For most of Human history, the easiest
way to travel and to trade large amounts of goods was by sea. Ships
helped people move swiftly and cheaply across distances that horses,
oxen or other beasts of burden could not match in speed. Rota, having
a natural harbour, is no exception. During the Middle Ages sailors
from Rota where a common sight in the waters from the Cape of Saint
Vincent in Portugal to Gibraltar, and even on the African coast as
far south as Casablanca. These seamen dedicated themselves to fishing
and trading, exporting Rota's agricultural products; although it was
not uncommon for these vessels to prey on other shipping as either
pirates or privateers. There are even records of a Rota mayor
organising a private campaign to raid Morocco's coast in the XV
century, in search of loot, slaves and to free enslaved Christians.
However, today we are not going to
tell tales of pirates and slave-ships. Rather we will be discovering
the unsung stories of the vessels that linked Rota and Cádiz before
roads, trucks and cars eased communications across the Bay.
The earliest record we have of vessels
trading between Rota and Cádiz can be found in the Church archives,
which point out that the 30th of August, 1741 a ship of a
certain Juan Laínez put out to sea at daybreak loaded with
agricultural products and thirty-four passengers... sadly, she went
down because of the unpredictable winds and only twelve people made
in back to port. However, most of the elders in Rota remember from
their youth another, luckier, vessel el barco de la hora, that
is: the hour-ship.
 |
| VIewof Rota in the early XX century. In the foreground, a falucho |
El barco de a hora was a
falucho, a miniature galley with a single lateen sail
displacing about 100 metric tones and able to carry about sixty
people. Faluchos were widely used in most of Spain's coastline for
most civilian tasks imaginable and even as coast guards. These sturdy
and reliable ships could sail the six nautical miles to Cádiz in
about an hour, hence the name; although this time would depend on the
weather and the tides.
The falucho would ship out at about
nine in the morning, and the fare for passengers in the 1940's was of
5 pesetas. In today's money that is just €0'03, but consider that
the daily wages at the time were usually under 15 pesetas! There was
also a cargo ship, aptly named barco de la carga; that one
usually put out at midday and could hold about sixty tonnes of cargo.
Many faluchos served as barco de la
hora or de la carga over the years, and many names are
remembered by those that sailed to Cádiz for business or pleasure:
Isabel, Abanico, Sapo, Margarita...
During the 1940's the Government
dedicated itself to building modern roads, which made overland travel
easier and faster than sailing for the first time in Rota's history.
The cargo ship went out of use in the early 50's, and the barco de
la hora followed suit, making the 21th of September,
1957, its final voyage. From then on, it would be roads and railways
that would link Rota and Cádiz.
 |
| View of Rota in the early 1990's. The abandoned hovercraft can be seen on the beach. |
It was not until 1989 that someone
tried to put a remedy to this situation with a modern ship, a
Hovercraft. The ship's maiden voyage to Cádiz was the 22th of
November, full of politicians. One of these politicians had had the
brilliant idea of getting an old and worn out ship, which meant that
the return trip from Cádiz would also be its last. The hovercraft
was left to rot in El Rompidillo beach for a few years until it
became clear that it was useful only as scrap.
In the late 90's a new attempt was
made to establish a passenger line with the hydrofoil Astaroth. I
remember going to and from Cádiz as a child on it the summer of
1996... but winter came, tourists stopped using it and the company
stopped operations.
In 2006 the public sector stepped in.
Rota's sea communications with Cádiz were considered a must-have and
so the “Consorcio de Tranportes Bahía de Cádiz”, the same
public company that manages the coaches linking up all the towns on
the Bay, began operating a catamaran for passengers for four daily
trips. Tickets cost €5'10, although with the travel card the price
is reduced to €3'80, the trip takes under 40 minutes.
 |
| Today's camaran linking Rota to Cádiz y Rota's harbour. |
Just last Tuesday I took the “cat”
to Cádiz to visit a museum and spend the morning there, and I can
swear it is worthwhile. It is worthwhile because Cádiz is one of
those cities that seem to be designed to be sailed into, not driven
into. Just like Lisbon, Venice, Rio de Janeiro or New York, Cádiz is
a city that is unremarkable when one drives there overland, but that
welcomes sailors with open arms.
The shoals surrounding the island-city
force ships to sail around the city walls at a short distance from
land, instead of taking the fastest route to the harbour; which gives
you more time to contemplate the parks by the sea, the castles and
batteries defending the walls, the churches and their bell towers
where monks and laymen would thank God for every ship arriving safely
to port... And once inside the harbour, Cádiz' three most
significant monuments -the Cathedral, the City Hall and the monument
to the Constitution of 1812- face the traveller as his little
catamaran struggles to find docking space amongst the cargo ships and
the massive ocean liners.
 |
| View of Cádiz harbour from the sea. Ocean liners block the view of the cathedral |
There is no need to trouble one's head
finding parking space. No time to waste trying to find your way. The
catamaran just leaves you at Plaza de Sevilla, across the street from
the City Hall where you can simply let the flow take you effortlessly
to the Cathedral and allow yourself to get lost in the oldest city of
the West. But one is never truly lost for long in Cádiz, the sea surrounds the city with a loving embrace, so if you can't find your way simply walk in a strait line and the sea will guide you back wherever you wish. As the poet from El Puerto de Santamaría, Rafael Alberti, put it in his book“Marinero en tierra”:
“El mar, La mar.
El mar ¡Sólo la mar!
¿Porqué me trajiste, padre,
a la ciudad?
¿Porqué me desterraste
del mar?
En sueños, la marejada
me tira del corazón.
Me lo quisiera llevar.
Padre ¿porqué me trajiste
acá?
-Rafael Alberti
(Published in Rota Coastline the 20th of March, 2014)
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario