Natasha Said­wan

Pro­duc­tion Ed­i­tor

natasha.said­wan@guardian.co.tt

While most as­so­ciate Las Cuevas with qui­et sea baths, the east­ern side of this bay holds a se­cret trea­sure.

Perched on the cliff­side are the ru­ins of Fort Aber­crom­by—now a derelict fort and park, but once a strate­gic site that played a piv­otal role in the frame­work of Trinidad’s colo­nial de­fence.

Named af­ter Sir Ralph Aber­crom­by, who led the British forces that cap­tured Trinidad from the Span­ish in 1797, the fort was es­tab­lished short­ly af­ter that cam­paign.

Un­like the more fa­mous Fort George, which over­looks the Gulf of Paria, Fort Aber­crom­by was de­signed to be the North Coast’s pri­ma­ry look­out.

Ac­cord­ing to the of­fi­cial sig­nage, it was built un­der the gov­er­nor­ship of Sir Thomas Pic­ton at a cost of £300 and was in­tend­ed to serve as a sup­ply point for British forces, in ad­di­tion to the fa­cil­i­ties in Port-of-Spain.

Like all forts dur­ing that pe­ri­od, its mis­sion was al­so to de­ter pri­va­teers and en­e­my fleets from us­ing the deep, shel­tered wa­ters of Las Cuevas Bay as a land­ing point to at­tack the is­land from the north.

Walk­ing through the site to­day, one can see the rem­nants of a prag­mat­ic mil­i­tary in­stal­la­tion and hear the hum of his­to­ry:

The Bat­tery: Two can­nons, strate­gi­cal­ly an­gled, pro­vide a sweep­ing view across the vast ex­panse of ocean.

The Mag­a­zine: Thick-walled struc­tures built to keep gun­pow­der dry in the hu­mid, salt-sprayed cli­mate.

Nat­ur­al De­fence: On a clear day, the view stretch­es far across the Caribbean Sea—a re­minder that el­e­va­tion was one of the fort’s great­est as­sets.

In­ter­est­ing­ly, Fort Aber­crom­by was not de­stroyed in bat­tle, but by its own gar­ri­son and by mis­take.

In 1805, an of­fi­cer sta­tioned at the fort mis­tak­en­ly be­lieved that a large hos­tile fleet was ap­proach­ing.

Fear­ing the fort would be tak­en, he or­dered the huts burned, the guns de­stroyed, and the en­tire gar­ri­son, around three of­fi­cers and 50 sol­diers, re­treat­ed over the hills.

The “en­e­my” fleet turned out to be friend­ly, ac­tu­al­ly part of British Ad­mi­ral Lord Nel­son’s fleet head­ing to the Bat­tle of Trafal­gar.

Af­ter this, the fort was nev­er re­built or re­stored, leav­ing it to slow­ly fall in­to ru­in.

But be­yond the his­to­ry and the In­s­ta-wor­thy views, Fort Aber­crom­by is a phys­i­cal link to the geopo­lit­i­cal tug-of-war among Britain, Spain, and France that helped to shape our coun­try.

More than just old stones; it’s a re­minder that sol­diers once lived and en­dured the iso­la­tion of the North Coast—bat­tling yel­low fever, sick­ness and trop­i­cal heat long be­fore roads ever ex­ist­ed.

Find­ing the fort

is quite easy

It lies ap­prox­i­mate­ly 31.9 km, or a two-hour dri­ve, from the Port-of-Spain Light­house.

Dri­ve past the sig­nage for Las Cuevas Beach and, about two min­utes lat­er, look out for the Las Cuevas Health Cen­tre sign.

Then, turn left to­ward the health cen­tre, then make a right turn.

Vis­i­tors ap­proach the fort via this bumpy dirt road, fol­lowed by a path that in­cludes a main set of steps and sev­er­al steep, part­ly hid­den steps near the fort it­self. From the two rust­ed can­nons, the long stretch of Las Cuevas Beach is vis­i­ble, al­beit par­tial­ly framed by trees and low brush.

There are two land­ings along the stair­way that of­fer spots to rest and en­joy views of the sur­round­ing coast­line. An­oth­er stair­way leads to a look­out that pro­vides an even more pic­turesque view of the ocean and its sur­round­ings. The deep, clear pool be­low is a pop­u­lar fish­ing and snorkelling spot.

Vis­i­tors should be care­ful not to go too close to the edge, as one side drops off in­to a steep, un­for­giv­ing cliff.

The fort of­fers a rare mo­ment of qui­et—a place to sit on the edge of the world, feel the sea breeze, and re­flect.

I would sug­gest vis­it­ing with a group, as the area can feel quite iso­lat­ed, save for a few vil­lagers and fish­er­men.

Fort Aber­crom­by is an­oth­er re­minder that there is so much to dis­cov­er in our own back­yard.