The Ghost Galleon
In the century following Columbus’ dramatic voyage of discovery in 1492, the
riches of her New World colonies helped make Spain the most powerful nation in
Europe. Taxes on goods shipped from Central and South America by Spanish merchants
enabled Spain to defend its Western Hemisphere claims against the English, French,
and Dutch, and to extend its empire halfway around the world into the South Pacific.
The Atocha and its sister ship, Santa Margarita, are tragic milestones along this
broad commercial highway (called Carrera de Indias by the Spanish) that carried
Europe on a journey from isolation to world domination. Not only were the colonies
prime consumers of goods produced in Spain; the conquests initiated a torrent of
valuable agricultural goods, precious metals and high-quality gems that pulsed
through the veins of Spanish mercantile shipping and back to the mother country.
From 1530 to 1800, approximately six billion to eight billion dollars of gold and
silver were mined in the Spanish American colonies. During this time, the ratio of
gold to silver shipped to Spain was about one to ten. This wealth drastically changed
the course of European history, raising Spain to a position of world dominance.
When 16-year-old Philip IV ascended the throne in 1621, he inherited an empire
that controlled vast territories on four continents, a mission to purge Europe
of the growing threat of Protestantism, and a huge national debt.
The trade with the Indies, and the taxes and revenues the Crown derived from it,
were the financial lifeline which kept the Empire-and its staunch defense of
Catholicism-afloat. The threats to this lifeline were legion. The Dutch openly
attacked the Indies fleets. The English and French continuously challenged
Spain’s claims in the New World. And internally, Spanish merchants engaged in
smuggling, bribery, and deceit to avoid paying the quinto, a 20% tax levied on
the proceeds of trade with the Indies.
In 1503, a regulatory agency was established to oversee every aspect of Spain’s
trade with the Indies. Called the Casa de Contrastacion, it functioned both as
ministry of commerce and official school of navigation. A clerk, or escribano,
accompanied each vessel and maintained the official record of all cargo loaded
and unloaded: the ship’s manifest. The manifest served as the basis for collecting
the quinto and the averia, an additional tax, as high as 40% helped the government
offset the cost of defending the merchant vessels that brought Indies wealth to
Spain.
To discourage smuggling, the Crown decreed in 1510 that smugglers would forfeit
their contraband and pay a fine of four times its value. Naval officers convicted
of smuggling could be sentenced to several years as a galley slave. Despite the
tough laws, it’s estimated that more than 20 percent of the gold and silver mined
in the New World was smuggled back to Spain untaxed.
To minimize losses to armed raiders, Spain required all merchant ships to sail in
convoys, which were protected by escort ships known as galleons. The galleons were
a special type of warship, up to a hundred feet long and rigged with square sails.
The profile was unmistakable, as the stern section of a galleon, called the
sterncastle, soared up to 35 feet above the ship’s waterline, and was capped
with the classic high poop deck. And the galleons were heavily armed, mounting
huge bronze cannons. Although slower than the quick brigantines and sloops favored
by pirates, the galleons possessed immense firepower. Still, perhaps five percent
of the silver and gold mined by Spain in the New World was lost at sea or
confiscated by pirates. In addition to the galleons sailing among the merchant
ships in convoy, two strong galleons -a capitana, which led the group, and an
almiranta, which brought up the rear-provided extra protection against English,
French, and Dutch raiders. The convoys sailed from Spain in early spring and,
upon arriving in the Caribbean, dispersed into groups to pick up heavy consignments
of Royal treasure from various ports in the colonies.
Each fleet, or flota, had a specific destination. The Manila fleet sailed from the
Philippines and delivered fine china, porcelain, silk, and other products of Spain’s
trade in the Orient to Acapulco. The cargo was then transported overland to Veracruz,
on the east coast of Mexico. At Veracruz, it was picked up by the New Spain fleet
along with gold and silver from the Royal mint at Mexico City.
The Tierra Firme fleet was loaded in Portobello and Cartagena with silver and
gold from Peru, Ecuador, Venezuela, and Colombia. Copper from the King’s mines
in Cuba was added in Havana. The Honduras fleet called at Trujillo for valuable
indigo dye.
When things went according to plan, all fleets met in Havana, Cuba in July to
assemble the cargo for the voyage back to Spain. The bulk of the gold and silver
was usually carried by the large, heavily-armed galleons, while the smaller
merchant ships transported agricultural products.
Spain was still the preeminent power in 1622. However, her position of power was
badly slipping as the crucial stages of the Thirty Years War unfolded. The year
before, Spain had ended a 12-year truce with her rebellious Dutch provinces. The
Dutch had joined with France, openly attacking Spanish naval and merchant
vessels. The cost of the fighting sapped Spain’s economy, and the Royal
Treasury was seriously overextended. To finance the war and continue the
pomp and splendor of the Royal Court, the Crown borrowed heavily; so heavily
that the king’s bankers kept representatives in Seville to claim a large share
of the wealth when the rich convoys arrived from the New World each year.
Although the treasure fleet had sailed in 1621, money in the treasury was
dangerously low. Collected taxes and royal proceeds accumulating in the Americas
were desperately needed. It was paramount that the 1622 fleet successfully make
the long and dangerous voyage. The government’s creditors were impatient, and
the king’s share of the treasure would keep them at bay a bit longer. It might
even convince them to extend more badly needed funds for the war effort.
Despite the urgent need, the fleet could only begin its voyage in late spring
or early summer. The Atlantic is hospitable to sailing ships only a few months
each year. Winter storms in the North Atlantic made the trip to the Americas
dangerous if taken before early spring. And from June to October, the South
Atlantic routes traveled by the convoys on their journey back to Spain from
Havana were racked by hurricanes. Lashed by mammoth seas, ships ambushed by
a hurricane could neither steer nor sail. They could merely run in front of
the wind and hope it blew itself out before the ship was swamped or her hull
was torn open on a shallow coral reef. The later in the summer the fleets
sailed from Havana, the more likely they were to encounter a major hurricane.
If the convoys waited out the hurricane season in the harbor at Havana – leaving
in late October or November-they risked sailing into the violent winter storms
of the North Atlantic.
This year, the flotas left Spain separately: the Tierra Firme fleet, including
the heavily-armed Nuestra Senora de Atocha, left March 23, 1622, arriving at
Portobello on the Isthmus of Panama on May 24. Seven Guard galleons, including
the Santa Margarita, sailed from Cadiz on April 23, arriving at the island of
Dominica on May 31. There, 16 smaller vessels fanned out to pick up goods from
around the Caribbean while the Guard galleons sailed to Cartagena, Colombia to
unload their outbound cargos, arriving on June 24. Finding that much of the
silver and gold to be shipped back to Spain had not yet arrived at the port
for loading, the Guard galleons sailed for Portobello, joining the Tierra
Firme fleet there on July 1.
The commander of the Guard fleet, the Marquis of Cadereita, was told that 36
Dutch warships were at the Araya salt-pans on the north coast of South America.
For extra protection he commandeered a privately owned galleon, Nuestra Senora
del Rosario, to his Guard fleet, bringing it up to its full authorized strength
of eight ships.
The ships left Portobello, arriving back in Cartagena on July 27. After receiving
more cargo, they sailed for Cuba on August 3. Poor sailing conditions delayed
their arrival, and the fleet didn’t reach Havana until August 22. The presence
of so many Dutch raiders must have weighed heavily on the Marquis’ mind. The New
Spain fleet had collected its cargo in Mexico and waited in Havana for the rest
of the fleets. Now, as the most dangerous part of the hurricane season neared,
its commander impatiently requested permission to sail for Spain. The Marquis
assented, but directed that the bulk of the bullion shipped back under the
protection of the big cannons of the Guard fleet.
The Marquis split his fleet into two parts. He would sail in the capitana, the
lead ship, Nuestra Senora de Candeleria. Much of the one and a half million pesos
worth of treasure-aboard worth today perhaps $400 million-was assigned to the
Santa Margarita and the new ship, the Nuestra Senora de Atocha. The Atocha had
been built in the Havana shipyard and, sure to bring her good luck, was named
for the most revered religious shrine in Spain. Just in case the Almighty’s
providence didn’t extend to sinking Dutch warships, the Atocha was fitted with
20 bronze cannons. This strong ship was to be the almiranta, sailing last to
protect the slow, lumbering merchant ships in the rear of the flota. The Tierra
Firme and Guard ships – 28 vessels in all-departed from Havana on September 4,
six weeks behind schedule.
Neither God’s providence nor gunpowder could protect the ships from the weather.
On September 5, the fleets were overtaken by a rapidly-moving hurricane. As dawn
streaked the horizon, it brought dread to the more experienced sailors. The gale
force winds, rising out of the northeast, quickly increased. The gusts raked the
surface of the northward-flowing Gulf Stream, piling up huge seas in front of the
ships. Aboard the Atocha, the chief pilot lit a lantern as clouds and rain
blackened the sky. Ahead, the lead galleons were already out of sight. The
merchant ships sailing close by the almiranta were themselves hidden by rain
as the storm swept by. Crewmen scrambled into the rigging to take in sail. As
they hung from this fragile rope spider’s web high above the deck, the ends of
the yard arms dipped into the ocean as the ship rolled violently. Frothing green
water roared across the deck. Just before darkness, a veil of spray closed around
the seasick passengers and crew of the Atocha. They watched in horror as the
tiny Nuestra Senora de la Consolacion, wallowing in the mammoth seas, simply
capsized and disappeared.
That night, the wind shifted, coming out of the south. The hurricane now hurled
the fleet north toward the Florida reef line. Before daylight, the Marquis’
ship-the Candeleria-and 20 other vessels passed to the west of a group of
rocky islands, the Dry Tortugas. Beyond the reefs of the Straits of Florida,
they rode out the winds in the safe, deep waters of the Gulf of Mexico. Behind
them, they’d left several small merchant vessels on the bottom in deep water.
At least four ships, including the Atocha and Santa Margarita, were swept
headlong into the Florida Keys. Near a low-lying atoll fringed with mangroves,
15-foot rollers carried the Margarita across the reef, grounding her in the
shallows beyond. As she crossed the reef, her commander, Captain Bernardino de
Lugo, looked to the east. There he saw the Atocha.
With crew and passengers huddled, praying below deck, the Atocha approached the
line of reefs dividing safe, deep water from certain death. The frenzied crew
dropped anchors into the reef face, hoping to hold the groaning, creaking
galleon off the jagged coral. A wave lifted the ship, and, in the next instant,
flung it down directly onto the reef. The main mast snapped as the huge seas
washed Atocha off the reef and beyond, trailing her broken mast. Water poured
through a gaping hole in the bow, quickly filling the hull with water. The great
ship slipped beneath the surface, finding bottom 55 feet below; only the stump of
the mizzenmast broke the waves. Of the 265 persons aboard, 260 drowned. Three
crewmen and two black slaves clung to the mast until they were rescued the next
morning by a launch from another fleet ship, the Santa Cruz.
The lost ships of the 1622 treasure fleet lay scattered over 50 miles stretching
from the Dry Tortugas eastward to where the Atocha slipped beneath the water.
About 550 people perished along with a total cargo worth more than 2
million pesos.