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

by Charles Sumner Seeley

The weather held fair for a week longer, and at the end of that time it had become quite evident that a bank of sand was steadily forming at the mouth of the chasm. It was already nearly up to the surface at low water, so that the inrush of water was very small compared with what it had been. We had gone up to the chasm in the morning as usual, and then again in the evening of the same day, as the weather was very threatening and the heat intense, and a glassy calm was on the sea, which, almost devoid even of a swell, spread out in a flat, metallic-looking plain with scarcely a wrinkle. A storm was surely brewing, and we might expect it that night or the following day at latest. But as there was nothing to do, except to wait its arrival and abide the result, I only went to the chasm to satisfy my curiosity. When I arrived, an hour or two before sunset, and examined the place carefully, I thought the galleon would probably be safe, unless the surge became so heavy as to sweep the breakwater out on its return flow. Mr. Millward was of the same opinion.

About midnight that night I was wakened by a tremendous crash of thunder. The sky was black with heavy clouds, lit up at short intervals by the lightning, and it had already begun to rain. Owing to the heat, I had been sleeping in my hammock at the shed. I immediately got up, partly dressed myself, and carried my hammock to the house, where I found my companions both wakened by the thunder. I called Duke in and secured the door, expecting a heavy rain, which speedily came down with a rush and steady roar upon the thatched roof. The wind followed from the old quarter, the northeast, and soon became almost a gale, beating and driving the rain against the walls in angry gusts.

Mr. Millward and I, talking through the darkness, speculated on the probable result to the galleon; but being unable, of course, to reach any satisfactory conclusion, we dropped finally to sleep, thus forgetting our worry and anxiety.

In the morning, after a cold breakfast, without coffee,—for the fire was out, everything in the way of fuel was wet, and there was no sun visible,—I started for the chasm. Breasting the stiff gale, which was accompanied by spits and dashes of rain, I made my way along the beach, full of apprehension as I saw the huge rollers come crashing in, and the heavy swell that had been raised by the gale. When I came to the north cape, and the rocks forming the chasm were in sight, the scene was indeed one of grandeur, and my worst fears seemed to have good grounds. The tremendous swell running in against the rocks broke with a thunderous noise; the spray flew high in the air, and was blown apparently clear over the rocks.

I had hurried along thus far as rapidly as I could travel against the strong wind; but now I hesitated, dreading to go far enough to see what had happened to the galleon. However, no good could come of waiting, so I plunged ahead and soon came to the rock which joined the shore, and ascended it that I might have a fair view of the chasm. I found that the chasm no longer existed as we had known it. Instead of an open race-way through which the current rushed, or into which the rollers broke, there was now a peaceful little pool, in the midst of which the galleon was dimly visible, sunk some feet below the surface. The water in this pool was not very clear; for every few minutes a mighty shower of spray flung on high fell like rain upon its surface, and the rocks all about were drenched, and covered with little rivulets. Even the spot where I stood was not exempt, but I took the wetting with cheerful fortitude under the circumstances. Both breakwaters were completely covered with sand. The one at the mouth was almost like a sand-hill, and reached nearly to the stem of the galleon, but was so drenched by the falling spray that I did not care to go upon it. The one at the rear, or exit, was far enough away so that the spray did not fall upon it to any great extent, and I therefore climbed down upon it to see how firm it was. I was very certain no one seeing this bank of sand would have imagined how it had been made. There was no indication whatever that the hand of man had had anything to do with its construction. It looked quite as though the sand had lain there for ages. The waves had done their work most thoroughly, and the aged hulk now rested in a quiet, land-locked harbor, as safe and secure from the sea as though it were in a dry dock.

Wet through by rain and spray combined, but elated and in the highest of spirits at the condition of our work, I hastened back as fast as my feet would carry me, helped on by the wind now at my back, to convey the joyful intelligence to my companions. Duke, who had accompanied me, seemed to read my satisfaction in my face and actions, for he bounded along frisking and barking as though the whole thing were a grand frolic. When I came to the creek he had already run on ahead to the house, so that Mr. Millward and Alice were apprised of my return, and were at the door looking for me as I came up to the house.

“What news do you bring?” asked the old man, anxiously.

“The best of good news,” cried I, “the very best of good news! The galleon is safely and snugly at rest in a basin where a tornado could not reach it.”

“Well, that is good!” said the old man, fervently.

“Excellent!” echoed the daughter, and added, solicitously, “but you are very wet, Mr. Morgan, and you must change your garments at once. It will never do to have the courier who brings such good tidings take harm by his journey.”