Context: The Confederation Report
Host: Steven R. Martins
Language: English
John Cabot (c. 1450 –c. 1499), born Giovanni Caboto in Venice, was a merchant and visionary whose ambition carried him from the Mediterranean world to the cold, uncharted waters of the North Atlantic. Backed by King Henry VII of England, his 1497 voyage—though aimed at finding a passage to Asia—instead led to the first documented English landing in North America, likely along the coast of “tierras labradas”, Newfoundland or Labrador. While his journey yielded no gold or spices, it opened the door to centuries of transatlantic exploration and commerce, laying the foundation for England’s future claims in the New World and marking a pivotal shift in the history of European expansion.
Intro (00:00-00:21)
John Cabot: Explorer Between Worlds (00:22-11:10)
John Cabot, a Venetian-born dreamer turned English explorer, charted a daring course across the Atlantic in 1497 that, though aimed at Asia, laid the first English claim to North America and helped shift the axis of European exploration forever.
Announcement (11:11-13:05)
The Confederation Report, hosted by Steven Martins of the Cántaro Institute, is expanding its uniquely Christian analysis of Canadian news and culture with new historical vignettes and a broadened scope—urging listeners to look to the past with biblical clarity and support the mission at www.cantaroinstitute.org/give
Event Reminder (13:06-13:30)
Join us for the Niagara Conference, All Hail the King: Christ & Government on November 14–15, 2025, in Welland, Ontario, with Rev. Doug Wilson, Dr. Scott Masson, Dr. Michael Wagner, and myself. Register now at cantaroinstitute.org/niagara2025 for early bird rates!
Transcript:
This special episode of The Confederation Report, part of the “Early Narratives” sub-series, is made possible by the generous supporters of the Cántaro Institute.
John Cabot: Explorer Between Worlds (00:22-11:10)
Before he was “John Cabot,” he was Zuan Chabotto, a name scribbled in Venetian records in 1476. A merchant, a developer, perhaps even a dreamer, Giovanni Caboto’s life would defy simple telling. His was an era of shifting empires, dangerous voyages, and mystical maps—a time when the world itself was being redrawn. Though history remembers him for a single daring voyage in 1497, Cabot’s story spans bustling Mediterranean ports, failed engineering dreams, the court intrigues of Spain and England, and a stubborn hope that across the Atlantic lay a gateway to Asia. What he discovered instead was something else entirely.
A Merchant of Venice
Born sometime before 1450, Giovanni Caboto grew up in a world of trade. Venice, with its mercantile wealth and sprawling influence, offered countless opportunities for a man with wit and ambition. By 1476, he had earned the right of Venetian citizenship, a status requiring fifteen years of residence. He was married to a Venetian woman named Mattea, and together they had three sons. His commercial ventures were varied: he traded hides, sold a slave in Crete (which is as despicable as it sounds), and dabbled in real estate development in both Venice and Chioggia.
Cabot’s early life, though prosperous, would soon be overtaken by debt. By 1488, he fled Venice, pursued by creditors. He and his family disappeared from public record for a time. When he resurfaced, it was in Valencia, Spain, another city of water and wealth.
Spanish Schemes and Unfulfilled Dreams
In Valencia, Cabot dreamed big. He partnered with a Basque merchant named Gaspar Rull and proposed constructing an artificial harbour for the city. Their idea caught the attention of none other than King Fernando of Aragon, who, along with Queen Isabel of Castile, had just dispatched Christopher Columbus on his fateful journey across the Atlantic. With royal encouragement, Cabot tried to secure funding for the harbour, but by March 1493, the project collapsed under the weight of cost and skepticism.
Undeterred, Cabot appeared in Seville the following year, pitching another grand idea: building a fixed bridge linking the city to its maritime center on the island of Triana. The proposal came at a pivotal time. Columbus had returned from his voyage, mistakenly believing he had reached Asia, and Seville was emerging as Spain’s Atlantic trade hub. If Cabot’s bridge succeeded, it would be more than infrastructure—it would be a gateway to empire.
But once again, execution failed to match ambition. By December 1494, Seville’s leading citizens were outraged at Cabot’s lack of progress and demanded that he be banished. Whether he left voluntarily or under pressure, Cabot slipped out of view once again.
The English Gamble
Cabot’s next act began in England. On March 5, 1496, King Henry VII granted him and his sons letters patent authorizing them to sail under the English flag in search of unknown lands “not possessed by any Christian prince.” This grant was unusual. Cabot was a foreigner with no known maritime record, no proven track record of navigation or command. But perhaps Henry, hearing of Cabot’s contacts, ambition, and mysterious engineering past, saw potential. Or perhaps Cabot, during his hidden years of 1493 to 1494, had indeed joined Columbus’s second voyage as an engineer.
Regardless of the king’s reasoning, Cabot was empowered. The patent allowed him to outfit up to five ships at his own expense and to claim land in the king’s name. The venture attracted the attention of financiers. The powerful Bardi family, Florentine merchants with interests across Europe, provided funding for a voyage “to the new land.” These backers likely expected Cabot to find more than just cod—perhaps gold, silks, spices, and a route to Asia.
First Voyage: Failure at Sea
Cabot’s first voyage in 1496 ended in failure. Departing from Bristol, England’s westernmost port and a known base for Atlantic ventures, Cabot set sail into the turbulent waters of the North Atlantic. But the journey was ill-fated. Fierce storms and possibly the limitations of medieval sailing technology forced him back. No firsthand records remain of this voyage; only whispers in merchant letters and disappointed financiers remind us that Cabot had tried, and failed.
Yet failure did not stop the man.
Second Voyage: Landfall
In May 1497, Cabot tried again. Aboard a small ship called the Matthew, with a crew of perhaps 18 to 20 men, he set out once more from Bristol. The Matthew was no grand vessel—by modern standards, barely more than a large fishing boat. Its name may have been chosen in honour of Cabot’s wife, Mattea.
No logbook survives, and no names of the crew are recorded. All reports of this voyage are second-hand, and for centuries the world knew of it only through hearsay. Yet what we do know is remarkable.
Cabot made landfall, likely along the shores of northern Newfoundland or southern Labrador. A letter by Hugh Say, a London merchant—later unearthed in Spanish archives—indicates that Cabot’s crew spotted figures on shore—perhaps the Beothuk of Newfoundland or the Innu of Labrador—but they were too afraid to investigate. They stayed close to the coast, never venturing more than a crossbow’s shot inland.
Cabot and his men returned with a bow painted in red ochre, a snare for catching game, and a needle for mending nets—simple, but culturally rich artifacts. They spoke of “tierras labradas”, or “tilled lands,” which may have inspired the name Labrador. Some claimed the land Cabot found was the legendary Brasil island or even the Isle of Seven Cities, mythical lands long thought to lie west of Europe.
But Cabot’s most significant report wasn’t about gold or temples—it was about fish. Cod, in numbers no European had ever imagined. So dense were the schools of fish that, according to Cabot, they could be caught in baskets lowered into the sea. This would later be confirmed by other mariners: the Grand Banks were teeming with cod, a resource that would support centuries of fishing fleets.
In December 1497, Henry VII rewarded Cabot with a royal pension and renewed his patent, permitting him to equip up to six larger vessels. The king even invested in one of them directly, signaling a high degree of royal interest.
The Lost Voyage
In May 1498, a flotilla of five ships left England under Cabot’s command. Their mission was to explore further west and south, perhaps even to find the long-sought passage to Asia. What followed is one of history’s enduring mysteries.
For years, it was believed the entire expedition was lost at sea. Chronicler Polydore Vergil reported as much, and this view prevailed. But a map by Juan de la Cosa, a Spanish cartographer and companion of Columbus, tells a different story. Completed in 1500, de la Cosa’s map shows parts of North America labeled with English flags and names, and includes the notation: “the sea discovered by the English.” This strongly suggests that at least one of Cabot’s ships returned—and that they reached as far south as modern-day New England or Long Island.
Cabot himself, however, vanishes from the historical record. His pension continued until 1499, but it may have been collected by his wife or sons. Whether he died at sea, succumbed to illness upon return, or lived out his final years in obscurity is unknown.
Legacy and Impact
Though Cabot found no gold, spices, or passage to Asia, his 1497 voyage became the cornerstone of England’s claim to North America. At the time, few appreciated the significance of what he had done. His own interests, and those of his backers, lay in commerce, not cartography. The New World they stumbled upon was seen as a barrier to Asia, not a destination in itself.
Yet Cabot’s discoveries would open a door for others. English, French, and Portuguese fishermen flocked to the Grand Banks for centuries. His son, Sebastian Cabot, would also become an explorer, continuing his father’s ambitions and contributing to early European understandings of the North American coast.
Cabot’s voyages marked a turning point in European exploration. They shifted the axis of exploration from southern Spain and Portugal to northern Europe and helped sow the seeds of English imperial expansion. Though overshadowed by Columbus and da Gama, John Cabot’s contribution remains foundational to the history of Canada, the Atlantic fishery, and the early English presence in the New World.
“He that would sail into the west must turn his back to the sun,” the old sailors used to say. John Cabot did just that. And in doing so, he turned Europe’s eyes toward a continent that, while not the Asia of his dreams, would become the center of new empires, new nations, and new hopes.
Announcement (11:11-13:05)
Thank you for listening to The Confederation Report. My name is Steven Martins, Director of the Cántaro Institute. You’ve just heard the first of several upcoming historical vignettes—part of a new sub-series of our podcast called Early Narratives. If we’re committed to advancing the Christian worldview—fulfilling the cultural mandate, exercising godly dominion, and cultivating creation into a faithful civilization—then we need to look to past examples, learn from man’s historical missteps, approach our cultural moment with biblical clarity, and embrace our history rather than revise it.
Since launching The Confederation Report earlier this year, we’ve established a steady and growing listener base. Now, we’re preparing to broaden our scope and diversify our content. What sets this podcast apart is its distinctly Christian analysis of Canadian news and culture—something still rare in the Canadian podcasting landscape. We know we’re not the only ones, but voices like ours are few and far between—and we intend to stay the course.
So, if we’re staying the course, what does expansion look like? The Confederation Report will remain the weekly flagship podcast of the Cántaro Institute, delivering sharp analysis, cultural commentary, and compelling interviews on the issues shaping Canadian life and beyond—all through the lens of a biblical worldview, hosted by yours truly.
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Event Reminder (13:06-13:30)
Join us for the Niagara Conference, All Hail the King: Christ & Government on November 14–15, 2025, in Welland, Ontario, with Rev. Doug Wilson, Dr. Scott Masson, Dr. Michael Wagner, and myself. Register now at cantaroinstitute.org/niagara2025 for early bird rates!
Until next time.
Documentation & Additional Reading
The Canadian Encyclopedia (Douglas Hunter)
Article: John Cabot
Charles Raymond Beazley, John and Sebastian Cabot: The Discovery of North America (USA: Westholme Publishing, 2015).