There are alot of places that one can eat lobster in Negril.
I like my friends spot on the beach.
Ringo, a/k/a The Mountain Man, I've mentioned this gent many times before.
He has a place on the beach, next door to the Craft Market along the river.
It is as far as you can go before you bump into the river.
He has a wood fire going all day long and cooks for some of the fishermen that live that way.
Last time he cooked for me, it was those little fish with 10 million bones.
No more.
Man, I need lobster, grilled lobster and veggies.
He leaned back and fired up another one.
"The men, they should be coming back in" he said.
He pointed to some little boats bobbing up and down out on the sea.
We missed the first round earlier, but the 2nd round of guys should be coming back soon.
I like to watch the men when they go out. The boats are not very big, but enough room for the nets and other gear.
I leaned further back in my chair and closed my eyes.
The weather this trip was as close to perfect as I have ever felt it in Jamaica.
About 79 with a breeze during the entire day, and I mean breeze.
It would have been perfect for a kite.
I may have nodded off for a bit (warm weather and sea breezes do that to me)
I opened my eyes and The Mountain man a/k/a Ringo was situating a metal pot, lodging it between the thick tree logs so that it could sit level while cooking.
Ahhh, so it begins.
He takes his time of course and I was in no rush.
I heard him in the back cutting and chopping and dicing, slicing.
He soon, had the food well under way.
Towards the end, he placed the lobsters in foil and laid them on the fire, not really fire, but ashy looking smoldering logs.
Nice.
This man is just an old fisherman dude.
Now he mostly cooks in the communal pot for the other fisher guys along the river.
Needless to say the lobster was supreme.
2 lobsters that he split open, so it looked like four tails.
It was about 3 PM and my belly was full.
I bid my farewells and walked off, up to the road looking for a route Taxi.
