Hello everyone,

Awhile back my name came up in an email from Tony. Both Mike Dodge and Dan Moreland commented with some kind words and Mike spoke of the Romance's spare compass. Although Mike gave me credit for salvaging the compass, that distinction belongs to another Marinero. But I do have some clues and a bit of a yarn...

While serving as the Mate in the Picton Castle, homeward-bound on her first world voyage we stopped in Tortola and recovered a few relics of the Brigantine Romance.

7 June 1999, West End, Tortola - underway towards Jost Van Dyke

There were powerful emotions returning to West End, Tortola. This was the harbor where I joined Romance in 1985 and my life as a Marinero began, and also where Romance had her back broken during Hurricane Luis in 1995. Laying at anchor here I would listen to Skipper and Mrs. K's stories of deep sea voyages and the Romance greats. Now I'm returning three weeks shy of completing a circumnavigation in a square rig ship, commanded by a fellow Marinero, to bring the journey set in motion here full circle.

Tomorrow will be my opportunity to seek out the story of Romance's final days. But for this to happen with limited time, the stars must align. I think, OK, I've got to try and find my buddy Rico first. He was the last man aboard the Romance when she was lost on the tow out to be scuttled. Rico worked at West End Slipway back in the day and he and I hung around a bit (he actually took a punch for me at the Jolly Roger, but that is another story...). Unfortunately, I had no idea how to get in touch with him or if he was even still here.

With Picton Castle standing by just outside the harbor, I ran a few hands into West End. As I backed off on the throttle, quieting the outboard and perhaps my mind, the skiff slowed and I surveyed the familiar outline of the harbor. Off to starboard my eyes settled upon Romance's former anchorage and the location of the slipway, where there are now multiple new docks. Off to port things remained the same, the ferry dock, customs building, and the good old Jolly Roger. Scanning back across the water I caught a glimpse of a familiar face at the end of one of the new docks and couldn't believe my eyes. Is it? Yes, it is! Rico! Altering course to seize the moment, I realized that the first star had just come aligned.

Since a boondoggle was not in the schedule, our reunion was brief. We made a plan to meet up the following evening at the Sir Francis Drake Pub. Before parting, Rico pointed deeper into the harbor towards a sandspit and told us that is where her remaining parts were located. Gesturing towards the entrance, he said "just right there, closer to Little Thatch," referring to the spot where the Romance was lost. With that information I finished running the crew ashore and headed back to the awaiting Picton Castle for the short hop over to Jost Van Dyke. On the trip over, I spoke with Dan about everything I had learned, and as expected, he was all for a search and rescue mission the following day when we returned to Tortola.

8 June, 1999

Of course the crew partied down at Foxy's. The next morning we got underway early for the return to Tortola and dropped the hook in Cane Garden Bay. Dan kept the watch and cut most of the crew loose. It was the end of the voyage, and, in Skipper psychology, a time to ease up. I packed my gear, including an old canteen that had traveled with me since the early 80's, then headed off on that fateful mission with my shipmates Kristin Ellison and Beth Donnelly. After a hilly bus ride, we arrived at our first destination, the sandspit that Rico had identified. Searching the area, all we found was a hatch board and the old lifefloat. Based on the intel from Rico we knew there was more to be found, but scouring the brush felt like we were trespassing. We needed to figure out more specifically where to look. By now we've been at it a while and I think, time for a water break. I reached for my canteen, and with more than a twinge of sadness, realized it was missing. (Now in your best Skipper voice, F-aaa-ee-n!) Needing to strategize and rehydrate, the obvious choice was a short walk away.

At the Jolly Roger I was telling the bartender our story, and she said that she happened to be friends with Morgan Sanger's wife, Adele (Morgan was the owner of West End Slipway and Romance's final owner). She rang her up and then passed the phone to me. Adele told me that Morgan had something he wanted to give to Skipper and she could pick us up shortly. And just like that, another star had aligned.

The Sanger's welcomed us into their beautiful home and were thoughtful hosts. I knew of Morgan's remarkable life and was impressed by how down to earth he was, quickly putting us at ease. As we sat overlooking Cane Garden Bay, with a rum and Coke in hand and the Picton Castle anchored below, Morgan told me that he had given Romance's compass to the last Marinero (uncertain of his name) who had visited with the plan for delivery to Skipper and Mrs. K. He had also been waiting for the next Marinero's arrival to deliver a few other items he thought the K's should have.

We enthusiastically received Romance's billethead, binnacle, and life ring. I knew for certain that I'd be seeing Skipper in a few weeks as he was watching my dog Deadeye. (Working as the sailmaker in the US Brig Niagara over multiple seasons, Skipper became best of friends with Deadeye dog. With a pocket full of biscuits, they would head out on daily walks, Skipper referring to himself and his companion as "Deadeye and One eye".)

Morgan then directed us to where the remains of Romance were lying, hidden in the brush near the site of our earlier search, and told us to have at it. While he organized us a lift I borrowed his VHF and arranged for a pick up at the sandspit. Shaking hands as we bid farewell, I thanked him for his generosity and for honoring Skipper and Mrs. K's legacy. As we rolled along those narrow island roads on the return to West End, I contemplated the weight of the cargo we now carried.

Back at the sandspit with permission and direction, we quickly located some of her spars and rigging, that wretched windlass, and a few hatch boards. From a nearby dock the B&W Alpha could be seen submerged in a couple fathoms of water. I still have the deadeye that I cut loose from a lanyard, made brittle by the sun yet stubborn by tar. Soon the Picton Castle's skiff arrived and we made our way back to the ship, planning to return later with tools and Dan.

Earlier in the day I made a time to rendezvous with Rico, and after dinner a handful of us took a taxi into Roadtown to meet up with him. At the pub, Rico described the Romance as "all mashed up," stove in with her back broken after being repeatedly picked up and dropped on the hard by the relentless surge of the hurricane. Some months later, damaged beyond repair, they attempted towing her out to deep water for scuttling. Rico said they carried a bottle of rum to honor the K's, and just as they departed the harbor, a strong current funneling through got ahold of Romance and she began quickly taking on water. Rico had to abandon ship, stepping into an awaiting motor boat, and soon after Romance slipped below the surface.

After a couple hours of reminiscing it was time to head back to the ship and bid farewell to my friend Rico. Once aboard, I had a satisfied feeling from the day's adventures, but in the back of my head, I was a little bit bummed that I had lost my old canteen. So early the next morning, I got a ride into the beach and hustled to see, if by some miracle, I had lost it at the bus stop where the day began. There, in the light of dawn, sitting atop a fence post right where I left it, was my old canteen... and another star aligned.

9 June, 1999

Shortly after breakfast we got underway and re-anchored just outside of West End in Smuggler's Cove, positioning us closer to both the customs building for clearing out and the sandspit. Once secured, we made a run into the harbor with Dan, a few crew, and tools. Pictured below are some of the items that were recovered. (Legend has it that those stun'sl irons were used aboard the Picton Castle...now that's proper!)

With the location where Romance was lost just around the corner, some of the crew's divers were talking about making an attempt at discovering her final resting ground. Although we were due to get underway, Dan delayed departure for a quick attempt. I drove the boat with a team of four divers to the location that Rico described. In his narrative of the tow out, Rico mentioned that a strong current got ahold of Romance just outside the harbor and, in turn, would have set her closer to Little Thatch. Well, that very same current along with reduced visibility prevented the dive team from finding her. I guess we had used up all of our stars...

24 June, 1999

Surrounded by a flotilla of vessels, the Picton Castle returned to the sound of blaring horns and a dock filled to capacity. Many of the supporters had a hand in the conversion of the Picton Castle and the success of this first world voyage. Perhaps none as impactful as an unassuming one eyed gentleman, accompanied by a well fed dog, aboard a motorboat with the Lunenburg dory maker at the wheel. I sure wish Skipper and Deadeye could have made the voyage. Long ocean passages in the tropics were no place for a seasick golden retriever mix, and Skipper's life was in Detroit with his bride. He told me that he had "already done his voyaging" and would say, "I wish to hell I was going, but glad as shit I'm not."

After a hectic and emotional homecoming, the celebratory mood continued as we gathered the Romance parts on a bench in our dockside shop and invited Skipper for a marlinspike. There was a moment of disbelief, then he laid his hands upon the billethead, saw the life ring, and quickly realized that all the rusty old parts nearby were from the Romance. He was clearly taken aback at the site of these relics, parts his hands, and ours, worked to maintain for nearly a quarter of a century. A man of few words, he humbly accepted these pieces of his past (likely wondering how the heck he was going to get all of this back to Detroit). In a quiet moment, Skipper and I were looking at the life ring. I commented that he consider leaving it "as is" because I thought the rugged look showed its history. Apparently I was dead right as Skipper and Mrs. K. set straight to work restoring the life ring, followed by the billethead and binnacle.

Through the magic of the internet and Tony's website, we got to see their progress as Skipper and Mrs. K. worked together, the way they always have, relying upon each other's talents to restore these few pieces of their beloved home back to proper shape. Even after coming ashore, they truly lived their lives by the way of a ship.

So if you made it this far, you know that I did not salvage the compass. The person responsible for that is likely on this thread. As Mike mentioned, I did visit with Skipper a few times in Detroit and brought my tools, he was proud and hard to help. I recall that difficult time well. Mike, I remember seeing you in Detroit and speaking with you on the phone multiple times. You were the Marinero on watch and heavily relied upon. I know your brother John was also a big help and a few others visited as well but, in my opinion, if anybody was a hero in that situation, it was you my friend! As far as I'm concerned, the course of that compass is yours to set.

I hope you have enjoyed reading this story as much as I have writing it. Going back through the archives of my mind, internet research, and old photos has allowed me to somewhat relive that time in my life, and for that I am grateful.

With the warmest regards for my Romance brothers and sisters, Brian Donnelly SQRMF