AYALA: The Coast of Spanish California

Below is the Introductory Chapter of the new book, by Bradley Angle, titled “AYALA.” The book contains the first English translation of the full Log of the San Carlos, created by its Captain, Juan de Ayala. The book also contains two chapters from “Navegacion especulativa, y practica,” by José González Cabrera Bueno.

You can acquire the book through Barnes and Noble or Amazon HERE.

Introduction

Richard Henry Dana
Two Years Before the Mast (excerpt)
1840

Our place of destination had been Monterey, but as we were to the northward of it when the wind hauled a-head, we made a fair wind for San Francisco. This large bay, which lies in latitude 37° 58′, was discovered by Sir Francis Drake, and by him represented to be (as indeed it is) a magnificent bay, containing several good harbors, great depth of water, and surrounded by a fertile and finely wooded country. About thirty miles from the mouth of the bay, and on the south-east side, is a high point, upon which the presidio is built. Behind this, is the harbor in which trading vessels anchor, and near it, the mission of San Francisco, and a newly begun settlement, mostly of Yankee Californians, called Yerba Buena, which promises well. Here, at anchor, and the only vessel, was a brig under Russian colors, from Asitka, in Russian America, which had come down to winter, and to take in a supply of tallow and grain, great quantities of which latter article are raised in the missions at the head of the bay.

Dana’s description of the entrance and history of San Francisco Bay is incorrect by modern cartography. However, the Spanish Naval Officer Juan de Ayala would have understood it clearly, for the most part. Dana labels the roadstead between Año Nuevo and Point Reyes as San Francisco Bay, and he places the mouth of the Bay near Point Reyes – this may muddy a modern reading, though Ayala would have comprehended it. Dana then asserts that Drake first discovered the SF Bay – which is a claim obfuscated by the way he defines San Francisco Bay.  Of course, Ayala would never give an English pirate credit for any discovery. Ayala may have been disturbed by mention of Russians – he was ordered there on a ship prepared to use force to dispel those people. As for “Yankees,” they were not a threat yet. As Ayala sailed the San Carlos into the Bay for the first time, America’s Declaration of Independence was still two years away. Using Dana’s portrait of San Francisco here is useful for two reasons: 1) it clears away the modern labels of the Californian Coast, and 2) it shows us the outcomes of the Spanish efforts in California. Ayala’s descriptor, found at the end of this book, is raw, and it shows clearly the energy level Spain reserved to manage the Pacific frontier. Through the contrasts between the founding expeditionaries and those who followed, we can best fathom the Spanish presence on the California Coast.

Understanding the details of Juan de Ayala’s life, specifically his Naval career and training, requires a foundational knowledge of Spain’s historical maritime and colonial endeavors. Likewise, to best interpret Spanish moves on the Pacific Coast, and their exertions north of Sonora and Baja, researchers need a global lens and a domestic one. Not much accessible and accurate information exists about the Spanish in California. Works on the Missions and Junipero Serra are perhaps the most widely available. A few academic journals and magazines discuss the Spanish. San Diego teaches the Cabrillo story relatively well, which probably isn’t good enough.  And the National Parks Service, in San Francisco, just barely acknowledges mariners in California prior to the Argonauts. Locals, tourists and history buffs get such a small dosage of Spanish California without digging for it, this book must begin with a comprehensive review of that foundational history to best understand the decisions made by Ayala and his colleagues.

 By the San Francisco Maritime Museum, tens of millions of tourists annually take in the views of Alcatraz, of the Golden Gate Bridge, of Aquatic Park and the Hyde Street Pier. Guided by seasonal bus-driver-tour-guides, the flocks of camera-wearers pour through the overly commercialized piers and shopping centers, they stand in line at ticket booths for Bay-Bridge-Audio-Boat-Tours.  Day in and day out they come, they eat clam chowder, and they don’t notice, or barely notice, the single little plague that’s mounted to an out-of-place boulder near Beach Street, on the National Park’s lawn. That’s one of two plagues acknowledging the arrival of the first European Ship in the San Francisco Bay. The same tourists walk through the citadel of Alcatraz with audio tour headphones, and within seconds the name “Ayala” is said and disappears, rarely noticed. Five miles north, on Angel Island, another tour is given on a shuttle which drives too fast around the 8-mile island perimeter, and “Ayala” is again cited. A plaque on a serpentinite boulder there, the second one previously mentioned, tells a bit more about “Ayala,” that he was the first to ever sail into the Bay and that he anchored the ship San Carlos there in that cove in 1775. Very few other mentions of Juan de Ayala exist. You could ask a local about the Spanish history here, and they’d repeat a few lines about de Anza, the Bear Flag Rebellion, or the Gold Rush. When you probe this same demographic to explain Fort Ross, Hezeta, or Chinese Porcelain on California beaches, disinterest is expressed in various ways. Other than place names, like Portola Hill, Ayala Cove, Lake Anza, Bodega Bay, the characters of the later part of the 18th century, during California’s modern founding, are lost in a hodgepodge of mischaracterization and tedium. But California prior to the gold rush includes some of the most exciting ventures of exploration, industry, social experimentation, individual ingenuity and determination unparalleled in our history. To be certain, prior to the 19th century, the Pacific Northwest, starting with northern California and through to Alaska, was the last frontier on the globe. Europeans, Americans and Asians alike fantasized about the potential of settling this region, exploiting its resources, and utilizing its location for commerce and expansive defensive strategies. The story of how that unfolded is here before you.

 Part 1 of this book covers European’s addiction to luxury goods from the orient, and their goals to circumvent the Ottoman Empire’s monopoly on trade routes. It moves through Portuguese maritime advances, the competitive Spanish, and the successful establishment of a global maritime. A chapter on Manila galleons follows a review of Spanish conquistadors. Early California coastal explorers are reviewed in detail, followed by the condition of early California through the Spanish lens. Overall, Part 1 gives the background of Spain’s reasons for being in the Pacific.

Part 2 examines how and why Alta California became a priority for the Spanish crown. It discusses the leadership of New Spain, who organized the first settlement expeditions. It reviews the cost and benefits of shipping and land routes. A never-before translated version of the 1740s Cabrera Bueno Navigation Manual has its home in Appendix of this book. And the famous Portola Expedition is examined in detail, including the disasters experienced by all three ships of that expedition.

In Part 3, we look into the Spanish outposts prior to Ayala’s arrival. The Russian threat is reviewed and filed away for three decades. Bucareli, Crespi, Fages, Rivera and the lowly pilots Perez and Cañizares are all inspected for their roles. And the Franciscan Missions and Junipero Serra are analyzed. Part 3 is concluded with the first Bucareli Expedition of 1774, and a review of Perez’s successes and failures at its completion.

The last Part of the book shows us Ayala in full, and Spain’s decision to send six well rounded and highly experienced officers to San Blas to head the Naval Department there. The Manrique, Hezeta and Ayala Expeditions are each discussed separately, and as a comprehensive Spanish mechanism to once-and-for-all lay claim to the Pacific Northwest coastline. The book concludes with the failures of Spain, the success of Ayala, and the painful and early end of an obscure Spanish Naval Officer.

 Above all, this is a guidebook to complement an active and engaged curiosity of the California Coast. One cannot drive Highway 1, hike a sandy spit, or climb rusty lighthouse stairs in California without witnessing the legacy of Spanish mariners. From bluffs to promontories, the California Coast was a complicated asset for the Spanish Crown. It was mysterious and disinteresting. It was available and taken. It was seen as a strategic position for defense and safe harbor, yet as a threatening lee shore problematically populated. The sailors who marinated the California Coast, prior to and after Juan de Ayala’s presence, were necessarily a hardy and resilient class. Their voyages – failures and feats – established the local knowledge needed for the tremendous growth of three of the world’s most economically significant ports. In all of this, Ayala was not an arbitrary figure who filled a role anyone could have filled. His skills, labors and command capabilities allowed Spain to move its plans forward with minimal investment and oversight, mapping a channel for all of Spain’s will and might to follow.