The Spanish Galleon / Being an account of a search for sunken treasure in the Caribbean Sea.

by Charles Sumner Seeley

The path, without the aid of which I could not have penetrated the dense growth, led along the bank of the stream close to the water. About a quarter of a mile further on the course of the stream changed, coming around a bend from the west, straight from the cliffs. I pressed on and soon found myself in a deep, narrow gorge, the path still running alongside the stream on a narrow margin of rocky shore, the cliff towering straight up on either hand. On the top of the rocks, at the level of the central plateau, was a dense forest, the trees of which, growing close to the gorge at each side, interlaced in a mass of foliage above, at times shutting out the sky. I followed the stream along the path entirely through the central plateau, and came out on the other side in what I have before spoken of as the north valley.

I was now in a bowl-shaped depression, walled in on the east by the cliffs of the central plateau, through which I had just come by way of the stream-cut gorge; on the west by the western rise or ridge which formed the shore cliffs, and which circled around to the north; and on the south by the connecting ridge between the plateau and the cliffs. The stream wound away in lazy curves through the flat bottom, and its head-waters seemed as far away as ever. To the right hand the sunlit gleam of water caught my eye at a distance, and I passed through the bushes until I discovered a narrow cleft in the rocks to the northwest, through which came a glimpse of the distant sea. There was a park-like appearance to some portion of this enclosure that was delightful. Across the middle, east and west, ran a little knoll, which formed the water-shed. All the water which fed the stream evidently came from the drainage of the valley south of this knoll. What water drained from the north slope probably had to find its way to the sea through the distant cleft.

I followed the stream until the path at its edge faded away to nothing, and then turned off toward the centre of the valley through the open grassy glades which were interspersed among the beautiful groves and clumps of trees. Very soon I came upon decided evidence of the hand of man. An old orange grove was here, planted regularly in rows; the trees broad and spreading, and at least fifty years old, were loaded with the golden, russet-tinted globes. The fruit was sweet and delicious. One variety, a tree with gnarled branches and mossy trunk, bore literally thousands of the small, yellow mandarin oranges, with a skin loose and thin as paper. Here too were rows of red-berried coffee-trees, thorny limes, and low-growing lemons, with here and there a dark-leafed grape-fruit. The whole plantation was more or less choked with weeds and undergrowth, clearly indicating abandonment, perhaps for years.

Near by were the great banner-like leaves of the banana and plantain, in abundance. This was a most valuable find, and it removed from my mind all fear of lack of food. Man can live almost upon the plantain alone. And it has been said that this valuable fruit furnishes food to more millions than any other vegetable product, not even excepting rice. Pushing on through the luxuriant growth that cumbered the earth, I came out finally into a little clearing on the top of the rise and found before me several low buildings. The weeds that grew all about, choking the paths and overflowing in all directions, too plainly told the tale of long desertion and abandonment. There was a principal dwelling-house of a single story, built of adobes, with a wide veranda; also three smaller houses at a little distance,—servants’ quarters probably; a large, low shed about which were scattered great heaps of old bagasse, or crushed sugar-cane, which indicated a sugar plantation; a tobacco-curing shed, in which still hung some shreds and fragments of withered tobacco; and other outhouses. There was an air of desolation about the place that was most depressing, as I stood waist-deep among the thrifty growth of weeds in the clear, hot sunshine, looking in astonishment at the scene.

I opened the front door and went into the house. All was vacancy and desolation,—dust, cobwebs, stains of water that had leaked in and pooled in spots upon the floor, dead flies, bugs, and spiders. There was a broken window-pane in one room, and through the small opening thus made had entered a great litter of dead leaves, which lay strewn about, indicating by their number the considerable time that must have elapsed while one by one they chanced to blow through the narrow opening. I was glad to get out again into the open air.

Here had been at one time a considerable plantation. Hundreds of acres had doubtless been under cultivation, and the busy sounds of life had been heard where now, save for the mournful complaint of a dove cooing from the orange grove for its mate, all was still.

That this plantation should have been unknown to me all this time seemed surprising to me at the moment. But in truth, had I not followed up the course of the creek, it is quite probable I never should have discovered it; for all about on every hand were rocky walls and dense foliage, both hiding it from view and rendering it difficult of access. There were really but two roads to this place from the outer world, one by the way I had just come, and the other by way of the sea through the distant cleft above spoken of.

Traces of a broad road led from the buildings toward this cleft, and I followed it down past the remains of sugar, corn, and tobacco fields, until I stood on the margin of a deep, rock-walled cove, open on one side to the valley, where was a rude landing-pier, and on the other by a narrow gate or passage to the sea. This was the harbor and port of the old plantation. The cove, though so small, would have floated a man-of-war, and was almost land-locked, the narrow entrance not being above thirty feet in width at the water level.

I remembered that when I made the circuit of the island on foot I waded across the mouth of this cove at low water. There must therefore be a bar, with barely water enough at low tide to get a boat over; but at high tide there would probably be twelve or fifteen feet. That I did not see the wooden pier at that time was due to the fact that the cove took a bend to the left after entering from the sea. Had the rocks been less abrupt, I should doubtless have turned in at that time and endeavored to cross the island here instead of going a mile farther north, beyond the limits of the valley.

I wandered over the abandoned plantation in all directions for several hours, but found nothing of special interest except a flock of half-wild domestic chickens, descendants doubtless of some left by the former residents here. I gathered a dozen leaves of tobacco, thinking that Mr. Millward might like to have a cigar. After eating the frugal lunch I had brought, supplemented with some fruit, I sat down under an orange-tree and rolled me a cigar of some of the dried leaf, which I lighted with the burning-glass, and proceeded to enjoy a quiet smoke of the fragrant tobacco. While I sat thus slowly and placidly cogitating over the means of reaching the treasure, and varying that line of thought from time to time with speculations as to the former inhabitants of the island, suddenly the whole plan which had been floating unformed in my mind took concrete shape, apparently of its own accord and without effort. The riddle was read and the problem was solved.