Cruz del Padre, or the Cross of our Father, situated in W. long. 80° 5´ and N. lat. 23° 11´—is about 27 leagues E. by N. from Matanzas. It is a long, narrow key, of whose size we could not accurately judge.—Around its North side about a league distant from the shore, was a semi-circular reef, over which the sea broke as far as the eye extended. It was a tremendous battery in a storm, and were I approaching it in an American squadron, I should fear its ground tier more than all the cabanas of the Morro. But hunger and thirst are powerful antidotes to fear. We therefore boldly approached it with confidence in that divine interposition which had been recently so signally displayed towards us. Availing ourselves of the deepest water and the swell of a sea, we were hurried on the top of a breaker, that shook our long-boat like an aspin leaf and nearly filled her with water; but in a moment she was floating on a beautiful bay that presented to the eye "the smooth surface of a summer's sea."
The Northern boundary of this bay was formed by the reef, making the inner part of a crescent—the Southern, by two long lines of mangroves on each side, and a small beach of beautiful white pipe clay, that formed the front of the little Island in the centre. The distance across was about three miles, two of which we had already passed, directly for the beach, a few rods from which as we had previously discovered, were two Huts, inhabited by fishermen, whom we could now see passing in and out. When at the above distance from the reef, our attention was suddenly arrested by the appearance of two wrecks of vessels, of too large a size, one would have supposed, to have beaten over the reef. As the water grew shoaler I could see an even pipe clay bottom, on which our boat grounded an hundred yards from the shore. One of the inhabitants came off in a flat bottom'd log canoe about 25 feet long and 2-1/2 wide, hailed us in Spanish, demanding who we were, and was answered by Manuel our Portuguese.
As this Spaniard, who was the head fisherman, came along side, he was recognized by Capt. Hilton as the same of whom he had purchased some sugars the voyage before at Matanzas.
The two huts we have named were formed of the planks and cabin boards of wrecks, about 7 feet high, and 10 by 15 on the ground, with thatched roofs. At the N. E. corner was a group of old weather-beaten trees, the only ones above the height of a mangrove on the Island, on which the fishermen hung their nets. In front of the beach was a turtle troll about 15 feet square, surrounded by a frame, from which were suspended a great number of wooden hooks, on which their fish were hung, and partially preserved, by drying in the sea breeze. It was about 8 o'clock in the morning when we were conducted into one of the huts, and as we had had neither food nor drink for nearly two days and nights, some refreshment, consisting of turtle and other fish, hot coffee, &c. was immediately provided.
After our refreshment, some sails were spread on the ground, on which we were invited to repose. My shipmates readily accepted the invitation; but I had seen too much of Spanish infidelity, under the cloak of hospitality, to omit an anchor watch, even in our present snug harbour.
There were five fishermen, all stout, well built Spaniards, the master of whom was over six feet, and had much the appearance of an American Indian.—My companions were soon in a "dead sleep," and when the fishermen had left the hut, I walked out to explore our new habitation. The two huts were so near that a gutter only separated them, which caught the water from the roofs of each and conducted it into a hogshead bedded in the sand, from which other casks were filled against a drought; the fresh water thus obtained being all the Island furnished. West of the beach was a small bay, in the centre of which was an Island about a mile in circumference. At the head of this bay a creek made up several rods into the mangroves, which served as a harbour for a small fishing vessel of about twelve tons, decked over, in which they carried their fish to Matanzas and elsewhere about the Island of Cuba. East of the beach was a Cove that extended about a quarter of a mile into the bushes, forming a kind of basin at its head, which was as still as a millpond. This basin was surrounded by thick mangroves, and completely concealed from every thing without by the jutting out of a point at its entrance. A more lonely place I never saw. Around its borders a "solitary guest," you might see the Flamingo[B] strutting in all the pride of its crimson plumage, as erect and nearly as high as a British soldier. The bottom of this Cove was like that of the bay.
[B] The Flamingo, it is said, builds its nest on the Bahama Keys. It is a superb bird, covered, the third year, with bright crimson feathers, except the tip of its wings, which are black. This appearance, added to its erect posture, which brings its head nearly as high as that of a man's, has given it among the natives the appellation of the "British soldier."
The mangroves are very thick,—their trunks covered with oyster-shells that adhere to them like barnacles to a vessel's bottom, which annoy those who attempt to pass among them, by tearing their clothes and wounding the flesh as high up as the hips.
Among the bushes were concealed two clinker-built boats, remarkably well constructed for rowing, with their bottoms greased or soaped; in one of which I found a handkerchief filled with limes: I took one and brought it into the house;—this displeased the fishermen, who afterwards told Manuel that the boats and limes belonged to some people at a small distance, who would return in a few days. There were also two yawls moored in front of the huts, that appeared to have belonged to American vessels.
When I returned to the hut, my shipmates were yet asleep, and we did not awake them until supper was prepared, which was much the same with our breakfast, except the addition of plantain. After supper we all set around the table devising means to get to Matanzas. Through Manuel, Capt. Hilton offered the master fisherman our long-boat and forty dollars in cash, on our arrival at Matanzas, which was accepted, and we were to sail in their small schooner as soon as the weather would permit. About 8 or 9 o'clock, we all turned in, but my suspicions would not allow me to sleep; for when all was silent, I could hear the Spaniards conversing with each other in a low tone, on which I spake to Manuel with the hope that he might understand the subject of their consultation; but he, like his companions, was too sound asleep to be easily awakened. A lamp of fish oil had been dimly burning for two or three hours, when the master fisherman arose and extinguished it. About this time an old dog belonging to the fishermen, commenced a most hideous howling without, that was occasionally answered by our dog within. Supposing some boat might be approaching, I went out, but could discover no living being in motion. It was a star light-night, the wind blowing fresh with a few flying scuds. When I returned into the hut, I set down between two barrels of bread, against one of which I leaned my head, prepared to give an early warning of any foul play that might befal us; but the night passed without any incident to interrupt the slumbers of my weary messmates.