In the distance, muffled rumbling announced an approaching thunderstorm. We had to hurry to reach the protected Port Morgan Bay before nightfall. Our depth gauge told us not to trust our charts too much. In places where it should be 10 meters deep we found hardly 2 meters space under the keels. Fortunately the water was very clear and you could see where it was getting critical. We had to navigate mainly on sight to avoid getting too close to the dangerous reefs.
Today's maps are a little more accurate but not much more helpful than those of the privateers. One could guess how many ships must have sunk here over the centuries. So it was somehow important to be anchored in Port Morgan again during daylight.
Villem and his friends Wagner and Nixon had accompanied us to the Ile Permantois to interpret and introduce us to the locals. Especially Wagner was interested in our boat and how everything worked. He dreamed of one day becoming a great captain and earning a lot of money with it. I thought about it for a moment and asked him: "Would you like to try it? He looked at me in surprise. "You mean I can take the wheel?" Sure, why not?" and we had the proudest Wagner ever on board. He grinned from ear to ear and wanted me to take a picture of him steering this catamaran. Nobody else at home would believe him. It was a big deal for him, so we let him sail the whole return trip alone.
Meanwhile, another boat had arrived with relief supplies from the USA and had joined us in the bay. It was the La Victorya, a ketch from the Evangelic Islander Ministry.
A guy with a wild full beard, cowboy hat and sunglasses waved to us friendly from the cockpit as we sailed into the bay. It was Pastor Bideaux, a priest and missionary from Florida who has been caring for the island's people for over 30 years. He spoke Creole fluently and was widely known and respected. With the La Victorya we now had a total of three boats with water treatment systems on board. Together we produced about 500 liters of drinking water per hour. The tandemeer and the Victorya each laid pipelines directly from the boat to the cisterns on land and kept the units running around the clock. With our rig we filled our own tanks and additional canisters to distribute the water to the surrounding islands. In this way we were able to restore a kind of basic water supply.
Several weeks had already passed since the hurricane. However, there was no sign of the hoped-for international aid. Except for the cargo from Venezuela, no one had yet appeared here. My stomach turned to the thought of how many millions had been collected for Haiti in our so-called civilized world...
If you want to have fun, you can ask for proof and evidence of what Glückskette and Co. have done with all the money for Haiti. We were in the middle of the disaster area for over half a year and apart from our own teams, I never met a single Swiss, Austrian or German during the entire time I was down there, especially not to help. But these three countries alone had already collected many times what would have been necessary to rebuild the whole region. One has to keep in mind that in Haiti the standard of construction is somewhat different and the costs cannot be compared to European construction projects.In Les Cayes and on the remote islands that were hit the hardest, none of this money made it to the islands. One could think that the so-called aid organizations after the Red Cross scandal in 2010 would have been a little more cautious, but this was not the case.
In the evening we often met on the tandemeer for dinner. Sequoia, the captain on board was also a talented cook and had again cooked a delicious smelling lobster stew for everyone. Everyone shared the highlights of their own trip to Haiti and all kinds of tales were told. Pastor Bideaux shared how he was hired as a skipper for an expedition some years ago. They wanted to find HMS Oxford, the lost flagship of the privateer Sir Henry Morgan.
In the 16th century the bay off Ile a Vache was a large pirate port. The pirate prince had captured French and Spanish ships at that time and gave the victims a choice. Either they would voluntarily join his pirate army, or they would be executed. Most of them decided to live a long life as pirates and so Henry Morgan was in command of a huge armada of more than 100 pirate ships which all waited in the Baja la Ferret in front of Ille a Vache for the start of the big raid on Panama. According to history, HMS Oxford exploded and sank in 1669 during a barbecue on board off the island. Until today the Oxford is officially considered lost. There were no exact records of where the ship sank, but she was certainly not in Port Morgan.
With a twinkle in his eye, Bideaux said: "They don't know, they have no idea. But I know where it lies. The cannons, the wooden construction, the anchor, it's all there. No doubt, I have seen Morgan's Oxford. He found a kind of golden scepter at the wreck and brought it ashore. He had given it to the then major of the island for further investigation. The Major had taken the scepter to the USA and was never seen again. It was made clear to him that he was not allowed to approach the artifacts without permission. They even threatened to put him in jail, but he never told them where the wreck was. It was almost impossible to recover anything without heavy equipment, he said. Over the centuries, a thick layer of sediment had covered the wreck and everything was covered with coral.
He wanted to preserve the wreck as an underwater museum for tourists. This would boost the economy and the island would benefit in the long run. Unfortunately, the government did not see it the same way he did and the fronts hardened. They did not know where Oxford was and did not have the capacity to uncover the ship and recover the artifacts. But they did not want to give the order abroad for fear of fraud and so nothing more happened. Bideaux was apparently even under surveillance for a while in the hope that he would return to the site and betray them. This is exactly what he had expected and he never came close to the site again. He went diving at night with conspicuous lighting in completely different places to lay false traces.
For a priest, Bideaux was a big shot anyway. He was from the Steinhachee area of Florida, where it is good manners to be armed to the teeth. So a few days later I asked him how he had experienced the coastal region when he had been commuting back and forth between Florida and Haiti for so long. I wanted to know if he had ever been attacked by pirates. Twice, he said. Yes, twice they tried Cape Tiburon, but it didn't work out. Surprised, I looked at him and asked: "What happened? The first time they came with a skiff at dusk and wanted some diesel. I knew that this was only an excuse and refused. Already they came along the Victorya and threatened with an old rifle and machetes. He told how he then raised his voice and roared to them in perfect creole: I am Pastor Bideaux ask your village elders they know me. You are making a big mistake. I will not judge your souls, only God can. But I will arrange your meeting with him if you do not leave immediately. With a sweeping turn he had brought out a sawed-off shotgun from behind a pillow and grinned broadly while presenting his opinion enhancer. My prayer jab here hits nothing, but it makes enough thunder to convert any unbeliever. They suddenly had enough fuel again to leave at full throttle. The priest laughed and showed a Colt, a Pump Gun and some other nasty things including lots of ammunition he had on board. The word of God should not be contradicted and to attack a priest was obviously a very bad idea. "Sure, so far, ...and the second time?" I wanted to know. He laughed and replied: "The second time, they only came that close until they recognized the La Victorya. They remembered and suddenly had something else to do."