(Carthagena was named by William Hebb II for a spectacularly unsuccessful 1741 battle fought for the Caribbean port of Cartagena during the War of Jenkin’s Ear by the British—with the aid of colonists such as Hebb and Lawrence Washington—against the Spanish. Nothing came of the war, and Jenkin’s ear was eventually pickled.)
Hal arrived on his powerboat early the following morning, which dawned clear and promising, but dead calm, prompting us to opt for a Saints Day cruise by power rather than sail. The three of us set off in Hal’s boat with the rising sun and a second cup of coffee. We began our cruise with a perfectly agreeable tour of St. Inigoes Creek—the first creek to the right as you come up the St. Marys. (Inigo is Spanish for Ignatius, so the creek was actually named for Ignatius Loyola, founder of the Jesuit order. A Jesuit priest arrived with the first settlers in 1634, and the Jesuit order in the years that followed held thousands of acres in this area—as well as the entirety of St. George Island, which was more impressive then than it is now since it used to be considerably larger.)
Serene? Very. Up one branch and then another we went, enjoying the quiet, long-settled, woodsy character of houses that lined St. Inigoes—like so many Maine lake cottages—while remarking on the dozen or so new docks, long steep stairs and walkways of the creek’s new construction. We also noted several fine potential anchorages—particularly a wooded spot at the top end of Lucas Cove that already had a temporary resident, a lone cruiser who resolutely refused to look up from his book as we motored slowly by, waving futilely. All this while, however, we kept an eager eye on a military helicopter that was doing