Memoirs of Captain Hugh Crow

The sickness that afflicted many of the whites and blacks on board began to abate as we approached the West Indies, but though our destination was to Trinidad to receive orders, my instructions empowered me to use my own discretion, and I thought it prudent, as the convalescence was not yet general, to run on with all speed for my old favourite port, Kingston, Jamaica. We arrived there after a toilsome passage from St. Thomas of about eight weeks. Never, in the course of my life, did I suffer so much through fatigue and anxiety of mind as on this voyage, during which we lost no fewer than thirty whites and fifty blacks: amongst the former were our two doctors, who died immediately after our arrival at Kingston. The thoughts of the sickness (which originated from the damaged goods, as before stated) and the frequent deaths weighed heavily upon my spirits, and I have many a night lain down to rest so oppressed with grief and fatigue that I declare I had no wish ever again to see the light of day.

[25th January 1808] On our arrival at Kingston I found, to my surprise, about sixteen sail of African ships, some of which had been there five or six months, with the greater part of their cargoes unsold, and most of them losing daily both whites and blacks. This was a melancholy prospect for me, but my old friends did not lose sight of me, and the first thing I saw on landing was an advertisement in both the Kingston newspapers stating that Captain Crow had arrived with the finest cargo of negroes ever brought.