Puritan settlers, pirates,empire builders – overthe years any number of people have wanted to get their hands on the tiny Colombian island of Providencia. Richard McColl can see why
Below us, the island comes into view encircled by a brittle and protective ring of coral reefs made distinguishable by the white water ripping at its edges, creating a turquoise iris effect that skirts the white sandy shores of Providencia. Our Russian-built aircraft bobbles in the turbulence swirling around the gnarled volcanic peaks of the Caribbean island to our left. Behind our seats, two fighting cocks – transported with us on the 20-minute flight from neighbouring San Andrés for the weekend’s entertainment – cluck in panic at the sudden jolts.
Without incident we touch down on Providencia, or Old Providence, one of a pair of Colombian islands. Located 775km from the country’s mainland coast and a mere 220km from Nicaragua – something that is not lost on the latter state’s authorities. The international squabble is under review constantly at the International Court of Justice, but then again Providencia’s location is central to its intriguing history. The island’s geopolitical importance has unwittingly involved the Miskito Indians of Central America, New England Puritans, English parliamentarians, Dutch freebooters and an assortment of pirates. Then there have been Spanish imperial claims and now a sovereignty dispute between Colombia and Nicaragua.
Had everything gone according to the plans of 17th-century English colonists and Oliver Cromwell’s Western Design (Britain’s attempt to reduce Catholic influence in the Spanish West Indies), today’s Providencia would not perhaps have the slumbering charm of contemporary Caribbean island life, but a more work-fixated Puritan community cashing in on tobacco, cotton and dyes and celebrating a shared history with their kin in Jamestown.
What we have today is not a Puritan-linked enterprise run out of London by aristocrats of the Providence Island Company, but an island that makes up part of a Colombian anomalous territory in the Caribbean.
Of the two islands, San Andrés is the larger and more populous and possibly claims the unlikely title of being the package holiday destination capital for Colombians. Topographically underwhelming and blighted by massive chain hotels capitalising on the Colombian government’s process of aggressive ‘Colombianisation’ in the form of a tax-free zone, San Andrés is the opposite of Providencia.
It is possible the first European to discover the latter island was Christopher Columbus, but facts to prove this are scarce at best. The first confirmed discovery and settlement of the island took place around the same time the English Puritans landed in Massachusetts Bay. These hardy settlers strongly believed an island off the coast of Nicaragua would be far more enticing to like-minded souls than the cold and foreboding climes of New England.
Making the short ride from the brightly coloured wooden airport shack that takes me past tropical fertile valleys, I too agree wholeheartedly with the beliefs of ancestors the Newballs, Bents, Whitakers and Turners. I would settle here, no questions asked.
As I ride in the open-backed colectivo truck, I can understand easily how the Providence Island Company, which spearheaded the investments in 1630 under such notable characters as the ebullient parliamentarian John Pym and Robert Rich, second Earl of Warwick, believed they could make the venture work.
The island was easy to defend, fertile and more importantly – for businessmen intent on financial gain – lay at the strategic heart of Spanish-controlled seas. In short, Providencia occupied an unrivalled position from which to harry the trade routes of Spanish galleons laden with wealth. ll of this makes for the absorbing story of Providencia, off the coast of Central America and in the midst of wealthy Spanish colonies. But looking at the investment objectively – and trying to see beyond the obvious attractions of climate, location and containment that the Puritans would have wanted – you cannot help but feel that the project was doomed to failure.
The Providence Island Company did manage to entice godly people to this alternative Puritan venture – in 1635 it is estimated that more than 500 had settled there. But financially the venture became a disappointment to its backers, the very isolation of the island from other English settlements in the region made communication difficult and therefore the illicit trade that sprung up between settlers and Dutch vessels often led to cargo ships returning to England only partly full.
The Puritans expected theirs to become a model godly society, but the settlement never succeeded in building the kind of united and orderly community the New Englanders had created. They were beset with labour shortages and so began the large-scale use of slaves and privateering that ultimately resulted in the Spanish conquest of the island in 1641.
What remains today of these times are not architectural relics nor profitable tobacco plantations, but solid British surnames and fading legends from a time past.
My efforts to find a local historian to add colour draw blanks. Several mainland Colombians on holiday here in Providencia told me to find Virginia Archbold, yet a simple enquiry at the front desk of my hotel revealed that Providencia’s most learned and able local historian passed away in 2006. This was a major disappointment: the very name Archbold can only mean a descendant of Francis Archbold, the captain of an 18th-century English slave ship who received a grant from the Spanish government in 1788 to settle the island.
Another name is proffered – old Mr Huffington – but it transpires, I am a few months’ late – he too is dead. My luck has run out and the guardians of the island’s history are going the same way.
Finally, Lucy at the front desk, perhaps exasperated at my continual questioning, puts me in contact with her father, Francisco Bent. ‘He knows things,’ she says reassuringly. ucy’s statement rings true. Francisco Bent’s knowledge and his enthusiasm to share it is hardly quelled as his two grandchildren aged one and two clamber over him. I tell him I want to talk about the notorious privateer Henry Morgan. Bent, a lifelong fisherman, smiles. ‘My father was contracted to look for the corsair [carrying] Henry Morgan’s treasure around Fort Warwick on Santa Catalina [a satellite island off Providencia’s north coast] in the 1950s, but they found nothing, or maybe they just weren’t looking in the right place.’
Bent starts to speak fondly of Morgan as if he were a long-time family friend. ‘We were taught in school that Henry Morgan was a pirate, robber, rogue. But now we know he wasn’t such a bad guy.’
The importance of Providencia was not lost on Morgan. Later, when he was lieutenant governor of Jamaica, he is said to have listed the tiny island, along with Havana, Portobelo, Maracaibo, Cartagena and Veracruz, as holding the key to the control of the Caribbean.
With all of the power struggles that Providencia has experienced, I put it to Bent that the islanders must have a bizarre sense of identity. In my readings and investigation I note that there are more people leaving the island than arriving each year and many islanders now make
their home and money labouring in the Cayman Islands or on San Andrés. Very few, however, head to mainland Colombia. Does he think of himself as Colombian or Caribbean or would he prefer to be Nicaraguan? Bent muses for a moment. ‘Here we have a mixed feeling. The Colombian government does not treat us as a people. We are almost 6,000 people here on the island, 99 per cent of us are unemployed. We are promoting more of a separation from Colombia although we do not want to be Nicaraguan. We want to be an
autonomous region recognised together with places such as Limon in Costa Rica, the Bay Islands in Honduras, Colón in Panama and the Corn Islands in Nicaragua.
‘We are not a violent people and now we are becoming accustomed to armed men everywhere. The Colombian government put its police and army here and we don’t need them. This is the reason why Colombia has problems.’ These are strong words from the fisherman from Casa Baja, Providencia.
What remains now is a Caribbean backwater that holds the roots of British influence in the Americas, a Colombian national park that is the antithesis to San Andrés. Long stretches of unspoilt, palm-lined white sandy beaches, aurally polluted with lilted reggae beats, are complemented by rugged volcanic mountains and mangroves – in short, it is a cliché.
Standing on the pristine Playa Manzanillo with my back to Roland’s Bar, it is hard to imagine that in its infancy, Providencia was the location to elucidate the values of the Puritan founding fathers. Here, 75km from the duty-free perfumeries of downtown San Andrés, the islanders of Providencia spend their days fishing and catering to an idly growing tourism industry. Colombian on paper and claimed by Nicaragua, the island is keeping with tradition and remains at the heart of the tangle of geopolitical fallout of colonial ambitions in the Caribbean.
WHERE TO STAY
Providencia exerts its right
to deny the big hotel chains
a foothold on the island
despite five guesthouses
recently becoming affiliated
with the Decameron chain.
All hotels are small, familyrun
establishments. Most
guesthouses that cater to
tourists can be found in
Aguadulce and in South
West Bay.
South West Bay
Cabañas Miss Mary can sleep
14 and has four rooms with
direct access to the beach.
Tel: (+578) 514 2454
Aguadulce
Hotel Miss Elma sleeps 12.
Tel: (+578) 514 8229
Cabañas Aguadulce is the
largest hotel on the island
with 13 rooms sleeping up to
30 people in brightly painted
cabañas. The hotel has an
atmospheric bar and a decent
restaurant as well.
Tel: (+578) 5148 405
www.cabanasaguadulce.com.
