Having lost my sailing companion from The S.S. Eldritch, Carleton, amidst a street brawl, I’d occupied some of my time by laying low and hoping for his return away from the City of Havana proper by lingering about the Malecón sea wall and eventually the windy beach and attempting to collect lizards from the hot rocks. The curly tailed ones ate the small brown anoles and beat up the larger green ones until I separated them in large jars inside my satchel. It occurred that I didn’t know what they ate and I’d have no one to deliver the jars to in any case, so I’d just let them loose and observed their skittery and odd behaviours until they left my sight.
I’d never seen lizards outside of a photographic plate in a book before.
After thinking absently on the dunes, staring out to sea, I considered perhaps someone at one of the military fortresses around the harbour might know where my troop ship would be docked and I could rejoin the Frontiersmen Expeditionary Forces and not be shot for accidental desertion back in Halifax.
After talking to many cinammon hued beach goers, and me not knowing a word of Spanish, I finally found a young man who could speak heavily accented English, fishing on the beach. He directed me to Fortaleza de San Carlos de la Cabaña, adding in a few tidbits of local pride by saying it had never been attacked because of how formidible it was. It has 120 cannons and housed between 1.300 and 6,000 men, in times of war, and those times looked like they may be coming. Surely someone here, perhaps the Fortress General, could wire my ship and regiment before my situation fell even more out of hand. The lad also explained to me that his compatriots casually called it La Cabaña. and anglos wrongly called it Fort Charles. It was just overland from where we spoke.
“Just overland” turned out to be over an hour and this Canadian felt the heat despite the cool linens of my suit and my white sun helmet. Once I’d arrived, I’d found it curiously unguarded. I walked across the drawbridge without challenge!
It seemed very quiet for a military fort housing over a thousand souls.
They easily had 120 cannons, perhaps more. But no one manning them.
Another curly tail lizard with a straight tail. At least there was some life here!
It did seem ridiculous that there was no one here. Perhaps the fort was so imposing, the mere existence of it was threat enough for potential invaders to steer clear of the harbour. The barracks were all locked, but silent. Not a movement anywhere, save the lizards.
I’d found the Officers Building and eventually found the General’s Office, but it was as vacant as the rest of the fort.
The General’s Desk
It was a mystery never solved. I’d have to ignore my plight and seek a meal and room in the city across the harbour. I sat in a cool courtyard overgrown with tree roots until the sun felt less harsh and more managable. A walk at night in a foreign land is more of an adventure, anyway.
Tree roots in the Fort