Chapter 60: La Guaira

January 1814

The winds were rather unsteady, and it took the five men of war over three days to reach Mona Island in the middle of the eponymous passage. The ships and their officers functioned like a well constructed machine by now, sweeping the waters south of Haiti and Hispaniola like a giant, 40-mile-wide broom. Tony then split up his squadron, sending Menai and Cossack through the passage to North, whilst Saturn and the two sloops followed the southern coast of Puerto Rico, planning to rendezvous again south of the Virgin Islands, hopefully with the privateer trapped between them.

It was as good a plan as any, but then, Saturn and her consorts encountered a calm that held them in irons south of Puerto Rico for four days. The air was so still that not even the open gun ports helped against the developing stench belowdecks, and with Andrew’s permission, most hands slung their hammocks on the spar deck.

To perform sail drills in the dead calm was pointless, and Andrew had his crew drilled in small arms fighting instead. Gun drills interspersed with seamanship practice filled the rest of the days, and horn pipe competitions in the evenings made the men tired enough to sleep in the still air.

On the fifth morning, the weather gods relented, and a few weak puffs made the slack sails flap a little at first before the breeze steadied and the sails began to draw. Saturn shipped one of the precious chronometers, allowing for calculations of longitude and latitude, and Mister Cray’s navigation class determined that the currents had set them back to west by over eighty miles whilst they had been becalmed.

The weak breeze held steady for several days, and eight days after separating from Menai and Cossack, they reached the Leeward Islands, namely Guadeloupe, one of the designated rendezvous points. Indeed, when the approached Pointe-à-Pitre, the island’s capital and largest harbour, they found Menai and Cossack at anchor, but also a brigantine flying the Blue Ensign over American colours.

An hour later, Captains Stanfell and Bush reported how they had cut off the John F. Barrymore just out of range of the neutral Spanish guns of San Juan. The American captain, Mister Calhoun, was willing to offer resistance, but a misplaced shot over the bows from Menai felled the foretop instead, rendering the brigantine helpless, and she sensibly surrendered in the face of Menai’s 18-pounders. Captain Bush was proud of his success, but his official posting date made him junior to Stanfell by two months, who would write the reports. Still, both ships would share into the prize money, with Tony getting his one-eighth cut. It was good to be in command.

With an armament of eight nine-pounder guns and four 12-pounder carronades, the prize was likely to be snatched up by the Navy Board commissioner in Port Royal, although Tony expected her to be re-rigged as a brig for service in the Royal Navy. She would make a good convoy escort when paired with a post ship or frigate. The downside was that the Navy Board was notoriously slow with payments for its purchases. Yet, Bush and Stanfell could probably make good use of their shares, being junior captains.

As usual when in port, purser and stewards purchased fresh produce for officers and crew, and Tony paid a courtesy call to the British governor, Vice Admiral John Skinner. Skinner had held no sea commands since reaching flag rank, being employed as admiral superintendent in two dockyards, before getting the appointment in Guadeloupe, but he was in no way resentful over a rather young commodore in command of his squadron and treated Tony cordially. The had an early dinner with Skinner’s family, and Tony understood his host’s complacency when he was introduced to the lovely Missus Skinner. The young woman — she was barely in her mid-twenties — was a strong argument for shore duties, being beyond beautiful and charming. She was also of obvious West Indian heritage as evidenced by her high forehead and café-au-lait complexion. Leaving the Government House after dinner, Tony decided that he would not mind a shore command himself, if that meant to be with Harriet and the children again.

As it was, Skinner agreed to take the privateersmen off their hands — against a receipt of course — greatly reducing the number of hands needed to sail the Johnny B, as the hands had rechristened the prize. This was helpful and allowing them to have the prize sailing with them on a continuation of their cruise. Just twelve days out of Kingston Bay, Tony did not plan to return at once, rather giving the Duke of Manchester more time to forget about Andrew’s supposed indiscretion, hoping that out of sight — out of mind would work for them.

After sailing from Pointe-à-Pitre, they therefore continued in southern direction along the Windward Islands until Santa Lucia, where they turned to West. Those were well known waters for them, and after a week, they dropped anchor at Oranjestad, Aruba, once again. Here, Tony visited with the governor, the cooperative Rear Admiral Crewes, to collect intelligence about ship movements in the southern Caribbean.

He was received with a warm welcome by the old sailor, and over an improvised dinner, they exchanged information. Crewes had no knowledge of any enemy activities in the waters around Aruba and Curaçao, but he suggested to sail further west to the Spanish Main, and there to patrol the coast line northward. From what Crewes had heard, American slave traders were buying at the Spanish ports, rather than risking the trans-Atlantic route, where the British West Africa Squadron was patrolling for slavers. Tony agreed in principle, but decided to reach the Spanish Main at Porto Bello instead, the gateway to the Isthmus of Panama. There, he hoped to have even better luck.

After replenishing their water supplies, the squadron weighed anchor tow days later, sailing to west-northwest at first, and after rounding the Punta Gallons, turning to west-southwest. Tony also planned to touch Cartagena on the way. It could not hurt to ask Don Alonso for information. Cartagena de Indias had declared its independence in late 1811, and Don Alonso had been deposed as governor, but he served as advisor to balance republicans and royalists, being trusted by both sides, as Tony had learned from a letter by Maria from late 1812. Tony was anxious to find out about their current situation.

“Don Antonio, you are a true friend,” the elderly Don Alonso exclaimed, greeting Tony with an almost violent handshake in the vestibule of a rather modest house, not far from the former governor’s residence.

“I plan to patrol the Spanish Main in search for American shipping, and I could not pass on the chance to see you again, Don Alonso,” Tony answered politely.

“That is thoughtful. As you can see, I was forced out of my office, and I cannot entertain in style anymore, but consider my home yours to use.”

“You are too kind. I trust that you and your family are not in danger?”

“The Junta comprises men whom I have known for many years. They leave me alone, for as long as I will not incite unrest. My dear wife and son are well, too, and the quiet life into which I was forced suits me quite well. I only fear that the King may try to reconquer Cartagena, for that would throw us into a violent turmoil. In that case, I shall move inland to a hacienda I own near Villanueva. I wish only the best for Cartagena, but I shall not raise my hand against the Crown.”

“That is perfectly understandable, Don Alonso. I take it that you do not plan to return to Spain?”

“No. My possessions were destroyed by the French, and from what I understand, they were usurped by the local militia commander. I had thought him a friend, but opportunity makes thieves,” Don Alonso said sadly. “I sent a letter to file a grievance with King Fernando, but have not heard from him or his ministers. Your old acquaintance, the Conde de Alcala, is now high in the king’s favour; why, I cannot fathom. It is, however, perfectly clear to me that he holds a deep-seated grudge against me.”

“In my recollection, he is certainly petty enough for it,” Tony admitted. “Is there any way in which I may assist you?”

“No, but I thank you for the gracious offer.”

“I have always enjoyed your hospitality when visiting Cartagena. Will you accept my invitation to dine in my flagship in return? My officers will feel the distinction. Your esteemed wife and son are of course included in that invitation.”

“Far be it from us to scorn the invitation from an old friend and ally, my dear Don Antonio. When will be an opportune time?”

“Perhaps tomorrow, at noon? This should give my staff time for preparation.”

“I agree. In turn, is there anything I can do for you, save for acting against my king and my city?”

Tony shook his head. “Not really. Is there perhaps a gentleman of the acting junta whom you would advise me to invite, too?”

Don Alonso weighed that for a moment. “Señor Cristobal Cortez perhaps. He was put in charge of foreign trade. He is not a friend, but perhaps you will find him open for discussions.”

“Thank you for the selfless advice, Don Alonso. Since HM ministry is still undecided about its allegiances here on the Spanish Main, I have no authority for negotiations. Of course, knowledge of possible piratical activities in these waters will always be helpful. Sightings of American ships, too, but this may run counter to the interests of your provisional government.”

“Yes, our junta declared itself neutral in your conflict with your former colonies. I, however, do not feel bound by their directives. I shall see what I may find out for you.”

“You, too, are a dear and true friend, Don Alonso,” Tony answered.

After a few more assurances of friendship, Tony took his leave, and following Don Alonso’s directions, found the house of Señor Cortez, asking for a brief interview. The worthy man was at home and received the British admiral with obvious pride. Tony explained the reasons for his visit, to see an old friend and to gather possible intelligence about pirates, but he also extended an invitation to dine in the Saturn on the next day at noon, and Señor Cortez was only too happy to accept. With his wife in the family way and unable to accompany him, but he would bring his eldest son, also named Cristobal, to the dinner.

The midday dinner was attended by Don Alonso and Doña Maria, by the elder and younger Cortezes, Captains Lambert, Stanfell and Bush, and Commanders Cooksley and Ludlow. In the eyes of the British ministry, Don Alonso was still a governor appointed by the Spanish king, meriting a 19-gun salute, but the junta governing Cartagena was apt to see such a salute as a snub. Therefore, when the last shot had rung out, Tony turned to Señor Cortez and, with an innocent smile, asked him whether the 19-gun salute was correct for a member of the governing body of Cartagena.