Mariel By Andy Huse
On November 10, 2009, University Press of Florida will release “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.
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 48
CIGAR CITY MAGAZINE
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.