The True Tale of Tomasito and the Pirate’s Cave

Long ago, in the time of pirates and hidden gold, there was a fisher boy named Tomasito or Little Thomas. He lived in a hut on the northwest side of the island of Curaçao and his job was to gut and scale the fish at the Playa Piskado dock for the town folk. It was hard work with little pay. Tomasito spent his time thinking about how he could earn enough money to buy own his own boat and go out to sea with the other men.

One day, he overheard an old, toothless man with a long beard down to his feet whispering to the fishermen.

“You know where the Manchineel tree leans over the cliff on the north side of Playa Kalki on the way to Watamula ” the man began, “You will find a pool at the bottom of a deep cave. And I tell you as I live and breath, there is a trove of gold there belonging to pirate Black Caesar. It sits at the bottom of that there water.”

”But beware,” he warned as he slowly looked over at Tomasito, “Black Caesar was a brutal man and the spirit of the cave that he has forced to guard his treasure does not take kindly to intruders.”

Tomasito pretended that he was not listening but his heart was pounding with excitement. That very evening, he prepared for an adventure. He was sure that by this time next week he would be buying his own fishing boat.

Taking a rope and a lantern from the dock, he made his way to Watamula, where the old Manchineel tree leaned over the rocky cliff. There, just as the old fisherman had said, he found a cave—wide and deep, with walls of jagged stone disappearing into darkness. Waves crashed nearby, and the wind howled as if whispering secrets of the deep. Without hesitation, Tomasito tied his rope to a sturdy rock, gripped it tightly, and began his descent into this hidden chamber carved by the sea itself.

There, at its very heart, Tomasito found the pool of water, small and perfectly round. The pool gleamed like liquid silver, shimmering as though a light danced inside it. Tomasito approached, his footsteps echoing loudly in the still night. He knelt beside the pool and gazed into its depths.

At first, by the light of his lantern, he saw only his reflection, but then he noticed something glinting at the bottom—something gold. His breath quickened. His heart pounded. “The treasure!” he whispered, leaning closer.

But as his fingers reached into the water, the pool began to ripple. The light grew brighter, and a ghostly pirate figure rose from the water, its form appeared like mist but his large cutlass gleamed as if with blood.

“You, who seek what is not yours,” Black Ceasar’s cave spirit cried, its voice cold like the crash of a wave, “This pool is no place for mortal hands. I am the spirit of the tides, keeper of gold. You have disturbed my rest, and now you shall sleep.”

Before Tomasito could remove his hand from the cold pond, the water surged upward, covering him like a flowing veil. The light from his lantern flickered and died, and the boy collapsed on the cold stone floor. The spirit sang softly, a song of the sea, as Tomasito fell into a deep, enchanted sleep.

The tides came and went, flowing into the pool and retreating again, carrying the spirit’s power with them. For twenty long years, Tomasito lay at the bottom of the cave, forgotten by time.

When the spell at last broke, Tomasito awoke. His body was stiff and weary, and his hair was now gray and wiry. A beard had grown down to his feet. His body was all but a skeleton. There was not one tooth left in his head. What remained of his clothing was crusted with barnacles like a sequin robe.

He slowly climbed back out of the cave. The world he now saw had changed. There were strange houses built around the cave. Instead of horses in the street, there were monsters with round wheels. The age of pirates had passed, and no one spoke of buried gold anymore.

From that time, the cave near Watamula became known as Tomasito Cave. Little Thomas spent the rest of his years at the Playa Piskado dock. Sometimes whispering to strangers about the spirit that guarded the pool and the treasure was still there, glimmering at the bottom.