St. Elizabeth Parish, in the southwestern part of Jamaica, where the land slopes down from the Santa Cruz Mountains to the dry Pedro Plains, is sometimes called Jamaica's desert; its little lanes are hemmed in by dry shrubs and even cactus. Life here in some ways still seems to belong to the past, following the rhythms of the small farms on gently rolling land and the scattered fishing villages; absent are the gated compounds and mega-resorts of the island's more famous spots, like Negril and Ocho Rios. As we entered, a welcome sign read, "In this parish we work, not shirk." We were heading for Treasure Beach, a sleepy seaside borough with some guesthouses, a few bars, and a small ice factory.

At the heart of the village is Jake's, a bohemian hotel of twenty-six mostly adobe cottages, two restaurants, and a bar, all stretched along six acres of rugged coast that spills onto a long crescent beach at one end of the property. At the center of Jake's is a saltwater pool that stretches from the roots of an ancient shade tree to the thatched shelter of Dougie's Bar, Dougie being the taciturn bartender. As I sipped a Red Stripe, a local fisherman glided up in a skiff and unloaded a few kingfish for the evening's dinner.

Jake's started as a restaurant in 1993, when Sally Henzell named it for the cranky old parrot that ruled the roost. An artist and the widow of Perry Henzell, the filmmaker who made Jamaica's cinematic anthem, The Harder They Come, Sally soon added cottages to her restaurant to accommodate an endless train of visiting friends. Before long, she was renting those cottages out to guests. Each cottage is unique, with walls that tend to curve and slope playfully and with green, brown, and blue glass embedded in the concrete that reflects colored light. Aloe vera lines the red tile paths—if you get sunburned, its soothing gel will help heal you. Most of the suites open onto patios or verandas; mine had two wooden lounge chairs and a view of the sea. At night, sweet air blew through a large wooden window guarded by rustic shutters. A mosquito net hung over the bed as a last line of defense against the few bugs that hadn't been pushed away by the warm sea breezes.

When it became clear that Jake's had grown into a hotel, Sally asked her son, Jason, to join her in running it. "I was in commercial banking at the time," said Jason, whom I met one afternoon by the bar. "But I saw in this a real opportunity to do something different, to develop this business in a way that would help the whole community." Under his influence, Jake's has become a key piece of the alternative development movement in Jamaica.

"More than ninety percent of what Jamaica consumes is imported," said Jason. "Even the fish and fruit used in many of the big all-inclusive resorts is shipped from Florida and Central America." As part of Jake's socially responsible vision, it sources most of its food from six St. Elizabeth Parish farms that have gone organic—or ital, as the local farmers put it. All the fish is locally caught. Jake's staff are hired from the surrounding area (I was surprised to find out how often hotels import trained staff). And to ease stress on the waterways, Jake's has built two small sewage treatment plants.