I wondered what life would be like upon reaching the Island of my forefathers and mothers. I wondered whether my possessions that I had shipped to Jamaica would land safely and whether I would be reunited with them or whether they had sunk to the bottom of the ocean as the ship that made it’s way across the Atlantic, laden with the goods and chattels of other returnees, struck a wayward iceberg that had meandered it’s way from the arctic wasteland north of my departure point.