It is well to know what to do and what not to do in the West Indies. Although many, like myself, would be naturally desirous to see Nature active in her volcanic haunts—for, apparently, as Jamaica is the natural habitat of the sugar-cane, so the Caribbean Sea is specially marked out for these fiery outpourings of Vulcan—I cannot recommend them to follow in my footsteps, if they value comfort in the smallest degree.
In my case it was Hobson’s choice. At the office of the Royal Mail Company at Kingston there was a vague talk of tourist ships, later on, being specially run to do this trip; but as no date could be given of their probable departure, or certainty entertained as to whether they would run at all, I resolved to travel by the s.s. Para. The cost of my ticket was £24; this was at the rate of £1 a day, for I expected to be in Jamaica again before the close of 1902. At the back of this ticket was written “with tourist privileges.” What those were I have yet to learn, for a more uncomfortable journey I never experienced than the fortnight I spent in this Company’s steamer, the E——. You are unfailingly reminded by its officers that the R.M.S. was incorporated by Royal Charter 1839, and since then has had the monopoly of trade with the West Indies, and you as often mentally wonder why they are letting such a good thing slip through incompetent management. The very mention, even, of the Direct Company’s name has, in some instances on board these steamers, been like a red rag to a bull.
Since, however, I made my journey to the volcanoes a new manager has come upon the scene. Things are changing, and one is glad to hear of a regular overhauling of both offices at home and ships at sea.
Personally, I never heard so much grumbling at sea in my life as I have from passengers travelling in these regions. Perhaps the heat makes them unwarrantably irritable. The prohibitive charges on freight have for years operated as the great hindrance to the development of the resources of the islands. Indeed, in the interests of the Company, it is well that things are being looked into.
The late manager of the Royal Mail Company was an admiral of the British navy, of whom many stories are afloat, showing that he was fearfully and wonderfully made to hold such an important post. Probably the man was an expert on shipbuilding and seamanship; most likely there his qualifications ended. For a purely mercantile undertaking, one cannot suppose a retired admiral would possess sufficient commercial experience to warrant his efficiency as manager. My own knowledge of naval men would incline me to the belief that they would rather laugh to scorn all suggestions of financial retrenchment.
There may be, however, some adventurous spirits, who, in the face of discomfort, will want once in their lives to visit these historical islands, and, however they go, they must trans-ship at Trinidad or Barbadoes, as I did, into the smaller ships of this Company. Of course they can go by Dr Lunn’s tourist parties, but everybody does not care to visit places in gangs.
The Para is a comfortable, steady ship, notwithstanding her venerable age. The Trent, with her sister-ship the Tagus, are very handsomely appointed vessels of modern construction, carrying good cooks.
We had a lovely run in the Para from Kingston to Trinidad; it took three days. We saw no land until we approached the Bocas, the two entrances into the Gulf of Paria, the Dragon’s Mouth, and the Serpent’s Mouth. This gulf is a shallow lake, and forms a harbour of enormous size, where ships of every nation, almost, ride at anchor.
We arrived at sunset, and the sky was a lovely rosy pink. The purple mountains of the island ranges, nearly two thousand feet high, divided the vast expanse of the heavens from the crimson waters of the harbour, lazily lapping the quay-sides of Port of Spain. Trinidad, discovered also by Columbus, is very hot and very prosperous. It belonged to the Spaniards till 1797, since which time it has belonged to us. Cocoa plantations flourish, and the Lake of Pitch is—and, I presume, will be for years to come—a magnificent source of never-failing wealth. From it large quantities of asphaltum are taken and exported.
Charles Kingsley raves over this home of tropical verdure, but I am not a naturalist, nor do I stay at Government Houses.