This is the fourth in a series of occasional articles on the shared histories of Bermuda and the United States, which celebrates the 250th anniversary of its independence this year. The articles, by Heritage Matters author Edward Cecil Harris, will run throughout the year.

Last time, we left the incipient United States Citizens struggling with their landfall site at Jamestown, Virigina, enlivened perhaps by the food and wine brought unexpectedly in the spring of 1609 by one Captain Samuel Argall in his ship, the Mary and John.

It has been suggested that had not Argall arrived with the much needed grub, Jamestown would not have survived. Going back to Britain, Argall would return to Jamestown with the new governor, Thomas West, Baron De La War in the summer of 1610, after the Deliverance and Patience had arrived from Bermuda. It is from the time of Lord “Delaware” that the foundations of the English in North America were set in stone, or at least, timber palisades.

Captain Argall also brought news of a Third Supply fleet being assembled to bring more settlers and homesteading accoutrements for Jamestown. It is that convoy of nine vessels, but especially its flagship, Sea Venture, that is the present subject, along with the wrecking of that ship at Bermuda on July 28, 1609.

For comparison, just imagine you have alighted in Bermuda from a multimillion dollar Boeing 777 in a journey of a few short seven hours. Travelling light, you eschewed the delights of Oxford and Regent streets (except maybe the iStore) and marched straight through the airport, for you have (and Bermuda has) just about all you need for survival.

Go back 417 years and your trip with the Third Supply would take a mere seven weeks, or 170 times as long as your millionaire-funded London to Bermuda aircraft flight.

That long voyage in a small ship is packed with insects, victuals, people and all the necessaries for survival in lands which have little or nothing of your old world.

In addition, the vessel must carry enough food for the trans-Atlantic transit, although one presumes you could catch a wahoo, amberjack or tuna on the way. These ships could be seen as the forerunners of the military LST, which carried all provisions, personnel and machines necessary for a “Landing” on a hostile shore.

Until Captain Argall later suggested a shorter route due west to Virginia from the Azores, the traditional route from England to the central East Coast was to drop south to the Canaries or Madeira and then pick up the westerly winds, or trades, for West Indies and hence north on the Gulf Stream. The leg to the Caribbean is of course synonymous with the path of hurricanes arising off the west coast of the continent of Africa.

In early June, 1609, the Third Supply fleet of nine vessels slipped their moorings at Plymouth, having added the ship Blessing with six mares and two horses to the complement of some hundreds of settlers.

In addition to Sea Venture, the other ships, seldom mentioned, were the Lion, Falcon, Unitie, Diamond, Swallow, Catch and Virginia of the North Colony. Captain Archer of the Blessing wrote “our course commanded to leave the Canaries one hundred leagues to the eastward … and steer directly for Virginia”.

All went swimmingly well, so to speak, until Saint James Day, July 25, when “The Tempest of 1609“, a hurricane from West Indies, struck the fleet between the Bahamas and Bermuda.

The fleet was dispersed in the ensuing 48 hours of gales, rain and heavy seas, the Catch being utterly lost, while the Sea Venture limped unknowingly towards the eastern shores of Bermuda.

The Catch disaster came after some 30 souls “from two ships were thrown overboard with yellow fever”. The Sea Venture, though newly built, was leaking like a proverbial sieve, but Bermuda was sighted shortly after the hurricane abated and Captain Newport was able to ground the ship upright between two reefs.

The reception was not exactly, shall we say, St Regis, at “Discovery Bay”, but on the evening of Tuesday, 28 July, the saved complement of the Sea Venture was likely cooling out in the shade of palmettoes, with the air redolent of burning Bermuda cedar in campfires. The first Bermudians, if you will, had arrived, or were to do so shortly, namely, the island’s first “Anchor Babies”, except they sadly did not survive infancy.

• Dr Edward Harris is the founding executive director emeritus of the National Museum of Bermuda