At that early hour the two men entered the hotel dinning room where coffee and cinnamon rolls were available with fruit and juices. They loaded their trays copiously and sat across from one another. Professor Simons was the first to re-engage their speculations about sixteenth century explorers from the night before.

"So for now, my distracted young colleague. . . shall we eliminate the lumbering Spanish galleons from our list of tomb builders? Simply on the grounds that they passed by the Bixby site too far out to sea? Never wishing to wreck their cargos?"

Nicasio reluctantly smiled. He thought for a moment. The challenge at hand-that of testing his knowledge of the voyagers who had come in on that a first wave of exploration to California's coast, was intoxicating. And it quickly put Daniela out of his mind. It would be a stimulating exercise with his professor he surmised, and one he did not want to miss.

"Yes, I suppose . . . Why? Do you have any candidates on that Manila route?"

"Well what about Cermeno?"

Nicasio thought for a moment. Was his professor testing him?

"OK. He's one of the earliest Spaniards to sail to the west coast . . . granted. Made history just after Manila was opened to New Spain for trade. But . . . no, professor it couldn't have been him."

"Why not, young man? Cermeno's return route was ordered specifically from Madrid to be close-hauled to the land. Right? To parallel the coast all the way south to Mexico."

Nicasio took a long drink of his orange juice preparing for his answer.

Yes. And as you said last night . . .this was something they later learned not to do. But, sir, the tholos stones couldn't have been ferried to the cliff site during Cermeno's voyage. Impossible."

"And why is that?"

Now Nicasio was certain his former teacher was testing him.

"Because even though Cermeno had taken instructions from the Viceroy in Mexico . . . and most likely originally from Madrid to make his route closer to the coast . . . disaster hit him and his crew."

"Go on . . ."

"Well, as you know, he had been commissioned to search for a lay-over port. For future Manila galleon voyages. There was always a critical need to refresh the crews and repair the ships on that long, circular route to Mexico."

"That's correct. There are credible records that Cermeno's secondary mission was for the purpose of exploration. It was an 'add-on' to his commercial venture."

"And probably very well-commissioned, by the way."

Nicasio took a sip now of his hot coffee. He was confident about his contribution to the discussion.

"Dr. Simons, I read the original Spanish logs of Cermeno's route and the fate of his voyage during my research for the work on Drake last year."

"Alright. So you tell me why we shouldn't consider him. Why it wasn't him and his crew who. . . on some secret mission . . . couldn't have placed those stones on the cliff in Big Sur? He passed near enough the area according to the records."

"Well, yes. That's true. And his dates do work out for us. But it would have been impossible, sir. In 1595 his ships, the San Augustine and San Buenaventura approached the California coast from Manila on a northeastern run with a fully loaded galleon. They carried Chinese earthen ware, lacquered furniture and treasured Manila spices. It was clearly above the 40th latitude when he sighted land and navigated toward it. The Spanish log says so."

"Alright . . ."

"He followed the coastal features closely, parallel to the cliffs southard, as ordered. Looking for that suitable future port. No doubt commissioned for."

"Secretly commissioned for."

"Yes, that's the theory."

Nicasio sipped again from his coffee and bit into a piece of buttered toast. He felt elated being able to give such detailed information gleaned from his past years of research.

"But Vizcaino, a better candidate, would do the same in his caravels some six or seven years later. Sailing north from Mexico. Only this time it was up the coast."

"That's correct."

" And he too was close-hauled to the cliffs, professor. And under a contract of exploration and map making. By the Viceroy in Mexico City. But we can completely rule out Cermeno.

"Yes? Go on. Why eliminate him, Nicasio?"

"He eventually put in to land somewhere above San Francisco for fresh water and food. He chose the lee side of Point Reyes as protection from the heavy winds. There he parked his two ships in Drake's Bay. Just as Francis Drake did earlier in 1579."

The professor smiled benevolently at Nicasio. "You're still convinced of that location for the Englishman's landfall, aren't you my boy?"

"Why wouldn't I be, sir? My entire dissertation supports his landing was there. It is my whole thesis, remember, sir?"

The professor winked and smiled.

"Just testing your academic resolve, Nicasio."

He tried to smile back. But following Dr. Simons' mentioning of Drake's landing in a jocular manner, his expression faded. Nevertheless, being able to give his own expertise was exhilarating to the young scholar. It did not matter that it would probably be very short lived with his mentor that morning, but it was nonetheless affirming.

"Alright then, Nicasio. Continue, please."

"So Cermeno was equipped with this smaller craft . . . the San Buenaventura. He used it to sail up into the estuary of Drake's bay, keeping the much larger San Augustine anchored out further . . . for about two weeks. She was just inside the point's protection from heavy surf and wind."

"That must have been a pretty grueling journey for them coming back from Manila. Three months across the Pacific. And then to finally see those first signs of land."

"Yeah. The Spanish called those first signs "las senas." These were usually floating trunks and branches of downed trees. Carried out to sea from the Pacific storms."

"A welcome sight no doubt."

"They were always a treasured t be seen by the galleon trade. But the distance behind their ships and lack of supplies had already put a heavy burden on Cermeno's men. Most by this time were toothless and weak from scurvy. By the accounts I read, they were completely incapacitated on deck. Many had already died."

"Usually half the crew on these journeys would have died before their arrival at Navidad or Acapulco. So are you saying that's the reason Cermeno's expedition shouldn't be considered as our tomb builders?"

"Partly. His voyage turned out to be a total catastrophe. Seems he didn't order the galleon San Augustine to be anchored far enough inside the lip of Point Reyes bluffs. The huge ship was exposed to high winds from the east. And what happened next was recorded by testimony of the few survivors back in Seville."

"Tell me."

"When Cermeno took the smaller San Buenaventura in close to the coast, an eastern gale came up and pushed the galleon into the point. She became trapped on the rocks and then totally wrecked on the cliffs in high surf. Ten crew members were lost in the waves as the ship overturned."

"It's an old story for these waters."

"The entire cargo. . . silks, porcelains, furniture, spices . . they all went onto the rocks with the men in splinters and pieces."

"You remember details well, my boy."

"Well this was a memorable story, sir. The smaller San Buenaventura was the remaining crew's only way back to Acapulco."

"A pretty amazing feat."

"Only some seventy survivors made it to Mexico in this small, leaking craft. Most were near death when they drifted into port."

"Not an uncommon sight for Acapulco in those times."

"Even if we were to assume the larger ship had those green marble stones in its hold, they would have been lost in the wreck with the rest of the cargo. And Cermeno's smaller vessel couldn't have carried the weight of them south to the Bixby site, sir. Nor would the men have had any strength to move them."

"Obviously so, young man."

"There's just no way any of Cermeno's survivors made a proper landing further south, near Big Sur. Most were already weakened with scurvy. They only waited for the winds and current to carry them south to Mexico."

"Well told, Nicasio. . .You have convinced me. Cermeno is officially off our list of tomb constructors."

The professor took a drink of his orange juice. The two men nodded and tapped their glasses together in an absurd cause for celebration.

"I believe all the Manila-returning galleons after Cermeno should be taken off our list as well, sir. Simply for the deep sea routes they took home. None were to come afterward so close to land as Cemeno."

"Well, it's a hasty assumption . . . but seems logical. Unless it was the very earliest of pilots to forge that journey. Coming unknowingly so close to the bluffs. But strangely, there has never been found any such detailed account of that close route. Crossing back to Mexico. So I'll defer for now to your suggestion."

Nicasio could see the professor was currently in a hurry to eat and get on the road.

"Let me ask you something, young man," the professor asked, chewing large mouthfuls of his breakfast and noisily sipping his coffee to finish. "Aside from the most obvious . . . the Cabrillo and Vizcaino expeditions . . . 1542 and 1602 . . . who else do you think could be even remotely linked to those doublet buttons . . . and our Amazon-embellished sarcophagus down there?"

Nicasio smiled broadly at the challenge.

"During our target date? Before or around 1600?"

"Yes, young colleague. I want you to suggest an exploration party which I may not have considered."

Nicasio had been waiting for the suggestion. For he had already thought of someone.

"And so," the professor continued, "I'll in turn reveal one to you. One you may be surprised to hear. Perhaps we'll both then be enlightened."

Suddenly a noisy group of little girls wearing Monterey Bay Aquarium T-shirts entered the dinning hall. They carried colorful backpacks for their day of excursions on the peninsula.

Nicasio had one explorer in mind whom he was sure Dr. Simons would have overlooked.

"OK . . . I have a mariner maybe you wouldn't consider, sir."

"Good. As I have one for you."

Nicasio made quick work of a piece of toast, downing it with his coffee. Both men paused, took a final drink of their juice and waited for the other to play his hand.

"OK," Nicasio said, taking in a deep breath. "So my unexpected candidate would have to be . . . Juan de Fuca." He said this name boldly, looking into the professor's eyes for a reaction.

There was hardly any.

"De Fuca, you say?"

"Yes."

"Juan de Fuca . . . the Greek navigator?"

"Yes."

"Well there's hardly any reliable research to support this claim you suggest . . . that he was truly a pilot on the western coast during those times. It's mere speculations, as I know, Nicasio. Hearsay based on rumors really."

Nicasio just blinked back at him.

"That he was even a real person, comes into question. Or anyone who had anything to do with New World Pacific navigation."

The professor rubbed his chin slowly.

"There's just no documentation of De Fuca's routes. And especially the wild claims that he sailed for the Spanish as pilot as far north as Vancouver Island.

"But sir. You're just referring to the obscure beliefs that he had navigated up the coast and reported discovering the actual 'Northwest Passage.' The legendary hidden waterway . . . supposedly through the continent?"

"Alright, I am aware of the controversies surrounding this phantom explorer. But I had never put much stock into any of those tales, young man. Not until some tangible evidence emerges that Juan de Fuca really existed and was a pilot for the Spanish, will I even consider him. For now it's just all too fantastic to accept."

"But we can not deny the passage today is called the Strait of Juan de Fuca, Professor. Why?"

"Because we all still love our impossible legends, my boy. Stories which no doubt spring from boredom and hearsay."

Nicasio was disappointed his suggestion was so soundly rejected.

"Juan de Fuca is only a tall myth in my estimation," the professor concluded. "No one has any trace of his actual diaries or ship logs. Historically, I give him and his alleged expedition up the coast of California and eventually into Canadian waters no validity here. . . But that was a notable try, my boy."

Nicasio was silent. He was a now embarrassed for bringing up the mysterious mariner. It was true, he was indeed a long-shot without any published documentation to support his stories and legends.

The professor was probably right in insisting so, Nicasio finally thought. The most obvious candidates, as both men knew, were first Cabrillo and secondly Vizcaino. They were both explorers who were known to have sailed past the bluffs of Big Sur during the early days of California's map-making . And their journeys coincided with the approximate time the tholos would have been assembled.

Professor Simons then cleared his throat, as if preparing for a surprise.

"However . . . my own surprise of a candidate has substantial documentation as to his existence. In fact . . . many a scholar, young and old, have worked hard to further confirm his landfall on the California coast. Even the exact whereabouts of it. And this has been documented to be at a time just prior to the sixteenth century. Close enough that I'm afraid we must consider my suggestion seriously, Nicasio."

"Drake?"

Nicasio looked shocked. The professor had hit a nerve.

"Are you really suggesting Sir Francis Drake could have anything to do with this?"

"I don't know, Nicasio. What do you think? You're the scholar on the man's voyages."

Nicasio was further stunned.

"Yeah, OK . . . but 1579? He came through the area primarily in search Spanish plunder on ships and . . . . incidentally, professor. . . he was looking for the Northwest Passage. But . . . come on . . . there's no evidence Drake landed so far south of where my data or other scholars historically show him making landfall."

The professor was smiling back.

"But he has to be a candidate, my boy. Wouldn't you say so?"

Nicasio had to admit this. But it was the first time he even considered the pirate and English explorer to be anywhere linked to the phenomenon of the tholos.

"Alright Sir. But then . . . why the Spanish soldier buttons if Drake had a hand in this?

"My boy, Francis Drake, as an English privateer, combatant of the Spaniards, and amazing navigator. . . could have been up to anything. And with anyone. He was a pirate after all. Maybe he used his enemies while hostages . . . Spanish military prisoners under duress. Even Spanish soldiers for some extended mission he was on. Don't you agree? Possible?"

"Alright. . . but under whose orders?"

Nicasio's head was now reeling.

"Drake only took orders from his queen, Elizabeth I. And frankly. . . I just see this as a pretty remote theory, Professor."

Dr. Simons laughed out loud.

"Wow, Sir . . . don't even get me thinking about that . . . OK?"

"Sorry Nicasio. But we have to be thorough here. I actually thought of him immediately. And yes, it's a very bizarre theory. But this whole initial inquiry has led us further into a labyrinth of mystery. Hasn't it? We may be going even further into absurdity before we're through. We just need more hard facts at this point, that's all."

The professor, preparing to leave, suddenly stood up and stretched.

"Come on now, young man. Those facts are waiting for us now down the coast."

Nicasio remained motionless and disturbed-still reluctant to consider even the possibility of what the professor had proposed. Francis Drake associated with this Amazonian tomb mystery?

"Young man . . . I didn't mean to threaten your thesis. Your work . . . or even to alter your thinking on the Drake controversy. It's just that at this point in our investigation . . . anyone even remotely connected to that coastal area . . . and within our window of time . . . must be at least considered for conjecture."

The young scholar gathered his composure and was now standing too, ready to depart.

"As I said, Professor, the idea is pretty 'out there.' But for the record, I'll keep it in mind. I guess nothing surprises me anymore about this damn investigation."

* * *