Things pick up slightly on the high seas, where screenwriters Mario Puzo, John Briley and Cary Bates brazenly invent sabotaging villains and mutiny attempts. On the far side of the Atlantic, where the story should really get interesting, director John Glen trots out the usual bevy of bare-breasted native women, hints at the degradations the Spanish wreaked on the Indians and hops back to Spain for a hollowly triumphant conclusion. What are we left with? A characterless movie that seems to have been made for no better reason than the marketing ploy of a 500th anniversary. What’s noticeably absent is the vision thing.