Trinidad - The Traveller's Tree: A Journey Through the Caribbean Islands - page 104

of the ones on either side, and fourteen radii produced fourteen distinct notes, varying in pitch according
to the distance between the enclosing grooves. Fish Eyes struck them in turn with his iron bar and each
one rang distinct and true; two notes short of two octaves, which is a pretty good range. The Tock-Tock
is the dominating instrument. It is seconded by the Belly, another kerosene tin, divided into seven deeper
notes. Then comes the Base-Kettle, which is made out of a large vaseline drum, and the Base-Bum, a
vast biscuit container from a local factory. An unremitting clash is furnished by the 'steel'—a brake drum
beaten with an iron rod—and by the shack-shack. Other lumps of machinery, man-handled into shapes
that produce the correct notes, form the remainder of the orchestra.
'To please you, madam,' the Captain said, 'we'll play Ave Maria .'
The sound that burst on the ears was hallucinating. From a mile away it might be almost agreeable;
but it was Bach all right, and without a single false note. The long notes were held, as with the clavichord
before the pedals were evolved, by repeated blows on the same one until it was time to move to the next.
After Ave Maria they practised a tune that Fish Eyes had just composed. Every now and then he tapped
impatiently with his iron bar on the sides of the drum, and the others stopped while he hummed the pas-
sage over. At the end of the rehearsal, he pointed to our introducer and said, 'You shouldn't have come
with Henry. He's terrible.'
'That's all right, Fish Eyes,' Henry said. 'I won't tell nobody.'
'What's the matter with him?'
'He's one of the Desperadoes. He's a spy.'
The Desperadoes are another steel band, and they are rivals. Each steel band, at Carnival time, roves
the streets with banners flying, and plays the tunes they have been practising in secret; though how such
a noise can ever be secret is a mystery. Lookouts are posted during the close season to keep spies at bay.
The din when the Desperadoes, Fish Eyes' band, Sun Valley, Hill Sixty, the Crusaders and Destination
Tokyo are all roving the streets at the same time does not bear thinking of. Each band is accompanied by
a small army of partisans, and if they collide in the same street the adherents of opposing factions fall
upon each other like Guelphs and Ghibellines.
The lack of inhibitions of the Trinidadian Negroes, their exuberance and brio, come out in many ways: in
music and song, and, very noticeably, in their clothes.
In all the islands I had seen before (and in most of them that I saw afterwards) the Negroes were
either dressed like tramps or town councillors. There was nothing in between. It was either the old white
trousers and shirt, and the shapeless wicker hat, or black serge, starched butterfly collars and watch-
chains. In Trinidad all this changes. It has nothing or very little to do with economics and the facility of
supply, and I do not think it is entirely due to the size, compared to the other island capitals, of Port of
Spain. It is just one aspect of a general phenomenon.
One reason for this general phenomenon of Trinidadian vitality is that, in a direct line, Trinidad's
slavery lasted a very short time. If in 1783 the total population of the island was as small as my au-
thority [4] asserts—300, including the Governor, the administration, the white landowners and the gar-
rison—there can have have been, for practical purposes, hardly any slaves at all. This was probably the
lowest ebb of Spanish power in Trinidad, but the shortage among the colonists, decades earlier, of un-
derclothing and of ghostly comforts, and the absolute lack, today, of those architectural remnants which
are such a remarkable and splendid heirloom in the poorest of Spain's other colonies, would seem to hint
that such misery among the whites cannot have been accompanied by slave-owning on a large scale. So