The Christmas festive season had passed us by unmarked and a new year had stolen upon us, unawares. What a contrast to the year before when I had first met Susannah at the Twelfth Night Ball at Whitehall Palace. Holy God. So much has happened since then.
Our first port of call after sailing from Port Royal again, was Puerto de San Juan on Puerto Rico, a journey of around five days. Noah’s estimate proved surprisingly accurate, considering all the factors not in our control. We sailed into the bay of San Juan through the entrance passing Toa Baja and on by the hill-top citadel of Castillo San Felipe del Morro, arriving at the wharves at mid-day in overpowering heat, the air still and heavy with moisture on the coastal plain. The backdrop was of a central mountain chain, dark with dense for
