Wendy's Perspective: Reggae on the River 2004

11.09.04

Photos and Review by Wendy Russell

The blast peppered the side of the motorhome. It was hot and dusty as I tried to escape the battle raging around me on my way to the river to soak my feet. I almost collided with a rag tag soldier wearing a wet tie-dye T-shirt wrapped around his head as he shot off another round at a kid holding a gun bigger than he was tall. The kid joined up with two older boys, and they disappeared into the crowd, firing at will, each armed with their own yard-long blue and orange super blaster squirt gun.

We all stay cool however we can at Reggae On The River.

Me, I'm on the way to the river to join thousands of people in the wet zone; hobbling over the round river rocks, scooting in between the tents and campers making up this temporary city of 12,000 reggae fans. Some of these party folks never even go into the actual festival to see the show, choosing instead to enjoy the campground with its night life and river scene, yet still hearing the music on stage since it blares from hundreds of car stereos all tuned into the festival's own radio station. I listen to Nasio Fontaine roar in simulcast from a hundred different speakers, as I stroll through this red, gold, and green village.

I have traveled the world and when I mention the word 'reggae,' three things come up in answer: Bob Marley, ganja, and Reggae On The River. I continued my trek upriver, alive with thousands of irie folks doing their daily habits, living chores and fun activities. Passing the rock sculptures I look upwards and see the Security encampments dotting the hills and encircling the event. Reggae on the River is very organized after 21 years of doing this. There is a thick Operations Manual that completely details all positions, coordinators, crews, contacts, site maps with marked coordinates, schedules, rules and regulations. RotR is the standard to measure all other festivals with. As a promoter, if ever I am stumped with a festival operations question I ask: How does Reggae on the River handle that?

My story is probably like that of many other Reggae on the River regulars. This is my 16th year. We first came as guests of Canada's Juno Award-winning Messenjah, for the one-day event headlined by Judy Mowatt, with Burning Spear receiving second billing, and tickets (now $150) were 18 bucks. We stay at the same place, in the same room every year; the wonderfully contrasting Benbow Inn, with its quiet dignity and English tea and biscuits at four o'clock. It's no use to try to move anywhere else: last year - only one week after getting home from Reggae on the River 2003 - a friend tried to get into the Best Western and other motels in nearby Garberville and it was already sold out for 2004! We did not bring our sons until they were 14, (supposedly old enough to not need us) and every February we would hurry to rent campsites at the State Campgrounds in the area for them, such as Richardson Grove or Benbow Lake Campground, before sites sold out. That first year just our two boys came, wide-eyed and wandering solo all weekend. They would not hang with oldsters such as us; once in the crowd one mumbled "Get me a T-shirt" as he passed by in the dark. The next year they came with their posse and we dropped them off at their campsite. The next day when we saw the boys again (probably at mealtime) we were shocked to see that one son sported a freshly shaved head, complete with uneven patches, razor nicks and a head-start on a sunburn, before even getting inside Reggae on the River! Some girl had talked him into it while hanging around the campfire the night before.

I say to newcomers: Anything can happen at Reggae on the River! Everything is at Reggae on the River! But the big question is, can you handle that? It's not easy to come here. It's often very hot. It takes travel arrangements and planning months in advance, plus money or trade-ables, supplies and equipment for at least four days, and for most of us it is far away, so reliable wheels are a must. And remember, when we start planning to attend the line-up has not even been announced--more proof there exists worldwide a trust in the Reggae on the River experience.

Now seasoned 'Reggae' returnees, our sons and their friends wait in line six hours real late Thursday night to get in Friday morning with thousands of other campers, all to set up camp before the music starts at noon with Native American opening ceremonies from Fred Coyote Downing and the Medicine Warrior Dancers. Some campsites are fantastic creations of visual colors and creature comforts such as colorful Nepalese tents, air-up beds, lava lamps, portable showers, cook stoves and blenders but some camps are pitiful piles of a few belongings spilled on the rocks. With all these eight-inch river rocks around, their usage abounds; as pathway borders, campsite walls, tables, dams, speaker platforms, sculpture and tent stakes. There are RV areas, car campers on smoother ground, four-wheel drive campers next to the river and even walk-in campers across the river, tucked under the tall cliffs reaching up to Highway 101. The primal African beats of Kekele plow the air as we wade barefoot in the river. Golden light bathes us all and the dust in the air gives everything a softer edge. Walking along the road towards the stage-front Photo Pit, I pass the airy, huge and beautifully simple Earthdance dome near the other gate into the festival. I can see my sons' campsite amongst all the other thousands because they marked it with a tethered turtle balloon that floats 30 feet in the air above camp as their address marker.

Earlier in the day I caught longtime RotR regular, movie and television actor Leon, now onstage with his own act, Leon and the Peoples. Apparently he can do whatever he sets his mind to do, because his set was smooth and polished pop reggae. But the traffic getting in and my own poor timing caused me to miss young Prince Rastan, backed by Soul Majestic. Throughout his few years, watching Prince Rastan mature both as a performer and a young leader of his peers has been such a pleasure to see. I am sure his turn on the mighty RotR stage went just as well. Backstage I saw Morgan Heritage walking around - a day before their own appearance - always a sign of a great event when the stars hang out too. Actor and RotR regular Danny Glover was here again, and rumors were that Bruce Willis and one of the Arquettes were in the crowd too.

When Luciano took the stage I was four feet from him in the Photo Pit. As always his joyous energy and powerful delivery of Jah message rocked the crowd. Once again powered forward by Dean Fraser and band the night became alive with Jah fire brought forth by the Messenger! I felt I was inside his performance as his very sweat rained down on me, there below him, snapping photos along with the other photographers. Gifts were showered on him by the audience; necklaces, buds, a T-shirt and other love signs.

During the rising star, Abdel Wright's short set, I again remembered what Black Uhuru's Andrew Bees told me once, "Only in the reggae music genre can talent and steady hard work get you as high as you were willing to reach for." Abdel has really been pushin' up for about the past two years. Throughout most of the wild set of Ozomatli I shopped, wandering through and around the crowded revelers, impromptu drum circles, jugglers, hackey-sak circles and other shoppers perusing the chock-full booths in the cool night.

I ended up Backstage just before midnight. I took a chance and ducked into Bunny Wailer's large tented dressing room, dragging Gramps from Morgan Heritage in with me. The legendary star was in a tight huddle in the corner with his cousins and male friends that I knew too, so I stayed and joined in. John Bent opened the conversation and I told Bunny how, as a DJ on the radio, I appreciated his ever-changing style and song, rather than him merely resting on past laurels singing the same few hits over and over through the years, as I feel some other foundational stars and bands had done. Heads nodded in agreement around the circle. I brought up one song in particular, "The Almighty is a Rapper" and then chuckles went around too. I felt humble and happy being there in that moment, because I vibed no blocks between us about me being a woman in that circle. Minutes later Bunny strode out on the stage in blazing white robes with red gold and green trims and ribbons. He seemingly glowed with white light as he launched into his two hour set giving us -- again -- so much.

Saturday began with a great breakfast at the Benbow Inn followed by the trip to "Reggae" on the Jah Motion shuttle bus, filled with happy reggae lovers heading for fun. At the Highway 101 drop-off I began the walk down the hill into the festival; down Bob Marley Boulevard and across the bridge, with sprawling yet orderly camps stretching away from me in all directions, amongst people of all walks and ways of life. I got to the Photo Pit in time to snap Warrior King, another magnificent, lyrically righteous musical messenger, so wise even though so young. He wore red that seemingly blazed up with his words; verbal swords fighting off Babylon.

I waded through the crowds towards the food vendors. I had to go around Loco Bloco, a big bunch of costumed people on stilts preparing to parade through the crowds. There was a 15 foot tall, white bird costume with outstretched fluttering wings. One woman, in her flashy red costume and tall stilts, just could not wait for the parade to start; she danced, waved her arms and pranced the whole time before the procession took off through the thousands of party folks.

After eating a tasty veggie wrap, I was eager to catch up with Mr. Vegas again and when I did, he called to me "Mom!" In his dressing room he was about to start a sign project: "Mr. Vegas loves Humboldt County and Reggae on the River" that he wanted to run out on stage holding to begin his set. As he began to put ink marker to the paper I saw his hand tremble ever so slightly - just enough to awaken the ex-sign painter in me -- so I volunteered to print the sign for him. It was typical wild Backstage antics around us, yet as I carefully measured and started the sign-lettering I became aware that I had a rapt audience engrossed with my every stroke in spite of all the commotion around: Mr. Vegas and a boy of about five. It was an intimate, small moment in the hubbub around us. When I finished, Mr. Vegas grabbed up the sign, attacked the stage and revved up the crowd to a frenzy with the boom tunes! The backing band, California's Detour Posse, really rocked too, providing lively background action. When I looked back over the crowds behind me a thousand hands were held high, all bobbing in unison to those catchy beats of his.

In the starlit night of RotR hopelessly star-struck even after all these years, I popped into Barrington Levy's tent. He held his arms out wide, enveloping the entire room in its largess: "Smiles!" he warmly exclaimed, just as I was asking if he remembered me. I guess he does! He was so relaxed, talkative and seemingly in control of all around him, like a confident, powerful king on the throne. I could call him a foundational star of reggae and the dancehall that has ever-evolved with quality throughout all his years on stage and it would go undisputed! Ana Avital from Saratoga, NY came into the tent and she recorded a killer station I.D. for my radio show. On my reggae show on Satellite Radio Bilingue, Barrington is one of the top five reggae artists requested year after year. I was thrilled! When Barrington hit the stage he notched up the thousands of people even higher on the irie scale! I could hear everyone singing his hits along with him. He looked so smooth with a couple of touches of gold jewelry, white street clothes, a baseball cap with a blue 'B' on it, and the moves of a veteran master performer. We all danced into the night.

And we grooved on through Morgan Heritage’s stellar set, more proof positive of the fine effects of children growing up Rasta, Morgan Heritage, one branch of a musical dynasty, moved the the crowd forward on their own positive sound and lyrical power to a deeper roots overstanding of what we need to survive and how to wisely use our time here, by giving love to our fellow humans.

I am a 'roots' gal, so after Morgan Heritage's 75 minute set I opted on missing Bounty Killer and Capleton's performances late Saturday night going into Sunday morning, only hearing a song or two of Bounty Killer's as I shopped my way out the gate, back to Benbow Inn and blissful sleep.

As I went out for an early Sunday morning walk through Benbow Inn's flower gardens and down to the river, I could feel the day promised to be warmer than the previous days.

Really, I could not speak of Reggae on the River's past and present times without mentioning the first band on Sunday's line-up, the I-Deals, even though I missed their set. This was the return of a RotR and Northern California "icon" band: originally Rod and the I-Deals of years past. Rod died an untimely death and thousands mourn him even to this day. The second act of the day was Bayanga, a Puerto Rican reggae band that had been in my town, Fresno. I am 100% sure Bayanga gave the massive a lively exuberant show!

We were a crowd of energized survivors up and ready to go at the crack of well, 11 am or so after a long weekend packed full of music with more to come. We’re bonded together by almost living together, tight for three or four days. A huge crowd of blanket swaddled babies, topless women adorned with paint, loinclothed men, sunscreened toddlers, Rasta elders in dashikis... people robed, wrapped, bare, costumed, swim suited, even wearing middle America’s uniform of denim shorts, T-shirts and sneakers... by Sunday we were all one, in that way that comes with living through the extreme experience.

The crowd was abuzz verbally too: at the Dome last night it had been the perfect wild place to be if you just could not sleep, packed with wild music and wild people. About Midnite, "Were they here yet?" And Backstage, "Would they be in the Press Tent for interviews?" Buzz too about the night before: an impressive Bounty Killa set (Too much “Batty bwoy” some said) and a pretty good Capleton offering. “More fiyah!” others said. Some folks wondered if Capleton was held back by the differences between a northern California audience and a Jamaican - or even a southern California - audience.

The fiyah was most certainly blazing in the Midnite tent however, with lively reasoning coming forth from Vaughn Benjamin, lead singer of Midnite. (“Evil spelled backwards is Live... Love backwards is Evol (evil)... ”) Midnite is one of my two favorite bands in all of reggae and I am able to reconcile Vaughn’s stern manner with reggae’s message of love and unity because of my times booking and touring with other such serious rastas--the Twinkle Brothers (my other favorite band). I remember Ralston Grant admonishing me about touring as a most serious business when I wanted all of us to go to nearby Glacier National Park while in Montana; “We must prepare daily - as if for battle! There is NO time for fun!” he said.

I saw the sweet side of Vaughn after a young man talked his way backstage holding a large, unfinished red gold and green oil painting bearing the rasta lion, asking everyone in the dressing room if he could paint during Midnite’s set with himself being on the huge RotR stage ... but he was brushed off. Quietly I said to Vaughn, “It is a big thing to be on the stage, that’s why he wants to paint that painting on stage, people would see him and...” “It would help him?” Vaughn asked, interrupting me. “Yes, it would help him” I replied, “he probably hopes to sell that painting afterwards.”

When Midnite took to the stage, there was the young painter working on his canvas on stage. Midnite then graced us with mighty Jah’s music as only Midnite can. This band is the future of reggae, the next Bob Marley and the Wailers, the hottest to hit in oh so many years, so innovative, fiery and yet professional and reliable too, Midnite continually explodes forward with righteousness, riddims and Rasta reasonings. As we all danced, tight together in a spiritual high, a tear came to my eye in spite of my joy. This is how it could be. We are all one here.

After that irie experience we had dinner with the vendors (most food booths here are local civic organizations and this is often their largest yearly fundraiser) and then went around to shop one last time, visiting with friends all the way while listening to the easy sounds of the Easy Star All Stars doing Pink Floyd in the reggae stylee.

After that break I headed back to photograph reggae superstars Steel Pulse on stage. Earlier I had seen the lead singer, David Hinds, surrounded by women asking about his dreads - especially that one big natty he has, and he had nodded hello. But since then the vibes had changed Backstage with the arrival of their huge tour bus, backed up right next to the stage and blocking half the area. Suddenly the we-are-one atmosphere shifted slightly, shaded by separatism and elitism. Backstage is peopled mostly by musicians of course, plus radio DJs, media and print press people, photographers, club DJs, promoters, Staff and working RotR crew, roadies and others that earned that right to be there by promoting reggae to the people, each in our own small part of this big world. So when I was blocked from entering the Photo Pit it was a downer.

It turns out that in my absence Steel Pulse had issued new Photo Passes, but I was not there and now it was too late to get one. It was too bad because they didn't play the same old set either; this time it was a new, exciting set! Steel Pulse sounded perfect and it was a great show, deserved of coverage! It got me down: we were not all one here, after all.

Reasoning, I faced that instead the cup should be thought of as half full, not half empty, so I was happy again. Next on stage was Michael Franti with Spearhead, so popular a performer that he returns every year to the RotR stage (one more wise move from People Productions). In a perfect world HE would be a choice on our ballots in the November elections. What a man! What a man of strong convictions and beliefs, who commands every stage, bringing us to attention and then delivers right to our core his powerful messages regarding this world and these times, and all of that to a funky get-down, hip-hop, lively-up-yourself bass-pounding musical mishmash that had the thousands jumping up and down, all synchronized to Franti doing the same actions on stage. Wow!

The night ended with calls to activism, while a steady stream of people headed back to their camps, many leaving to face work the next morning. The crews would spend the next three weeks returning the river beds, camp lands and hillsides back to Nature.

Wendy Russell, promoter in Fresno, CA for twenty years is now Festival volunteer, organizer, writer and photographer, and also editor of Reggae Festival Guide. She is a radio DJ on Satellite Radio Bilingue nationwide, worldwide at www.radiobilingue.org