This has been a hard post to write. Imagine that you’re a prisoner in a dungeon the size of an average bedroom. Stone floors, walls and ceiling, and if you’re lucky, a tiny slit of a peep hole up above to let in light and air. You’re shackled of course, as are the other two hundred prisoners crammed in with you. You have to stand because there’s no room to sit or lie down. You’re underfed, underwatered, and many of your fellow prisoners are sick, possibly dying. There’s no toilet or way of clearing out human waste. Now add in crushing heat and humidity. Don’t think about protesting, because the punishment is even worse. Troublemakers are bolted into a separate windowless cell and left there to die.
If you’re lucky enough to survive this living hell for as long as three months, you’ll be marched, still shackled, down a long tunnel to the Door of No Return, where you’ll be put in a small boat and rowed out to a waiting ship, bound for Brazil, the Caribbean, or possibly the southern United States. You know the rest.
We were in Ghana today, one of the main centers of the slave trade, where as many as ten million captured Africans were processed and shipped off to the Americas, and our excursion took us to two of the coastal prisons where slaves were brought and held pending sale and transfer to a slave ship. Takoradi, where we docked, isn’t close to those prisons, which gave us an opportunity to see some of the country during the ninety minute bus ride to Cape Coast, our first destination.
That bus ride was like no other we’ve experienced during the first six months of this cruise. Our three bus caravan was led out of the port by a police motorcycle, lights flashing, and another brought up the rear. The two lane roads we traveled were main thoroughfares, but they were in very poor shape, the worst we’ve seen. Numerous potholes and speed bumps made for slow going, which was just as well, considering how close to the road the tiny businesses that lined it were. Heavy traffic also kept speeds down, often slow enough to allow us to share waves with people walking or standing along the road. Small goats roamed freely, a couple times crossing the road in front of us.
We arrived at Cape Coast Castle, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, at 9:30, on a sunny morning that was already hot and humid. The large white structure isn’t a castle at all, but is a combination fort and prison. Given how many times the “castle” changed hands among warring European powers before the English firmly took control in 1665, it’s not surprising that a long row of cannons face the ocean atop the walls. It was here that we toured the dreadful underground cells described in the first paragraph above. There were five cells for men, each holding 200 slaves, and two cells for women, holding “only” 150 each. This monstrosity continued to operate until the British outlawed slavery in 1807. Today it stands as a stark reminder of the degree to which men can inflict depravities on their fellow men. President and Mrs. Obama visited the prison in 2009, an event commemorated by a plaque on an interior wall.
We had one more “castle” to visit, and it was a short drive from Cape Coast to Elmina, the site of a former bastion known as Elmina Castle, sometimes called St. George’s Castle. Another UNESCO site, Elmina was constructed by the Portuguese in 1482, it only became important in the mid 1600s when the Dutch took control and became involved in the slave trade. The fortification isn’t all that different from Cape Coast Castle, though I was struck by the degree to which its defenses were focused on a possible land attack, rather than an assault from the sea. The castle has not one, but two moats, a drawbridge, and cannons facing the landward side.
I was struck by two features at Elmina Castle. The first was a large church constructed by the Portuguese inside the fortress walls. You cannot imagine how out of place it seemed in a prison dedicated to shipping enslaved human beings off to the Americas. The second jarring feature was a doorway to one of the cells that actually had a skull and crossbones overhead. I cannot understand the depravity that would inspire people to do that. At Elmina, as with Cape Coast Castle, we had excellent local guides who walked us through the facilities, though to a large degree descriptions weren’t necessary. The prisons spoke for themselves.
Now, here’s the part of our excursion that was truly incongruent. After a morning of touring fortifications dedicated to the transatlantic slave trade, we were bused to Coconut Grove, a beautiful seaside resort, where we were served a delicious buffet lunch under a thatched roof pavilion along the beach. While the resort was lovely, its existence here seemed puzzling. Takoradi does have a small airport, but there are no decent roads, and the area seems very poor. Still, there are a million people in the metropolitan Takoradi area, and as gold and diamonds make up ninety percent of Ghana’s economy, there must be enough wealthy people to support a resort like Coconut Grove, but it sure seemed out of place in the midst of so much poverty.
In the absence of our police escort (they dropped back to help a couple buses that were running later than ours) it took a full two hours to return to Takoradi and the ship after lunch. Maybe the roads are better elsewhere, but we were on N1, the national highway running along the coast to Accra, the capital, and as described above, it was in rough shape. There is a presidential election this year, and our guide cynically joked that if we come back next year there will be no potholes and the roads will be paved with gold.
We arrived back at the ship a little after 3:00, more than half an hour later than today’s all aboard time of 2:30, but as I’ve mentioned in previous posts, the ship always waits for us if we’re on one of the company’s own sponsored tours. Thanks to the police escort the final buses returned shortly after ours, and soon afterwards we set sail for our final destination in west Africa, Senegal.
It always takes me a while to process what I’ve experienced on one of our shore excursions, and I’m sure today’s will be no different, but I’ve already reached one firm conclusion. You can read about slavery, and probably learn enough about it to qualify as an expert, but you can’t begin to truly understand the inhumanity of it until you visit these “castles,” walk through the dark cells, experience the crushing heat and humidity, and see for yourself a least a tiny bit of what these captive slaves went through. I wish I could better convey that, but words don’t suffice.
It wasn’t the most pleasant of excursions, but I’m glad we took it and I think I’m the better for it. Ghana has had a rough go of it and the people there still face enormous challenges, I wish them well.
Meanwhile, we’re off to Senegal, where we’re scheduled to go on the last of three game drives we booked on this crazy adventure. The Bandia Game Reserve is supposed to have baobab trees, which we missed when we had to cancel our stop in Madagascar, and I’m really looking forward to seeing them. I’ll be back to tell you all about it, so stay tuned.
On our way from Takoradi to Cape Coast. We saw a lot of houses that looked like this. Note all the fishing boats in the background.
We saw some mud homes. Can’t tell if there are bricks or cinder blocks behind the mud.
We passed a constant string of roadfront stands and tiny shops on our way to Cape Coast.
Another tiny road-front shop.
This is Cape Coast Castle, a British fort/prison from which slaves were shipped to the Americas. The underground cells could hold up to a thousand males and three hundred females at any one time.
Cape Coast Castle changed hands a number of times before the British took control and fortified it well enough to prevent any further takeovers.
Entrance to one of the male dungeons.
Down we go into the dungeon.
200 males would have been crammed into this cell. The lighting in the photo is artificial. The cell would have been dark when it held slaves.
Entrance to a female cell.
Many of the cells held flowers that visitors had left.
I’m on the outside of the Door of No Return, on the ocean side of the Castle. Once slaves passed through this door they were taken to waiting ships and sent off to the Americas, so it truly was a door of no return. I’m not sure why “Door of Return” was placed over this side of the door, because only the European slavers went back through the door in this direction.
President and Mrs. Obama visited Cape Coast Castle in 2009.
This mass of humanity is the fish market near Cape Coast Castle.
The back side of the fish market. Those vendors who couldn’t get a spot inside set up outside under umbrellas.
At Elmina Castle, which looks a lot like Cape Coast Castle.
And it’s just as grim. Can you imagine a cell with this as the only natural light?
Want to know why I’m so upset? I just saw what’s in the next photo.
What sort of depraved soul would think it’s a good idea to put a skull and crossbones over the door to a cell?
That’s me in the blue, ducking into a typically small entrance to a dungeon.
This is Elmina Castle’s door of no return.
Perversely, the Portuguese built a church inside Elmina Castle.
A second fort was built on a nearby hill to protect Elmina Castle.
On our way to lunch after leaving Elmina Castle.
Not sure why this gentleman had a a bucket on his head. It must have been hot.
One more roadside shot.
And then all of a sudden we were at the Coconut Grove Beach Resort, having lunch.
And I finally cracked a smile as I sampled the local beer. The food was delicious.
The beach at the resort was beautiful.
Last photo, taken through the bus windshield. Look carefully and you can see our police escort leading us down the crowded road. This scene was pretty typical on the road between Takoradi and Cape Coast.
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