Heart of the Marleys

Heart of the Marleys BY MICHAEL MCKNIGHT

An impromptu family reunion takes shape. Everyone piles into three cars and heads to Hellshire Beach, one of the few places where Rohan’s dad still flickers in his memory. Bob would run with his children there, but it was not a jog. Everything was a race with him, and the slightly built rock star never once let Ziggy or Cedella or Stephen or Rohan or anyone else beat him. It’s clear that the swimmers recognize Rohan and his brother Julian, 39, yet another Grammy-nominated Marley recording artist. The Marleys smile and splash and juggle a soccer ball with the other beachgoers, but they are not asked to pose for photographs. That’s not because of a security team or because people are afraid to ask, but “because they’re used to seeing us here,” Rohan says. “We grew up here.” In one of the meager huts along the shoreline, lobsters and snapper that were drifting around swimmers’ ankles that morning are laid on a table and quickly devoured by the Marley clan, who wipe up the spicy remains with festival (sweet fried bread). Bali Vaswani, president of Marley Coffee’s Jamaican operations and a longtime family friend, often serves as the silk to Rohan’s sandpaper. He checks his phone and updates his boss about a developing retail opportunity in Korea. Rohan’s success didn’t happen overnight. More like 10 years. Among the complications was the vague Rastafarian edict about abstaining from caffeine, but during a 2007 pilgrimage to -Ethiopia -- the cradle of the arabica bean, a place where his dad’s music seemed to play -constantly -- Rohan saw clearly that he was walking the right path. He is constantly traveling, so get-togethers like this one with his sons are rare. The boys are not practicing Rastafarians, but they know enough about the faith for all three of them to look toward the sky after each premeal prayer and to blend amiably with the people around them at Hellshire, who make as much in a month as the cost of the iPhone that Joshua dropped in the sand. A film crew from Sports -Illustrated accompanies the clan to Trench Town, where the security of the equipment van is questioned. Rohan bristles -- “What you mean somebody have to watch the van?” he asks -- because it’s insulting to the people of Trench Town. Those people are underdogs too, his glare says. Nico Marley runs up behind his football coach, claps headphones over the 52-year-old man’s ears and says, “Listen to this!” -- surprising- Johnson not with modern trap music but with songs from Johnson’s own childhood, immediately improving his day. “Here’s what they do that’s so impressive to me,” Johnson says of Rohan and Nico. “They have a serious side -- dead serious -- but I don’t think they’ve ever had a bad day. They don’t think they’ve ever had a bad day.” www.ganolifevo.com/ganoforlifeusa