A CATTLE egret stands on a mangrove branch in the Black River. Jamaica's longest river snakes through the Great Morass, a marshland that is home to a wide variety of birds and crocodiles. -- Andres Leighton, AP

Sugar angled his small fibreglass fishing boat up the aptly named Black River. The lightless water flowed through tangled mangrove roots, lapping at the pockmarked limestone ridges along its banks.

A fisherman who has moonlighted as a tour guide for a "long time," Sugar was confident of at least one crocodile sighting here. The Black River, Jamaica's longest, snakes through a 325-square km marshland known as the Great Morass that is home to a wide variety of birds -- including ospreys, herons, red-footed coots and egrets -- as well as crocodiles. Once common throughout Jamaica, crocodiles are now endangered, and this is their largest refuge.

The marshland's ungroomed charm is also perfect for those looking to venture off the beaten path -- or, at least, the beach. Less than two hours from Montego Bay, it's one of the few easily reachable places in Jamaica where unspoiled nature takes centre stage.

Given the loss of Jamaica's wetlands, the Great Morass is even more of a treasure. The same goes for its reptilian inhabitants. Despite their inclination to beg for food, the crocodiles are shy, more afraid of people than people are of them.

"Is Sugar a nickname?" I asked. Yes, he nodded, adding that his father, who had been a shrimp fisherman in these swamps, bore the same name -- Sugar Belly, a title given to someone who drinks lots of rum. Eyeing Sugar's prodigious gut, I decided against asking if the name was honorary or earned in his case.

Despite the noisy motor, the river was teeming with birds, including several hawks hovering above and a mangrove full of raucous egrets.

And there, floating motionless near a tangle of mangrove roots, the spiny armour of a crocodile.

Toothy jaws

This one seemed more bored than frightened, opening its toothy jaws in a yawn as Sugar circled for a closer view. Leaving it to its siesta, we headed farther into the swamp.

After a narrow stretch, the banks of the Black River widen and the vegetation shifts to saltgrass marsh, with shaded tunnels giving way to waving meadows of tall reeds. The view stretches for kilometres, the marsh rising into distant foothills.

As I scanned the banks for birds and crocodiles, Sugar pointed to another distinctive element of the Great Morass: Marijuana. The illegal crop is grown throughout the marsh by industrious locals. The dark green plant can be seen -- and smelled -- rising just above the reeds along the banks.

Opting for legal sustenance, we made a pit stop at Sister Lou's River Stop. The modest eatery features delicious baked crabs, served in their shells by Sister Lou herself, and we washed them down with a cold Jamaican Red Stripe beer.

Another one of the area's gems is Treasure Beach, a resort-free cluster of four bays less than an hour's drive from Black River. While resorts like Negril and Ocho Rios cater to the all-inclusive set and cruise ship denizens, Treasure Beach hotels such as Jake's aim to attract ecologically aware travellers.

The 15 cliffside cabins are run by Jason Henzell and his mother, Sally -- wife of Perry Henzell, director of the classic 1973 Jimmy Cliff film, The Harder They Come. Jake's is also host to one of the island's most vibrant literary festivals, the Calabash Literary Festival, held every May.

More information: Contact Jake's at 1-800-OUTPOST or visit www.islandoutpost.com. Good guide books will have information on Black River tours, but many visitors negotiate their own tours with local fisherman like Sugar. A leisurely trip of about an hour costs around $20 US.