Smooth runnings 2

OK, back to the business of Jamaican spas. My plan was to circumnavigate the island clockwise in four days - via the radioactive mineral spring at Milk River, the hot sulphurous spa at Bath Fountain and the natural spring at Reach Falls.
We started our water quest in Montego Bay at the Casa Blanca, a graceful old building dating from the early 1930s, which snakes along the seafront next to Doctor's Cave Beach. Although there are plenty of alternatives for the Mo Bay tourist, none (to my mind) have quite the romantic atmosphere that pervades the Casa Blanca, with its wonderful marble floors and exquisite seafront location. You look out from the bar across the lucid blue waters stretching west towards Negril Point and fully expect to see Errol Flynn mooring his yacht - as once he did, when flash Buiks with big bumpers and white wall tyres lined the street outside.
Today, the Casa Blanca is owned by Norman Pushell, a Canadian who has lived on the island for so long his accent has picked up a distinctive Caribbean lilt, and his beautiful Jamaican wife Lorraine. (Mr Pushell's other great claim to fame is that he sold the Beach House to me and Merris(e).) I asked him how the neighbouring Doctor's Cave Beach had earned its reputation for curing illnesses. "Well, wouldn't you feel better if you left England every winter and spent a month or two lazing in the sun here?" he asked incredulously.
In fact, Doctor's Cave Beach dates from 1906 when a Mo Bay doctor donated his beachfront property to form a bathing club. Until 1932, when it was destroyed by a hurricane, the beach was entered through a hole in a cave - thus explaining its rather curious name. Word of its curative properties spread in the late 1920s when British architect Sir Herbert Baker spent some time there and later published a paper claiming he had been cured of various muscle and joint-related ailments. Doctor's Cave retains its slightly exclusive air - the club still charges a few dollars for entry - and it remains one of Montego Bay's most pleasant places to see and be seen.
The morning after our arrival was a classic, flawless Jamaican day, so we slipped off to the beach to try out our new snorkelling gear. Emerging from a marathon stint inspecting the reefs which fringe Doctor's Cave, I found myself gently expiring next to an elderly woman in a designer swimsuit. She enquired about my health. I mentioned something about the supposed healing properties of the sea hereabouts. We were chatting happily when suddenly my new friend asked me: "How old do you think I am?" I hesitated in my polite English way. She might be in her mid or maybe late 70s, I thought. "Well, I'm 92," she said. " I come here every year from New York in the winter. And I come to the beach almost every day. I still swim."
Elyse Whyte had run a travel agency in the US for many years, and she was still totally on the case. "I have email you know," she said. I could swear she was trying to chat me up.
I returned to the Casa Blanca feeling seriously optimistic. If this is what the ordinary Jamaican seawater does, what could we expect from the spas?