For a brief moment, the Rio Cobre seemed to come alive. The water was calm as a handful of people lingered outside Althea Cole’s roadside shop near Flat Bridge in St Catherine on the afternoon of June 20, 2021. Then, without warning, a flash beneath the surface caught everyone’s attention. A motorcyclist travelling toward Kent Village stopped at her riverside establishment after dropping off a passenger and joined the group gathered on the bamboo platform. “And everybody just inna one spot. Him fix himself good pan the bamboo, ’cause all along him face the road and him back turn to the river,” Cole recalled. Moments later, the rider glanced toward the water. “As him turn round so, him say, ‘Mama, nobody nuh deh inna the river a fish?’ Mi seh, ‘No man.’ And him say, ‘Nobody nuh inna the river a swim?’ and mi say, ‘Nobody man.’ River maid wap! Mi seh the flash weh she flash!” The sighting lasted only seconds, Cole said. “Yuh see when she flash the tail, because yuh can see her inna the water, but as quick as dem glimpse yuh, a fine dem gone,” she said. Moments later, the river erupted. “Mi a tell yuh, big, pretty, like is a fountain come up, enuh.” The dramatic splash stunned everyone gathered outside the tiny shop. Even Portmore, Cole’s dog, seemed unable to process what had just happened. “When him see it, him freeze,” she said before imitating the frightened whimper she remembered hearing. “Him couldn’t find the bark.” The motorcyclist was equally shaken. “The boy say him nah move him bike. A me did affi take up him bike from back a the shop carry go give him,” Cole said. Another man who had often laughed off her stories about river maids watched the commotion unfold. “That is the day him believe me,” she said. Five years later, Cole can still point to the exact place where she says the mysterious creature appeared. Standing beside what remains of a once much larger bamboo platform overlooking the Rio Cobre, the 64-year-old stretched out her arm, demonstrating how the tail broke the water. “Same like how yuh see me hold out mi hand, a so the tail flash inna the river and the water just come up,” she told THE WEEKEND STAR. Today, thick banana trees and tangled bushes conceal much of the river behind her shop. But back then, the bank had been cleared, giving those gathered an uninterrupted view of the water. “It come straight cross. The place did chop out and yuh coulda see the river clear,” she explained. “Yuh coulda sidung yah so and a watch the river. Anybody in deh, yuh can see.” For Cole, there has never been any doubt about what surfaced that afternoon. “River maid inna the river, of course,” she declared. “Same like how dem say dem see duppy, river maid deh deh, girl. A nuh fairy tale. Everything deh pan the face a the Earth.” The river maid, better known in Jamaican folklore as River Mumma, has occupied a special place in stories passed down through generations. Said to dwell in rivers and freshwater pools, she is often described as a mermaid-like guardian of the waters—beautiful, mysterious and rarely seen for more than a fleeting moment. Nowhere are those stories more deeply rooted than around Flat Bridge and the Bog Walk Gorge, where tales of unexplained sightings have circulated for decades alongside stories of tragedy. Flat Bridge, built in 1774, is one of Jamaica’s most famous river crossings. The narrow bridge and twisting roadway have been the scene of countless accidents over the years, with vehicles frequently plunging into the Rio Cobre below. For many who live and work nearby, the river is a place where danger and folklore exist side by side. Cole knows the river better than most. She learnt to swim there at age 11. She proudly describes herself as one of the oldest divers around the Bog Walk Gorge, a reputation earned after decades of plunging into the Rio Cobre alongside her late brother, Elli Nastasy Cole, to rescue crash victims and recover bodies. Cole believes river maids inhabit other sections of the Rio Cobre, including stretches near Spanish Town and old dam sites. But she insists she is not someone who is quick to believe every ghost story. “Mi is not a person seh quick fi see spirit,” she said, “but mi feel dem a the reality of life.” For the veteran diver, the Rio Cobre remains a place of beauty, danger, tragedy and mystery. And she has no doubt about what she saw from that bamboo platform in 2021. “River maid deh deh,” she said. “A nuh fairy tale.”