Security doesnʼt have to be ugly.

I managed to find the Jamaica Post office in Falmouth, Jamaica. But by the time I got there, Iʼd already given all of my Jamaican dollars to touts hawking magnets and carved wooden figures. So much for reviving my stamp collection.

If your crappy taxi can only handle “two fat chicks,” then perhaps you should do a better job of maintaining it.

I donʼt know what building this is, but I like the way it looks. It feels like a slice of Caribbean history during a more interesting age.

I suspect the building is actually a historic landmark, because Falmouth puts up maps that look like theyʼre from pirate days next to its historic buildings. But this building has no sign telling you what it is.

If you had plans for a tropical island vacation, better check your reservations. Google Maps says that all Jamaica is temporarily closed.