Old Fort Charles was still active, now the training ground for the Jamaican constabulary. We recalled that Nelson was in command here briefly in 1779, and his quarterdeck, where he was wont to pace and watch for French ships, is still preserved.
At the church we had a chance to see a Jamaican wedding, which is often solemnized only after many years of preconnubial bliss and large families. As a matter of fact, the two little flower girls in flouncy white dresses, who escorted the bride with her magnificent ruffled train dragging in the dust as she came up the dirt road to the church, were daughters of the bride and groom. This state of affairs is due not to lack of morals but lack of funds, as a wedding must be celebrated in proper style. If the length of the procession that accompanied the bride was any indication of the length of the guest list, the financial outlay must have been staggering.
The party following the ceremony went on all night, just beyond the wall that separated the dockyard from the village of Port Royal, but the music, unfortunately, was not calypso or West Indian, but a particularly penetrating selection of canned American hit tunes.
We sailed for the Canal on December 18, hoping to make it in time to pick up our Christmas mail. Nick, Ted, and I shared watches, two on and four off, while Barbara and Jessica, between them, accounted for three hours during the day. The system worked very well.
Our two passengers remained below decks most of the time. Nick was patently being ostracized by them, but he refused our suggestion that he join the family at meals, stolidly eating in silence in the main cabin, ignoring and being ignored by his former companions. We all felt the strain. Since it was now too late to go back, and even surface formalities had ceased to exist, we looked forward to the time when we could part company.
On the morning of the 22nd we sighted land, very faintly, off the starboard bow. Later in the morning a number of ships passed in the early mists, all heading in the same general direction, so we knew we couldn’t be too far off course. We headed south-southeast to pick up the coast more firmly, then turned south along the coast to the harbor entrance. By midafternoon we had passed the breakwater, noting that the four buoys at the entrance, shown on our “up-to-date” chart, were not present.
Dropping anchor in the merchant anchorage near the channel, we flew our flags and awaited developments.
15 GALÁPAGOS:
HOME OF THE LAST PIONEERS
“Those delicate souls whose coffee must be just so....”
We were at anchor, awaiting further orders, by 1530. Five hours later we were still waiting. During this time, ships arrived, were boarded, cleared, and allowed to move on toward the entrance to the Canal. Several times official launches passed, the officers gazing curiously at us and sometimes waving.