My popular conversion to iPhone photography began on the lovely island of Barbados, at the Crane Resort, on February 18, 2011. That date, and that place, will forever be etched in my mind and heart—not because I had any grand plan to become a mobile photographer, but because something shifted in me. Quietly. Naturally. Irrevocably.
I remember standing on that breezy clifftop, watching the Atlantic light dance across the turquoise shallows. I raised my iPhone, almost on a whim, and snapped what would become one of thousands of frames that would shape the next chapter of my photographic life. That was the beginning.
Each and every time I return to the Caribbean, I feel it—this pull to look back, to ground myself in those early days when everything was new, wide open, and full of wonder. My mind wanders. My heart follows. The greens and blues. The unmistakable hues of mango and sea grape. The golden rise of sun and the fire-orange fall of it, dipping into ocean’s edge. The people. The laughter. The food. The unhurried pace. The calm. The chaos. The color.
This trip to the Half Moon Resort in Montego Bay, Jamaica—a jewel in the Salamander Collection of luxury properties—was no different. In fact, it brought everything full circle.
Half Moon is a rare kind of place. It doesn’t just welcome you. It wraps you up, lets you breathe again, and offers you the kind of spaciousness that makes you feel like yourself. As a photographer, especially one with an iPhone in hand, I couldn’t stop wandering. Every turn, every corridor, every garden path led to some small miracle of light and design. Palms swaying in coastal breezes. Horseback riders along the shore. Water as still as glass, then suddenly alive with ripples of cloud and color. Even the shadows felt like poetry.
What I love about photographing in the Caribbean—what I need from it, really—is the sense that everything is alive with invitation.
Nothing is forced. The light reveals. The colors seduce. You don’t have to hunt for beauty; you just have to notice it.
Half Moon gave me that gift again. The quiet mornings with coffee in hand, barefoot on the balcony. The buzzing afternoons near the sea, camera roll filling up with serendipitous joy. The slow, sacred sunsets where the whole sky seems to hold its breath.
It reminded me that my iPhone photography roots aren’t just about a camera. They’re about a way of seeing. And the Caribbean—this particular slice of earth and sea—taught me how to see more clearly. More deeply. More personally.
So here’s to Half Moon. And here’s to the islands. Forever part of my story. Forever where it all began.
Click.
Jack.
