Turns out, Bermuda was a fortunate place to be shipwrecked. “There was so much food,” says Outerbridge, with hogs running wild (likely left by Spanish explorers a century prior), birds so tame they could easily be caught, plus turtles and their eggs.”

Some crew members built smaller vessels from Bermudian cedar and sailed on to Virginia. Others stayed, becoming skilled shipbuilders. Bermudian sloops sailed as far as India, prized for their speed and ahead-of-their-time design. Built from that valuable cedar, their raked masts and triangular mainsails later influenced the shape of most modern sailboats. The island’s maritime legacy runs through its limestone bones — something apparent above and below the surface.

During my dive to the Cristóbal Colón wreck site, I’m surprised by how eerily well-preserved it remains. We dart between boilers, peep into portholes and hover beside an overturned bathtub in the sand. From below, the upturned hull could be mistaken for a roof shingled with lavender and sage-coloured tiles.

“Coraline algae acts like glue,” explains my divemaster, Britney Ireland of Dive Bermuda, when we surface 40 minutes later. “On a reef, it’ll grow on top of other corals, making a big patch. It does the same with the wreck, making it one big unit so it doesn’t move.”

“We had ghosts coming out of the bottle,” laughs Ramsay-Brackstone. “We all have those romantic ideas of things smelling good, but this had seen better years.” Through reverse engineering, they recovered the scent’s original notes of grapefruit, rose and neroli. New bottles, inspired by the shipwrecked version, are packaged in locally made cedar boxes to keep this treasure safe.

Above ground, there’s more to uncover. I join guide Dale Burgess of Hidden Gems of Bermuda for a trek through Tom Moore’s Jungle, sauntering beneath a canopy of Surinam cherry trees whose leaves act as natural bug repellent. “Stuff a branch in your hair or tuck it inside your ankle socks to ward off bites,” advises Burgess.

With leaves stuffed in socks, we walk mosquito-free through reddish-brown soil, tinted by iron ferrite carried from the Sahara during hurricanes and blown across the Atlantic. Beneath us lies a hidden world of ancient limestone chambers once used by smugglers and as refuge for escaped enslaved people. We slip off the trail and into a natural cave, resplendent with ivory stalagmites and drip-by-drip stalactites that have formed over millions of years.

“They grow an inch per hundred years,” says Burgess. “If water dripping from a stalactite hits you, it’s called a cave kiss.”

The next day, I return to the water on a guided snorkel tour with the Living Reef Foundation, partnered with Rosewood Bermuda. The foundation grows and tests techniques to propagate coral, relocating mature corals to ocean-based nurseries to protect key island infrastructure. 

After an educational seaside chat about Bermuda’s coral reef system (decimated by post-Second World War construction), we embark on a leisurely snorkel to Coral Gardens in Castle Harbour. Floating above the underwater gardens, I spot pyramid-shaped frames tiled with the hatched coral. Older frames show colonies merging and spreading.

“Each week when temperatures are high,” says our guide and foundation head, Samia Sarkis, “we snorkel in with a toothbrush and tweezers to remove algae so these young corals can grow and survive.”

Though I didn’t help grow the coral myself, simply joining the tour to support the effort feels meaningful. Visitors can also adopt a coral garden.