CHAPTER 1

Nightmare on the Christena

It was about 3:30 the afternoon of August 1, 1970. The seawas calm, blue, and inviting. A warm Caribbean sun still shonebrightly, as the crowded ferry Christena, loaded with an expectantweekend crowd, swayed, rolled, and danced across the ocean onits usual afternoon run from St. Kitts to Nevis. However, thedie of doom had been cast. The Christena was on its final runbetween the islands, with an illegal passenger load, more thantwice its registered capacity of 155. She would never make thecrossing to Nevis that afternoon. Rather, the ferry suffered a tragicand catastrophic fate when it sank suddenly, tossing everyoneaboard to the mercy of a forever waiting sea. That afternoon, in asudden, unguarded moment, almost 250 persons died a horrific,untimely death.

When the story of the ferry's sinking became known, a blanketof gloom swept over the people of both St. Kitts and Nevis. Theterrible news, combined with the falling shadows of evening,quickly drove the sun and mirth from the lives of Nevisians andKittitians at home, and everywhere else in the world. Everyonehad a relative, friend, or neighbor, who had been snatched awaywith Christena, not to be seen at home, in the villages, on thestreets, at the churches, or on the job again—forever!

Long after the sun returned, the smiles and joyful spirit ofthe people did not. Rather, the shadows and the gloom stayed inthe lives and being of the people. They would not go away! Theemotional shroud brought on by such sudden deaths just wouldnot be lifted. Two entire societies, one on Nevis, the other onSt. Kitts lay dazed, trapped by a common tragedy. So, too, wererelatives and friends throughout the Caribbean and elsewherein the world. Like battered, bruised, and disoriented travelers,they all lay worn, burdened, and groping in shock. Many personsstruggled with fear while others were writhing in anger. Therewere also those among an aching people who dangled dangerouslyon a precipice of insanity. What a time it was for Nevisians andKittitians to find themselves numbed by overpowering gloomand helplessness!

It was Saturday before August Monday, usually a joyfulholiday, since it memorialized the abolition of slavery in theislands, back in 1838. Many persons were beginning to savorthe long summer holiday from school. Weddings were planned.Travel abroad to visit family, friends, and lovers was on the mindsof many. There were also preparations ongoing for horse races onNevis. Other plans for bacchanal were afoot to commemorate thejoyful memory of the freedoms that have come since the abolitionof slavery, and growing dreams of more political empowerment.Many Nevisians had also travelled to St. Kitts to shop, trade, orfor other reasons. August Monday was still two days away.

However, for all those people heading for the ferry thatafternoon, Nevis was now! Some did not want to miss the horseraces scheduled on the island for Monday. Many Kittitians and"people from away," migrants returning home for vacation, alsowanted to be on Nevis. They intended to check out the races, seethe island, and reunite with family and friends—just have a goodtime back home. Despite the ferry's limited passenger capacity(155 passengers), more than 300 persons were waiting to board.They all were bound for Nevis and intended to get there by ferrythat afternoon. Nothing gave a hint of imminent danger. Eventhe calm, blue, waiting sea belied the impending horror about tovisit the islands. Further, harmless-looking ripples caressed thesurface, as the ferry Christena rocked gently at the pier, waitingto receive the long line of Nevis-bound passengers. Some weredressed in bright holiday outfits. Others, such as butchers andhucksters, in work clothes. And, there were those in ordinarydress too. But the three nuns in religious regalia stood out, as thewaiting group began a slow, funeral like march, to the...