This couple chill out at the Errol Flynn Marina, a major attraction in Port Antonio. - Photos by Ian Allen/freelance Photographer

The man took off his cap and wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Well, mi say to miself dat people will always have to wear shoes pan dem foot, so mi will stay wid di work as long as is possible," he said, replacing the cap on his head.

Brother Cox is Port Antonio's friendly neighbourhood shoemaker who spends a lot of his time moonlighting as the town's unofficial counsellor/therapist.

"People always come to mi wid dem worries. Maybe true dem see mi as a elder or because mi sit down one place and cyaa move," he laughed.

Brother Cox is getting up in years and has been working as a shoemaker for as long as he can remember. I had met up with him one Tuesday while I was in the heart of Port Antonio. It's a town right on the coast of Portland that seems like it has been frozen in time. It's like you've stepped into a postcard.

Surreal town

In the thick of things, however, as taxis zip up and down the road and shoppers haggle with streetside vendors, Port Antonio becomes real again.

"Yes man, it nice here, but dat is not to say that things couldn't better," Brother Cox said while hammering at the sole of a black leather shoe.

"I move come here in the '40s, for I was really born in Hanover, and from dat time until now, I have to say dat I see better days here in Port Antonio," he said, inspecting the shoe in his hand.

"Bredda Coxy, big up yuhself!" someone shouted from across the road.

"Man, yuh see mi talking wid di gentleman? Have some better manners and next time, wait when yuh see people talking!" Brother Cox yelled back. The man across the road, a short fellow with a stomach that hung over his waist, seemed surprised by the retort and quickly retreated into a nearby rum bar.

"So even though the place nice, if di people get something more fi do wid dem time, it can be better," said Brother Cox.

I thanked the man for his time, just as a woman wearing a blue wig walked over to him.

"Bredda Coxy, mi need fi talk to yuh," she said, making herself comfortable on a stool. "Yes mi child, what happen now?" asked Brother Cox as I walked off.

Across the street, outside a popular watering hole, I met Donovan Miller, a tall, slender would-be singer known to the people of Port Antonio as Mouse. Yes, Mouse's life's desire is to tour the world singing songs that tug at people's heart strings. The trouble is, he can't hold a note. The admirable thing about Mouse, though, is that he actually admits that he can't sing, unlike many other aspiring singers I've had the misfortune of coming across.

Vocal inability

"Mi ah tell yuh bredrin, if is one ting I woulda pray Father God for, is fi gi mi one voice. Look pan mi, mi have di look and di will power, mi just nuh have di voice," he said, looking quite troubled. Unfortunately, Mouse decided to demonstrate his vocal shortfall by attempting to reproduce Whitney Houston's version of I Will Always Love You. It was an uncomfortable few seconds as the man made an attempt at the song. He had stopped a random woman crossing the street and was doing his best to serenade her. The woman burst out laughing and walked away, quickly. Mouse turned back to me as I was trying to stifle a laugh of my own.

"Yuh see what mi saying bredrin?"

Desperately seeking to avoid another demonstration of Mouse's vocal inability, I quickly changed the subject by asking him about life in Port Antonio.

"Well, Port Antonio nice, man. It cool because of di sea breeze and ting. Right now I don't see anywhere better dan right here. In fact, mi just build a tune fi di place," he said.

I tried to interject before the man could start singing, but unfortunately, I failed. Mouse cleared his throat and I braced for the worst.

"Oh Porti, oh Porti, will you be mine? My Darling Porti, love you all di time," Mouse squeaked. His eyes were closed tight as he struggled to hit the higher notes and it was during one of these opportunities that I made my escape around a corner and into the crowd where he would not be able to find me.

robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com

Join Roving with Lalah on Facebook today.

Not only does Brother Cox repair shoes, he also gives life advice to anyone who asks.