LORD'S PRAYER LOG, Part 23A:
Wednesday, February 23, 2000

0015 As I look back over my shoulder at the Island of Martinique. I am struck once
again by the beauty of its lights and its outline in the moonlight. Fort de France must
have made an incredibly fine naval base for the French in the late 1700s. There were
many sugar plantations on the island in that time - a source of great wealth to their
owners. On one of these plantations in 1763 a baby girl was born and named Josephine.
In later years she become Empress Josephine, the wife of Napoleon. On the northwestern
shore of the island I can see lights all along the shore as well as a larger grouping of lights
at the town of Saint Pierre. To its north I can see the outline of the volcano Mt. Pelee.
On 8 May 1902 this volcano erupted (after some significant warning signals in the
preceding days), blowing the entire top off the mountain and killing all 35,000 residents
of Saint Pierre - except for one convict - a prisoner in a dark cell. Even ships anchored
in the roadstead were destroyed where they lay.

0130 The wind has gone light and flukey again. I give up on trying to keep up with the
sail and wind vane adjustments. I stow the sails and fire up the engine.

0300 The wind is up again. I heave up the mainsail in the moonlight and haul out
the jib. I adjust the wind vane to maintain the course.

0400 the wind is light and fluky again. The boat has turned toward the island of
Dominica and I let her take that course. I had been expecting to sail past Dominica
during the hours of darkness without being able to see much of it, so I had
given it a wide berth in my planning, that I might be able to sleep in 1-2 hour
periods without fear of a wind shift putting me in danger.

0500 Due to the fluky winds it now looks like I may get to have a look at Dominica
in the morning light, I am allowing the boat to get closer to the island. My
Great Grandfather Stark raised my interest in going ashore for a tour to see this
island but I do not have the time to do that on this trip. He made the following
remarks about the island: "Though Dominica is the most mountainous of all the
Antilles, it is spit into many valleys of exquisite fertility. Through each there runs
a full and ample river, swarming with fish, and yielding waterpower enough to drive
all the mills which industry could build... Viewed from the sea, Dominica has a
singularly bold and magnificent appearance. A dark irregular mass of lofty mountains
rises abruptly from the ocean, as if suddenly up heaved from the deep by some mighty
convulsion of nature. The rugged grandeur of the island is softened, on a nearer approach,
by the mantle of green that everywhere conveys its surface form the sea margin to the tops
of the highest mountain. The mountains are in full sight from Guadeloupe, from which it is
distant about thirty miles. It contains more obstacles to travel, to the square mile than any
other island of similar size in the West Indies. Well did Columbus illustrate its crumpled
and uneven surface, when in answer to his Queen's inquiry regarding its appearance;
he crushed a sheet of paper in his hand and threw it upon the table."

0627 Sunrise.

0830 Although I have not yet cleared the northern end of Dominica, I see clearly
Les Saints ahead rising about 1,000' out of the sea. This piece of water that I
am approaching, which separates Dominica to the south from Les Saints and
Guadeloupe to the north is known as the Guadeloupe Passage. It was in this passage in
April of the year 1782 that one of the most significant naval battles of all time was
fought - the kind of battle that decides the fate(s) of nations. Here is
how my Great grandfather Stark described the situation (keep in mind that this was
written prior to the world wars of the 20th century and that my Grandfather Stark,
while a citizen of the USA had been born in England and remained intensely
loyal to both nations throughout his lifetime):

"When England's thirteen American colonies revolted, the whole world combined to
crush her. France, Spain and Holland, her three ocean rivals, determined to tear her
West Indian possessions from her. The opportunity was seized by the Irish
patriots to clamor for Irish nationality, and by the English Radicals to demand
liberty and the rights of man. It was the most critical period in later English
history: if she had yielded to peace on the terms which her enemies offered her,
and the English Liberals wished to accept, the star of Great Britain would have
set forever.
The West Indies were then under Rodney, whose brilliant successes had already made
his name famous. He had done his country more than yeoman's service, for he had torn
the Leeward Islands from the French and had punished the Hollanders for
joining the coalition, by taking the island of St. Eustatius and three million's
worth of stores and money."
The Patriot Party in England led by Fox and Burke was ill pleased with these victories,
for they wished to be driven into surrender. Burke denounced Rodney as he had Warren
Hastings, and Rodney was called home to answer for himself. In his absence, Demerara,
the Leeward Islands and Eustatius were captured by the enemy.
The French fleet now supreme in these waters, blockaded Lord Cornwallis at York
town, and caused his surrender, thereby ending the American (Revolutionary) War.

The Spaniards had fitted out a fleet at Havana, and the Count DeGrasse, the French
Admiral, fresh from his victory at Yorktown, hastened back to refurnish himself at
Martinique, intending to join the Spaniards, capture Jamaica, and drive the English
out of the West Indies. One chance remained: Rodney was ordered back to his
station, and he went at his best speed, taking all the ships with him. The
Whig orators were indignant. They insisted that England was beaten, that there
had been bloodshed enough, and that peace must be obtained at any price. The
Government yielded, and a preemptory order followed on Rodney's track. 'Strike your
flag and come home.'  Had that fatal command reached him, Gibraltar would have
fallen, and Hastings' Indian Empire would have melted into thin air. But Rodney
knew his time was short. Gibraltar was relieved after a three-year's siege; and
before the order reached him, the severest naval battle in English annals had be
en fought and won under (the) ... cliffs (of Dominica). DeGrasse was a prisoner,
and the French fleet was scattered into wreck and ruin.
DeGrasse had refitted in the Martinique dockyards. He himself, and every officer
in the (French) fleet was confident that England was overcome, and that nothing
was left but to gather the fruits of the victory which was theirs already. All
the Antilles, except St. Lucia, were his own. There, alone, the English flag still
flew, as Rodney lay in the harbor of Castries. On April 8, 1782 the signal came,
from the north end of the island that the French fleet had sailed and was be
calmed under the high lands of Dominica. Rodney had been waiting, day-by-day, for
this welcome sign; now the enemy was out at last. He instantly got underway and
followed. In number of ships, the fleets were equal; in size and complement of
crew, the French were immensely superior; moreover, they had twenty thousand
soldiers on board to be used in the conquest of Jamaica. Knowing well that a defeat
at that moment would be to England irreparable ruin, they did not dream that Rodney
would be allowed, even if he wished it, to risk a close and decisive engagement.
The English admiral was aware, also, that his country's fate was in his hands. It was
one of those supreme moments, which great men dare to use and weak men tremble at.
A breeze, at last, came off the land; the French were the first to feel it, and
were able to attack at advantage the leading English division; they kept at a distance
firing long shots, which, however, did considerable damage.
The two following days the fleets maneuvered in sight of each other; on the night
of the eleventh, Rodney made signal for the whole (British) fleet to go south
under press of sail, the French thinking he was flying (bugging out). He tacked
at two in the morning and at daybreak found himself where he wished to be, with
the French fleet on his lee quarter, in the channel, which separates Guadeloupe
from Dominica. At seven in the morning, April 12, 1782, the signal to engage was
flying at the masthead of the "Formidable," Rodney's flagship. The Admiral led
in person: having passed through and broken up their order, he tacked again, still
keeping the wind. The French, thrown into confusion, were unable to reform, and
the battle resolved itself into a number of separate engagements, in which the
English had the choice of position. Rodney in passing through the enemy's lines
the first time had exchanged broadsides with the Glorieux, a seventy-four, at close
range. He shot away her masts and bowsprit, and left her a bare hull. Her flag was
still flying, being nailed to a splintered spar, so he left her unable at least to get away.
After he had gone about he came yardarm to yardarm with the superb "Ville de Paris,"
the pride of France, and the largest ship in the world, on which DeGrasse commanded
in person. All day long the cannon roared, and one by one the French ships struck their
flags or fought on till they sunk. The carnage onboard them was terrible, crowded
as they were with troops for Jamaica. Fourteen thousand were reckoned as killed
besides the prisoners. The "Ville de Paris" surrendered at last, fighting desperately
after all hope was gone, till her masts were so shattered that they could not bear a
sail, and her decks above and below were littered over with mangled limbs and bodies.
DeGrasse gave up his sword to Rodney on the Formidable's quarterdeck. The Glorieux,
unable to fly and seeing the battle lost, hauled down her flag, but not till the un-disabled
remnants of her crew were too few to throw the dead into the sea. Other ships took fire
and blew up. Half of the French fleet were either taken or sunk; the rest crawled away
for the time; most of them to be picked up afterwards like crippled birds. So on that
memorable day was the English Empire saved. Peace followed, but it was peace with honor.
The American Colonies were lost; but England kept her West Indies, her flag still floated over
Gibraltar. The hostile strength of Europe all combined had failed to wrest Britannia's
ocean scepter from her; she sat down maimed and bleeding, but the wreath
had not been torn from her brows. She was, and still is sovereign of the seas.
The order of recall arrived when the work was done. It was proudly obeyed, and even
the great Burke admitted that no honor could be bestowed upon Rodney which he
had not deserved at his country's hands."


1000 The breeze is fresh, the weather is clear, the seas are large, and the Lord's
Prayer is boiling along - bound for The Saints. It is an incredibly beautiful
day as I cross the Guadeloupe Passage. As I do, my thoughts turn to the Valliant
sailors and the soldiers who fought so gallantly - each for his own nation - in the
Battle of The Saints. The battle occurred more than 300 years ago. Yet if
its outcome had been different or if Rodney had chosen not to fight, the world as
we know it today would be different than it is in ways that no one will ever know.
So many lives were lost right here on that 12th day of April 1782 and so many
souls must have been racked in terribly agony as their bodies were shattered
in battle; their splintered bones lie even today several thousands of feet below
the surface at the bottom of the Guadeloupe Passage. I say a prayer for those
brave souls and I salute them as I sail through their burial ground!

1110 I am passed close aboard to starboard by a trimaran under full sail and going
much faster than Lord's Prayer; it is named "On Eagles Wings" and it hails out
of Annapolis, MD.

1130 Les Saints are drawing close at hand now. These islands rise boldly out of
the sea. Basse-Terre (the high piece of Guadeloupe) is in the background.

1230 Lord's Prayer slips between the islands that make up The Saints. This is one
of the prettiest groups of islands that I have seen.

1300 Lord's Prayer is anchored in Les Saints at 15-52N 061-35W.

1500 I take a swim and while drying off, the folks from the trimaran "On Eagles
Wings" row by in their dinghy. They are Eric & Lynn Baxter. I invite them aboard.
Their boat is named after a religious song of the same name. Eric is a retired
veterinarian out of Essex, Connecticut having served as a vet in the US Army and
more recently having had a private practice in Connecticut, which he has since
sold along with their home to take their current trip. Lynn has suffered from Multiple
Sclerosis - a condition that is happily in remission (at one point she was quadriplegic).
Their trimaran is 40' long. Eric built it himself over a 7-year period. They have been
out of the United States since June of last year when they started this trip.  Their travels
have taken them twice now across the Atlantic via Bermuda the Azores, Gibraltar, the
Canary Islands and the Caribbean. They plan to be in the Chesapeake some time this
summer and remain there for about a year to be close to their daughter Amy, who is
currently in her third year at the Naval Academy. After Amy graduates Eric and Lynn
may go on through the Panama Canal and westward across the Pacific for a circumnavigation.
After some very pleasant conversation, we all go ashore together and have a delightful walk
around the main island, which is called "Terre de Haut." There is a fort on this island named
Fort Napoleon. On neighboring "Ilet a Cabrit" there is another fort named Fort Josephine.

1812 Sunset. I return aboard Lord's Prayer and make some dinner. Today it is one
 month since I began this trip by pushing out through the ice in Cambridge Creek
..

-------------
Via Pinoak Digital - Advanced technology SSB radio digital wireless email.
In reply please do not include text above or attachments.
For further information on our service visit www.pinoak.com