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

by Charles Sumner Seeley

Now that the gold was found I was in a state of feverish anxiety to get it out of the galleon. It seemed as though misfortune hung over us in the cloudless sky. I could not hasten fast enough. The minutes seemed hours. A great dread was upon me. I could not have slept while the treasure remained where it lay. To my excited brain and wrought-up imagination it seemed that the very ghosts of those who once owned the gold would come to claim it. Though it would be days before the pearl-fishers could get back, I could not avoid casting anxious glances toward the western horizon. Mr. Millward appeared to partake in some degree of this same anxious condition of mind. I am certain no two men ever worked more freely up to the extent of their physical abilities than we did that day. We loosened up and carried to Mr. Millward’s boat the whole of the precious metal, more than a ton in weight including the gold and silver together, and stowed it on a layer of canvas where it might serve as ballast, clearing out the ballast that was already there, and covered it over with the sail cloth of the tent, and over that a layer of sand to conceal it all.

That night we slept on board the boat, and we began to feel the anxious care of the charge that wealth brings. I got little sleep, and was restless, and up and down all night. In the morning we began and continued until late in the afternoon a systematic examination of the entire interior of the galleon, searching for more treasure, but we found nothing, and brought nothing more away from the wreck except the pane of glass, and the decanter and goblets which I, for souvenirs, removed at Alice’s request.

There was nothing more to keep us on the island; the weather was fair and settled, the wind was favorable, and we might have started that night, but Mr. Millward thought it would be wise to provision the boat better and renew our water. Moreover, Alice expressed a wish to visit once more our house that we might bid farewell to scenes which we might never revisit. We therefore sailed for Home Creek in the sloop, leaving my boat behind me as we should have no further occasion for it. We reached the creek an hour before sunset, and moored the boat in her old snug place. Nothing at the house had been disturbed. By the level rays of the sun as he was about to sink behind the central plateau of the island I lit a fire, and soon we had one started in the oven as well. Then began the roasting, baking, and boiling, of pork and beans, bread, yams, potatoes, coffee, and whatever we had in store. It was midnight before we completed our task and went to bed.

Alice and her father slept at the house, and I made my bed in the boat, the gun by my side, and Duke curled up at my head.

The last day on the island dawned clear and bright; the blue sky unflecked by a single cloud hung high above; the favorable wind that we had sighed for in vain at times was gently rustling through the foliage and swaying the graceful palms; the myriad voices of Nature sounded all about in the song of bird and hum of insect and boom of surf. When I rose to greet the day I saw Alice standing on the porch in the full sunlight, looking out at the sea all glistening as it was with light from a million facets. Presently Mr. Millward came out, his white head bare and his commanding figure erect and unbowed by years. They stood together thus when I came up and joined the group.

There was little to do before we left. Our breakfast, for which we did not light a fire, was soon over. Then we loaded on our provisions, emptied and re-filled our water-gourds for the voyage, stored them, and were ready to go. I dug up my pearls from their place of concealment. Alice went into the house and brought out my nautilus-shell from the mantel. We would leave all else as it was for the benefit possibly of some shipwrecked successor, and carry away only what we needed for our use upon the voyage.

Then together we three, followed by the faithful Duke, made a round of visits to the various familiar places,—the salt-pan, incrusted now with white salt; the shed, beneath whose shade we had toiled so hard and passed so many pleasant hours; the house, the oven, the garden, now luxuriant in its rich abundance of growth; the cocoanut grove,—and to all bade a silent farewell. At the last, with tears in her sweet eyes, Alice begged that I would walk with her down the beach and sit upon the rock by the seaside as we had done once before in a time that now seemed so long ago. When we reached the rock she put her arms about my neck and said, “It was here I first knew I loved you, dear. I could not go away without coming here with you to say good-by to the dear old island.”

Ah! fair Key Seven, good-by, good-by. How much of happiness do I owe your friendly shores. Shine forth a gem of the sea. Smile ever in my remembrance as on that fair morning when, clad in all your loveliness, my bride and I bade farewell to your palms and sands and groves and streams, and listened for the last time to the chorus of your birds. Farewell, farewell. May we hope some day to come and visit these scenes again, and open once more the gates of this earthly paradise before we pass through the valley that leads us to the final home.

It was ten o’clock in the morning when we embarked and set sail from Key Seven bound for Martinique, a fair wind wafting us over the sea, the tinkling water at the bow and the broad wake behind speaking well for the good speed we made. By two o’clock the island hung a trembling, hazy, blue cloud in the west. We looked at it with regret filled with sweet remembrance, as it sunk lower and lower and finally, fading away out of sight, was gone from our view.