If the sunsets at Rick’s Cafe in Negril, Jamaica, don’t take your breath away, jumping off the cliffs definitely will.
Brazilian Beauty 
My new friend, Juliana and I rode our rented rusty bicycles to Rick’s Cafe, a trendy bar up on a hill. in Negril, Jamaica. Juliana is a beautiful, young flirty Brazilian woman. Her confidence came from thousands of selfies, unrelenting attention, and the oh-so-tiny white thong she wore everywhere. Whenever she walked into a room, men stepped aside like she was Moses parting the seas. I followed quickly in her wake before the crowd of hopefuls surrounded her and I lost sight of her.
Loud music played from speakers larger than the dancers in the pit. Most of the guests were American’s who escaped the confines of their all-inclusive accommodations. These patrons were easily recognizable by their tender scarlet skin. The color of their sunburn reminded me of the dusty rose hand towels that hung in my grandma’s bathroom. Their faces and necks got redder as they leaned their heads back and poured shots of rum down their throats. The alcohol never touched their lips.
Sunset
Our visit was perfectly timed to watch the sunset. We took a seat along a gently curving stone wall that resembled a serpentine lying at the ocean’s edge.
The restaurant was set up around this daily event. Unlike the New Year’s Ball Drop that falls in Times Square once a year, this golden sphere falls every night. As the sun got closer to the horizon, the reflection created a golden carpet. I imagined walking toward the sun on this path.
As the sun touched the sea, the sky changed to a captivating blue appearing as if the water was cooling the hot orb. Clouds surround the sun like curtains closing on an actor in a Broadway show. When the sun fell into the ocean, the chill of dusk rose and so did the music.
Cliff side
In addition to the spectacular sunsets, the restaurant is well known for cliff jumping. I saw a crowd forming around the cove and grabbed my friend’s hand and ran over to the excitement.
People lined up to jump off the jagged rock. “Let’s go!” I said as I pulled my dress over my head. I am always one layer of clothes away from a swim while on vacation.
Getting there
Bright yellow and red signs lined the steps like a picket fence. The placards read like the Grey’s Anatomy textbook, listing parts of the human body that could be injured when you hit the water. I’m not sure if injuries listed were possibilities or probabilities, but I continued to the next step. The big burly bouncer indicated it is my turn with a voice that is as smooth and dark as his skin. He recited the instructions just in case I couldn’t read.
I felt vulnerable standing on the edge of the cliff. People strain their necks looking up at me from the benches three stores below. I’m more fearful of their judgment than of the jump. Am I too fat? I suck in my belly. Is my bathing suit too small? I unconsciously tug at my swimsuit. Am I too old? When I realized there is nothing I can do about that, I focus on the task at hand.
The cliff is 35 feet above the clear water which is 35 feet deep. Looking down, it is impossible to distinguish the water from the seafloor making it look like I will be traveling 70 feet. My brain was busy calculating the possible pain when the bouncer broke my trance. He told me to curl my toes around the edge and to remember to keep my arms at my side when I entered the water. I nervously glanced at the crowd below and spotted my Brazilian friend frantically waving with excitement.
Going Down & Coming Up 
I inhaled in slowly and held my breath and stepped forward. The view of the horizon blurred as I fell and the gastric acid rose to my mouth.
“Arms down, arms down!” I screamed in my head and maybe out loud. My body met the water with a smack. I felt like a torpedo speeding through the water until it cradled me like a baby six feet under the surface. The cellulite on my bottom felt like I got stung by angry bees. I pulled my top down over my breasts left bare by the hungry fingers of the sea. A swirl of mercury-colored bubbles surrounded me showing the way to the surface. As I swam to the ladder I hoped to see nods of approval from the onlookers. But instead they are looking at Juliana.
