Dominica
Dominica was one of the last Caribbean islands to be colonized by Europeans, the Caribs successfully resisting several European attempts at settlement until the French finally secured a foothold on the island in 1635. Thereafter, as with so many Caribbean islands, Dominica changed flags several times as the rival maritime powers of Britain and France repeatedly locked horns in a struggle to control to control the lucrative Atlantic trade in slaves and sugar. Dominica has a forbidding topography, with more volcanoes per square mile than any other nation on earth. It has no white strands and hence has been spared the worst excesses of beach-based tourism. It is one of the few places in the Caribbean where pre-Columbian peoples still survive. A British possession in modern times, it became autonomous in 1967, gaining full independence since 1978.
Fort Shirley is a splendid symbol of Anglo-French rivalry. The entire Cabrits peninsula, now a national park, was fortified by the British against the French with an elaborate sequence of fortifications dominating Prince Rupert Bay, a fine natural harbor that was in frequent use by European mariners throughout the age of sail. After an introductory presentation by local historian Dr Lennox Honychurch, a group of us were taken by him on a tour of the fort, now being lovingly restored with the help of grant aid from the European Union. From the fort we had wonderful views over the bay, with Sea Cloud II alongside below. Blue hummingbirds fed off nectar blossoms beside the former officers' quarters, the restoration of which impressive Georgian structure is now nearing completion. Another group had departed early to walk the Syndicate Trail at Morne Daiblotin, a chance to walk in the tropical rainforest and search out the elusive national bird, the Imperial Parrot or sisserou.
Back on board, the crew hit the rigging and we sailed out of the historic harbour beneath serried ranks of Georgian cannons for a spectacular afternoon under full sail. Before long we passed another traditional bark, the Canadian Picton Castle sailing out of Nova Scotia with a trainee crew, a rare but heartening scene, reminiscent of a Patrick O'Brian novel, when we were privileged to fully participate - out of time - in the Age of Sail.
Dominica was one of the last Caribbean islands to be colonized by Europeans, the Caribs successfully resisting several European attempts at settlement until the French finally secured a foothold on the island in 1635. Thereafter, as with so many Caribbean islands, Dominica changed flags several times as the rival maritime powers of Britain and France repeatedly locked horns in a struggle to control to control the lucrative Atlantic trade in slaves and sugar. Dominica has a forbidding topography, with more volcanoes per square mile than any other nation on earth. It has no white strands and hence has been spared the worst excesses of beach-based tourism. It is one of the few places in the Caribbean where pre-Columbian peoples still survive. A British possession in modern times, it became autonomous in 1967, gaining full independence since 1978.
Fort Shirley is a splendid symbol of Anglo-French rivalry. The entire Cabrits peninsula, now a national park, was fortified by the British against the French with an elaborate sequence of fortifications dominating Prince Rupert Bay, a fine natural harbor that was in frequent use by European mariners throughout the age of sail. After an introductory presentation by local historian Dr Lennox Honychurch, a group of us were taken by him on a tour of the fort, now being lovingly restored with the help of grant aid from the European Union. From the fort we had wonderful views over the bay, with Sea Cloud II alongside below. Blue hummingbirds fed off nectar blossoms beside the former officers' quarters, the restoration of which impressive Georgian structure is now nearing completion. Another group had departed early to walk the Syndicate Trail at Morne Daiblotin, a chance to walk in the tropical rainforest and search out the elusive national bird, the Imperial Parrot or sisserou.
Back on board, the crew hit the rigging and we sailed out of the historic harbour beneath serried ranks of Georgian cannons for a spectacular afternoon under full sail. Before long we passed another traditional bark, the Canadian Picton Castle sailing out of Nova Scotia with a trainee crew, a rare but heartening scene, reminiscent of a Patrick O'Brian novel, when we were privileged to fully participate - out of time - in the Age of Sail.
