TREVOR Dennis was only nine years old when his father, a raft captain, died in a car accident. But even without his dad’s presence during his adolescent years, Trevor found himself drifting in the direction of the Rio Grande in Portland to become fifth in the line of rafting Dennis men.
Now 54 years old, Dennis speaks unhurriedly as he recounts his experiences as a raft captain on the big river. His jaw is taut and his movements slow and deliberate as he uses a bamboo pole to guide the raft upstream.
“The best days for rafting were back in the ’80s when we had a lot of cruise ships docking in Port Antonio, so you know we could get a lot of business,” the captain says nostalgically. He pauses to wipe a bead of sweat from his brow before continuing. “Now, we’re lucky if we each get two trips for the week.”
Dennis is one of more than 80 licensed raft captains on rotation at Rio Grande. By regulation, they currently charge $7,300 to locals or US$90 to foreigners for two-and-a-half-hour trips down the river. For shorter trips, the rafters receive $6,000 or US$80 to take their passengers upstream from a point at the mouth of the river called Rafter’s Rest, then turn back after 45 minutes.
“The greatest thing about how we survive is tips,” he says, adding he ensures he gives all his passengers the best experience possible, so they will be swayed to generosity. “Since the COVID thing though, it’s mainly locals who come and raft. Not everyone will tip, but some will take my number and send their friends to me, so I still give thanks.”
The captain says he also has a few clients who return frequently.
“I have this one bredrin who comes out here about once a month, and I’ve never seen him replay a woman,” Dennis says, chuckling to himself. “He will call me before to make sure I am here, but when he arrives with the woman, he always asks who Trevor is and says he was referred by a friend.”
About halfway upstream, Dennis moves the raft closer to the riverbank and rests his pole on the side of the vessel, inviting me to hand him my phone so that he can do the honours. As he changes instruments, Dennis transforms into an expert cinematographer. He explains: “A lot of people see their friends post pictures and decide to come out, too.”
In response to a comment about his excellent photography skills, Dennis posits that the job involves a lot more than rowing gently down the stream. Not only does he construct his own rafts by hand — a skill that is passed down in his family — but he must complete annual training to renew his rafting licence with the Tourism Product Development Company (TPDCo) River Rafting Authority.
“We have to do a tough training course with the Jamaica Defence Force every year, and we have to be able to swim and rescue two people at once, and we have to do CPR as well,” he says, adding that he is also a swimming instructor.
While he is content with the life he has been able to row for himself in the last 31 years, the Snow Hill, Portland, resident declares proudly that he is the last descendant in his family of raft captains. His three adult children have all left the pond for bigger waters.
“One is in the army, one works out by the health centre in Port Antonio, and the last one is with me now but is planning to migrate soon,” he divulges, grimacing slightly as he turns the raft around.
Having completed the most arduous part of the journey, Dennis perches on the edge of the watercraft for the ripples to ease us along. The back of his arms and head glisten in the sunset as he talks animatedly about his rambunctious grandchildren.
“You know what me proud ’bout in life?” he asks after several minutes of silence.
“What?”
“My father died when I was nine, so I didn’t really get much daddy love, but I make sure that my children them feel my love for them,” he says as he approaches Rafter’s Rest.
“Me tell my daughter the other day all when she turns 50, as long as me have strength, me still a go take care of her. I believe that parents owe dem pickney obligation, not the other way around,” he adds.
As he docks at the end of the journey, Dennis laughs off protests that the journey has ended too soon. He quips that he has nowhere to go, so he would be much obliged to head back upstream if I didn’t have to go.
He says that though he is sometimes tired, he enjoys his job immensely.
“It’s very peaceful out on the river, and I love people,” he says. “Being around different people from all walks of like exposes me more, and I love to make friends. I learn a lot from them.”
Dennis wants more experiences like these for himself and his colleagues.
“We’re not asking for much; just want the things to expose the right way so that we can get more business, because that can help us to support ourselves,” he says.
TEXT & PHOTOS BY CANDIECE KNIGHT
