Salvage
Wreckers are a thing of the past. A thing of romance and darkness along the old coasts of Cornwall in England. But the Cornish coast is not the only jagged shoreline where it would be easy to entrap ships to rob of their cargo. The Costa da Morte here in Galicia, that northwest corner where the Iberian peninsula curves south, is also a jagged coast, where need and poverty once drove a few desperate souls to wrecking. The legend says a cow's horns would be wrapped with rags dipped in fat or other combustible and lit, then the cow would be led along the coastline to confuse ships and bring them onto the rocks. Then, amidst the cries of drowning sailors and passengers, the wreckers would descend upon the remains of the ship and strip it of everything worth carting off.
True wreckers, in the worst sense of the word, have died away, but the habit of salvaging everything that could be salvaged from a wreck remained. Even in these latter days, when need is not as desperate, what the sea brings in, is fair game. Last week, a ship doing a run from Holland to Morocco, ran into trouble off this tribulated coast, and from thirty-five to forty of the containers it was carrying were swept into the sea. Some of those containers opened up and spit their contents into the sea, which in turn delivered them to shore. All along this northwestern coast merchandise has washed up, which people have taken advantage of.
From the beaches of Nemiña, to Touriñan, to Carnota, people have picked up anything from a tractor to thousands of packets of tobacco, powdered milk, printer ink, new sofas, and sheets of aluminum. Some of those will probably be in less than pristine condition, with sea water filtering in through the packaging, others will be just fine. Even the Customs helicopter has chimed in, causing one older man to mumble, "Talk to you later, perhaps," to a reporter, as he scrambled away with tobacco. Raqueros, from the English, wreckers, have resurfaced along this coast, ready to pick up whatever the sea gives to them.
This isn't the first time people have taken advantage of the sea's bad temper with others. There is a story that, I think happened in the 1920's, in which a ship lost crates of condensed milk. At that time, there was such poverty, that the residents of the fishing villages didn't recognize what the cans were, and used them to paint their houses. The flies came out in droves as soon as the sun appeared. Another time, in 1927, a ship went aground with cargo that the owners wanted to recuperate. Guards were set up on the ship. When they realized that they could not leave to get food and water to tide them over during their wait, the guards had to eat what was in the ship's stores, including champagne in crates that was part of the cargo, because the fresh water was finished. The owners didn't recuperate much.
But in modern times, people are still on the lookout for the sea's favors. After a strong storm in 2006, people along the north coast of the Costa da Morte picked up bags, stuffed animals, Chinese food, cages, shower curtains, covers for laptops, and even an entire container of printers.
This particular container washed ashore almost intact, where it broke open on the rocks. The container was emptied in record time. People who had never sat at a computer toted one home, just in case. When the sea gives a gift, you don't look it in the mouth, you just accept it.
In these softer rías, or drowned estuaries, such cargoes never appear. Here, our shorelines are more tame, and beaches of all kinds grace them. But, the beaches along the Costa da Morte are rare, and those that exist are generally rocky and savage, with waves that have travelled the entire North Atlantic to break against the cliffs, sweeping everything in their path that has lost a rudder. Life is hard there, or was until roads improved and people could buy cars. The older generations have passed on to the young people the habit of recuperating everything useful that the sea brings them in recompense. As long as ships travelling the northwest corridor lose cargo, there will be people on these shores ready to retrieve them, as has always been.
True wreckers, in the worst sense of the word, have died away, but the habit of salvaging everything that could be salvaged from a wreck remained. Even in these latter days, when need is not as desperate, what the sea brings in, is fair game. Last week, a ship doing a run from Holland to Morocco, ran into trouble off this tribulated coast, and from thirty-five to forty of the containers it was carrying were swept into the sea. Some of those containers opened up and spit their contents into the sea, which in turn delivered them to shore. All along this northwestern coast merchandise has washed up, which people have taken advantage of.
From the beaches of Nemiña, to Touriñan, to Carnota, people have picked up anything from a tractor to thousands of packets of tobacco, powdered milk, printer ink, new sofas, and sheets of aluminum. Some of those will probably be in less than pristine condition, with sea water filtering in through the packaging, others will be just fine. Even the Customs helicopter has chimed in, causing one older man to mumble, "Talk to you later, perhaps," to a reporter, as he scrambled away with tobacco. Raqueros, from the English, wreckers, have resurfaced along this coast, ready to pick up whatever the sea gives to them.
This isn't the first time people have taken advantage of the sea's bad temper with others. There is a story that, I think happened in the 1920's, in which a ship lost crates of condensed milk. At that time, there was such poverty, that the residents of the fishing villages didn't recognize what the cans were, and used them to paint their houses. The flies came out in droves as soon as the sun appeared. Another time, in 1927, a ship went aground with cargo that the owners wanted to recuperate. Guards were set up on the ship. When they realized that they could not leave to get food and water to tide them over during their wait, the guards had to eat what was in the ship's stores, including champagne in crates that was part of the cargo, because the fresh water was finished. The owners didn't recuperate much.
But in modern times, people are still on the lookout for the sea's favors. After a strong storm in 2006, people along the north coast of the Costa da Morte picked up bags, stuffed animals, Chinese food, cages, shower curtains, covers for laptops, and even an entire container of printers.
This particular container washed ashore almost intact, where it broke open on the rocks. The container was emptied in record time. People who had never sat at a computer toted one home, just in case. When the sea gives a gift, you don't look it in the mouth, you just accept it.
In these softer rías, or drowned estuaries, such cargoes never appear. Here, our shorelines are more tame, and beaches of all kinds grace them. But, the beaches along the Costa da Morte are rare, and those that exist are generally rocky and savage, with waves that have travelled the entire North Atlantic to break against the cliffs, sweeping everything in their path that has lost a rudder. Life is hard there, or was until roads improved and people could buy cars. The older generations have passed on to the young people the habit of recuperating everything useful that the sea brings them in recompense. As long as ships travelling the northwest corridor lose cargo, there will be people on these shores ready to retrieve them, as has always been.
Lovely and with your usual good writing. I admit that I furnished much of my Geneva flat, not from sea or lake salvage but from things people threw out. I could almost wish for a red rug and one would appear.
ReplyDeleteThanks! My daughter hasn't done so yet, because her apartment really has enough furnishings, but quite a few of her friends at university have also picked up tidbits from the street on trash day. One man's trash is another man's treasure.
ReplyDelete