George Monk was one of three radio operators who were part of 70 men aboard the Auditor, during World War II. The Auditor travelled loaded with clothes, machinery, whiskey, gin, food, metal and wood, for exportation, which according to Mr. Monk, “served to pay the war expenses”.

About the journey that brought him to Cape Verde, Mr. Monk recalls that everything started when, “we left London and we had to head north because the English Channel was always watched by several German submarines. At the time, we decided to go around Scotland and enter the Atlantic Ocean, in order to join a fleet of 47 ships”

For four days, war ships of the Royal Marine escorted them, but soon they would be left on their own and, he recalls, “each ship went its own way”. The Odyssey that later brought him to the national territory would begin then. With a smile and a spark in the eye of someone who relives unforgettable moments, Mr. Monk recalls how it all happened. “We were approximately 600 miles from Cape Verde when we were hit by a German submarine. From that very instant, we notified our base and, before abandoning the ship, we split up in three lifeboats. One of the lifeboats was splintered by the colossal explosion of a torpedo, but we were able to abandon it before it sank”

They drifted for three days, waiting for the rescue that “never came”. With no means of navigation aboard the lifeboat, Mr. Monk only had a pocketbook where the coordinates of some ports were written, including the archipelago of Cape Verde. So with the help of what they had at hand, they drafted the coordinates. “We had a book which we used as a ruler and an old scratched out piece of paper, on which I calculated, roughly, our latitude and the course to follow in order to reach Cape Verde”.

23 men, adrift and lost in the middle of the sea, on a boat with a single sail, rowing against the strong currents that pushed them towards South America. Right after the first day adrift, hunger and thrust threatened to “weaken” their will to survive. “We only had  a barrel of water and some condensed milk, which we ate a teaspoon each at midday. We had to ration because we didn’t know how long we would be lost at sea. But after eight days the captain doubled the ration because we were very weak. But it was the milk that kept us alive at sea”.

Mr. Monk recalls that during the time they drifted, “we came to lose the hope to survive. Hunger and thirst were such that we lost conscience and reason”.

After drifting for 12 days, Mr. Monk and the rest of the crew on board the lifeboat caught sight of a light, on a hill, which they later found out was a lighthouse. They followed the light throughout the dark night and by morning they arrived at the coast. However, “the declivity of the mountains was such that we decided to continue along the coast”, he relates. Thus, after six hours, Mr. Monk’s lifeboat was rescued by a group of fishermen from Tarrafal de Monte Trigo, who mr, Monk suspected “had already been looking for us”. The first lifeboat to arrive at the coast came alongside Santo Antao, at the same bay where Mr. Monk would later arrive. “the crew of the first lifeboat went to Sao Vincente to ask for help, so, I think they had already been looking for us when they found us”, recalls Mr. Monk

The moment he will never forget was when “we caught sight of the local fisherman’s boat. We knew then that we were safe. Weak, famished, tired, but alive”, he recalls with a lot of emotion. They were given water and sardine oil for dehydration, before they were pulled to the coast. The third lifeboat would later be found between the islands of Santo Antao and Sao Vicente by a fishing boat, which took the crew to Mindelo.

“My legs were numb and my body was tired. I remember that, when we arrived on land, they took us to a house where we lied down on the floor drinking water till the next day”, relates Mr. Monk, who will be “forever” grateful to the fishermen of Tarrafal de Monte Trigo.

One day spent in Santo Antao was enough for Mr. Monk never to forget “the hospitality, the kindness of the local people” and the “beauty and magnificence of the landscapes. I still remember them vividly today”, he says with grateful look in his eyes. The passage through Cape Verde would be marked by the stay in Mindelo (sao Vicente). After the well-deserved rest, Mr. Monk and his crew joined the other survivors of the Auditor in Mindelo, where he would stay for almost five weeks, enough time to “forever keep Cape Verde in my heart”, he says.

“I remember that when we arrived in Mindelo, there were about two hundred other British Sailors who had also lost their ships. For a moment, I had the feeling of being at home. I can’t even explain it now”, says the second officer and radio operator.

The first days were spent recuperating their strength and despite the language barrier, Mr. Monk says that “we found a way to communicate and we always ended up understanding each other”. We spent the time doing “normal” things. As Mr. Monk recalls, “in the morning we used to go to laginha, a beach of golden sand and clear waters, where we exercised with the local population”. At that time, it was already customary for the “Pracinha” (small square) to be filled with people who took “endless strolls”, recalls Mr. Monk.

During the five weeks, the crew of the Auditor was able to enjoy the local food and the grogue (sugar cane brandy). But Mr. Monk is not very fond of grogue because, as he recalls, “one time, we were at a party and they served some grogue to our captain and, suddenly, he was completely knocked out. It must have been embarrassing for a ship captain to pass out like that in front of everybody. It is a very strong drink and it isn’t for everyone. Already when we had left Santo Antao on our way to sao vicente, they had given me some grogue to try and I found it too strong and didn’t dare drink it”, he recalls as one of the episodes which he will never forget