Mariel Boatlift & The Columbia Restaurant

In April 1980, the flood of Cuban refugees continued for several weeks from the port of Mariel. Cubans fled in a desperate flotilla, and Fidel Castro let them go. Family members in the United States suddenly saw hope for relatives still living under the Communist yoke. A desperate boatlift ensued, often undertaken by shrimp trawlers and fishing boats of questionable seaworthiness.  

Tampa already was home to thousands of post-Castro refugees who staged loud demonstrations nightly around MacFarlane Park in West Tampa, Ybor's sister Latin quarter. Throngs of Cubans denounced Castro. Caravans of cars wound through the neighborhoods to rally support for Mariel's oppressed. The political fervor ran so high it concerned Tampa's older Cuban immigrants. The city's Latin community united to offer food, shelter, and jobs to 1,000 refugees.

Moved to take action, Cesar [Gonzmart , owner of Columbia Restaurant] announced that he planned to charter a ship to bring dissident Cubans safely to Florida. The response on the part of Tampa's recent Cuban refugees was overwhelming. They thronged the Columbia with their life savings in hand. Many nights of fundraising proved to be “hectic,” as Cesar described it. Tampa's struggling Nuevo Cubanos invested more than $400,000 into the venture. “People are coming in with fistfuls of bills,” Cesar told a reporter.  “The response has been so tremendous.” Adela [Cesar’s wife] thought Cesar's enterprise was a disaster in the making, a serious risk in the midst of the Columbia's own business struggles. Having been born in Cuba with family still there, Cesar thought the venture a worthy gamble.

Cesar himself threw in tens of thousands of dollars of his own money to bring Cubans freedom, a heavy investment with no certainty of success. But it was a risk worth taking for Cesar and about 1,500 other Tampa Cubans.

When a former band mate called Cesar to buy passage for 27 relatives, he asked how much it would cost. “To you,” Cesar replied reassuringly, “nothing.” The band mate insisted on paying his way: $210 per person.  

Cesar chartered Anaqua, a one-time banana boat, to evacuate as many people as possible. He also hired the small Panamanian liner Rio Indio for $340,000, hoping to shuttle 2,000 people to Key West.  Tampa's Cubans funneled all of their hopes and passions into the Anaqua and Rio Indio. Adela was furious that her husband had gambled on such a grand scale.

Cesar aroused hope where little existed, but hope can be more painful than despair.  He begged the Red Cross for a doctor and supplies for his vessels, which it denied. When the Anaqua was about to embark, a freighter crashed into a piling of the Sunshine Skyway bridge, causing it to collapse and clutter the channel. On the second embarkation, the Coast Guard did not permit the Anaqua to set out, citing safety regulations. Hundreds of Cuban investors crowded the Columbia, desperate for good news. Cesar allayed their fears: He had a new plan.   

The Panamanian liner Rio Indio looked promising and could carry far more people. The Cuban Port Authority had already granted the vessel permission to dock. The ship could ferry about 15,000 refuges during its month of service.

Success seemed certain until a thunderbolt came from Washington on May 14- President Jimmy Carter ordered the boatlift to end after 44,000 refugees swarmed Florida's shores. The incident allowed Cuban dictator Fidel Castro to rid himself of political prisoners and undesirables while straining resources in the Unites States.  

The President's statement ended the boatlift. Most people foretold failure for Cesar's evacuation efforts, but he insisted he'd find a way. He faced a tense, worried, and unruly gathering of investors at the Columbia. Some asked for refunds, but the money was already tied up in chartering the vessels.  

Cesar left aboard Rio Indio for Cuba without taking a delegation of Tampeños,  and the investors started to panic. He instead paid for the delegation to travel to Grand Cayman by air and board the Rio Indio there. He hoped to dodge any U.S. jurisdiction by embarking from a foreign port. The ploy did not work. No other nation volunteered to accept any refugees taken aboard.

Rio Indio docked at Mariel harbor. A Cuban officer halted the loading operation as it began. Unbeknownst to Cesar, the U.S. government had pressured Panama to revoke the ship's charter, prohibiting trade of any kind. Cesar fruitlessly sought a charter from another country- “any flag that's available,” he said- and even looked for another ship. The vessel was useless without international cooperation, and the venture was a complete loss. The Rio Indio alone cost $340,000. Together with the Anaqua and travel expenses, little remained of the approximately $420,000 Cesar had raised. He gave $80,000 back to investors.

“What can I tell you?” a disappointed Cesar said. “After struggling since the beginning of May, I don't know how I continue. I feel very sad. Only God and Fidel Castro have the ultimate word on whether people will leave Cuba.”  

The investors took out their rage on Cesar and the Columbia.  Unable to retrieve their relatives, they demanded their money back.  Some blamed Cesar for the failure ultimately caused by a breakdown of international relations.  Whenever he came to the restaurant, people hounded him, women clutched him, and onlookers hurled rumors and threats. Some said they'd burn the Columbia down, or eat meals and refuse to pay.

During the initial excitement of the venture, Cesar gave Richard's [Cesar’s son] home phone number to Hispanic radio stations. At home with her daughters, Melanie [Richard’s wife]  coped with incessant telephone calls, and every voice cried in Spanish.    

In a business slump himself, Cesar couldn't hope to pay everyone back.  Rumors swirled that he had raised more than $600,000 and pocketed some of it.  He claimed to have lost $82,000 of his own money in the venture. Richard said to the press: “My father has lost 25 pounds and countless nights of sleep over this.” He also lost the confidence of Tampa's Nuevo Cubanos.  

A lawsuit filed by Cesar's old band mate grated on for the next two years.  Testifying in court, Cesar said, “I felt completely destroyed that I couldn't help these people who wanted so desperately to get their families out.” He presented documentary evidence that he had spent the money on chartering the ships. The judge cleared Cesar of any wrongdoing.  

Looking back, he said, “For the first time in my life, I felt completely defeated.  I was extremely depressed for three months. The Mariel boat problem was one of my Don Quixote episodes.” He vowed to avoid politics in the future. Don Quixote may have fallen from his horse, but he rode again.

Featured in Cigar City - Issue 25 - Nov/Dec 2009

On November 10, 2009, University Press of Florida released “The Columbia Restaurant: Celebrating a Century of History, Culture, and Cuisine,” an illustrated history of the restaurant and cookbook by Andrew T. Huse. The following article is an excerpt from the book.