By Rosemary Parkinson For those who may not know, Norma Shirley (Norma's On the Terrace, SeaSplash Negril), Gary Fergusson (Rib Kage), and Colin Hilton (Guilt Trip) have joined forces to operate what can only become one of the hottest eateries in Portland ­ or Jamaica, for that matter. But what else could we expect from the three known for their passion for food and desire to see this island on the map for exquisite local cuisine?   Warmed by the corner's hospitality, I wound my way down the mountain. Beautiful. What a way it would be nice to have the railway back again, eh? Imagine Kingston to Portland by rail ­ the Jamaican Express ­ with drinks and tea and little sandwiches and cocktails at sunset. I truly love to dream. When Navy Island became visible I knew Port Antonio was near. The town seemed quiet on this particular Saturday afternoon. I have become so used to the market-day masses with baskets full of the week's provisions. Guess I was just a little too late for that on this day. At the square I veered left behind that Gothic-cum-Georgian-cum-Greek-cum-Roman building that sets this town apart and then went through the gates of the Marina operated by the Port Authority.   Soon I was delighting in a superb red peas soup accompanied by that devilish Oven Front whole-wheat garlic bread, garnished lusciously with Norma's famed spread. Next came Grilled Bangers and Sauté Potatoes that I noshed on with a glass of Flor de Los Andes, a good Merlot 2001 from the Chilean Maipo Valley. The name means Flower of The Andes (mountains). At that moment I was prepared to rename it Flower of the Blues since I was sipping this fine red under the gaze of Jamaica's own amazing peaks standing ever so pompously in the distance. The locally made sausages (Arosa) sitting on a nest of sauté peppers, zucchini and onions were grilled to perfection and juicy in the extreme. I ended this feast with a slice of Guilty Cheesecake married in harmony with a cup of Blue Mountain Coffee, both served by Wayne with zest. The sum total of this day was all I required for a good afternoon nap back at the hotel.   LOST IN TIME I sat gloriously at the water's edge, basking in the surroundings. What an incredible atmosphere. Serene blue waters lapped ever so silently on the sandy beach scattered with young coconut trees that gave just enough shade for those lolling in the deck chairs. There was no lack of space and all was quiet. It was like time had suddenly stopped. Wayne, the head waiter, brought me the most exotic cocktail from the bar ­ Island Mango Freeze. Bright yellow with swirls of red raspberry puree it was apparently not for me to know its true contents. The taste of fresh juice did not hide the euphoric feeling I got after two sips, making it plain that this drink was nothing less than an alcoholic bomber. As I watched, a large schooner-type yacht slinked out to sea ever so quietly, appearing almost sad to leave the port. As it slowly passed the lush green of Navy Island my mind drifted to days gone by when the swashbuckling darling of Hollywood, Errol Flynn, kept this spot as his personal playground. What times he, Ian Fleming and Noel Coward must have had together here. In his book, 'My Wicked, Wicked Ways', Flynn wrote: "Never had I seen a land so beautiful. Now I know where the writers of the Bible had got their description of Paradise." Under the stars that evening I raced back to The Marina where I dove into a whole, fresh, straight-from-the-sea steamed red snapper topped with carrots and okra and -- dear God ­ that bread again which was needed, of course, to sponge up all that great sauce. Bones were all that was left on this plate, honey, believe you me. When a steamed fish good, it's good and mi haffi eat de eyes and suck out di 'edd'. Thank goodness for real napkins ­ a luxury that Norma Shirley insists on. No paper napkins around here, Beach Grill or not. Rosemary Parkinson was last seen rowing out to Navy Island on a raft. She is under the misguided belief that Errol Flynn, Noel Coward and Ian Fleming will be there with cocktails.