Of Shipwrecks and Spanish Treasure by Doug Alderson
Excerpt from Discovering Florida’s Coast by Doug Alderson, published by Pineapple Press in 2023
Of Shipwrecks and Spanish Treasure
“The sun disappeared and the wind increased in velocity coming from the east and east northeast. The seas became very giant in size, the wind continued blowing us toward shore, pushing us into shallow water. It soon happened that we were unable to use any sail at all…and we were at the mercy of the wind and water, always driven closer to shore. Having then lost all of our masts, all of the ships were wrecked on the shore, and with the exception of mine, broke to pieces.”
Miguel de Lima, owner of the Spanish ship Urca de Lima which sunk near present-day Fort Pierce in 1715
Florida’s reefs were never kind to early sailing ships. Wreckages literally line Florida’s east coast, especially southeast Florida because the Gulf Stream lies closer to land than in any other part of North America.
The most famous shipwreck was a Spanish fleet laden with gold and silver from Mexico and Peru in the vicinity of Sebastian Inlet in 1715. It was called the Plate Fleet since it carried large quantities of silver, plata being the Spanish word for silver.
The flotilla numbered 12 ships and they left Havana with great fanfare on July 24th—flags flying, crowds cheering, anchors being hoisted and sails unfurling. Soon, the great fleet, bedecked with colorful banana and plantain stalks and hampers of fresh coconuts, oranges and limes, began moving out of the harbor. Below deck, the ships were loaded down with cargo and 14 million pesos worth of the king’s treasure along with chests of private wealth.
As the ships moved out of the harbor, their passengers waving last farewells, drums rolled from Morro Castle high above the water. A black-robed archbishop blessed the fleet. Then, the castle’s cannons roared twelve times and the ships answered in kind. Spain had become increasingly dependent upon gold and silver from the New World to meet its needs, and so the safe passage of each treasure fleet was vitally important for the ambitious country. With good fortune, the fleet would reach Seville within two months.
The first part of their journey was uneventful with favorable winds and seas, but as the fleet neared Florida, ominous clouds in the south and southeast were seen. Swells slowly increased and the midday sky took on a milky haze. Some mariners used clear vials off shark oil as a weather forecaster. They would turn cloudy with the approach of a bad storm, and surely the vials must have turned cloudy on this day. Also, seasoned sailors likely complained of sore joints, another indicator of foul weather.
Soon, stinging squalls struck the fleet, the ships rocking violently from side to side, threatening to send sailors into churning waters. All who were aboard were frightened, miserable, and praying for their lives. Giant waves began crashing over decks. Sails shredded, and masts broke and shattered. Crews frantically tried to untangle rigging and lighten loads to avoid the shoals they knew were nearby, but one by one, ships were smashed onto the southeast Florida reefs by the hurricane’s fury. Eleven ships, 14 million pesos and 700 people were claimed by the sea. Only one ship, a captured French frigate, escaped the storm’s wrath because it had sailed far ahead of the fleet, its crew not even aware that a hurricane was nearby.
For a 30-mile stretch of beach, from present-day Cape Canaveral to Fort Pierce, bodies and wreckage were strewn across the water line. The 1500 survivors, some badly injured, ended up in several different groups. Fires were built, bodies were buried, boxes and barrels were dragged above the tide line, and people worried about hostile Ais Indians. But it was some of the lower-class passengers and seamen who posed the biggest threat. Looting of bodies and unclaimed personal belongings became commonplace, there being few authoritative figures with useable weapons to enforce order.
Eventually, the survivor camps merged closer together for safety reasons. Crude shelters were built, people began to fish, harvest shellfish and other marine life, and snare animals. Since it was summer, biting bugs plagued the group and those normally accustomed to an upper crust existence were nearly driven mad. Some died from exposure to the elements. Fortunately for the group, three large launch boats were salvaged from the ships. Two were to be outfitted with mostly women, children and the injured and sail to St. Augustine, about 120 miles to the north, but some of the looters tried to bribe their way onto the boats. Rebuffed, they set out for St. Augustine on foot with their new-found wealth.
The commander of the survivors, Admiral Salmon, sent two letters to the Spanish governor in St. Augustine with the boats. One letter discreetly addressed the looter group: “I wish to communicate to you, in confidence, after having sent to you another letter with the pilot, that my men have revolted and are leaving this camp for your garrison heavily loaded with the silver they have stolen. Please, have them arrested and deprived of what they have unlawfully taken.” The largest launch boat sailed back toward Havana in hopes that a salvage party could be organized and the treasure recovered. Many persons of high rank and wealth were on board, thereby escaping the hardships of the castaway camps.
When the first longboat and Admiral Salmon’s dispatches reached Governor Orioles in St. Augustine, the governor immediately prohibited any person from leaving the city without a permit and ordered all boats to be guarded to prevent unauthorized persons from going after the king’s treasure. He also ordered the shipwrecked looters, who would soon arrive on foot, to be intercepted and stripped of their ill-gotten gains. And even though drought had limited food production around St. Augustine, supplies were quickly sent to shipwreck survivors at the beach camps. Ais Indians also began to help, to the surprise of many, constructing thatched huts and teaching survivors how to eat cabbage palms, sea grapes and palmetto berries, and to sun dry and smoke meat.
Seven ships sailed from Havana to rescue the castaways and especially, the treasure. Included in the group were 30 free divers, some of whom were coastal Indian pearl divers from South America. By mid-September, the shipwreck survivors were returned to Havana, but the long and dangerous treasure salvaging had only begun. Divers dove down with ropes in churning, murky water to tie around treasure chests to be hoisted up. Several perished in the process, but within a few months, most of the king’s treasure was recovered and brought to shore. Still, all was not safe. Word of the lost treasure fleet had spread on the high seas, and the lure of lightly guarded gold and silver was irresistible as it had been for millennia. Some salvage ships were intercepted by pirates on their return to Havana. And much of the private wealth from the treasure ships—thousands of silver and gold coins—still lay on the ocean’s bottom, to be found bit by bit by twentieth century beach goers and in larger troves by more sophisticated treasure hunters. The McLarty Treasure Museum in Sebastian Inlet State Park recounts the story.
No wonder this part of Florida’s shore has become known as the Treasure Coast.