Cordial relations were soon established between ship and shore, however, and the Spanish Governor of Sambongue and his sons went on board to make a friendly call. “We had made every preparation in our power to receive them with the greatest respect,” says the journal. “His sons were as bad as Indians. They wanted everything they saw. Captain Barnard presented them with a day and night glass. They in turn sent a boatload of cocoanuts, upwards of a thousand, and some plantain stalks for the live stock, some small hogs, two sheep, a small ox and goat, but the live stock was for the passengers. The same evening the Governor’s sons returned on board and brought with them six girls and their music to entertain us, but the ship was so full of lumber that they had no place to show their dancing. However, we made shift to amuse ourselves till three in the morning. The current then turning and a light breeze from the northward springing up, we sent them all on shore, they singing and playing their music on the way.”
The following day, November 7th, saw the Lydia under way and William Haswell, with cheerful recollections of this island, found time to write:
“The town of Sambongue is a pleasant place and protected by fifty pieces of cannon, the greatest part of them so concealed by the trees that they cannot be seen by shipping. This proved fatal to two English frigates that attempted to take it. They landed their men before the Spaniards fired. The Spaniards destroyed two boats and killed, by their account, forty men, one of them a Captain of Marines. The English made the best of their way back to the ships. One of them got aground abreast of the Fort and received great injury. This is their story, but we must make allowance. One thing is certain, the British left the greater part of their arms behind them. The English account is, the Fox, four killed and twelve wounded, the Sybille, two killed and six wounded.
“The English have so much of the Malay trade that but little comes to the share of the Spaniards, and in the words of the Governor’s wife there is plenty of cocoanuts, water and girls at Sambongue, but nothing else. I was well pleased with the inhabitants, as they did everything in their power to serve us.
“November 8th. We had fine weather, light winds and those easterly, so that it rendered our passage long and tedious. Our passengers were very anxious to arrive at the island where they were to be the head commanders, a station they had never before enjoyed. The Friar was praying day and night but it would not bring a fair wind.
“... Jan. 4th. 4 P. M. we set all steering sails and stood to the westward and got sight of the Islands of Guam and Rota. Next day we had light winds and calms. We steered for the north end of the island and at five P. M. found it was too late to get in that night. Reeft the topsails and stood off and on all night. At 4 P. M. set all sail to get round to the S. W. side. At 10 A. M. saw the town of Aguana[33] and at one we entered the harbour at Caldera. A gun was fired from the Island Fort, at which we came to and handed sails, the ship rolling very heavy. A small boat came on board to enquire who we were. As soon as they were informed that the new Governor was on board, they set off in the greatest hurry to carry the information to Don Manuel Mooro, the old Governor.
“The breeze continuing, we got under weigh and beat up the harbour. They placed canoes on the dangerous places and by 6 P. M. the ship was up and anchored in sixteen fathoms of water, sails handed, boats and decks cleaned. At midnight the Adjutant came on board with a letter from Don Manuel wishing our passenger, Don Vincentz Blanco, joy on his safe arrival and informing him that the boats would attend him in the morning.
“Jan. 7th. Accordingly at 6 A. M. three boats came on board, one of them a handsome barge, the crew in uniform, a large launch for baggage, and a small boat for the Judge and his two servants. At ten the Governor, his Lady, and suite left the Ship. We saluted with nine guns and three cheers. We then went to work to clear ship.”
At this place in his narrative the first mate of the Lydia turns aside from the pomp and fine feathers of the new Governor’s reception to tell of the hard fate of another vessel.
“We saw a ship heaving in sight and not able to find the passage over the Reef. I took a small boat and went out and found her to be an English ship in distress. I piloted them in and brought them to anchorage near the Hill Forts in thirty fathoms of water. Their story is as follows, that the ship was taken from the Spaniards on the coast of Peru and carried to Port Jackson, New Holland, and condemned. The present owners bought her there and went with her to New Zealand to cut spars which they were intending to carry to the Cape of Good Hope. But the ship going on shore and bilging herself, delayed them some time which occasioned a greater expenditure of provisions than what they expected.