Pontus Cabrera
520 years ago the first person in a millenia discovered Atlantis, although admittedly he didn’t know he had found it. There is power in a century. Time is a human construct, and like all human constructs: social hierarchy, art, the afterlife, it can create a curious and powerful motivation within the species.
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When humans reach a new century there is always expectation, and advancement and push for more. A frantic desire to quickly and efficiently become better than all of history. In the year 1500 humanity’s new and exciting goal was exploration. The new technology of long ships allowed for greater exploration and wilder imagining.
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Time is a construct and so is the idea of advancement. Everything changes and everything stays the same and all that. For all that Europeans in the 1500’s may have thought they were the pinnacle of new forward thinking as they boldly went into the New World, some of their ideas were really very old. Classic some may say. Antique human stories stored in glass bottles and dusted off to be placed on the mantle. One such story: Plato’s fallen city.
Explorers were sponsored and sent out by the giants of the continent to find things: a channel to the Orient, the edge of the world, new land. Old land, maybe. Many of these explorers have since become famous. Typically the ones who made it back home. But there were those who did not, those who went out and were never heard from again. In these cases where there were no survivors there was no telling what may have been seen and found by these explorers.
In the year 1500 the Spanish ship Isabella sailed out into the unknown and never returned. The Isabella was lead by Captain Pontus Cabrera. Here is the story of how he discovered Atlantis even if no one ever made it back across the sea to tell it.
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Captain Cabrera had pointed his bow West and a little to the North across the Atlantic. He was an experienced sailor, and had exactly the disposition needed in an explorer: courage and madness in equal measure with enough loyalty to the Crown but nothing at home to lose except reputation. His life had become his mission. Whatever happened to him next at home would depend on his outcome at sea.
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Thinking he would make it home was optimistic, which Captain Cabrera was not particularly known for. Illness, crew dynamics, a limited supply of rations and only a vague idea of what lay ahead lead to a tense ship. What Cabrera was known among his men for was his experience and his temper. He maintained control of his ship through that experience and almost lost it because of his temper. Whenever the crew had enough of his anger and thought about mutiny some disaster--scurvy, a mastline breaking, a crewman going overboard– would occur and Captain Cabrera would guide the crew through disaster so efficiently that they hunkered down and took the lashing of his sharp tongue.
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After months at sea with no land in sight a young seaman on this voyage got tired of listening to the captain. Gabriel Santos was not much like Captain Cabrera. He had an unbalanced measure of courage and madness that churned and sloshed around inside him with the rocking of the ship. He was loyal to the Crown but unlike Cabrera he had someone else to be loyal to as well. This left Santos with an increasing desire to go home and the temperament to take matters into his own hands.
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What Santos did have, much like the Captain, was experience. He had seeded and nearly harvested the fruit of mutiny among the crew three times throughout their voyage. The only reason he had never plucked this fruit was that everytime he planned to sink his teeth into his plans disaster would strike and his conspirators would be filled with grateful loyalty to the Captain for another few weeks.
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Not this time. Santos was ready. His conspirators were ready. It was time to end the insanity of this journey for the new world. Who needed the new when they had a perfectly good old world? Santos planned his move for night. They would storm the Captain’s cabin and subdue him.
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“Do you truly want to murder him? What will we tell the Queen?” One of his conspirators had asked.
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“I don’t look forward to his death,” Santos answered, “this isn’t personal, but its our only way home.”
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“We could maroon him,” another said.
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Santos barked a rough laugh, “If we had found any land to do that on we wouldn’t have a problem would we?”
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The others had agreed and Santos would have gone through with his plan and turned the ship East for home.
Only that as they so often do so far at sea the winds changed that night. Literally the winds changed direction and a massive storm swallowed the Isabella. Captain Cabrera barked orders reigning in the sails and directing bailers to try and stop the flow of water. The wind screamed inside the storm, as if it was the thing in danger of being consumed. The clouds overhead swirled in anger and more than one of Santos’ conspirator’s wondered if this was some kind of punishment for their treachery. The sea was foaming and frothing at the mouth. In the darkness of the night and storm none of the sailors could see her, but they felt her cold icy touch as she leaped over the side of the ship to lash out at them, and they could all hear her hunger
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Many of the sailors had started praying to Santa Maria for salvation but the furious wind snatched their words away and they doubted it would convey their message to her. Even Captain Cabrera had to admit that his experience had reached a limit: that he had never survived a worse storm at sea.
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Isabella was a stubborn ship and bore the assault against her well. She had been built to withstand the wind and sea even in their ire. Lightning flashed across the sky. Lightening is a giant killer; it goes for the tallest thing around. In the middle of the ocean that was Isabella, and she hadn’t been built to withstand that.
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On top of everything else the crew now had to deal with the masthead being split down the middle and set on fire.
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“Put that out!” Captain Cabrera yelled.
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Easier said than done, Santos thought, but he was already reacting to the order in Cabrera’s tone and ran for one of the bailers buckets. There was another flash of light, and a massive noise. None of the crew could tell what had screamed: the sea, or the storm, or it could have been all of them together, but it was actually Isabella creaking and groaning as she was suddenly tossed onto land.
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The abrupt stop sent almost the entire crew sprawling towards the bow of the ship.
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“Oof,” Santos said as he hit the deck.
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“Get up you lot!” Captain Cabrera yelled, one of the only men to retain his feet.
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The Captain pushed his way through the crew gathered at the railing of the bow and leaned out at the world they had found. Isabella was burrowed in sand so fine it looked almost white in the sunlight. Which should have been odd to the sailors who had just been losing a battle to a storm at night, but they were all so distracted this wouldn’t occur to them. The sand led away from the sea and up to a craggy cliff face. The land beyond these cliffs was green and verdant.
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“How did we get here?” Someone croaked out, in a stunning show of how human instinct and intuition can get one close to the right mark in times of distress
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“How did we miss this?” Someone else growled in a less impressive display of how human overthinking can take one off the right path.
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“It doesn’t matter now,” Cabrera said, recovering as usual before anyone else. “Start repairs on the ship. I’m sending a group down to explore. We’ll have to wait for the stars to get a better sense of where we are. That storm must have tossed us around more than we realized. Unless you’re dying I don’t want to hear about any injuries. Now stop standing around and get to work.”
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The men started to disperse heading away from the railing. Santos remained rooted where he stood. It might have been the storm, or maybe it was that last jolt that sent him to the floor, but either way something had knocked loose that madness slurry inside of him.
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“You're wrong,” he said. No one heard him. He spoke up louder. So loud it ended up being a shout. “You’re wrong!” Everyone froze around him. Except of course Cabrera who turned around.
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“What was that?”
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“You’re wrong!” Santos yelled. “We weren’t tossed here. We didn’t crash here. It was brought here, It crashed into us.”
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Cabrera titled his head giving this suggestion consideration that others would not have. His silence was unusual. He had knifed men for smaller outbursts in the past. “Maybe,” he said finally. With a glance he sent the other men back into motion.
Cabrera approached Santos. “Lets see if you're right.”
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“Captain?”
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“You're coming on the exploratory mission.” It wasn’t an offer of peace or an explanation to Santos’ question. It was just an order.
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There were seven of them who explored the land while the rest of the crew repaired the ship.
“Do you think her majesty will be pleased?” Someone asked.
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Cabrera smiled a rare smile “I think so yes. A lot of potential in a land like this.” It was a remarkable place. Like finding Eden after so many years wandering in the waste beyond. The land was full of sweet smelling plants and food. The men made their way around the cliff face and found that it gentled and lessened. The other side of the island was flat and seemed to be a forest of green. Through the green they saw buffalo, deer and an abundance of creatures who hadn’t learned to fear the advancement of humanity.
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They continued their exploration until the sun began to set. “Head back,” the Captain ordered, “I want to be at the ship when it gets dark.”
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Santos turned to ask the Captain if his exploration had given him any clues as to how the island had come upon them and because he was turning he saw the blur of movement out of the corner of his eyes. Lightning seemed to strike the ship again. He heard a crack like the mast splitting in half, and saw a flash of light and then everything went black. All he could think was that there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. And they weren’t anywhere near the ship.
Santos woke up to his head aching. There was a dull pain in his wrists too but it was a small problem compared to his head. He must have made some sound to that effect because he felt a sharpening at the pain in his arms. Not to help or lessen his discomfort. As if to ensure it.
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“You awake Gabriel?”
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“Yes?” he lied, because it didn’t feel true.
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“Good, good. I want you to know I saw to this myself. Unlike you I do my own dirty work.”
Santos opened his eyes. Captain Cabrera was above him. He tried to sit up but found he couldn’t. His wrists were bound. He was splayed out on his back and he couldn’t move. His head was aching.
“Captain?”
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“Might as well call me by my Christain name there Gabriel. I don’t think I’m really your captain anymore. I don’t think I have been for awhile.”
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Santos thought through the pain in his head. “Pontus,” he said finally. “You know.”
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“I’ve always known!” Cabrera barked, “but you have a talent for making friends and I didn’t want to martyr you in front of a crew with divided loyalties, but they aren’t so divided anymore. We’ve found new land, which was our mission, and I’ve saved everyone from a storm. We’ll be heading home for reinforcements, and no one’s going to be in the mood to cause trouble. Except you, I imagine.”
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“Please. That’s all I wanted. To end the mission. I don’t want to cause any trouble either.”
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“Tell me Gabriel, you can be honest about it now, but weren’t you going to storm my cabin tonight and kill me?”
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Santos said nothing. He could think of nothing to say. The Captain clearly was not guessing. He knew.
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“Who told you?” He asked.
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“Oh look at that, a traitor angry at betrayal. They all did Gabriel. At one point or another they have all come to me and warned me about you.”
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There was a shout from somewhere far away carried up to them from the wind. Santos could hear the sea still.
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“Well it's time to go. Don’t look at me like that with your blue blue eyes Gabriel. Of all the places to be marooned this has got to be the best...assuming you can free yourself of course.”
“Captain! Cabrera! Pontus! Please! Please! Tie me to the mast if you have to tie me to something. I will stay there the whole journey home. Just let me go home.”
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Santos craned his head. Cabrera had titled his head and was wearing the same considering expression he had earlier. “Maybe,” he decided. His temper apparently gone, or Santos was realizing just hidden beneath the surface. “I’ll put it to a vote with the crew. If they decide to bring you along I’ll send someone along to cut you down. And then Captain Santos Cabrera made his way down the cliff.
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An hour later from where he was tied Santos saw the Isabella sail out over the ocean. He wondered in the time it would have taken Cabrera to get back to the beach and for the men to push off if they would have even had time for a vote. Maybe.
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Santos watched the ship get smaller and smaller along the horizon. He watched as the storm whirled in seemingly out of nowhere. He watched as lightning struck the Isabella, and the wind captured the sails as victory banners. He watched as the sea finally feasted on the ship and sank her.
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That is the story of how Captain Portus Cabrera found the New World, which was really part of the Old World and didn’t know it. His reputation, which was all he possessed, was lost with his ship, as no one could tell the Crown what he had discovered. No one from the Isabella ever made it home. Not even Gabriel Santos. Although... there were more than animals on that island. And among the people who had remained hidden while the explorers stomped around their land there would emerge descendants with the oddest blue eyes.
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Captain Pontus Cabrera was the first man in a millenium to find Atlantis and he never knew it. Gabriel Santos was the first man in a millenium to stay, and it's unknown if he ever found out exactly where he was or if he ever thought about it as home.
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