Maps don't usually lie, but they can be incredibly stubborn. For centuries, cartographers dutifully inked a tiny speck of land called Bermeja into the Gulf of Mexico. It was supposed to be right there, sitting about 100 miles off the Yucatan Peninsula. Except, it isn't. When the Mexican government actually went looking for it to secure oil rights, they found nothing but open water. The journey of mysterious island Bermeja isn't just a tale of a missed turn or a bad drawing; it’s a geopolitical headache that involves billions of dollars in "black gold" and a fair bit of conspiracy.
You’ve probably seen those old-timey maps with sea monsters in the corners. Bermeja was more official than that. It first appeared in the Islario de todos las islas del mundo by Alonso de Santa Cruz back in 1539. It stayed on the charts for nearly 400 years. If you were a sailor in the 1700s, you’d treat that island as a factual landmark. Then, suddenly, it was gone.
The Hunt for a Ghost in the Gulf
In the late 1990s, the "journey of mysterious island" Bermeja took a turn from maritime curiosity to high-stakes political drama. The United States and Mexico were sitting down to carve up the "Doughnut Hole"—a region in the deep waters of the Gulf of Mexico that wasn't claimed by either country. It’s a place where the seafloor is basically paved with oil.
Under international law, your maritime borders are determined by how far out your land goes. If Bermeja existed, Mexico could claim a massive chunk of that oil-rich territory. If it didn't? The US got a lot more.
In 1997, the Mexican Navy sent out the Justo Sierra. They used GPS. They used sonar. They spent days crisscrossing the coordinates where the island was supposed to be ($22^{\circ} 33' N, 91^{\circ} 22' W$).
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They found nothing.
The water was about 130 feet deep. No peaks, no reefs, no sandbars. Just... blue.
Naturally, people freaked out. The Mexican Senate started asking questions. How does an island that has been on maps since the Spanish Empire just vanish? This is where the theories get wild. Some people honestly believe the CIA blew it up to expand American oil interests. While that sounds like a plot from a Tom Clancy novel, there is zero evidence of an underwater explosion or the kind of debris field you'd expect from a disappearing landmass.
Why Geography Is Harder Than It Looks
Basically, we have to look at how old maps were made. Navigators in the 16th century weren't using satellites; they were using dead reckoning and rudimentary tools. It's very likely that Bermeja was a "phantom island."
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Sometimes, sailors see a cloud bank on the horizon and swear it’s land. Other times, they see a "pumice raft"—a giant floating mass of volcanic rock—and mark it down as a permanent island. Once a reputable explorer puts a dot on a map, every other mapmaker copies it. They don't want to be the one who left off a navigation hazard and caused a shipwreck.
But Bermeja was different. It was described as "blondish" or "reddish" (hence the name, which relates to vermillion). This suggests people actually saw something.
Another possibility? Rising sea levels or tectonic shifts. But the Gulf of Mexico is relatively stable. For an island to sink 130 feet in a few centuries without a massive earthquake is geologically bizarre. Most scientists, like those from the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM) who conducted a massive search in 2009, think it was just a mistake that became "truth" through repetition.
The 2009 UNAM Expedition Findings
- Vessel used: The Justo Sierra (the same name as the previous ship).
- Technology: Multibeam echosounders and side-scan sonar.
- Result: Confirmed the seafloor was flat.
- Conclusion: The island never existed at those coordinates.
A Legacy of Doubt and Oil
Even after the 2009 search, some Mexican politicians weren't buying it. There’s a persistent belief that the "journey of mysterious island" Bermeja ended in a secret demolition. In 2000, the "Donut Hole" treaty was signed without Bermeja, and many felt Mexico got the short end of the stick.
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It’s easy to blame the CIA, but the reality is usually more boring. Cartographic error is a powerful thing. Look at Sandy Island in the Coral Sea. It was "undiscovered" in 2012 by a team of Australian scientists who realized their ship was sailing straight through what was supposed to be a solid landmass on Google Earth. If we can lose an island in the age of the internet, imagine how easy it was in 1539.
The journey of mysterious island Bermeja teaches us that our "known" world is still full of glitches. Whether it was a mirage, a floating pile of rocks, or a 500-year-old typo, its absence changed the borders of two nations.
How to Track Phantom Islands Yourself
If you’re fascinated by lands that aren't there, you don't need a boat. You just need some curiosity and the right digital tools.
- Compare Historical Archives: Use the David Rumsey Map Collection online. You can overlay 18th-century maps on modern Google Maps to see where islands like Bermeja or Saxemberg "used" to be.
- Check Bathymetric Data: Tools like Google Earth Pro allow you to see the topography of the ocean floor. If you look at Bermeja’s supposed coordinates, you’ll see the abyssal plain is suspiciously smooth.
- Read the UNESCO Reports: They track underwater cultural heritage and sunken sites. Sometimes what we think is a phantom island is actually a submerged settlement from a time when sea levels were lower.
- Visit the Archivo General de Indias: If you’re ever in Seville, this is where the original Spanish charts live. Seeing the ink for yourself makes the mystery feel a lot more real.
The maps are updated now. Bermeja is gone. But the "journey of mysterious island" remains a staple of maritime lore, reminding us that the ocean is very good at keeping secrets—and even better at swallowing them whole. To understand the current maritime boundaries in the Gulf, one must accept that some dots on the map were only ever written in sand.