Pursell and myself, having admired this beautiful scene for some time, turned back, crossed the rocky promontory of East Point, and proceeded along the sands till we came to the Portuguese settlement, which I wished to examine more carefully than I had been able to do when here with the doctor a month before.
We had lunch by the side of the river which flows under the Portuguese ruins, and then commenced to explore. The Portuguese had certainly selected the only spot on the island at all suitable for a permanent settlement; for not only is there here the best supply of water, but there is also a considerable area of fairly fertile land, though it is greatly encumbered with rocks. The downs by the river are densely covered with beans, which also grow all over the ruined huts. It is possible that these beans were originally planted here by the settlers, and have since spread over all the downs between this and Southwest Bay; for they are not to be found on the other side of the island.
The huts, of which the rough walls of unhewn stone alone remain, are built in terraces one above the other on the hillside. A great deal of labour was evidently expended in the construction of these terraces, and of the roads leading to them, and quantities of stones had been piled-up in order to obtain a level surface. This must have been a picturesque little village in its day—whenever that day was, for, though I have searched diligently, I can find no record to show at what period Trinidad was used as a penal settlement by the Portuguese. Amaso Delano, writing of his visit to the island in 1803, speaks of a “beach above which the Portuguese once had a settlement;” and a still older narrative alludes to a Portuguese penal establishment here as a thing of the long past. Malley, who was here in 1700, took Trinidad in the name of the King of England—as I have already mentioned—and he says nothing of such a settlement.
Near the huts we found places where the soil had been cleared of stones, for purposes of cultivation, and there were several walled-in enclosures.
We saw a good deal of broken pottery and tiles lying about, not such as we had discovered in Southwest Bay, of Oriental manufacture, but of a very rough description, probably homemade. For, on the top of a hill overlooking our ravine, we came across a hole that had evidently been dug for the purpose of extracting a sort of clay that is there, and there were signs of fire near it, and many fragments of earthenware, so we conjectured that we were looking at all that remained of the ancient Trinidad pottery-works.
We did not return to Southwest Bay by the Sugarloaf Col, but by another route, which the shore-party had discovered in the course of a previous Sunday’s tour of exploration. This lay over the gap in the downs at the back of our bay, and presented no difficulties; but the soft soil and tangled vegetation made the climb a rather laborious one.
XVIII
A Voyage to Market
I remained on shore for a fortnight, during which the weather was fine, though a slight shower generally fell in the morning.
We had still a large supply of stores, both on shore and on board; but there was one article of food which we were consuming in much larger quantities than had been anticipated—the necessary oatmeal—and it was now found that but very little of it was left. It was, therefore, decided that I should sail to Bahia—our nearest market-town—with the yacht, and procure some more.
A voyage of 1,400 miles in order to purchase a little oatmeal sounds like a rather large order; but, as a matter of fact, it was more comfortable to be underway than to lie at anchor where we were, exposed to the ocean swell. So we did not look upon the journey as a troublesome duty.
My crew was to consist of Pollock and the three white sailors.
I put Ted Milner, the boatswain, on Pollock’s watch, and took Arthur Cotton on mine. John Wright did the cooking and kept no watch, though he was always ready to lend a hand if necessary.
On Sunday, December 29th, the whaleboat went off to the yacht for another load of stores, so that there might be an ample supply on the island during the absence of the vessel; for it was not possible to foresee how long we should be away.
On Monday, 30th, I returned on board, and, after the two parties had bade each other goodbye and good luck, the whaleboat went off to the shore with a last cargo of provisions. We now got the vessel ready for sea. We unbent the storm-trysail and storm-foresail, and bent the large foresail; being rather short-handed, we left our topmast housed during this voyage.
We did not weigh the anchor until 5 p.m.; we set the whole mainsail, the mizzen, foresail, and second jib. The wind, at first, was exceedingly light, so that we drifted helplessly about for a time, and we did not get clear of the island until after dark. I was thus unable to sail round to the mouth of Southwest Bay and satisfy myself that the boat had been safely beached. However, seeing that so many successful landings had been accomplished, I considered it unnecessary to hang about the island until the following daylight, so we shaped our course for Bahia. A moderate wind sprang up in the night and we soon left the island far behind us.
This was a most successful voyage. The wind was from the northeast all the time, right abeam, and therefore as favourable as it could be. There was not quite enough of it, however, and our best day’s work was only 154 miles. On one day it was rather squally, and we had to
