Yacht Gossip in the Bahamas: 1943 Version Is Pretty Juicy

British Royals, Submarine Warfare and an Unsolved Murder

Peter Swanson May 5

CAMERA 1, OPENER: Three well dressed men converse in the sumptuous saloon of a 320-foot yacht moored in the Bahamas. Their names are George Soros, Elon Musk and Prince Andrew. England and the United States are allies in a war. It’s a Netflix remake, and China is the enemy du jour.

Soros is suspected of working for Beijing, the Prince is a Chinese sympathiser and likely traitor, and Musk is, of course, the richest guy on the boat.

The climactic scene happens at the end of Episode 7, when Musk is assassinated in brutal fashion, a crime that is investigated in subsequent episodes but never solved. Critics are unkind. “Lurid, cartoonish, farfetched. Why is Soros always the bad guy?” they write.

Yet this very scenario—the black-and-white version, you might say—was playing out in the Bahamas in 1942-43.

As war broke out in Europe, Swedish industrialist Axel Wenner-Gren sailed to Bahamian waters aboard Southern Cross, the fifth or sixth largest private motoryacht in the world. Wenner-Gren’s tenure in the Bahamas mixed business and pleasure; among his offshore properties was Paradise Island in Nassau, the site of today’s Atlantis mega-resort and marina.

And while you might think that the Bahamas were the farthest place in the world from the mayhem of war, during 1942 and 1943 a critical phase of the Battle of the Atlantic was raging all around the islands.

Predatory U-boats were lying in wait for the oil tankers from Venezuela and American refineries along the Gulf of Mexico as they tried to make their way north along the Gulf Stream. German successes were staggering.

 In June-July 1942 alone, 30 ships were sunk along the southern edge of Bahamian waters. By November U-boats had sunk 263 ships in the Caribbean Sea. Britain’s wartime leader Winston Churchill was apoplectic; he wrote President Roosevelt begging for more aggressive action by the U.S. Navy, which had been uncharacteristically lethargic.

England needed oil and other strategic goods to survive. She needed food. German U-Boat successes were dangerously close to forcing London to capitulate.

Allied intelligence agencies mistrusted Axel Wenner-Gren intensely. The Swede made his fortune as founder of the Electrolux vacuum cleaner company, but he was also a major owner of Bofors, the Swedish armaments manufacturer that had covertly assisted in Germany’s re-armament under the Nazi regime.

Wenner-Gren openly boasted about his friendly connections to Hitler’s inner circle, and his crew was formerly of the Swedish Navy, a pro-Nazi institution within neutral Sweden. Southern Cross itself had immense fuel capacity and bristled with antennas connected to its state-of-the-art radio room.

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(Wenner-Gren had purchased Southern Cross from American tycoon Howard Hughes for $1 million. “The Aviator” had been courting Hollywood in the 1930s and used the palatial vessel as his personal offshore drilling platform, you might say.)

Events of September 1939 fueled Allied suspicions toward the Swede. They happened while Southern Cross was on a pleasure cruise in the North Atlantic. In the first sinking of the submarine war, U-30 torpedoed the liner Athenia with 1,450 Canadian and American passengers on board.

Southern Cross happened to be nearby. She rescued 200 survivors and delivered them to Ireland. Allied intelligence considered her proximity highly suspicious and saw causality in what was proffered as coincidence. Allied intelligence suspected that even if Wenner-Gren hadn’t come to the Bahamas in 1942 on a secret mission to refuel German submarines, Southern Cross may have been serving as a scout ship, helping U-boats find targets such as Athenia.

Despite official paranoia, Wenner-Gren was able to take up residence in the Bahamas. He became friendly with the Duke of Windsor, who had come to Nassau to serve as wartime governor of the Bahamas, then a British possession. The Duke was formerly known as Edward VIII, King of England.

 In a spectacular 1936 news event, he had abdicated the throne of England to marry the “woman I love,” an American divorcee named Wallis Simpson. The abdication twosome were frequent guests aboard Southern Cross, and Wenner-Gren once loaned the use of his yacht to run Wallis over to Florida to have a tooth pulled.

Before the war, the Duke and his wife had met Hitler and expressed their admiration for the Nazi regime. It is widely suspected that the Duke later engaged in treasonous wartime communications with the Nazis, any evidence of which will remain under the seal of British government secrecy until 2046. He was believed to be Hitler’s first choice as puppet ruler of Britain after the planned German invasion. Churchill, in effect, had exiled the Duke to Nassau to get this troublesome royal out of the way.

Another friend of Wenner-Gren was Sir Harry Oakes, slain in one of the 20th century’s great unsolved mysteries. Harry Oakes could be compared to the Elon Musk of his day; certainly he was one of wealthiest men in the British empire. A native of Maine’s Downeast region, Oakes amassed an enormous fortune by discovering gold in Canada, became a Canadian citizen and eventually landed in Nassau, a tax haven, where he was knighted for his good works in the community.

While on a cruise to Mexico, the allies blacklisted Wenner-Gren, forcing the Swede to remain there with his famous yacht. Now communicating at longer range, the Duke and Oakes are suspected of having made a series of investments brokered by their buddy Wenner-Gren—illegally. These deals would have been in contravention of wartime monetary regulations and, given Wenner-Gren’s involvement, possibly designed to expand Nazi influence in Latin America.

When Sir Harry Oakes’ body was found bludgeoned, bloody and burned in July 1943, the Duke of Windsor did something very odd. Instead of summoning Scotland Yard, he forbade anyone but two mediocre, hand-picked Miami police detectives from investigating the case. These detectives arrested Oakes’ son-in-law, a dashing French marquis, on evidence so flimsy as to be nearly invisible.

Why not Scotland Yard? Conventional wisdom is that a competent investigation might have uncovered Oakes’ and the Duke’s illicit dealings with Wenner-Gren, which would have infuriated Winston Churchill.

Alfred de Marigny was quickly acquitted of the gruesome slaying. Despite the favorable verdict, he was ordered to leave the Bahamas, but as consolation he was given the rope they would have used to hang him. It was a special type of rope, you see, imported from Britain.

He and wife Nancy went to stay for a short period at the home of his friend Ernest Hemingway, just outside of Havana, Cuba, at a time when the novelist happened to be working as a freelance agent for U.S. Naval Intelligence at the Havana embassy.

Who killed Harry Oakes? Books have been written on the subject, pointing the finger at the American Mafia, which wanted to develop casinos in Nassau, or Allied intelligence services, or a combination of both. Another scenario blames the scion of a prominent (to this day) Bahamian real estate brokerage.

Secret documents surrounding the relationship between the Duke of Windsor and the Nazis may hold some answers, but secrecy fuels speculation and the Internet spreads it. Some have even speculated that Wenner-Gren himself may have been involved in the killing, though that would seem out-of-character for the affable industrialist.

Wenner-Gren remained in Mexico for the duration of the war, donating Southern Cross to the Mexican Navy for use as a training vessel. One account has the ship being scrapped in 1960. His business dealings in Latin America accrued even more wealth for Wenner-Gren, not the least of which was founding what became Mexico’s telephone monopoly.

After the war, Wenner-Gren returned to the Bahamas and, among other things, bought up property on the island of Andros. Friends and surrogates minimized the Swede’s connection to the Nazis, saying Wenner-Gren himself had exaggerated his relationship with men such as Air Marshall Herman Goering. In that, Wenner-Gren joined the legion of powerful people then trying to distance themselves from the Nazis, who not only were defeated but had been outed as genocidal criminals.

Wenner-Gren died in 1961, and, aside from unproven wartime suspicions, is remembered through the foundations that bear his name. One of the Swedish magnate’s good works, the Wenner-Gren Foundation, continues to be a prominent supporter of worldwide research in “all branches of anthropology.”

His company ALWEG built the original Disney World monorail.

 After the Bahamas, the Duke of Windsor was never given another official role. He and Wallis quietly lived out their lives unloved by anyone but each other.

JFK and Wenner-Gren’s Mistress

Just when you thought the story could not get any juicer, comes a precious footnote to the Wenner-Gren story. Wenner-Gren and John Fitzgerald Kennedy shared a girlfriend, and his presidency might be an unintended consequence of the affair.

She was a Danish beauty named Inga Arvard. As young woman, she moved in Nazi circles, attending Goering’s wedding, twice lunching with the Fuhrer, and even accompanying him to the Berlin Olympic Games. Her second husband had been employed by Wenner-Gren, which reportedly led to her to Wenner-Gren’s bed.

“Inga Binga,” as young JFK called her, began sleeping with him around the time of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, while Kennedy was serving as an ensign in the Office of Naval Intelligence in Washington. Soon the affair between the 24-year-old naval officer and the married Nazi sympathizer came to the attention of Kennedy’s superiors and the FBI.

FBI agents followed the couple, bugged their hotel rooms and telephones. The idea that a suspected German Mata Hari was carrying on with an intelligence officer and son of a former U.S. ambassador, no less, did not sit well with FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover and Joseph Kennedy himself.

To preserve his political future, randy Jack was forced to end the affair. His dad ensured there were no immediate consequences, but Kennedy was reassigned and eventually sent to the Pacific to command PT-109, not a yacht, but nevertheless one of the most important vessels in the American imagination. Kennedy’s war record helped the senator from Massachusetts carve out a narrow victory over Richard Nixon in the 1960 presidential election.

Supplementary Reading

“Who Killed Sir Harry Oakes?” by James Leasor, House of Stratus, 1983.

“The Secret History of the FBI,” by Ronald Kessler, St. Martins, 2002

“Operation Drumbeat: The Dramatic True Story of Germany’s First U-Boat Attacks Along the American Coast in World War II,” by Michael Gannon, Harper and Row, 1992

© 2025 Rio Charters
411 Walnut St. No. 1944, Green Cove Springs, FL 32043

Policy or Piracy: Dominican Bay Clean-Up Turns Into a S**tshow

Viable Foreign Boats Seized Along With Derelicts (Video)

Peter Swanson May 3

The Dominican Navy this week launched an initiative to clear Luperon Bay of abandoned or derelict boats, and seemed genuinely unconcerned when its representatives were told that some of them were neither abandoned nor derelict.

Contractors in a runabout—at times wearing ski masks like an assassination squad—spray-painted numbers on the hulls of targeted vessels, some of which have been towed to the bulkhead at the local boatyard. Some of those were dragged up a launch ramp with a backhoe to be stripped for parts and lead.

An aide to the President in Santo Domingo said 26 boats were affected. Cliff Lyon, a local expat and officer of Luperon’s cruiser association, estimated that at least six of those were viable craft with absent owners. Except that one guy—a French Canadian sailor—who happened to be ashore in the village when his boat was taken.

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Some of the 26 have Dominican owners, who had acquired them as project boats, Lyon said.

As far as the foreign liveaboards in the bay—bafflement. There apparently was no advance notice, no attempt to contact owners and no due process. No one—including local Navy and Port officials—seemed to know who was in charge of the operation. The Port Authority for the bay issued a statement denying any complicity. No one knows what criteria officials are using to decide whether a vessel is abandoned or derelict.

Collaborating with the government contractors is Isaac Alvarez, who has a disputed claim of ownership to Luperon’s only boatyard, Marina Tropicale. Watch how Eddie Ward Rowe, owner of a Nonsuch sailboat, described the boat’s seizure and his dealings with Alvarez.

Most of boats that were tagged do resemble the derelict vessels that litter the waters of Florida and other southern U.S. coastal states, but Presidential Aide José Ignacio Paliza implied that the initiative was part of an effort to “restore a beautiful national park.” He was referring to the fact that Luperon Bay has been the scene of dozens of diesel spills over the past two years, as regular Loose Cannon readers are aware.

D.R.’s National ‘Shame’ Continues in Diesel-Soaked Luperon Bay Peter Swanson   ·   September 3, 2024 Read full story

Whether the Navy has made any effort whatsoever to curb the spills, which were known to come from locally stored fishing vessels, is not public information, but diesel has continued to be spilled as recently as last month. To be sure, many of the targeted vessels were eyesores owned by no one, but to argue they were an immediate threat to the environment while a fleet of commercial craft continues to release petroleum into the mangroves?

Yet, that is what Paliza did in a post on X:

This initiative seeks to mitigate the environmental impact that these structures represent for marine species, the surrounding mangroves and the ecological balance of this Wildlife Reserve, considered an important tourist and environmental attraction.

Paliza briefly posted a government memo which showed that 7.4 million pesos had been budgeted for the clean-up, which is equivalent to more than $125,000—a substantial sum thereabouts. Someone took the post down soon after.

AVENALUP is an association of foreign cruisers and local business people that lobbies for the bay as a cruising destination. The group issued a statement calling the act of spray-painting numbers on private boats “vandalism” and has contacted a maritime lawyer.

The response from owners and caretakers of targeted vessels has varied. Some set about painting over the painted numbers. Others used scrub brushes to apply soapy waters to make boats more presentable.

People in the harbor are now quoting authorities as saying boats might be saved from the scrapyard by having past harbor fees paid, thus confirming active ownership, even though the customary practice is to wait until departure to pay any fee balance. Some have called for a boycott of Marina Tropicale because of its role in the affair.

Whatever the outcome, Luperon’s efforts to build an economy around “nautical tourism” took another hit last week.

Dirty but Serviceable

© 2025 Rio Charters
411 Walnut St. No. 1944, Green Cove Springs, FL 32043
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INVERTED & SOOTY

Yes. I was. Saving our piece of history comes with complicated positions in small spaces.

Janice Anne Wheeler Apr 27

I went cross-country to Arizona State University and joined an Air Force that promised to train me as a pilot and was not remotely suited to my independent spirit. I forfeited the scholarship, returned east and did a 180, career-wise, cashing in as a bartender, working a winery, choosing a life of hospitality. At twenty-one I got into my Mazda RX-7 and drove to Montana, solo, for a Glacier National Park restaurant management job that I was flattered to have and unqualified to fill. I filled it anyway, a drink-slinger in charge of fifty-two peers serving 600 meals a day. I pay to swim with sharks, jumped out of a perfectly good airplane, rafted the Grand Canyon, flew half way round the world unaccompanied, untracked.

I am one of those people who doesn’t really fear the unknown. I’m not being boastful; that trait can be construed as highly impractical and dangerous as well as eccentric (discussed last week). I went places and took chances I didn’t consider or calculate. It’s ironic that the engine space of my wooden, floating home was a far more intimidating thing. More foreign, somehow, than any foreign land.

Too many interconnected moving parts.

Too much lubricant required.

Sailing seems simple and the concept certainly is, but the reality of our motorsailer and the components thereof is anything but. Five feet below the pilothouse lies a rock-solid 1980 Detroit Diesel 4-71 and an impressive 8k generator along with four 150-gallon fuel tanks, a watermaker, half a ton of batteries and the most astonishing array of hoses, pumps, filters, valves and wires I have ever seen anywhere. These type of cruising vessels are self-sufficient and complicated! Atop the fuel tanks are boxes, crates and bins of spare/replacement parts for the items listed above, gallons of oil, cleaners, corrosion blockers and tools; everywhere there are tools. An oil change takes five gallons. That’s a whole lotta lube.

Before…

Three feet below the engine room floor in the potentially claustrophobic space, (I don’t have that affliction, but if you did, there would be trouble) is a tray designed to catch any water ingress through the drive shaft system. It comes complete with a small pump and a really big pump, as it should. Water ingress, even when controlled, understood, and utilized for the good of all (usually cooling the exhaust system) is a nerve-wracking thing. There are indicator lights at the helm for when those pumps kick on, so we know if they run unusually long.

QUESTIONS YOU DON’T WANT TO HEAR Janice Anne Wheeler   ·   Apr 13 Read full story

“Do you want me to take that tray out so you can get underneath it?” Hmmm. The trick questions just keep coming during this project. I couldn’t quite imagine the next layer down. Little comic strip words in a bubble pop up around my head with alternative answers to this inquiry. They include, but are not limited to:

No. Not really.

I guess so?

Ummm. If that’s the only way.

Is that the only way?

How am I going to reach that, exactly?

I’m hanging off of what?!

I really don’t have anywhere to put my feet. That one I said out loud.

I was left to tackle my task. I like to do things well, but I don’t like to do all things; you know what I mean. The wet vac is awkward, top-heavy and short-corded, with a mind of its own. I gathered that along with myself and headed down the ladder. You volunteered for this one, the final cartoon bubble said, bursting in a fit of giggles. I thought it best not to respond to me and pondered where I had stashed those weirdly-lined and now-crucial long yellow dish gloves. I dug them up, saviors.

That first fine afternoon a thirty-pound board was delivered to span the cramped yet cavernous space. While cumbersome at first, it did make the upside-downness a little easier. No paid-for yoga class inversions were required during those two weeks; my blood flow was primo as I tackled different kinds of strength and balance without the grace, peace or intention.

I’m more comfortable in there now, and that crucial space is degreased, scraped, sanded, and protected with two coats of primer and two coats of a tough-as-nails enamel called Bilge Coat. Eleven floorboards were removed, and all have shiny white paint on every surface. The pants I wore deserved a ceremonial burning but there are rules against that here in the boatyard. I’m sure I’ll break them someday. ~J

As I write this we are en route to Hope Town, Bahamas to reunite with our friend (and Sophie the little dog) on S/V ANTARES who lost the man in their life. After five days of SPARRING WITH MOTHER NATURE, and by the time you read this, we should be moored snuggly in Vero Beach, Florida, ready for other volunteers to crew her north up the Intracoastal Waterway. RIP Will Heyer. We got your girls.

Thank you, as always, for being part of the SPARRING community. I relish your comments and deeply appreciate all the new folks that are aboard. My work is free to peruse, critique and consider. Think it’s shareable? Do it!

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I don’t have a ‘buy me a coffee’ button because I’d probably spend it on wine and I always try to be honest. 😉

Here’s a spring shot in lieu of sunrise…these Wisteria are stunning & inverted, the opposite of sooty.

THANK YOU AGAIN for supporting STEADFAST and her caretakers, mates! It’s not an easy task!

© 2025 Janice Anne Wheeler
Living aboard Sailing Yacht STEADFAST again soon!
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