Edward Kritzler: Jewish Pirates of the Caribbean

From the time that Santangel financed Columbus’s Enterprise of the Indies and persuaded the royal couple to grant the explorer’s family hereditary rights to any new land he might discover, Columbus sailed with a hidden agenda: Along with his stated goal of gaining the riches of the East, it was hoped he would acquire a new land where Sephardim could live free from the terrors of the Inquisition. The discoverer of the Indies didn’t rule long enough to make good his promise to provide a homeland for converted Jews, but for more than a century his heirs kept Jamaica off-limits to the hooded Inquisitors who were empowered to root out heresy in all Spanish territories. As far as Jamaica’s proprietors were concerned, as long as their “Portugals” wore a Christian mask, no one might question the sincerity of their religious beliefs. Under the protection of the island’s rulers, covert Jews came disguised as conversos from Portugal, their presence there known and approved by the Spanish Crown.

Chapter Two

ADVENTURING IN THE NEW WORLD

A t the dawn of the Age of Discovery, when Spain’s monarchs banished the Jews to purify their nation, followers of the Law of Moses sailed with the explorers and marched with the conquistadors. With the discovery and settlement of the New World, they took solace in the hope of finding a safe haven, or at least putting distance between themselves and the Inquisition. Unlike other pioneers, they had no home to return to, and as seen in the preceding chapter, they were among the first foreigners to permanently settle the New World. Going about as bona fide Christians, most carried their secret to the grave. The adventures of some who did not paint an extraordinary tableau of their time. These include a turban-wearing pilot who sailed with three of the early explorers; the first capitalist to own and market New World flora; a suspect Jew who discovered California; a conquistador who was the first Jew burned in the New World; and other Judaizers, men and women, who joined in the conquest of Mexico.

GASPAR, THE JEWISH PILOT

Outlawed in the civilized world and vulnerable in the Diaspora, Jews became skilled in ways to find and explore new lands. They were the era’s foremost mapmakers, and also perfected the nautical instruments and astronomical tables the early explorers sailed with. When Jewish expertise was needed, prejudice took a backseat to expediency, and Jewish pilots, adept at reading maps and using navigational instruments, were recruited to interpret those tables. Had they not, many an explorer would have been lost in the vast oceans, and three of the most famous—Vasco da Gama, Pedro Cabral, and Amerigo Vespucci—used the same enigmatic Jew to show them the way. 1

The story begins in 1494, when the pope, believing (as all did) that Columbus had found the western sea route to Asia, divided the world between the two contending Iberian nations by drawing a line through the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. His ruling, agreed to in the Treaty of Tordesillas, assigned all lands 370 leagues (about 1,175 miles) west of the Cape Verde islands to Spain, and all lands east to Portugal. 2Three years later, when Columbus was preparing his third voyage across the Western Sea, King Manuel of Portugal commissioned Vasco da Gama to seek the eastern route around Africa. In the event the two explorers should meet, King Ferdinand gave Columbus a letter of greeting for his rival.

Da Gama, a learned nobleman, who credited his “Hebrew tutor” for teaching him navigation, mathematics, and astronomy, left Lisbon in July 1497 in command of four ships and 170 men. Two years later (in September 1499), he returned with two ships, fifty men, and a few spices to show for his effort. If not for his fortuitous encounter with the Jewish pilot, he might not have returned at all. But thanks to him, Portugal beat Spain in the race for India’s riches, and monopolized the lucrative spice trade.

Approaching the subcontinent, da Gama had stopped at a small island off the coast of Calicut to careen and clean his ships when a small boat approached. In its bow stood a tall, bearded white man, richly dressed in Eastern attire. Calling to them in Spanish, the stranger asked to speak to the captain. Welcomed aboard the flagship, he introduced himself as Moncaide, the harbormaster of Calicut, and explained that his lord, Rajah Samorin, having heard of the “military valor and nautical knowledge of the Portuguese,” had sent him to welcome the foreigners. 3

Da Gama, whose voyage thus far had been marred by attacks along the East African coast, suspected a trap and ordered his men to seize Moncaide’s attendants, who immediately confessed their leader’s duplicity. Far from being the harbormaster, they said, Moncaide commanded the ruler’s navy, and if he perceived the visitors as a threat was to signal four warships, lying in wait, to attack. Da Gama held Moncaide and ordered him to confess or “be boiled in fat and whipped until he died.” 4Admitting his deceit, he agreed to pilot da Gama’s ships to port and present him to Samorin. Although Moncaide now claimed to be a New Christian forced to become a Moor, da Gama, writing in his journal, described him as a “renegade Jew” and noted that though his hair and beard were gray, he looked to be about forty.

Samorin was ready to trade with the strangers, but was put off when da Gama offered cheap trinkets in exchange for priceless jewels. Insulted, Samorin sent them away. The two would meet again, but the initial impression persisted and their enmity escalated to hostage-taking on both sides. Eventually da Gama was allowed to depart with a small quantity of spices and jewels bartered from local merchants. Moncaide, meanwhile, having aroused his enemies at court by aiding the foreigners, gladly accepted da Gama’s invitation to return with him to Portugal.

Back in Lisbon, Moncaide dropped all pretense. He now claimed to be Alonso Pérez, a Spanish Jew from Castille, and said he wished to be baptized and serve his new host country. With da Gama acting as his godfather, Moncaide took the explorer’s name, and was christened Gaspar da Gama. Although he was made a cavalier by King Manuel, who regularly conversed with him about lands he had visited, the king always referred to his new court favorite as “Gaspar, the Jewish pilot.”

Manuel, not knowing that Columbus was sailing in circles in a far-off sea, thought Portugal was still in a race with Spain for the riches of Asia and asked the worn-out explorer to go again. But da Gama, newly married and not inclined to set off on such an arduous trip, recommended in his stead Pedro Cabral, a young nobleman and member of the court. Cabral had never been to sea, but he had a commanding presence and was trusted by the king. Given his inexperience, however, the king ordered Cabral to take the Jewish pilot and “follow his counsels in all and every matter.” The king also ordered his talented converso physician, Mestre João, expert at calibrating Zacuto’s improved astrolabe, to go with the fleet and chart the expedition. 5

In March 1500, Cabral set off with thirteen ships, loaded this time with better trade goods than those da Gama had tried to palm off. As the fleet sailed past the Cape Verde Islands and approached the Gulf of Guinea, where the continent narrows abruptly to the east, Gaspar had Cabral stay west of the gulf to avoid getting stuck in its becalmed waters. But when it was time for the fleet to sail east to round the horn of Africa, the winds and currents in the South Atlantic drove them further to the west until one morning a lookout shouted Terra! Cabral had reached the eastern shore of South America.