In 1889, a barrister and war correspondent is about to dig for pirate treasure on the South Atlantic desert island called, confusingly, Trinidad, which can boast of a climate of its own.
“It is subject to miniature cyclones, whose influence does not extend a mile offshore, and which, therefore, cannot raise a heavy sea,” writes EF Knight in The Cruise of the Alerte. “We were sometimes riding with a straining chain to a wind of hurricane force, when we could see a vessel a league or so from the land, making no progress, her canvas shaking in the calm; and however fine it might be outside, the clouds would collect upon the peaks in ominous, torn masses, that whirled along as if impelled by a terrific blast, and which looked very alarming until we came to understand the innocence of the phenomenon.”
The squalls would strike the yacht with great force, “so that she strained at her chain and was likely to drag; consequently the officer in charge was unable to enjoy an undisturbed night’s rest, but was in a constant state of anxiety for the vessel,” he writes. “The next day, November 29, was fine, the wind still being from the north-east. There was even less swell than on the previous day, so we saw no time must be lost in landing more stores.”
The island is now known as Trindade, Portuguese for “trinity”, and forms part of the Trindade and Martin Vaz archipelago off the coast of eastern Brazil.
