Afterword

John Murray, Fourth Earl of Dunmore, Royal Governor to the Bahamas from 1787 to 1796, was just about as bad as I portrayed him, and as the estimable William Wylly cited further writes, nor was "the immorality of his private life any less reprehensible than the defects of his public character." Fort Charlotte, familiar to all visitors to Nassau, was started at an estimate of £4,000, and ended up costing the government £32,267. He was more interested in his own mansion, and a magnificent estate and house at Harbour Island, which is officially named Dunmore Town, but never by the long-suffering inhabitants who ever had anything to do with him, or paid his exorbitant rents. His administration was as corrupt as they come, his appointments termed by another writer "bankrupts, beggars, blackguards and the husbands of his whores"; for one his Searcher of Customs, whose wife bore him a child during his tenure. For anyone interested in delving further into the history of the Bahamas, let me recommend A History of the Bahamas by Michael Craton.

Did Caroline's obeah-man cause Jack Finney's downfall? To get to him at long range after he sailed, she would have needed the power of an expensive witch, far beyond the powers of an average "white-magic" obeah practitioner. An obeah doctor would need a "snake-witch," an animal that could swim long distances to "fix" people far away. Witch in this instance is the curse itself, as in what an oldtimer in the islands would say when he or she threatens "to work witch on ya."

There's a good chapter on obeah in Insight Guides: Bahamas, 3rd Edition, available in most tour-guide sections in your local bookstore, or Dr. Timothy McCartney's book Ten Ten, The Bible Ten—Obeah In The Bahamas. Should you visit Nassau, take a side-trip to Fox Hill, and ask around—respectfully.

Lastly, I hope the citizens of the Bahamas will forgive me for making John Canoe, even briefly, a seaman in the Royal Navy. He was reputed to be an escaped slave, a mythic figure of hope to those still in slavery, a strong, proud man who stole a boat and paddled away from chains and whips, still honoured every year in the Bahamas, whether he was a real man, or a hoped-for hero of cleverness and power who could surmount contemporary problems, like Anglo-Saxon "Jack" tales, or the stories about "Brer Rabbit" who always won indirectly by wits.

Besides, doesn't it make a better story than the Yoruba word of the Egungun cult gensinconnu, meaning "wearers of masks," to name the annual festival Junkanoo... for the man, John Canoe?

Finally, what further lies in store for Alan Lewrie? The peaceful end of an active commission in the Bahamas, of course, which takes him to 1789. But just a few years later, there was war with France, a naval war which dragged on until 1815, the highest fruition of sailing ships and square-rigger warfare—The Great Age of Sail.

Would the Admiralty not consider themselves fortunate to have the services of such a splendid (on paper, at least) sea-dog? Or, in this case, ram-cat?

Will he ever live that sobriquet down? Will Caroline ever suspect its true origin? Will Arthur Ballard influence Alan Lewrie, or, will Lewrie corrupt Ballard, when next they cross each other's hawse?

As we used to say down in Memphis to tease the 10 p.m. report on "Action News-5" ... stay tuned.