Narrative of the shipwreck of the brig Betsey, of Wiscasset, Maine, and murder of five of her crew, by pirates,: on the coast of Cuba, Dec. 1824. — John Shaqi
Narrative of the shipwreck of the brig Betsey, of Wiscasset, Maine, and murder of five of her crew, by pirates,: on the coast of Cuba, Dec. 1824.Collins, Daniel
History
Narrative of the shipwreck of the brig Betsey, of Wiscasset, Maine, and murder of five of her crew, by pirates,: on the coast of Cuba, Dec. 1824.
Collins, Daniel
Caribbean Area -- History; Pirates; Shipwrecks
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.
[Footnote 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.
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