Columbus's Fourth Voyage (1502-1504)

On 9 May 1502, his hair already grey with age and his body marked by illness, Christopher Columbus climbed onto the bridge of his flagship, La Capitana. Beside him, his son Hernando, barely 13 years old, watched him with admiration and a little fear. He knew this would be no ordinary voyage. His father was no longer the hero of old, but a discredited navigator with enemies at court and an express ban from the Monarchs on setting foot on Hispaniola.

But Columbus did not give up. He still dreamed of finding the secret passage to the Indian Ocean, the route that would redeem him and restore his lost prestige.

He set sail from Cádiz with four caravels and 150 men. Before heading out into the Atlantic, news altered his course: the Moors were besieging Asilah, in Morocco. He decided to go to the town's aid, but by the time they arrived the siege had already been lifted. From there the fleet made for the Canary Islands, where they took on provisions before launching out into the endless ocean.

An omen at sea

The first weeks of the crossing were calm, until the sky turned dark. The clouds swirled into a menacing vortex and the wind began to howl like an invisible beast. Columbus, with his experience of the tropics, knew at once what it meant: a hurricane was coming.

He changed course for Santo Domingo, but on arrival he was turned away by the governor, Nicolás de Ovando, who looked at him with contempt and mocked his warning. "Leave us in peace with your omens, Admiral!" he said, with a grimace of annoyance.

Ovando allowed a fleet of 28 ships to set sail for Spain. Columbus watched helplessly as those vessels disappeared over the horizon, heading straight into the fury of the ocean.

The storm arrived that same night. The raging sea swallowed Ovando's fleet. Francisco de Bobadilla, the man who had put Columbus in chains on his third voyage, vanished into the depths along with Francisco Roldán and hundreds of sailors.

Columbus, sheltering in a natural harbour, saw his fleet withstand the onslaught of the waves. When the storm cleared, the horizon was strewn with floating timbers and bodies. Some whispered that it was nothing other than the hand of God dispensing justice.

Adrift in unknown lands

Columbus continued his voyage, exploring the coasts of Honduras, Nicaragua and Costa Rica. On Guanaja he had a strange encounter with natives carrying gold and goods from distant lands. He became convinced he was close to Asia.

As they advanced, the weather turned hostile. Unexpected storms battered the ships, and the currents dragged them along as if the sea were toying with them. On 12 September they reached a cape he named Gracias a Dios ("Thanks be to God"), because there they finally found calm waters.

Columbus was ill. Gout was eating away at his joints and every step was torture. Even so, he ordered the exploration to continue. In Veragua, the natives spoke of great gold mines deep in the jungle. It was the chance to prove that his expedition had not been in vain.

The betrayal of Veragua

In January 1503 they founded a settlement on the banks of the Belén River. They left 80 men there under the command of Bartholomew Columbus and, when the weather allowed, Columbus set off in search of favourable winds to return to Castile.

But the presence of the Spaniards troubled the natives, who, led by the cacique Quibián, attacked the settlement. The survivors fled to the ships in a desperate struggle of arrows against swords.

Columbus realised he could not hold that outpost. They sailed away in retreat, their bodies wounded and their spirits broken.

The final disaster: shipwrecked in Jamaica

The ships were in ruins. The sea had battered them mercilessly, storms had opened cracks in their hulls and shipworms were devouring the timber.

On 24 June 1503, with no other choice, they ran aground in Jamaica. The Admiral ordered huts to be built on the decks to stop the men from deserting. They depended on the natives to survive, trading glass beads and knives for food.

But time passed and no rescue came. The men grew restless. Soon a group led by Francisco Porras mutinied and seized the canoes to escape.

Columbus, weakened by illness and with no resources other than his wits, devised a plan. He consulted his astronomical tables and saw that a lunar eclipse was due on 29 February 1504.

He summoned the natives and told them that, if they stopped helping the castaways, the gods would darken the moon as a sign of their fury. When the eclipse came, the terrified natives begged for forgiveness and offered him more food.

Meanwhile, Diego Méndez and Bartolomé de Fiesco, after a perilous canoe crossing, managed to reach Hispaniola to ask for help.

Home again: a defeated man

On 28 June 1504, after a year of suffering in Jamaica, rescue finally arrived. The men were gaunt and sick.

Columbus landed in Santo Domingo on 13 August. Nicolás de Ovando treated him coldly and paid him no honours.

On 12 September he left for Spain. He sailed in silence, watching the sea that had been both his home and his downfall.

On 7 November 1504 he reached Sanlúcar de Barrameda. It was the end of his last voyage. The court no longer received him with rejoicing. Isabella the Catholic had died, and with her, his last support.

Columbus spent his final days in Valladolid, writing letters to the Crown claiming what had been taken from him. He died on 20 May 1506, without knowing that he had not reached Asia, but a new world.

And so the man who had opened the paths of the ocean ended his life in the shadows. But his legacy, like the waves, would never stop.