A journey towards Truth.

By Josiah Marvel, Expedition Scholar ~ Photos By Jon Nickson, eyeSpice, Expedition Photographer

Everyone knows that Christopher Columbus crossed the Atlantic Ocean with three ships in 1492 and landed at an island on its other side on October 12, now celebrated as Columbus Day. But where he landed has been disputed for centuries. No fewer than ten islands in the Bahamas and Turks & Caicos Islands have been claimed as the place where Columbus first stepped ashore on the far side of the ocean. We decided to put one landfall theory to the test of actual navigation among the islands that Columbus is likely to have coasted and called at, as described in the log of his epochal voyage. Sailing Vessel Destiny departed Providenciales on November 2, 2014 and concluded her cruise on November 17, 2014. Here is the log of that epic journey.

Sunday, November 2 — Day One Our day began at 5:47 AM with casting off from a friend’s dock at Leeward. Tim cast us off and Captain Dave directed Destiny out Leeward Cut to skirt the Caicos Islands to the north with the objective of anchoring at Grand Turk. Despite threatening clouds in the east, the north wind was suitable to our purpose and we had the pleasure of an accompaniment of a pod of friendly dolphin. We reached Grand Turk by late afternoon and owing to a northeast wind, anchored in security on Hawk’s Nest Anchorage described by Columbus and recommended twice by the Royal Navy as a good harbour. Tomorrow, “Following Columbus” begins in earnest.

Monday, November 3 — Day Two We benefited from a calm night in Hawk’s Nest Anchorage while a high wind lashed Grand Turk from the northeast and giant ocean rollers battered Grand Turk’s entire western shore.

This morning we explored the western edge of the anchorage by Zodiac and were impressed with seeing the rocky ridge rising precipitously from the sea to the ruins of the small cannon emplacement Colonel Murray had constructed in the 1790s. The southern end of this ridge terminates abruptly by the edge of the southern branch of Grand Turk’s South Creek. This offers the possibility of creating a communication between South Creek and the sea through low sandy soil. This conforms with Columbus’s remark that a place suitable for building a fort overlooking an anchorage “large enough for all the ships of Christendom” could be separated into an island by men digging for two days. We also identified an apparently undisturbed place for a future archaeological survey to seek evidence of the six Lucayan houses Columbus described.

Tonight we have the honor of receiving Governor and Mrs. Beckingham aboard Destiny for a moonlight aperitif. Tomorrow we cross the Columbus Passage to explore the Caicos Islands as recorded before 1523 by Fernandez de Oviedo.

Tuesday, November 4 — Day Three

“Give me a spirit that on this life’s rough sea loves t’have his sails filled with a lusty wind, even till his sail-yards tremble; his masts crack, and his rapt ship run on her side so low that she drinks water and her keel plows air; There is no danger to a man, that knows what life and death is: there’s not any law, exceeds his knowledge; neither is it lawful That he should stoop to any other law. He goes before them, and commands them all, That to himself is a law rational.” George Chapman 1608

This English seafarers’ poem published in the early 17th century describes at once our joys and dangers today. We raised our mainsail at 7 AM this morning and, once free of Hawk’s Nest, sailed up the west side of Grand Turk. Thence across the Columbus Passage with a forceful northeast wind and 8 to 12 foot rollers from the north. Columbus experienced nothing like this on the fourth day of his exploring the Lucayan Islands, but despite the contrary weather we were able to study the north side of the Caicos Islands and their impressive reef. Owing to the distance sailed it now seems improbably that Columbus might have reached Malcolm Roads on the northwest side of Providenciales as presented in the provisional itinerary. As is noted in his log, Columbus sees another island to the west.

Wednesday, November 5 — Day Four

Sheltered from the harsh wind, we spent a peaceful night tucked into Stubb’s Creek near Leeward Going Through, Providenciales. Main sail and jib were up at 8 AM, wind was from the northeast, and large ocean rollers traveled outside the reef. Sailing northwest on a beam reach we reached Mayaguana by mid-afternoon. For what follows, reference is made to Columbus’s Diario under Tuesday 16 October.

We’ve concluded that an anchorage off Pine Cay approached through Fort George Cut is Columbus’s most plausible anchorage the night of October 15. This is corroborated by Columbus’s finding a solitary Lucayan in a dugout canoe on his way to the third island with items the Spaniards had distributed on the first island, Guanahani-San Salvidor. This Lucayan had traveled by canoe for about three days, crossing the Columbus Passage and the Caicos Banks to reach the Caicos Passage through one of the cuts northeast of Providenciales. Our deduced Pine Cay anchorage is also supported by Columbus’s noting that he was seeing an island to the west which we deduce is Blue Hills on Providenciales, easily visible at dawn to the west of Pine Cay.

We propose that the morning of October 16, Columbus ordered his fleet to set a course to the west in order to explore the island he saw, but upon seeing a sole Lucayan in a canoe on his way to Mayaguana outside the reef, changed course to pick him up, offer him hospitality and most likely accept his willingness to show the way to an island whose natives presumably wore gold.

Columbus navigated all day with light wind and arrived near the southeast point of the island he named Fernandina in honour of the king of Spain. He did not anchor because he arrived so late and spent the night hove to.

Thursday, November 6 — Day Five

“Earth leads by earth but you, O sea, lead by heaven. With what security of light of silver and gold do the stars mark for us the route! One would say that earth is the road of the body; that sea is the road of the soul. Yes, it seems the soul’s the sole traveller by sea, the body, alone, stands behind on strands, without her, saying goodbye, heavy, cold, dead like. How similar the voyage by sea to that of death, in that of eternal life!” Juan Ramon Jimenez (1881–1958)

We’re celebrating this full moon evening with a poem by the Nobel lauriat Juan Ramon Jimenez of Moguer, Spain, the home of several of Columbus’s mariners. We spent the day exploring Mayaguana by land and gathering local knowledge on the southeast part of the island which is currently inaccessible by road. Columbus anchored twice at the island he named Fernandina, admirably conforming with Mayaguana. He did this for the purpose of filling the fleet’s water barrels. While his men were occupied with this, Columbus admired the rich vegetation, noting epiphytes growing among branches of trees. Back on the flagship, Columbus described the brightly coloured fish he observed near the reef at the entrance to the large shallow harbour, we believe, of Abraham’s Bay. Mayaguana has a extensive fresh water lens and shallow wells offering reliable sources of potable water.

Tomorrow we set sail for the Hogsty Reef, the only atoll in the entire Atlantic Ocean. There we shall be out of reach of both telephone and Internet connections. So we ask those who are following us on this quest to be patient until we regain contact with the world on Great Inagua in about three days.

Friday, November 7 — Day Six

Arose at 5 AM. Departed Abraham’s Bay around 6 AM. Found the wind set against us and after an hour’s attempt to head to Hogsty, concluded that it would be impossible to reach the atoll in daylight. So we turned around and sailed back to Abraham’s Bay to await a more propitious wind, forecast to arrive early tomorrow. Anchored again in the Bay, bow to the wind . . . an echo of the old Spanish “Barca a la capa, marinero en hamaca,” Bow to the wind, sailor to bed.

At this writing after a good rest, the wind is changing to a light east wind. So we shall rise at 2 AM tomorrow morning and depart at 3 AM. With an east wind we must alter our course to head first to the northeast point of Great Inagua (Columbus’s Cabo del Isleo), and anchor for the night. Thence we sail to the northwest point of Great Inagua (Columbus’s Cabo Hermoso) and anchor for the night after photographing the coast. Finally, we’ll head to Hogsty Reef from Inagua to anchor there for two nights. This is in a contrary order to that of Columbus’s track, but is dictated by the contrary winds we’re experiencing.

One final point on Mayaguana must be made. Columbus writes that the coast of Fernandina, the third island, is all beaches with no rocks. Even though the south coast of Mayaguana facing the Windward Passage still bears the scars inflicted by Hurricane Irene in 2011, it is predominately beach. This is decidedly not the case with the Atlantic coast of Long Island, the Fernandina of all central Bahama landfall hypotheses, which is mostly rocky ironshore with little sand. At the southeast end of Mayaguana we’ve identified undisturbed places to look for a Lucayan settlement where Columbus first filled the ships’ water barrels.

We’re not sure that communication links exist for the north point of Great Inagua. If they exist we’ll continue our account from there.

Saturday, November 8 — Day Seven

Left Abraham’s Bay at 3 AM as planned. The forecast southeast wind came from the south, obliging us to motor almost all the way from Mayaguana to the north point of Great Inagua which we believe is Columbus’s Saometio/Isabela.

In passing Little Inagua we noted a reef on its north side, a very rocky shore on its northwest side, a beachy shore studded with beautiful coral heads on its southwest side, and rocky shallows to its south. Five miles of open water separate Little Inagua from the north extension of Great Inagua from which a tongue of rocky shallows extends to the north.

We motored along the northeast edge of Ocean Bight and noted several good anchorages for an east wind which Columbus experienced on October 19 when he sailed across this bight, and again when he anchored by its northeast coast on the nights of October 20, 21, and 22. We can confirm that Ocean Bight from Inagua’s North Cape to Polacca Point is about twenty miles long, and another twelve miles brings us opposite Sheep Cay off Alfred Sound, or twelve leagues as Columbus recorded. Thence another eight miles to the open roadstead of Northwest Point.

We anchored in Alfred Sound, a shallow harbour perfect for a catamaran, protected from the south wind and the swell of the sea, just around the point where we believe Columbus anchored after a wind change from north to east.

Sunday, November 9 — Day Eight

The place where we believe Columbus anchored is a tongue of Great Inagua jutting northwest into the sea. Just inside its west coast offering an open roadstead and a sandy bottom, there is a small creek running from the sea paralleling the coast inland to the northwest. Farther south, a large pond running southwest–northeast gives the impression that this point is cut off from the rest of the island by a creek. Here is how Columbus describes his anchorage on 19 October, folio 15 recto, 44 – 15 verso, 1,2: “this here I call Cabo Hermoso (Cape Beautiful) — I believe it is an island apart from Saometo and still there is another small one in between.” This is too close a correspondence to be ascribable to chance, and besides, there is nothing that remotely resembles this geography on Long Cay–Fortune Island.

In the course of exploring Saometo/Isabela Columbus mentions how he enjoyed the songbirds and wondered at the flight of parrots that obscured the sun. This afternoon we endeavored to find a tree-bound flock of green Inagua parrots with their blue-tipped wings, yellow bills, and red gorgets. Alas, despite touring a promising section of bush, none were found. Our guide, Mr. Henry Nixon, warden of the National Park famous for its flamingos, considered the Inagua parrots so numerous that they were considered nuisances. Ergo, they still exist after more than five hundred years.

Tomorrow we depart for the Hogsty Reef with what we hope will remain an east wind. Absence of communication will keep us mute for the next two days.

Monday, November 10 — Day Nine

“It, the archaic ship, shall have lost itself on seas where my unchecked dreams will bathe, and its immense masts shall have become indistinct in the fogs of a heaven of Bible and Sacred Song. And this won’t be the Greek bucolic that’ll sweetly play among the naked trees; and the Holy Ship will never have sold its most rare merchandise in exotic lands. It doesn’t know the fires of Earth’s harbours, it only knows God, and ceaseless, solitary, it parts the glorious floods of the Infinite. Its bowsprit’s tip plunges into the Mystery; on its masts’ trucks there trembles every night the silver, mystic and pure, of the polar star” Antonin Artaud, Marseille,1913.

Around 8:30 AM we motored briefly south along the sea side of Northwest Point on Great Inagua to examine anchorage possibilities to its west and found a fine patch of clear sandy bottom about a quarter of a mile offshore in some 25 feet of water — certainly a sound spot for Columbus’s anchorage of October 19 with an early north wind veering later to east.

Today we motor-sailed with faint wind north to Hogsty Reef, arriving inside the atoll to anchor over a sandy bottom in 16 feet of water at 2:45 PM. We positioned ourselves inside the horseshoe reef of the atoll to seek protection from a sizable swell driven by a northeast wind. Since the Internet weather prognosticators forecast a wind shifting to north this morning, we fancied that this would be favorable for sailing to Castle Island the next day.

At about 1:30 AM a squall struck. As Destiny pranced over the choppy water and rain drummed savagely on her cabin, bolts of lightning struck the sea around us with deafening blasts of thunder. Fortunately none struck us. By dawn all had calmed down, and the wind, as forecast, blew gently from the north, too feeble for sailing to Castle Island.

Tuesday, November 11 — Day Ten

Hogsty Reef is an atoll open to the west rather like a horseshoe heading east. Its northwest and southwest ends are punctuated with sand cays each bearing a low cover of green vegetation. The larger northwest cay supports low bushes and is recognized from a distance by a well-built stone tower shaped like a Buddhist stupa. Next to it are the remains of an extinct solar-powered light on a rusting iron column, which has long ceased to serve as a warning for mariners near this veritable ships’ graveyard.

In exploring the northwest cay yesterday, we noted the decaying remains of three small iron-hulled vessels in addition to two spectacular tramp steamer wrecks on the protecting reef to the east.

We also found a small quantity of beautiful Bahama shells and photographed a recent nest where a large sea turtle had laboriously clambered up from the surf, dug a pit, laid her eggs, covered them carefully with sand and weed, and departed for the sea by a different route.

The southwest cay, much smaller than its neighbor to the north, is covered with succulent shrubs quite different from the bush on the northwest cay. We spotted the remains of a sixth shipwreck on the seaward side of the reef running to the east. From having explored this surreal atoll resembling a floating opalescent turquoise jewel in the midst of open bottomless water, we conclude that the most likely anchorage for Columbus experiencing an easterly wind would have been the chart-recommended holding ground just west of the northwest cay. This place is well protected from the swell of the sea by the reef lying to the east and offers a clear sandy bottom. For an explorer intent on finding gold, it’s easy to sense the contempt with which Columbus summarily mentions this late anchorage before nightfall of October 18.

Wednesday, November 12 — Day Eleven

Up at 6 AM, we were disappointed to find the wind blowing from the northwest contrary to forecasts and opposed to where we wished to go. Had we time, this northwest wind would have been good for tracing Columbus’s V-shaped deployment of his fleet to find Saometo/Isabela on October 19. But, alas, we must press on.

Around noon we steered toward the white lighthouse on the south end of Castle Island, just south of the tip of Acklins Island. As we approached the lighthouse end of this island, two things struck us. The first is that, from the sea, Castle Island gives the appearance of being an extremity of Acklins which runs up toward the north bending to the east. The second thing is that at a distance of five miles (two Columbus leagues), the island’s green topping of fairly high trees is readily visible. We have now supporting evidence for interpreting the expression me quedava in the Diario translation.

So here is what we’re persuaded happened during Columbus’s navigation of Wednesday October 24: At midnight of this day and night, with an awaited easterly wind, he set sail for Cuba, navigating to the west-southwest from the north point of Great Inagua (his Cabo del Isleo) until dawn. At this point the wind calmed and it rained as it had during much of the night. After midday the wind blew again “very loving,” veering clockwise most likely from the southeast to the southwest. This would make it impossible to continue navigating to the west-southwest. We conclude that Columbus headed to the northwest following the wind, bringing him late on the 25th off the end of Castle Island, close enough to remark its verdant tree cover and in consequence to name it Cabo Verde. Continuing to the northwest Columbus records that when it grew dark he was lying off the Green Cape “of the Island Fernandina which is on the south side of the west part” to the northwest at a distance of seven leagues (almost 19 miles).

This location is about 55 miles distant from the Ragged Islands following the estimated distances and recorded bearings in Columbus’s Diario, he most probably benefitting from a northerly wind clocking round to the east as it does in these waters following passage of a cold front. (For further information on this reconstruction, the interested reader is referred to our website’s (http://followingcolumbus.com) Grand Turk landfall theory.

Today our wind continued to blow from the northwest. The forecast has suggested that it will persist all morning, veering to blow from the north towards evening. These adverse winds have obliged us to consume more diesel than anticipated. Accordingly, we’ve reluctantly taken the decision to skip exploring the undisputed anchorage south of the Ragged Islands and navigate to Clarence Town on Long Island to refuel. This afternoon the north wind has obliged us to tuck into a protected anchorage on Castle Island, after which we made an evening exploration of its southern part and its magnificent blinded and neglected Victorian lighthouse. Among the beach debris encountered, we found a sealed bottle containing a barely legible message from an artist in New York City!

Thursday, November 13 — Day Twelve

Up at 6 AM for breakfast and departure from Castle Island with a stubbornly persisting north wind dropping to a flat calm. Without even thinking of hoisting a sail we motored effortlessly over a glabrous pane of indigo sea bound for Landrail Point near the northwest cape of Crooked Island. We spent part of the day studying the west coast of Long Cay/Fortune Island and finding that the island’s physiography utterly precludes imagining it Columbus’s fourth island, Saometo/Isabela.

While there are to be found pretty beaches near the southwest extremity of the island, the remaining three-quarters of its west coast lie behind an intermittent barrier reef that menaces below the surface of the sea like shark’s teeth — a perilous coast to explore with a fifteenth-century sailing vessel unless well outside the reef.

Columbus begins his description of Saometo/Isabela at the north end of the island facing an isleo. However one interprets this term (which the translation renders as a rocky islet), the north end of Long/Fortune faces two cays and is unapproachable by ships having a draft of six feet or more. The closest one can get to the north end of Long/Fortune with such a draft is outside the reef at a distance of about seven miles from shore.

In his Diario, Columbus describes a large all-beach bight running to the west from the fourth island’s north point. Even though the Spanish term angla signifies a cape, the Portuguese term angra signifies a bight. Considering that Columbus spoke Portuguese before he had mastered Castilian and that our copy of the Diario is at least twice removed from the original, the attached translation favours the bight of Admiral Morison’s translation over the cape of Dr. Dunn’s.

The bight that Columbus describes runs twelve leagues west from the island’s north point. Long/Fortune possesses nothing like this. Moreover, this island’s coast is unapproachable owing to its shark-tooth reef. There is nothing anywhere on Long/Fortune that remotely resembles Columbus’s description of Cabo Hermoso. Finally, of the three anchorages Columbus records on Saometo/Isabela, none are possible on Long/Fortune, there being no Cabo Hermoso, no anchorage between a non-existent Cabo Hermoso and an unapproachable Cabo del Isleo, and no anchorage anywhere near its north point facing two cays.

The complete failure of this island, when seen from the sea, to match Columbus’s description invalidates all central Bahamas landfalls.

Once anchored at Landrail Point, Crooked Island, we dined at a charming eatery owned by Ms. Willie Gibson who regaled us with fresh mutton snapper, peas and rice, zucchini, and fresh salad, topped off with a generous slice of key lime pie. Miss Willie then carried us to Pitts Town Landing where (contrary to the guidebooks’ mentioning Crooked Island’s Seventh Day Adventist persuasion) liquor was served and we were treated to much joyful rake-and-scrape music by East Crooked Island’s famous Reggie and Company Band. The memory of Crooked Island gracious hospitality, full of joyfulness and kindness, will long remain with us.

After taking on fuel at Landrail Point, we intend to navigate tomorrow to Clarence Town on Long Island, seeking an opportunity to confirm the ironshore rocky weather coast of that island, thought to be Columbus’s third island by central Bahamas landfall enthusiasts.

Friday, November 14 — Day Thirteen

Departed Landrail Point, Crooked Island this morning at 10:30 AM after purchasing fuel and a loaf of Miss Willie’s excellent bread. Motor-sailed forty miles over a calm sea with faint wind directly to Clarence Town Harbour where we anchored near sundown. This course kept us too distant from Little Harbour serving the settlement of Roses to permit seeing it. Both captains aboard Destiny opined that it would be next to impossible to enter and depart it with a fifteenth-century sailing vessel. It must remain for central Bahamas landfall enthusiasts to explain how this might have been accomplished.

The Cruising Guide to the Southern Bahamas, 2009, p. 112, gives a forewarning: “Do not attempt [entering Little Harbour] in strong easterly weather or with a heavy groundswell running, . . . If a groundswell is running and you are inside Little Harbour, stay put until it abates.”

Saturday, November 15 — Day Fourteen

Up at 6 AM following wake-up raindrops striking Destiny. Topped up our fuel tanks at the brightly painted Flying Fish Marina facing the town and took a moment to visit Father Jerome’s curious church overlooking the settlement just earlier bathed in the colours of the rainbow, and commanding a splendid view of Clarence Town Harbour. Back on board we hoisted mainsail and jib and harnessed the brisk northeast wind that finally commenced to blow. On rounding Long Island we passed by the impressive cliff above which a Columbus monument is situated. Anchored in late afternoon at Calabash Bay, Long Island. Tomorrow we sail to George Town, Great Exuma and our last night with the Expedition.

Sunday, November 16 — Day Fifteen

We departed Calabash Bay on Long Island at 10:30 AM with 20 knots of wind out of the east. As we head to our final anchorage at George Town, Great Exuma, we attach our last update which consists of our conclusions from the 2014 Following Columbus Expedition.

This early November season, corresponding with Columbus’s October 12–25 navigation among the Lucayan Islands, is a season of sporadic rainy squalls and varying winds following a meteorological pattern caused by cold fronts heading southeast from the American continent. Because these fronts differ each year, it is impossible exactly to re-create Columbus’s track among the islands.

Despite this reality, we’ve succeeded in examining eight of the nine anchorages Columbus is presumed to have made according to the Grand Turk landfall theory. They are: • Guanahani/Pillory Beach, Grand Turk • Pine Cay north of Providenciales • Near the southeast point of Mayaguana • Just outside the southeast entrance to Abraham’s Bay, Mayaguana • Just southwest of the southwest cay of Hogsty Reef off to the west of Northwest Point, Great Inagua • Somewhere off the north coast of Great Inagua between its Northwest Point and its north point (caravels only, not the flagship) • Off the protected reefless shore of the north point of Great Inagua • In the shallows south of Ragged Island. (Adverse winds and the need to refuel have prevented us from verifyingthis anchorage. However, since scholarly agreement on this anchorage is practically unanimous, the necessity of visiting it is less than that of the above eight anchorages.)

Besides this, we have proved the value of the shelter of Hawk’s Nest Anchorage southeast of Grand Turk in a northwest wind. While the entire west coast of the island was pounded by the sea, we enjoyed a tranquil evening and night. This serves to vindicate Columbus’s judgement in commending it as a serviceable harbour — a judgement subsequently twice confirmed by the Royal Navy.

In 1934, the philosopher Sir Karl Popper described his falsifiability criterion. Using this criterion a scientist seeks to discover and observe an exception or contradiction to a postulated rule. Absence of refutation or contradictory evidence thereby becomes corroboration of the theory under examination. In other words, a good theory, a scientific theory is one that is susceptible of disproof, yet is not disproved.

Popper’s criterion is a Viennese restatement of John Stuart Mill’s mid-nineteenth-century thoughts on reaching certainty through science. But even this is anticipated by the Greek philosopher Epicurus around 250 BC. In a letter to his disciple Herodotus he observes: “Falsehood and error always depend upon the intrusion of opinion when a fact awaits confirmation or the absence of contradiction …”

In testing the corrected inter-island route proposed in the Grand Turk landfall theory, we have found no refutation or contradiction of it. We therefore conclude that the track we’ve examined among the islands is a corroboration.

In addition, we’ve gained firsthand sailing knowledge of the variability of the wind among the islands at this time of year. Normally, the wind here is easterly, but when a cold front reaches the islands, the wind generally clocks around the compass windrose and sometimes dies altogether. This short season is almost always accompanied with massive thunderheads, squalls, and violent rain.

It now appears possible to infer a good deal more about Columbus’s inter-island track deduced from probable wind directions based on the effects of cold fronts reaching the Southern Bahamas and Turks & Caicos Islands.

We’ve also had opportunity to examine the west coast of Long Cay/Fortune Island. We conclude that, without major alterations to the text of Columbus’s Diario, this island simply cannot serve as Samoete/Isabela, the fourth island that Columbus visited and at which he spent almost four nights. On the contrary, Great Inagua presents a natural conformation with Columbus’s various descriptions of his fourth island.

We’ve identified several likely places to search for Lucayan habitations, which may well serve the work of specialists in Lucayan archaeology.

Finally, we do not propose that the track we can now plot from Grand Turk to the Ragged Islands proves the Grand Turk landfall theory. Rather, we may now say that it corroborates a theory whose proof reposes in the evidence of the analysis of Castilian texts closely contemporary with Columbus’s epochal transatlantic landfall.

Team Columbus of the 2014 Following Columbus Expedition thanks Governor and Madame Beckingham for their encouragement, its readers for their attention, and Captain Tim Ainley for organising it.

Respectfully submitted: Dave Calvert, Captain of sailing vessel Destiny II, Josiah Marvel, Expedition Scholar, Jon Nickson, Expedition Photographer, Tim Ainley, Expedition Leader

For more information, visit www.followingcolumbus.com