Meet Miss Ronnie, the Creative Force Behind One of Jamaica’s Most Beloved Hotels

Not quite a boutique hotel and yet not entirely a personal design project either, Ronnie’s place sits—as so many things in Port Antonio, Jamaica do—in the sublime in-between. You may find yourself wondering if you’re here to listen to the lazy lapping of the lagoon, to appreciate the subtle schooling in bohemian-chic design, to try the breakfast smoothies freshly blended from local fruits, or simply to enjoy the casual intimacy of a spontaneous communal dinner with a few of Miss Ronnie’s local friends. Miss Ronnie, donning an apron and passing a platter of the best fried chicken you’ve ever inhaled, seems to know the answer: yes to all of the above. 

Known to locals only by her nickname, “Miss Ronnie” Elmhirst purchased the bayside property in 2012 in order to build and sustain a new life for herself as a single woman. “The place had been abandoned for 25 years, but it was quite powerful, an overwhelmingly good energy; I understood quickly that the land was witchy,” she says, while gripping a machete ready to clear vegetation. “There had to be a catch, right? But instead of running, I was compelled to just go with it.”

Over the decade-plus since, she’s channeled the otherworldliness of her surroundings into her transformation of East Winds Cove, crafting an experience that forgoes the formalities of traditional hospitality for something more intentional. You won’t find a website, and booking a room isn’t simple, although it is possible. You can try writing her a note through Instagram, but fair warning: “I am very particular about the kind of person I whisk eggs for,” she says. It’s a three-hour drive from the nearest international airport and the scabrous route through the steep Blue Mountain cliffs is equal parts stunning and terrifying. But from the moment you land, you get the distinct feeling that you’ve stumbled upon that rarest type of find—one worth keeping to yourself. 

As beachy and slow as life may appear in Port Antonio, however, it hasn’t always been easy. Miss Ronnie is quick to cite Jamaica as having one of the highest rates of femicide in the world. “Black women are the bottom of the heap; we have fewer rights than a stray dog,” she says. “It’s serious. But wherever you are, it’ll be a lifelong quest to find people who you can trust; folks that want to support you, friends who want nothing more than to see you fly. It’s a sign of the times.” (And perhaps the reason why she is the only Black woman in the parish to own waterfront property.)