The Adventures and Misadventures of the Extraordinary and Admirable Joan Orpí, Conquistador and Founder of New Catalonia

by Max Besora

As the sailors and apprentice sailors herded onboard goats, hens, and other animals destined to feed the crew, they trafficked in ropes and assured the right of cabotage before setting sail. Our hero, unaccustomed to the hustle and bustle on deck, then approached the ship’s captain, Ninus Mandarinus, who was smoking a pipe in front of a map held open on a desk by an astrolabe and a compass, contemplating it all with the passiveness of authority.

  “Prithee, milord & captain, dost thou know if this ship will be moving a lot?” he asked in heavily accented Spanish.

  “What dost thou expect, ya greenhorn! Already catting80 before pushing off?” said the captain. “Marededéu de Montserrat…”

  “Egads,” said Gregorio when he heard the captain’s exclamation. “Art thou a Catalan?”

  “Yes and no. I was born in León but worked in the port of Barcelona for many a twelvemonth,” he said, fiddling with an astrolabe that allowed him to calculate the route to Terra Firma. “But don’t go around saying that there are Catalans on these ships, it doesn’t go over well at all with the guys from Castille. And thine name be … ?”

  “Juan … I mean … Gregorio … Gregorio Izquierdo, soldier at Your Majesty’s service,” said our hero, finding the new name that had been forced on him strange in his mouth. He touched the letter from Úrsula Pendregast, which had turned our hero into another man.

  Suddenly, a deckhand who had just turned the small hourglass that counted out the half hours, began to sing.

  Haul on the bowline, the old man is a-growlin,

  Haul on the bowline, the bowline Haul!

  Haul on the bowline, so early in the mornin’

  Haul on the bowline, the bowline Haul!

  Haul on the bowline, it’s a far cry to payday,

  Haul on the bowline, the bowline Haul!

  And thus, on that cool, clear morning in 1623, the fleet lifted anchors followed by a deafening boom of cannons that echoed through the dirty streets of Seville’s port district, frightening off a cluster of pigeons, while the sailors hoisted sails as they sang in unison: Bu-iza, bu-iza!, and a crowd of the curious watched from the wharf as the galleons were set in motion. The Argos, bedecked with banners and pennants of the Crown, followed the fleet, with the admiral at the bow, along the Guadalquivir River, dodging the hellish traffic of warships, frigates, galleys, merchant barges and fishing schooners that came and went. And that was also how, reluctantly, Joan Orpí—ah, make that Gregorio Izquierdo—set forth on a long sea voyage that would take him far from the Old World, to a distant and uncertain future, a place where many went but from which few returned. And if by chance readers want to know how his adventure continues, they must keep reading, in this new Chapter which features new vim and vigor.

  ___________

  78. i.e. cleaned and greased

  79. i.e. provisions

  80. i.e. Sea-sickness in the pidgin language used by sailors of the period.

  Chapter XI

  On how Gregorio Izquierdo, aboard a ship, discovers the brutality of life

  The Argos traveled down the Guadalquivir, passing the dangerous sandbar at Sanlúcar de Barrameda, ascending along a narrows, and then heading into the open sea. Only then did the hull star to really move; it wasn’t properly ballasted because all the cargo was up top. The ship was leaning this way and that: hens, shoes, sacks of grain, drums of water (and rum), everything rolled up and down the deck. The boat’s pump worked tirelessly to keep the water level down, but that didn’t stop the entire hold from giving off a pestilent odor. Soon, the heat, the cramped quarters, all the people and the smell from the bilge created an unbearably noisome stench.

  Among the crew there were three Capuchin friars from Toledo and a Jesuit priest with a dingy cassock by the name of Pere Claver,81 who incessantly read his worn out copy of Ignatius of Loyola’s Spiritual Exercises, two agents of the Crown from Madrid, three cargadores,82 two caballeros de industria or soldiers of fortune, and a whole cast of characters from all over the map: Sicilians, Napolitans, Aragonese, Andalusians, who didn’t believe in virgins or saints, motherless adventurers, single gals in search of a pedigreed husband, converso and “reconciled” Jews, heretics, apostates, Lutherans, foreigners, convicted murderers (who’d perhaps been granted amnesty), forgers, adulterers, traitors, perjurers, criadas83 and a bevy of llovidos84 passing themselves off as pureblooded Christians. In other words, all the scum and undesirables for whom there was no place on the Peninsula were now settling in as best they could into that wooden world, some packed in right on top of the others in a sizeable tangle of legs and feet.

  The ocean voyage turned out to be a true ordeal, despite the best efforts of the extremely capable Captain Miruelo, grandson of the famous captain of the same name who had led the first voyages of the most famous conquistadors. The hold was so cramped that burps, vomits, and farts mixed in a nauseating symphony. The rats were right at home amid the feet of people sleeping on the floor, and sometimes bit the random ear. The lucky folk slept in some sort of sacks suspended in the air, called chinchorros,85 an invention from the New World, but that only amplified the swaying to and fro. There was no escaping that floating prison.

  Gregorio Izquierdo and Martulina were among the less fortunate, since, being some of the last to board, they’d had to settle for a spot on the bilge, where water seeped in through the holes in the poorly caulked vessel. Add to that, dear reader, the diabolical rocking of the waves and you can easily imagine that what spurted from the crew’s black mouths wasn’t precisely words. And while that floating city was supplied with pork and beef, cheese, olive oil, garlic, fava beans, yams, vinegar, sugar, Mexican chili pepper, honey, dried fruits and nuts, and water, no one on the crew would have dared to taste even a bit of bread on that gyrating vessel, not for all the gold in the world.

  “This boat stinks of death,” said our hero. “Its air be vile and pestilent.”

  “Indeed, this mare coagulatum has little in common with dear mare nostrum,” concluded Martulina.

  After a few days of sailing, the nausea lessened and everyone seemed to have grown used to the ship’s rocking back and forth. One evening, the valet lit the deck lanterns that illuminated the binnacle, as well as an improvised altar. Being that it was Saturday, it was time for the group prayer. One of the friars delivered the Christian doctrine for the entire crew, hats in hands.

  “Pater Noster, Ave Maria, Credo, Salve Regina.”

  Then the shipwright said, “Art we all here?”

  “May God be with us,” said the Capuchin.

  “Star of the Sea, guide our voyage,” stated the shipwright. “Guide our voyage, Star of the Sea.”

  Then they all started to joyously sing the Hail Mary and other litanies. Some sailors played their lutes and tambourines, and some crewmembers were inspired to sing prayers and dance between the main mast and the quarterdeck of that small floating city with comical pomposity, while others played flux (with marked cards) and yet others organized cock fights. Of all the passengers, it was our hero who had made the best use of his time over those ten days.

  “Martulina, I’ve been reading Aethiopica by Heliodorus, The Travels of Sir John Mandeville, and The Description of the World by Marco Polo,” said Gregorio Izquierdo, sitting on one of the cannons on deck. “And I hath reach’d a conclusion: once I akquireth my part of the original Gregorio Izquierdo’s treasure, I’m going to write travel books and descrybe all the marvells of this world.”

  “But half of those books art lies!” exclaimed Martulina.

  “Not lies. Alonso Pinciano articulates it in a rather more favourable light, in his Philosophia antigua Poetica, whence he speaks of literature, saying … that the object is neither to lie, which would coincide with sophistry, nor is the object history, which would leade the material toward the historic; and, neither being history, because of a proximity to fables, nor lies, because of a proximity to history, the object must be verisimilitude which embraceth all. The resulting art is superior to metaphysics, for it c
ontains much more and extends to what is and what is not.”

  “Don’t lecture me, Orpinet, I get dizzy just hearing thee …”

  And that was the end of that oh-so intellectual conversation between the two friends, because suddenly a strong eastern wind kicked up, as the Argos turned toward the southwest, near the African coast, and then toward the west, and the Canary Islands. With the ship’s rocking, the nausea returned as fast as it had disappeared. And with it the vomiting and diarrhea. But we’ll abstain from any further commentary on that gastronomical affair and move right along to the next Chapter.

  ___________

  81. i.e. Pere Claver (1580-1654) was a Catalan Jesuit missionary who fought against slavery in the Americas.

  82. i.e. merchants

  83. i.e. prostitutes

  84. i.e. Those traveling without a royal permit.

  85. i.e. hammocks

  Chapter XII

  In which our hero falls in love for the first time in his life, with a damsel with an extremely long name

  After sailing for seven days, the Argos stopped at the island of Lanzarote, an obligatory sojourn, along with the rest of the fleet. The apprentices climbed the riggings to let down the sails and roll them up, singing happily, pleased to spend a night in port before setting back out into the open ocean sea, toward America, and the crew disembarked to stretch their legs and buy staples before the long voyage.

  From the stern, Gregorio Izquierdo contemplated the hustle and bustle of the port as he chewed on an apple. Then he watched as, amid the havoc of people boarding and disembarking, a pedigreed woman boarded, dressed in fine clothes with a red velvet bodice, colorful embroidered silks, and a damask overskirt studded with silver and covered with a mantilla of white-blonde lace. She was riding a white donkey and kept the flies off with a fan in the Sevillian style, followed by a servant with thick hair cut in straight bangs and a lady-in-waiting with a peeved expression. Seeing her, Gregorio fell in love at first sight. Leaping on deck, he asked the first sailor he found who that princess was.

  “She be no princess, she’s a noblewoman of known lineage and engaged to be wed,” replied the sailor. “Her name is Doña María Fernanda Esmeralda Brunilda Isegarda Sigismunda Regenta Magdalena Grande de los Cerros Medianos de la Onza, third daughter of the Governor of Tenerife, also known as ‘The Nun’ for her chaste, pure reputation. But take heed, she art accompanied by her fearsome, mannish dueña86, named Olga, who won’t let any man near her.”

  The next morning, the Argos lifted anchors followed by two more Spanish caravelles, and the fleet entered the vast Atlantic, heading southwest to the sixteenth parallel, where the winds would push the boats toward the Lesser Antilles. As the ship rocked with a gentle sway, our hero could only think about being alone with Doña María, who was followed everywhere she went by the enormous Olga, her equally enormous shadow keeping the maiden safe from lascivious gazes and attempts by the sailors and officers to proposition her.

  One evening, when Gregorio was wandering about on deck, he heard a sweet voice singing from the ship’s stern. There he went and there he found Doña María, sitting alone and melancholy, reciting in half-song a poem by Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz.

  But where does mine sweet fondness

  For mine native land carry

  Mine thoughts and divert

  Mee from my subjecte?

  Our hero, after making quite sure that the fearsome Olga was nowhere nearby, approached her and, continuing the poem of Sor Juana, declaimed:

  “I daresay that mine intent be none other

  milady, than to prostrate myself

  at thine soles that I kiss

  despite so many seas.”

  “Who goes there?” asked Doña María, confused by his sudden appearance.

  “Merely a well-read soldier,” said Gregorio. “But one thing be sure: a voice such as thine, those eyes the color of the heavens and thy pearly white teeth, milady, be worth more than the entire ocean and all its fish bathed in gold.”87

  “Pish posh!” exclaimed the lady, fanning herself.

  “What brings a distinguished lady such as thineself to a place such as this?”

  “I wish’d to be a nun but couldn’t bear the thought of being locked up in a convent. Then I wish’d to be an actress and sing aria in the grand theaters of Europe, but didn’t have the requisite voice talent. As a girl I was only taught how to be a wife. As suche, I am headed to America to marry.”

  “I hath heard telle that in those lands there be spiders as big as thine lovely head,” said our hero, inching closer to the lady.

  “Deer mee … that’s horrid!” she exclaimed, making room for him where she was seated, as she nervously rubbed at a small stain on her skirt, which didn’t actually exist.

  “And terryble fish they call ‘shark,’ with jaws big as a donkey’s that gobble up menne two by two,” he continued, putting his arm around her.

  “The horror!” she said, removing the arm.

  “And plagues of ynsects what rip your skin off in strips,” Gregorio went on, stroking Doña María’s hand.

  “Stop it!” she shrieked, with a slight chuckle. “With all these monsters I shant be able to sleep tonight!”

  “They’ve also discover’d the tomato, the yam, and the prickly pear, which are very ambrosial foodstuffs,” he said, trying to kiss her. “Almost as tasty as your lips, milady.”

  “Go no further, insipid soldier, I don’t even know thine name!” she pulled away, acting offended but still playing along.

  “Mine name be Jua—Gregorio Izquierdo, but since meeting thee, oh, Lady María!, I am aflame with love and sickness, whych are but one and the selfsame,” said our hero, and, following that briefest of incursions into the territory of more intimate feelings, kissed the woman’s hand. “Thine beauty, thine Christianity, and thine honor art worthy of a queen, a queen of this world and the plus ultra.”

  “Take it eazy, soldier boy!” she said, pulling away her hand as one of her shoes slipped off and fell to the floor, whether in error or feigned error it was not clear. “I am on mine way to the Americas to enter into an arranged marriage with a criollo nobleman, the son of a conquistador. He may be ugly, but he shant be poor.”

  “What goode be money without love?” he declared, picking up her shoe. “On all my travells round the sun, and travels through hell, I ne’er saw such solemn beauty as I doth now see befor me. These must be love’s deliriums, what maketh me see such perfect loveliness.”

  “Ah, thou art verily a snake charmer! Thine focus is on conquering women, not landes and treasure troves!” she exclaimed, blushing with modesty and lifting her overskirt to her knees so that Gregorio could put her shoe on her foot. “However, thou must desist in thine aspirations of unbridled concupiscence toward me, for they be neither decent nor decorous.”

  “Very well. Then yf I cannot have the tempting fyre of thine love,” he said, clambering up onto a ledge and preparing to leap overboard, “I shall end mine life this instant!”

  “Madman … !” she shrieked, grabbing him by the pantaloons.

  “Twixt decorum and fervour, what law be more just than the law of love?” said our hero, pretending he was about to throw himself into the ocean. “Fare thee well, for time is brief and I am nothing, milady, if I doth not please thee. Forgive my ruffling of thine chaste sentiments. And now, farewell … !”

  “Don’t overleap!” she shrieked, immediately covering her mouth, surprised at herself. “Must I barter my willpower to save thine life?”

  “Milady, thee mustest loveth me, by choice or by destiny,” he said resolutely.

  “Thy path from the house of respect to the house of pleasure appeareth a shortcut. Doth thou aspire to employe sensu-ousness to put paid to mine chastity?” she asked, smiling and handing him her handkerchief as a token. “But if that willst save thee from death, sobeit. But don’t push thy luck, okay, soldier boy? I’m a proper lady!”

  Our hero followed her to his cabin
with the silk handkerchief at his nose, while the other soldiers and sailors watched him, sidelong and envious. His room was small and Gregorio hastened to remove the diamond-studded cross she wore around her neck, the bodkin that held up her hair, her pearl earrings, then lifted up her blonde-lace mantilla, tucked up her red velvet bodice and unlaced her corset, moving on to unfasten the false sleeves of her blouse and her embroidered gloves, unlacing her shoes quickly, lowering her damask overskirt and rigid pannier, removed her stockings, half stockings, and g-string … and when our hero, bursting at the crotchseams with passion at the glimpse of the intimate contours of the honest damsel, and just as he was about to consummate that amorous act, hastily lowering his drawers, there came a shout from the crow’s nest on the main mast.

  ___________

  86. i.e. The role of dueñas, soubrettes, was often described by writers of the period, almost always satirically.

  87. i.e. All these elements of courtly love are common to the Petrarchanism of the period.

  Chapter XIII

  In which the ship carrying Gregorio Izquierdo is attacked by a very famous and vainglorious English corsair

  “Shippe at starboard!” bellowed the lookout, from up high in the crow’s nest.

  A flag appeared on the ocean horizon. Then two masts. Then three. Everyone was nervous and apprehensive, since in those days there were many regular squadrons of pirates and corsairs waiting for their chance to board the Spanish vessels coming to and from the Indies. The crew busily squirreled away jewels and money; animals were hidden in the ship’s catacombs; the women were shouting “why oh why did I ere board this blasted boat!,” the civilians took up their blunderbusses and swords, the Capuchin monks prayed the Ave maris stella and made the sign of the cross repeatedly over their chests, the crossbowmen got into position on the deck, while the soldiers prepared the cannons. It was a chaos of running up and down and terrified expressions.