Admiral of the Ocean Sea: A Life of Christopher Columbus by Samuel Eliot Morison

Admiral of the Ocean Sea: A Life of Christopher Columbus Reviews

• 
  Marty Reeder

  Columbus: the vile, despicable villain, who brought torture, tragedy, and terror to the American continents--a founding father of white male arrogance and bigotry.
  
  That is the most common depiction of the 15th century Genoese explorer that I come across from colleagues, media, and academics nowadays. Perhaps it’s my historical background, which puts me in the crowd who feels it their obligation to tear down Columbus from the apparent pedestal that he has occupied since elementary schools have been able to cobble together history-event-making rhymes. If that is their goal, then they’ve not just managed to get Chris off the pedestal, but they’ve also succeeded in toppling him into the mud and dragging him through the sewers before dropping him off in a mangled heap at the dump. Seems a bit extreme. Maybe warranted, but a bit too passionately vindictive for my taste. Therefore, I felt that poor Chris needed a voice in his defense, if there could be one. And to accomplish this, I tried to find what looked like a fair, information-focused, biography of the mariner. I found just the right balance in Samuel Eliot Morrison’s Admiral of the Ocean Sea.
  
  Morrison is, first and foremost, a fellow navigator. An admiral himself in the U.S. Navy in the 1930s, he has an acute knowledge of boats, charts, sailing instruments, crews, leadership on a ship, morale on a naval journey, nautical complications, ocean currents, wind patterns, storms and calms on shore and sea, and an endless array of other intricacies that only a fellow sailor would understand. Morrison is not just an outside observer for this biography, he is only separated from the experience by time, since he meticulously determined to reenact most of Columbus’s journeys in a sailing ship himself.
  
  Secondly, Morrison is a Harvard professor of history. His use and understanding of primary sources (seemingly his principal approach) and secondary sources (giving a greater understanding for the historiography of Columbus scholarship), is open, refreshing, and (to me) highly interesting. Most importantly his approach gains my trust as someone expecting to present the facts as best as they can be construed.
  
  Instead of our modern historical pundits, who casually throw critical grenades at Columbus from their faux-leather chairs, Morrison addresses this Columbus from the ground (the deck), respectfully, realistically, but certainly not without being afraid of judging his words, actions, and accomplishments for their place in his culture, to a lesser degree (though present) the Indian culture, and finally our culture (to the least degree).
  
  Okay, enough of that, and on to the biography. Here, Morrison’s voice is present but professional as he navigates Columbus’s early life and endeavors, leading into the improbable pitch for accessing the Indies from a westerly route. It feels that if there is a scrap of evidence as to Columbus’s actions, Morrison evaluates it and includes it. If it’s under scrutiny, he advises his audience, while usually throwing in his opinion, though he still leaves it open and in the hands of his audience. When it is time for the voyages, Morrison masterfully sets up the world of sail at the time, providing details to understand the culture, climate, and equipment; the knowledge, limits, and risks; and the politics, finances, and key players.
  
  Now, for some people all of the information that Morrison provides might feel too heavy, too detailed, perhaps too irrelevant. For many people, all of the use of sailing terms will feel exclusive and confusing. For me, however, I wanted this. I wanted the world of Columbus, and as an amateur sailor myself, I thrived with the in-depth descriptions of the methods and measurements of a mariner pushing the edges of the contemporary understanding of the world.
  
  Ultimately what emerges by the end of Columbus’s fourth voyage (and wow, what a voyage that fourth one is! How is that not taught more?) is a man of deep passions: a pious man who relentlessly pursues the impossible using a sincere faith as a driving force; a man of fierce pride who is unwilling to compromise what he believes is his right in spite of the apolitical nature of his requests; a compassionate man, who shows a generosity for his crew and even the Indians that is unmatched by any of his contemporaries (excepting the ahead-of-his-time Las Casas and conceding that his “generosity” in many cases would now be deemed intolerant at best and criminal at worst); a lousy colonist--his worst traits emerge when he is put in his most incompetent position as a bureaucrat trying to organize a new socio-economic order; a vastly and naturally talented sailor whose nautical measurements were average for his days, but whose instinct in getting to land at the right spot and in the right time and through all sorts of mariner difficulties were truly uncanny; a visionary man who obstinately takes a dream and pursues it relentlessly, and--while not attaining his original goal--the man succeeded in changing the world with his vision.
  
  Morrison is not pushing any of these archetypes of Columbus, these are my take-aways after submerging myself in the narrative of his life. The only points where Morrison takes clear sides are with Columbus’s capable skills as a navigator and his deplorable weakness as a colonist. Otherwise, the audience is afforded a clear, untinted view of Christopher Columbus’s accomplishments and failures through a trustworthy, thorough, and entertaining narrative. I’ve taken issue with Pulitzer Prize winners before (ahem, All the Light We Cannot See and The Grapes of Wrath), but this one is spot on. Would that more historians would have the background expertise, academic acumen, and composition capabilities as Samuel Eliot Morrison!
  
  And a final pitch against the Columbus calumners. Yes, Columbus took Indians as slaves. No, we would never justify that in our day. However, Columbus was usually fairly firm in his instructions for the crew to deal with the natives in a kind, compassionate way, something his crew members and successors in the Americas were not sensitive to in the slightest. When Columbus took slaves, it was either to facilitate translation, in which some of those Indians embraced their new way of life, or after skirmishes with a hostile Indian group (using prisoners-of-war as slaves was common currency back then--whether those skirmishes were based off of sound reasoning is another debate and takes us further into the fog of war, something we still grapple with in our oh-so-righteous modern times). It should be noted that many of those Indians that were punished and enslaved were the brutal and savage Carib Indians, who enslaved and then ate Columbus’s natural allies, the Taínos. Say what you will about the Jew-hating, Muslim-fighting, Inquisition-stained Christians of the time, they were definitely a step above the cannibal culture of the Caribs. So, perhaps we should not criticize the builders of the transcontinental railway as evil, global warming pioneers with their coal-driven locomotives; or maybe we need to ease off on the astronauts for littering on the moon; in fact, it might be a bit harsh to accuse Lincoln of being a hateful man because he didn’t push more gay rights equality beyond the whole abolishing slavery thing. I dare say that as socially advanced as we may think we are, perhaps we have some blind spots that will, in the future, open us to scorn from smug post-post-modernists deriding our backward views. Many people bemoan the results of Columbus’s vision, but as many problems as western civilization has brought with it, would any other culture have created the environment for democracy to the extent (worldwide) we now enjoy? Perhaps we should judge Christopher Columbus for his time, his truly astounding and impressive accomplishments, and be sure to stay humble ourselves--except for those of us that are perfect, then certainly we should be the first to cast stones into the past from a safe vantage point in the present!
• 
  Paul Haspel

  An Admiral of the Ocean Sea he may have been – such was the title bestowed on him by grateful Spanish monarchs after his triumphant return from the New World – but Christopher Columbus did a great many terrible things. Indeed, so great is the general public’s awareness of the cruelties of Columbus’ reign in the Americas that his statues in cities across the United States are getting vandalized by outraged citizens, or taken down by city governments. But while the question of whether American cities should have monuments to Columbus remains a matter of debate, his historical importance is not; and the reader who wants to know more about Columbus would do well to turn to this epic biography by a great naval historian.
  
  In Admiral of the Ocean Sea -- a book published in 1942, 450 years after Columbus’ first voyage across the Atlantic – Samuel Eliot Morison brought his academic expertise, and his practical knowledge of seafaring life, to the task of recounting Columbus’ story. In his preface, Morison describes the fitting-out of the 1939-40 “Harvard Columbus Expedition,” in which Morison and other intrepid sailing scholars re-enacted, in ships as much like Columbus’ fleet as possible, the original 1492 voyage.
  
  It sounds as though it was quite an adventure, and Morison wanted to do the same with Columbus’ other voyages; unfortunately, as Morison laconically notes, “war conditions have indefinitely postponed that pleasure, and it seemed best to conclude this biography without completing the work of re-exploration” (xviii). How fortunate, and how wise, that Morison made that decision. It’s a terrible thing to imagine one of America’s greatest historians, at the helm of a refitted Niña or Pinta or Santa Maria, running afoul of one of Admiral Dönitz's German U-boats!
  
  Morison’s researching and writing skills were as thoroughgoing as his skills in navigation, and therefore this Life of Christopher Columbus sails briskly along like a well-maneuvered caravel with a strong following breeze. Quickly and efficiently, Morison puts to rest some popular legends that are part of the Columbus story – the belief, for example, that Columbus, beset by flat-Earthers all around, was alone in claiming that the world was a spherical globe. When Columbus and the priest Hernando de Talavera presented their opposing ideas at the University of Salamanca in 1486, “The sphericity of the globe was not in question. The issue was the width of the ocean; and therein the opposition was right” (p. 89).
  
  Basically, Columbus miscalculated the size of the globe, believing that this round world was smaller than it truly is. His epic voyage started from that mistake! But as propagated by author Washington Irving in a biography of Columbus, the story of Columbus vs. the flat-Earthers “has become one of the most popular Columbian myths; for we all love to hear of professors and experts being confounded by simple common sense” (p. 89).
  
  A highlight for many readers of Admiral of the Ocean Sea is likely to be Chapter XVI, “Landfall – October 11-14, 1492.” Indeed, if you can, I would recommend that you read the Little, Brown hardcover edition of this book from 1942, because in its various printings it opens Chapter XVI with a gorgeous fold-out map showing all of Columbus’ voyages in admirable detail. It is in such attention to detail that Admiral of the Ocean Sea truly shines.
  
  And whether you love Columbus (as a number of people do) or hate him (as a growing number of other people do), we can all agree that the moment when a lookout aboard one of his ships first cited the New World is a central moment in human history; and Morison captures the elemental human drama of that moment:
  
  [T]his night of October 11-12 was one big with destiny for the human race, the most momentous ever experienced aboard any ship in any sea….A brave trade wind is blowing and the caravels are rolling, plunging and throwing spray as they cut down the last invisible barrier between the Old World and the New. Only a few moments now, and an era that began in remotest antiquity will end. Rodrigo de Triana, lookout on Pinta’s forecastle, sees something like a white sand cliff gleaming in the moonlight on the western horizon, then another, and a dark line of land connecting them. 'Tierra! tierra!' he shouts, and this time land it is. (pp. 223, 226)
  
  It is an epic moment, to be sure – the Old World and the New World coming together, never to be parted again – and I liked the dramatic way the moment of “discovery” was captured in Ridley Scott’s 1992 film 1492: Conquest of Paradise (even if I thought that the film was much too sympathetic to Columbus on several counts). But if you think that Morison’s recognition of the importance of Columbus’ achievements blinds him to Columbus’ faults, think again. In a chapter appropriately titled “Hell in Hispaniola,” Morison makes no bones about Columbus’ treatment of the original Americans:
  
  Far from being discouraged by [Ferdinand and Isabella’s] hint that that the King and Queen did not look kindly on an American slave trade, even with the specious promise of making Christians and productive workers out of heathen cannibals, Columbus proceeded to establish a slave trade with the inhabitants of Hispaniola. And this, after he had declared time and again that the Tainos were the kindest, most peaceful and generous people in the world, who wanted nothing but a chance to become good subjects and good Christians….But now he resorted to the monstrous expedient of sending hundreds of the wretched creatures overseas, to the slave mart of Seville. (pp. 486-87)
  
  What condemnation could be clearer than that?
  
  I have seen the tomb of Columbus in the Seville Cathedral; the admiral’s bier is borne by four kings, in the chapel where Ferdinand and Isabella bade Columbus farewell, and welcomed him back from the First Voyage. No one remembers who the four kings are without a copy of the cathedral’s official brochure; everyone knows who Columbus was. The chapel is adorned with flags of the American nations; and as I think back to my first look at those flags – including the red, white, and blue of the United States of America – I consider Morison’s closing declaration that “The whole history of the Americas stems from the Four Voyages of Columbus” (671). We today might take issue with that declaration – after all, the original Native American inhabitants of the Americas had their own history that went back thousands of years before 1492 – but Morison has nonetheless written what remains the definitive biography of a singularly important individual.
• 
  Leftbanker

  Samuel Elliot Morrison makes his intentions very clear about what he was after in this biography of Cristóbal Colon: he wanted to show what the man did, not who he was. All of the modern criticism of the man focuses less on the man, and more on the era in which he lived. It was a violent, horrible era in many respects, a time when entire cities were destroyed by invaders and the inhabitants enslaved or slaughtered. A day before the captain-general sailed for the New World, the Jews of Spain were shipped out of the country. To judge Colon as some sort of tyrant would be like making fun of the clothes he wore 500 years ago.
  
  What he did was perform some very impressive sailing achievements, almost magical in the fact that he had so little in the way of science backing him up. He was the master of “dead reckoning” or sailing by simply observing the sea and the sky without much in the way of technical support or celestial knowledge.
  
  I’ve read several accounts of the first voyage, and this is definitely the gold standard as it was written by a pretty fair sailor in his own right. The technical aspects of just how Colon carried out this voyage are more important than anything else in this story.
• 
  Scott Foshee

  This book is large, but very readable and the author manages to keep things interesting through all four of Columbus’ voyages of discovery. It was written by Samuel Eliot Morison after he retraced Columbus’ voyages in 1939-1940 with the Harvard Columbus Expedition.
  
  Morison, who won the Pulitzer Prize for this work, humanizes Columbus, who is fleshed out warts and all. Columbus is intensely religious, loyal, at times a bore, a peerless admiral and navigator, a so-so and at times poor administrator, courageous, brilliant and at times extremely hardheaded. He made mistakes, took slaves, died under appreciated, yet still completed four of the most important voyages in the history of mankind. He never gave up on the idea that he had actually discovered a new route to the orient, and never fully realized what he had actually found. He was double crossed by his own crew multiple times, faced mutinies, battled arthritis, and was actually led back to Spain in chains following his third voyage.
  
  One of the things we struggle with understanding today is the fact that Columbus (and Magellan, along with many other explorers) had no idea where they were going. There were literally no maps at the time to show them what was on the other side of the ocean, or even if there was another side. It takes unbelievable courage to plunge headfirst off the edge of the map and most people now simply cannot understand what it took to face this complete uncertainty without hope of rescue while being responsible for the lives of the crew and property of the crown while doing it.
  
  This is a terrific book, well researched and full of interesting details. Fans of true adventure, exploration, discovery, maps, world history and geography will love it.
• 
  Roger Burk

  Over sixty years ago Morison set out to sail Columbus' four voyages as research for this biography, identifying his landmarks wherever possible. The project was not quite completed because of the advent of World War II, but he did enough to give great color, verve, and immediacy to this engrossing and enlightening biography.
  
  Columbus tried to insist on treating the natives kindly, often keeping his rapacious crews confined on board ship ship when they would rather be off getting gold or sex for trinkets or threats. But he was shockingly willing to kidnap a few natives whenever he felt he needed some to train as translators, or for display back in Castille. One must make allowances for the mores of the time, I suppose. Nowadays we might see this as crass racism, but evidently it was not: Columbus also declared himself willing to enslave the Portuguese of the Azores in a dispute during the return from the First Voyage.
  
  To his shame, Columbus acquiesced in the despoilation of Hispaniola, which started while he was off exploring and which he failed to stop. Though a master navigator, both by dead reckoning in open ocean and feeling his way along unknown coasts, he was a failure as a governor.
  
  Speaking of different mores, one of his officers was given a Carib woman from the Antilles early in Second Voyage, and he was not ashamed to report that he immediately took her to his cabin, brutally beat her into submission, and raped her. Then he had the effrontery to claim that she enjoyed the coitus. I suppose it was a long voyage. Anyway, here one must make allowance for the low opinion the Spaniards had for the Caribs. They came upon a Carib abattoir on one of the islands, and found that the Caribs fed on the docile Taino whom Columbus had befriended in the Bahamas. They captured and castrated the boys, fattening them for the table. The maidens they kept to provide babies, a particular delicacy.
  
  The unforgettable Fourth Voyage spent too much time exploring the coast of Central American, looking for a passage to India. He finally gave up, gathered gold, and tried to plant a settlement. It had to be abandoned at the last minute after the natives gathered to attack. His ships were holed like Swiss cheese from shipworm, and only by ceaseless pumping did they make it to yet uncolonized Jamaica, where the ships had to be beached. A lieutenant made the three-day crossing to Hispaniola by canoe, but the governor there disliked Columbus and it was about a year until rescue came. Meanwhile, Columbus convinced the natives to provide sustenance by producing a lunar eclipse (with the help of a good almanac) as evidence of the divine will.
  
  Columbus was a master mariner and he transformed the world, but it was all a mistake. He had convinced himself, against the best opinion of his time, that the world was half as big as it is. He never lost faith that Cuba was part of China, and that the Isthmus of Panama was somewhere near the Malay Peninsula. Whenever the Indians told him of a "great city" nearby, he expected to find there an emissary of the Great Kahn dressed in silks. Instead, he always found another circle of huts. If not for the Americas, his first three ships would have vanished in a trackless ocean.
• 
  Carmen

  In his faith, his deductive methods of reasoning, his unquestioning acceptance of the current ethics, Columbus was a man of the Middle Ages, and in the best sense. In his readiness to translate thought into action, in lively curiosity and accurate observation of natural phenomena, in his joyous sense of adventure and desire to win wealth and recognition, he was a modern man. This dualism makes the character and career of Columbus a puzzle to the dull-witted, a delight to the discerning. It unlocks most of the so-called Columbus "mysteries", "questions" and "problems," which were meither mysteries, questions, nor problems to hiscontemporaries, but recent creations of dull pedants without faith who never tasted the joy of sea adventure.
• 
  Lemar

  Having the qualities of both a gifted writer and a navy man make Eliot the perfect author to bring these epic (if ever that word was deserved it is here) journeys to life.
• 
  Charles

  One of the Great Historical Biographies
  
  The fact that this book, written in 1942, is still in print (paperback) is a tribute to Samuel Eliot Morison who has written one of the great historical biographies.
  
  The author combines impressive scholarship with the first hand experiences of a sailor. There is a thorough examination of the historical record of Columbus’ family and of the contemporary records both in his years of wilderness (as he lobbied for years for a sponsor of his voyage of discovery) and during his four voyages to the New World. But there is also Morison who in a sailboat traced Columbus’ travels and attempted to find the exact locations of coastlines, rivers and harbors that Columbus described. Morison continued to sail off the coast of Africa and in the Caribbean even as war broke out in 1939. (This seems dangerous even though the United States had not yet entered the war.)
  
  Finally, not only is Morison a fluent writer, but also the book contains lovely touches of humor based on his own experience as he researched the book. Writing of the only provisioning Columbus was able to obtain midpoint in a later voyage, he observes,“Salted goat mutton is one of the world’s worst meats [and likely contributed to the crew’s near mutiny!].” Describing the navigation assistance he received from an illiterate Azorean crew member in 1940, he observed, “Literacy has helped seamanship very little indeed.”
  
  Among the book’s insights:
  
  1) Many in Columbus’ time believed that the earth was round. It wasn’t that mariners thought the world was flat or that they didn’t entertain the idea of sailing west, but that they lacked the means to do so — particularly from the Azores, where wind is westerly and the caravels couldn’t cope with head winds and rough seas. It was safer to hug the coast of Africa, as the Portuguese were doing. Given the sailing technology and provisioning of the time, sea captains worried that if they sailed west they would lack the means to get back.

  
  2) Columbus succeeded because he decided to follow a latitude where northeast trade winds prevailed. But Columbus and many of his contemporaries underestimated the size of the earth. They also underestimated how much of the earth’s surface is water (the Pacific Ocean, of course, was unknown) and thus they thought that the eastern edge of the Asian continent was much closer to Europe than it is.

  
  3) It took astounding seamanship to get to the Caribbean on the first voyage and to get back, and Columbus achieved this navigational feat on four separate voyages. With the instrumentation of the time, he was terrible at calculating his longitudinal position and it would be centuries before sailors could accurately determine latitude. But no one was better than Columbus at dead reckoning and Morison helps the reader understand what a feat that was as wind and currents, as well as storms, blew him off a steady course.

  
  4) The parochialism of 15th Century Europeans is amazing to those of us in the 21st Century. Columbus expected that he would arrive in China and, once told about the power and glory of the Spanish monarchy, the Emperor of China would quickly pledge subservience to the Spanish crown.

  
  5) Morison is unstintingly critical of the brutal treatment of the indigenous people by Columbus and his contemporaries, so this isn’t something only recently recognized by those who want to remove Columbus statues. Not finding much gold or spices to bring back, Columbus kidnapped native Americans to bring back as souvenirs for his Royal sponsors. He also kidnapped natives in order to train them as translators. In justifying the cost of the voyage, Columbus reported on how easily native people could be subdued and made slaves. Crewmen had no reservations about throwing a native overboard to death if provisions ran low.

  
  6) By the time of Columbus’ fourth voyage, in 1500, many others were sailing to the New World. I hadn’t realized how quickly this occurred. Columbus then faced rivals who misrepresented his leadership and judgement and successfully discredited him back in Spain.

  
  7) Columbus’ attempt to establish a permanent settlement was a disaster. He had plenty of volunteers to stay at the end of his first voyage, a fact that is surprising as he was leaving a handful of Europeans in a hostile and unfamiliar environment. Even in subsequent voyages, after the Spanish began to supply seeds to be planted in the rich soil, these early settlers refused to become self sufficient, quarreled among themselves, and plundered and killed the native population that far outnumbered them. This invited reprisals in which the Europeans could be wiped out to a man. No one wanted to settle the New World, only to exploit it and return home rich. (This failure was not unique to the Spanish. Nearly a century later the settlers in the first English colony in North America, Roanoke in North Carolina, all died and it became known as the Lost Colony.)
  
  This is not a light read. As an experienced sailor, Morison talks about aspects of sailing and navigation which went over my head. But the research for the book set the highest standard and the author’s decision to trace Columbus’ voyages is remarkable. Even if someone attempted to duplicate this feat today, they would be unlikely to see the unspoiled coastlines that the author encountered some 80 years ago. So Morison has become not only a chronicler but a contributor to the historical record.
• 
  David Campbell

  Absolutely superb, near flawlessly written biography of late-15th century Italian navigator and admiral Christopher Columbus by U.S. Navy Reserve Rear Admiral Samuel Eliot Morison, American historian, Harvard University professor, descendant of the academically distinguished Eliot family of Boston, two-time winner of the Pulitzer Prizes for Biography, and one of the true dark horses of the 20th century American intellect. Drawing on his own career at sea, and in some ways the still-developing field of experimental archaeology, Admiral Morison fills in the scant, scattered historical records of Columbus’s life and latitudes by actually recreating his 1492 voyage as leader of the 1939 Harvard Columbus Expedition. What emerges from Morison study is a mature, iconoclastic image of Columbus that challenges both the heroic, continent-conquering quadricentennial narrative fashioned in the late 19th century, as well as the continent-destroying (or at least continent-poisoning) narrative surrounding the quincentenary of his arrival in 1992. Columbus was, simply put, the product of a Medieval Era in European history that he himself helped bring to a close. He was a proud, punctilious (almost mystical) Italian Catholic from a middle-class Genoese family, apprenticed into merchant seamanship in Portugal, learned the ropes in stormy seas off the coasts of Ireland and Iceland, and lobbied for his famous Atlantic crossing (he assumed to China and Japan) more as a risky act of social climbing with Spanish nobility than as a scientific adventure, a project that a Spanish monarchy whose global trade routes were surrounded by Muslims on nearly all sides initially supported with enthusiasm. Columbus’s actual navigational skills themselves were, even by Morison’s modern maritime assessment, truly world-class (Columbus used no less than two lunar eclipses that he predicted from astronomical charts to triangulate his position on the globe), and his actual leadership on the decks of the Santa María was equally commendable (Columbus had about two days until a mutiny on October 10th, 1492…and stretched things out just long enough to hit San Salvador on October 12th). Off the deck, however, Columbus was a disaster not only for his crew, the Indigenous peoples he encountered, but also for Spain, his family, and even himself. His tenure as colonial governor at Hispaniola descended into a Draconian orgy of executions and slavery (present in Spain since Ancient Rome) that even the decidedly un-squeamish Spanish Empire eventually pulled the plug on. His brilliant maritime intuition mixed a little too closely with his intense Italian-Iberian spiritually to the point that even his own crew found it over-baked (and often dismissed as self-delusion) at times. All his transatlantic voyages (four total) become progressively underfunded (and professionally desperate) with each launch. Lastly, despite (well, probably on account of) not having ANY inclination of his exact place in the world or world history itself, he could never quite call his motivations for what they really were: Old School American Ambition. Ultimately, Columbus isn’t a case study in good leadership, per se, be it Medieval or Modern, but a case study in a great technical expert (i.e. navigation and maritime science) allowing a desire for personal advancement to convince themselves that having technical skill somehow translates into having managerial or leadership acumen. Columbus could get his boats and his crew across the Atlantic more artfully than probably anybody in the world then (or now). The worst thing that ever happened to him (and quite a few others) was him accidentally running into America.
• 
  Lawrence DeAngelus

  One of the best books I've ever read. Morison is not only a great historian, but a captivating writer as well. His descriptions of the places Columbus visited, and the characters involved, just jump right off the pages. A mariner himself who understands the language, traditions and practical aspects of sailing, he sailed many of the same routes as Columbus in preparation for this account. His personal observations of the land, sea and sailing conditions adds to the richness of the story and makes him the perfect person to help the reader appreciate the events of these momentous voyages. Many of Morison's passages are quite moving, others gripping, especially in his telling of how Columbus and his crew contend with the weather on the homeward leg of his first voyage, almost delivering his great discovery to the ocean floor instead of to Spain. He treats Columbus' failures fairly and accurately, without letting them overshadow his many accomplishments. One of the things that Morison focusses on is Columbus's devout Catholic faith and habits, which I found not only critical to truly understanding his motivations and actions and historical importance (the voyages led to probably the greatest expansion of Christianity in history), but also personally inspiring. This is a great book.
• 
  Noah Calcagno

  Absolutely incredible. Morison does a good job at capturing the grandeur of Columbus’ Four Voyages, as well as the complexity of his character.
  
  The biography is thorough and honest. It details the sense of piety and duty that underscored all of his actions, but is also frank about his mistakes, particularly when it came to governing his discoveries.
  
  The short of it is Columbus is truly one of the greatest men of the past thousand years, and the ramifications of his accomplishments cannot be understated. He didn’t simply stumble upon the Indies, he was a master navigator who did the impossible. Every nation west of the Atlantic owes him their gratitude.
• 
  Brian Swain

  Probably the seminal and most detailed account of Columbus's voyages. Morison treats Columbus with perhaps a bit more gentleness than more recent history has done, but the book is nevertheless extraordinarily complete treatment of the journey, including extremely interesting details on the state of the sailing, ship rigging, and navigational arts of the time. It was an extremely useful resource for me in conducting research for my own historical novel about the first Columbus voyage.
• 
  Benji Smith

  I like that he states on page 18 of the preface that there is not "authentic" biography of Columbus. This book almost reads like fiction in the easy way with which the research falls from the page. It even includes the "egg story" on page 361. I love the maps and diagrams and day-by-day accounts of his voyages. I highly recommend it.
• 
  Helaine

  I had always enjoyed history classes in school, but this book started my love affair with the non-fiction book. I have re-read it a couple of times over the years and have passed it on to relatives and friends.
• 
  John Caviglia

  Knocked my socks off in high school. Recently, I read
  Isabella: The Warrior Queen, and found she relies heavily on Morison. Am tempted to reread.
• 
  Mark

  Well, without question, as a Christian, I see Columbus beginning on the right foot. He seemed to mean well in his eyes, to bring light to a people that did not know Jesus Christ. The confusion comes when his first thought of the Guanahani people was they would make good slaves. I do not recall the name of his compatriot who thought Columbus's position was unchristian. To me this means attitude presents a damming indictment against him, as we cannot condone his behaviour in light of the thinking of his day. The argument of presentism is of the tale. He bears the full weight of his actions. However, at this point he was only expressing his thoughts. Later, when he agreed on his thoughts, taking the negatives prisoner and destroying an entire race of innocent people he loses significant credibility.
  
  I can to some degree uand his predicament. He was in significant debt to Ferdinand and Isabella, as well as others I'm sure, who funded the enterprise. I imagine the pressure to pay in kind by returning with wealth that justified the tremendous expense was what weighed heavily on his mind. He faced a very difficult moment of expediency, to compromise his morals and take the natives captive or to compromise his integrity and renege on his promise of wealth. This was a tough place to be. I see in his thinking something akin to the way Meriwether Lewis looked on the negative Americans when on his famous Lewis and Clark expedition. He two used expediency as justification for theft and killing Indians who committed petty crimes, including ones he himself had committed against other Indians (see Stephen Ambrose, Undaunted Courage).
  
  There was something common to some of those in our Western culture, a perception of many people that justified the abuse of others who seemed either lesser than or foreign. William Shirer's Rise and Fall of the Third Reich certainly presents those of the worst class of this kind of expediency thinking to justify horrific deeds in the name of a just cause.
  
  So, the historical theme is not new and likely not unique to western culture. Just plain sad.
  
  In the end I see Columbus as someone who deeply believed in God and Jesus Christ and began his voyage wanting to share that truth with others. It seems to me that the pressure of having to pay for the voyage by bringing home gold to Ferdinand and Isabella brought on him a requirement that led him to become desperate. Others were opposed to him enslaving people. Yet, his need to fulfill his obligations financially led him to violate what I believe he knew was wrong, the Christian ideal that we not harm another for our own gain.
  
  I think Columbus is a complex person. There's no question that he was blessed in his gift to navigate. He did something no one else could do. His contribution to the discovery of America led to its colonization and the foundation of the United states. I believe the foundation of the United States was inspired by God. What I learned from Columbus is the difficulty of remaining true to our convictions when faced with difficult circumstances. I hope if I were ever in his place I could stand true to what I believe despite the mounting intense pressure to give in to the needs of the world over the needs placed on me by my faith in God.
• 
  Russell

  Superb. Unambiguously makes the case for Columbus' place in the Pantheon Of The Great.
• 
  Addie

  This was a long book to read, but well worth it! Morison & his friend through Harvard school decide to trace Columbus' routes across the ocean in a similar sailing vessel in 1939. They read & study all the notes, journals, documents, etc.... & take off. Morison then tells Columbus' tale as they discover everything from sailing, rigging, trade winds, navigations, currents, islands, hurricanes, provisions, etc... They include the accounts of those involved from the Sovereigns in Spain, to Las Casas the historian, to Ferdinand Columbus - his own son who accompanied him on his last voyage. They talk about landings, Tainos Indians, trading, slavery, conquering, gold, maps, syphilis, mutiny, survival, discovering, sailing, dead reckoning, tribal practices, clothing worn, fish caught, the beauty of the land, the danger of the land, repairs, deceit, contracts, wars, peace, & so much more! It felt good to read truth about this amazing Admiral, & to separate the real story written in existing documents from the rumors that fly so rampant about Columbus today. I did give it 4 stars purely because of the length of the book, & the extensive sailing information. While I plan to read more in the future on Columbus, I feel this book gave me a more accurate view of Christopher Columbus than I could find on the internet today, where opinions don't necessarily equal truth.
• 
  Kristine

  Fundamentally, I liked the book. It was very long and very detailed. What I really liked was learning more about Christopher Columbus and the four voyages he took to the New World. I was fascinated to know more of the particulars of his experiences and the people he encountered. At the same time, I was very grateful I listened to the book on CD as there were so many details about sailing and discoveries that I could not assimilate them all. Mr. Morison actually sailed in a reconstructed ship similar to the one Columbus used and sailed the same areas looking to observe the similarities between Columbus' journals and records and what exists today. At times it was a bit tedious for me to continue. Yet, I am so glad I finished. I have come to appreciate what Columbus contributed to the discovery of the New World. I am so impressed that the hand of God spared, guided and protected him. Columbus' initial motivations were to glorify God. I learned that colonizing a new area of the world where the culture is so remarkably different that your own would be a difficult task. I was saddened by Columbus' treatment of the indigenous peoples, but I recognize the challenges he faced and what lead him to do as he did.
• 
  Glen Pekin

  There is very little original source documentation regarding Columbus so it might be hard to see how a 650 pg book ( I read the 1 volume condensed edition) can be filled up with anything but speculation. Morison keeps this to a minimum. As an Admiral and someone who had actually sailed these waters and being a worthy writer he is capable of interjecting brief scenes and conversations in order to put some "sailor's flavoring" into a what could have become a mere day by day account of where Columbus sailed. The book has nice maps and thanks to the internet's access to everything you can follow the story easily. The discussions on sailing and astronomy may go over your head but they inspired me to have a hand at it using an astronomy program to watch the north pole. Also he writes of the Islands as he saw them in 1939 and it leads one to speculate on how they have changed since then.
• 
  JoséMaría BlancoWhite

  In Spanish for the benefit of Spaniards
  
  Un clásico que sigue siendo un referente en cuanto a la vida del marino, a pesar de haber sido escrito en la 1ª mitad del siglo pasado.
  
  Narración casi novelesca de la vida del gran almirante. Ortodoxa. Reacio a admitir posibilidades interpretativas fuera de las oficiales y tradicionales, lo cual deja sin aclarar el por qué de tanto misterio en relación a la nacionalidad de Colón. La historia se lee con tanta pasión como se intuye que ha sido escrita. Una sucesión de aventuras. Seguimos, codo con codo, las idas y venidas del héroe. Y ante los fallos, las debilidades del hombre, nos compadecemos. Una biografía escrita por un marino admirador del mayor marino de la historia. Y eso que era de familia de tejedores de lana y no se subió a un barco hasta que y era mayorcito...
• 
  Scott Wozniak

  For better and for worse, Christopher Columbus changed the world. This book went too far, I think, explaining all the nuances of the sailing side (the author actually recreated his multiple sailing voyages, visiting all those islands and coves). But aside from that it was well-written. In the end, I came to see that Columbus was a truly great sailor and sadly sloppy leader. He was not intentionally bad, but he got so stubbornly focused on his main goal that he compromised other important things to reach it. For example, he truly did want to bring civilization to the natives. But when his men (sneaking off on their own) stirred up trouble by their violence/theft, he decided to back his men in order to preserve the sailing voyage.
• 
  Kimberlytwin1

  Until I read this book, I had no idea the horror and bloodshed brought to the American continent. It was sickening to read what so called christian men could do to other human beings. I nevertheless have a much greater admiration and respect for Christopher Columbus and his listening to that inner voice telling him he was meant to discover "The New Land". He was an incredible man of strength and vision, when around him at times were those with no scope or vista of the nose on their own face.
  
• 
  David

  I've been through the major biographies now, from Washington Irving (1828) to Laurence Bergreen (2011), with stops at Cecil Jane, the admirable Salvador de Madariaga, Rebecca Catz, William Least Heat Moon and others along the way, and while the dust-jacket blurb is right that 'Columbus has become a more controversial figure today than he was when Morison wrote', this Pulitzer-Prize-winning work of 1941 seems to me still the best scholarly treatment in English.