I must say that I am unashamedly happy for being descended from Don Manuel de Castro, shipwright (astillero) and founder of the municipality of Magallanes, Sorsogon. Why is this? Well, I have a peculiar obsession with sailing ships. Since childhood, I grew up surrounded by scale models of sailing ships in my home in UP Diliman, courtesy of my late father, modeler, and musician Jose “Joey” Joaquin Valenciano. Compared to the dozens of tanks, aircraft, and artillery models and the hundreds of unopened model kits which piled up around the house, the ships were very few – I can only clearly remember one that was actually finished and displayed (a prize-winning ancient Greek warship). But there was one other model which I can remember very well – an unfinished caravel (my father loved building these but had a habit of leaving them unfinished or unpainted), the Santa Maria, Columbus’ vessel en route to the Americas in 1492. I was about 2 or 3 years old when my father was working on this, and though he never finished it, he humorously imprinted a photo of my own face on the sails alongside a few swastika symbols. My father thought ship models were the hardest to build. “The difficulty lies in the rigging,” he would say, commenting on how the process could be very tedious and long, and I vaguely recall him recounting an experience wherein his work collapsed, and he had to re-do the whole thing.

They say one’s childhood is instrumental in shaping their later life. Maybe that is why I chose to be a musician – due to the days when, after pre-school, I would nap on the carpet and my father would offer to play jazz or Indian classical music (I always asked for the latter which was more relaxing) on the speakers. Perhaps this is also why I chose to stay in Bicol for the time being – I had always felt that there was a rich history and tradition behind the place that was begging to be told and shared with the wider community outside.

When I was 9 years old, I got addicted to old-school historical role-playing and real-time strategy video games. This was when my interest in history began. I received a copy of “Pirates of the Caribbean”, a 2003 PC Russian-developed PC game, then quite a novelty. The game itself had little to do with Disney’s famous ride and film franchise of the same name, but it was instrumental in shaping my consciousness at the time. While I was familiar with “Red Baron 3D” – a flight simulator with detailed and accurate depictions of World War 1 aerial combat – naval combat in the Age of Sail would be introduced to me in this game. I would memorize the different types of ships, how powerful each was, how sailing worked, the dangers of piracy, and the brutality of walking the plank. And all of these were but a virtual depiction of a normal day’s work in the life of a Bicolano sailor!

Thus, it came as a pleasant surprise to me when I was told that the founder of my (maternal) ancestral hometown was himself a shipbuilder. From what I had gathered, Don Manuel improved the living conditions of the workers at Bagatao Island (now called Parola). This island, while largely unknown to most history enthusiasts, played a key role in the enrichment of the Empire of Spain. Most people know how wealthy and powerful Spain was in the past centuries, but few know how all that wealth came to be. The fact of the matter is that Bicolano hands – in particular, the natives of Bagatao – were what supplied Spain with such prosperity. 

Although the Bagatao astillero or shipyard – the largest in all of Bikol (Banzuela 2014) – saw the creation of numerous vessels, two stand out as the most notable. These were the galleons Santo Cristo de Burgos and Santísima Trinidad y Nuestra Señora del Buen Fin. Both were tasked to carry riches gathered through trade all over the world at the time to the Spanish Empire, but both failed in this task.

The former aforementioned vessel, Santo Cristo de Burgos, is known today by archaeologists as the “Beeswax Wreck”, a famous shipwreck in Oregon Coast, USA. This particular wreck is well-known to the Native American inhabitants of the area, having been preserved in their local folklore. According to their stories, a massive galleon was blown ashore centuries ago carrying loads of beeswax and Chinese porcelain. Allegedly, the survivors mistreated the natives’ wives and so they ended up murdered at the hands of the locals. The story was written down by Silas B. Smith, a descendant of the local chieftain, in 1899; “Sometime ago, before the coming of the whites, a vessel was driven ashore in the vicinity of where the beeswax is now found….The vessel became a wreck, but all or most of her crew survived….The crew…remained there with the natives several months, when by concerted action the Indian massacred [sic] the entire number, on account, as they claimed, that the whites disregarded their—the natives’—marital relations. The Indians also state in connection with the massacre, that the crew fought with slung shots [sic]. It would appear from this that the [survivors] had lost their arms and ammunition.” 

The wreck had been the target of both treasure hunters and archaeologists for centuries. Beeswax and Chinese porcelain were the main trade ingredients of the Manila galleons – the former being used for candles in Spain’s cathedrals, and these were both plentiful in the wreck. Furthermore, both Spanish symbols and native Philippine bees’ wings trapped in the wax were found, strengthening the theory that the wreck belonged to a Manila galleon. Since the Santo Cristo de Burgos was reported missing around the time the wreck occurred (in the late 17th C.), archaeologists hold that it indeed belonged to this particular vessel, which itself was constructed in the Real Astillero de Bagatao in the then-sitio of Parina (Magallanes’ former name). Just last June 2022, a piece of timber was recovered from the remains of the ship.

The other ship of note was the Santísima Trinidad y Nuestra Señora del Buen Fin. The vessel – not to be confused with the more famous Santísima Trinidad which fought in the Battle of Trafalgar half a century later – is thought to be the largest of Spain’s galleons, and one of the last. She was built in 1751 under the direction of Governor General Francisco de Ovando, a maritime expert. Once completed, the vessel weighed around 2,000 tons and carried 54 cannons. In her initial voyage, she was battered by a storm, and was plagued by a tabardillo (a kind of typhus) outbreak which killed off many crewmen (mostly Filipino) and the Governor General himself, as well as his son. Although large and well-equipped, due to being poorly manned, the galleon would be captured by British warships during the Battle of Manila in 1762, for which the English captains responsible received 30,000 pounds (roughly 170 million Philippine pesos at today’s exchange rate). The sale of the ship and its cargo totaled around 4.5 million dollars (around 6 billion Philippine pesos today). All this wealth went not to Spain or the Philippines, but to the British Empire.

It should be noted that many of the largest Manila galleons were constructed in Bicol shipyards, including Dancalan, Dalupaon, Pantao, Mobo, and Bagatao. Thus, it is due to the labor – hard-pressed, burdensome, and poorly-paid shipbuilding of the native Bicolanos, that resulted in the prosperity of the Spanish and British Empires. “The shipbuilding carried on in these islands on your majesty’s account is the total ruin and death of those natives, as all tell me. For, in addition to the danger carried by it in withdrawing them from the cultivation of their lands and fields—whereby the abundance of foods and fruits of the country is destroyed, many of them die from severe labor and harsh treatment. Joined to this is another evil, namely, that every indio who takes part in the shipbuilding is aided by all the neighborhood where he lives with a certain number of pesos on account of the small pay that is given them in behalf of your Majesty. Hence, many are being harassed and worn out by these methods.” Such was the statement made by Governor de Tensa in 1618, in a letter to King Philip III of Spain.

Besides this harsh treatment of the builders, another terror that loomed over them was the constant pirate raids from the “Moros” of the south. This was a practice that had been going on since pre-colonial times in southern Luzon and the Visayas regions. My ancestor Don Manuel de Castro, a shipwright and abaca trader whose story was recounted to me by my grandmother Pilar Nena Mella Ragragio many times, established a baluarte (or fort) to protect his astillero, which was also in Bagatao (and, if the dates are correct, occurred after the closing of the Manila galleon trade) from such attacks. Because of this, many gravitated to work in his shipyard and the colony developed, eventually resulting in the municipality of Magallanes that exists today.

The Spanish used the handiwork of Bicolanos to enrich themselves, and the British stole some of the booty carried by the galleons for themselves. Hopefully, such work paid off in some way for the Bicolanos. But did it? This is a question we must reflect on today.

About the author

JOSE JUAN FRANCISCO MARCO RAGRAGIO VALENCIANO is a pianist and graduate of the University of the Philippines College of Music with Bachelor of Music, Piano Performance, Magna cum Laude. He credits his parents for his love of music which began from childhood –- his mother Daisy and late father Joey were both musicians and professors at the UP College of Music. His father, a sitarist and jazz drummer, introduced him to Indian classical music and jazz. His mother, a former Madrigal singer and professor of Music Education, cultivated in him the love for European classical music. He was mentored by UP Professors Ces Pitogo, Nita Quinto, and Pia Balasico. Marco believes in following the path set by European composers of the Romantic period who fostered nationalism in their works by incorporating folk music and native traditions. He seeks to apply what they did in the Philippine context. He feels that his interest in the Bikol music scene is one significant step to fulfilling this paradigm.