So, in preparation of their arrival Dullie anchored the boat by the ble rocks at the entrance of French Harbour lagoon and crawled back into his hole. Dullie waited, but they never came. A new judge took over and decided to dismiss the case as no one got hurt. On another occasion some custom officials came to French Cay to search Dullie’s boat, but he fired a couple shots at the whole crew and the Official told the captain to turn around and get the hell out of there because that guy was crazy.
On one occasion, the custom officials obtained a life boat belonging to Charlie Osgood who got it of the SS Snyg that ran agroAZund off Crawfish Rock in 1899. Upon arriving in French Cay, the officers attempted to confiscate Dullies boat and contraband. They were soon greater by the shouts of his booming voice: “the first man to step foot on this beachhead will be a dead son of a bitch.”
Dullie had the reputation of being a tough, but fair man. Another islander once said something about him behind his back one day and he found out. Dullie confronted this man about it saying — “admit it and live, or deny it and die” — to which the island man shuddered, admitted it and then apologized, Dullie let him go.
Someone opened fire through the window.
A few years later the family was going through a dispute regarding property. Two cousins involved were scared of him and what the outcome would be so, one day these two brothers, a friend and a cousin got together.
After drinking all morning, they saw Dullie casually walking down the street with his gun over his shoulder in a sack and accompanied by his 12 year old son Joe. Someone opened fire through the window shooting Dullie. It was January 28, 1935.
My dad Archie Jones always said he didn’t think the man who took the blame for the killing actually did it, as this man was near sighted and not a good shot with a rifle.
This man ran away to Belize to live and his brother soon followed him there with his family. The third cousin in the group was a boy of 15 who went away to work on the sea and joined the US merchant Marines. Forty years later, this boy retired back to Roatan and on his deathbed, he told his son and other family members that it was actually him who fired the gun that killed Dullie and not my cousin who took the blame.
He said this was the one act that he regretted his whole life. This man’s son and Dullie’s grandson turned out to be really good friends and drinking buddies. One day at Romero’s bar and restaurant the man’s son revealed his father’s death bed confession to his friend, Dullie’s grandson.
They both agreed it was water under the bridge and that it would not affect their friendship in anyway. They embraced each other with this promise. Dullie’s family could now find closure to this story. All persons mentioned in this article have since passed on.