How Cozumel Saved The World

(According To Spain, At Least)

By W. J. Mencarow

Each year some 17 billion tourists arrive in Cozumel.

OK, I made that up, but whatever it is it’s higher than any of us can count, so it
might as well be 17 billion or 17 trillion for all I know. Just try getting a taxi any day
when the cruise ships are in town and you will think I’ve underestimated the number.

Yet few of these intrepid explorers, whether they come by cruise ship for a day or
charter flight for a week, realize they are trodding the same ground that once shook under
the feet of fierce Mayan warriors, the very ground that soaked up the blood of human
sacrifices to the goddess Ixchel, that witnessed the likes of Conquistador Hernán (or
Hernando) Cortéz and infamous pirates such as Henry Morgan and Jean Laffite. Even
some Cozumeleños will admit they need to brush up on their history once in awhile.

So let’s take a mental journey down the dim corridors of time, back to a simpler
age on what used to be known as An'-Cuzamil-Peten, Mayan for the Land of the
Swallows. Yes, there actually was a time before the first cruise ship, before the first
jewelry store, the first timeshare salesman...there is even a rumor that once upon a time
there was no Carlos n’ Charlie’s, although nobody really believes that. In fact, I suspect it
was because of Carlos n’ Charlie’s that the Mayans named Cozumel the “Land of the Swallows.”

Scholars date the habitation of Cozumel from approximately 300 A.D., although a
much earlier date is certainly possible. Almost nothing is known of the first 500 years of
this period. The oldest ruins, dating from about 800 A.D., are shrines to Ixchel (left), the
goddess of the moon, the sea and fertility (I don’t want to say she was a dog, more like
the whole kennel, but the fact that she could become the goddess of fertility with a face
like that gives hope to every woman). She is portrayed with a snake as a
head-band and her skirt is embroidered with crossbones. Hey, fashion trends change.
She was considered hot back in the day.

Every year, young, nubile Mayan women made pilgrimages to Cozumel to
participate in the rites of the Ixchel fertility cult. Later this became known as Spring
Break.

The first Europeans known to have visited Cozumel were Captain Enciso y
Valdivia and about 11 others (including two women) who survived the wreck of their ship
south of Jamaica. After drifting for about two weeks and losing at least seven of the
original 18 to dehydration and starvation they made it to the eastern shore of Cozumel in
1511. They were overjoyed when their Mayan hosts said that their only desire was to
serve them.

Unfortunately, the Mayans meant for dinner.

Valdivia and four others were sacrificed to Ixchel and served with fava beans and a
nice glass of Mayan chianti. The rest were put in cages to fatten them up for a future
feast, but, party-poopers that they were, they escaped.

Unlike their descendants, the early Mayans had a lot to learn about encouraging
the tourist trade.

Most of the survivors of the Valdivia massacre soon died. Only two remained:
Jeronimo de Aguilar and Gonzalo Guerrero. They escaped to the mainland before they
could be the main course, went their separate ways and were promptly enslaved by a
couple of local Mayan warlords. And you think you have a tough life.

A few years later, while Aguilar and Guererro were still guests of the warlords,
Cozumel witnessed the arrival of the first white men since the ill-fated Valdivia party.
Juan de Grijalva and his crew were blown off course on May 3, 1518 in their search for
gold. This time the Mayans hid from the tourists (they still didn’t get it), and both they
and the gold remained elusive, so Grijalva moved on to what he hoped would be more
golden pastures.

Grijalva is known as the “discoverer” of Cozumel — one wonders what the
ancient Mayans, and before them, the Olmecs, would have thought of that — basically
because he lived to tell about it. By all rights the honor should go to the martyr Valdivia.
But it is the survivors who write the history books.

Meanwhile, Guerrero converted to the Mayan religion, married the daughter of his
master, had three children by her and became a cacique, or warlord. He even advised his
Mayan father-in-law how to fight Francisco Fernández de Córdoba and led the native
people in several battles against the Spanish. Aguilar, who had studied for the Catholic
priesthood, remained loyal to Spain throughout his eight years of slavery. When Cortez
heard of his plight he sent a few green glass beads to Aguilar’s master as ransom. Granted
his freedom, Aguilar hurried to meet the Conquistador who had recently taken over
Cozumel with 11 ships and 750 men.

However, before joining Cortéz, Aguilar made a quick side trip to Tulum to visit
his former shipmate Guerrero and invite him “home.” By then Gurrerro no longer
regarded himself as a Spaniard but as a Mayan, and he had a tattooed face, rings in his
ears, a gold bar in his nose and a large chunk of jade in his lip to prove it. While he was
cordial to his old friend, he vowed to stay and fight the Spanish side-by-side with his
adopted people.

Aguilar then joined Cortez in Cozumel and became one of his most trusted
interpreters, guides and advisors. In fact, he is credited by historians as critical to the
success of the Spanish conquest of Mexico and Central America.

So, if it weren’t for this little island, Captain Valdivia and his crew, including
Jeronimo de Aguilar, might never have been heard from again. Instead, their bumping into
Cozumel changed the course of world history.

Next month: The Pirates Arrive, And Not In Party Boats


W. J. Mencarow first heard of Cozumel in the early 1970s when a very attractive
girl invited him to join her there to scuba dive. He turned her down ("what was I thinking??").
He has since been making up for lost time.

Copyright 2009 W. J. Mencarow