Aside from him and Sam and Joe, the only fixture was a red-haired, freckle-faced Montserratan boy whom I could not resist employing on account of his rich brogue and who served as cabin-boy, laundryman, and clown, and with the ready wit of his wild Irish ancestors kept us all in good humor throughout the cruise. [[22]]
[1] According to the most reliable records, the Vigilant was built in Baltimore in the latter part of the eighteenth century. Originally named the Nonesuch, she was intended for a privateer, but, the Revolution being virtually over before she was launched, she was sold and won an unsavory reputation as a pirate. She later turned privateer, during the War of 1812, and afterward engaged in the slave-trade until England’s anti-slavery crusade made this work too dangerous. She was then sold again, and became a notorious smuggler. Still later she changed hands once more, and under her new owner, a Danish West Indian merchant, resumed privateering with letters of marque from the Danish Government. In 1825 the Vigilant became a man-of-war. A Spanish privateer had been harassing the Danish shipping, and, all available Danish warships being too large to follow through the shallow channels where she sought refuge, the Vigilant was chartered and a company of soldiers [[7]]concealed upon her. As she cruised within sight of the privateer the latter swept down upon her, thinking her a helpless merchantman, only to be surprised and completely overwhelmed by the hidden troops. After this episode the old schooner became a peaceful mail-packet among the Virgin Islands. She has been repeatedly sunk and raised again. In the hurricane of 1876 she went on a reef off Christiansted, St. Croix, and again, in 1916, a hurricane sent her to the bottom in almost the same spot. Her rig originally was that of a topsail schooner, but this was later changed to that of a fore-and-aft schooner with gaff topsails. Probably very little besides the keel and timbers of the original craft remains, as she has been repaired from time to time during her long career. [↑]
[2] The origin of the colloquial name of “Bimshire Land” for Barbados and of “Bims” for its natives appears to puzzle many people. One writer in a well-known magazine went so far as to suggest that it was a corruption of “bam”! In reality it was applied to the island owing to the fact that Robert Bims (who was one of the earliest colonizers of St. Kitts), hearing of Barbados, went there with a party of settlers and took possession. Half-humorously and half-sarcastically (for it was generally believed the island was worthless) it was referred to as “Bim’s Shire,” a nickname which has always stuck. [↑]
CHAPTER II
ST. THOMAS AND ITS PAST
St. Thomas is very beautiful when seen from a distance, with its gray-green mountains rising above the sea, mottled with soft mauves of shadow and dazzling silvery sunlight—a mass of opalescent tints, as though the hills were carven from a giant pearl shell. And as the harbor opens to view, and the little town of Charlotte Amalie is seen spreading fanwise up its three hillsides in triangles of soft buff, creamy white, and red, it seems a bit of the Mediterranean detached and transplanted here in the Caribbean.
But it must be confessed that the enchantment is mainly loaned by distance, for St. Thomas is a barren, arid island. Charlotte Amalie—shut in by the hills—is unbearably hot; there is but one level street, and while steep lanes, often ascending in stairways, lend picturesqueness to the place, they are most discouraging thoroughfares on a sweltering tropical day. Moreover, St. Thomas, having ever been a world’s mart, a free port depending entirely upon commerce, has not the foreign, fascinating [[23]]atmosphere we find in many of the islands.
Its people, a marvelous potpourri of nationalities, of necessity have become remarkable linguists, with a smattering of virtually every civilized tongue, but they are neither picturesque nor interesting.