Like many young men with newly acquired means, Henri discovered the joy in spending money on things even he perceived as frivolous. He had a tailor fashion a set of expensive clothes though he had few occasions when such finery was appropriate. He also purchased an assortment of new work shirts, trousers and boots which he wore at the shipyard if only to signify his new status. At a time when the sentiment among commoners was that bathing could be hazardous, he frequented a bath house run by a former Portuguese trader because he liked feeling clean in his new apparel. His master’s status allowed him sufficient free time to widen his intellectual horizons and Henri re-discovered his love of reading. At first, he borrowed books but soon began purchasing them. Every payday he visited the bookseller and returned with a book. Since he enjoyed reading everything, he could usually negotiate a good price on whatever book caught his fancy. The book he owned and treasured the most was an expensive world atlas acquired cheaply when one of his fellow borders needed some coins to visit a tavern.
The ship captains he lived with had a wild side that became quite apparent most nights after the dinner meal ended. While waiting for their ships to be repaired, they were more promiscuous than their ordinary seamen. These new friends often insisted Henri accompany them on their after-dinner excursions to the seedier parts of the port. Those areas of the city contained taverns overflowing with maidens of questionable character. Henri did little more than acquire a taste for different alcoholic beverages while receiving a great deal of ribbing from his self-indulgent companions whose real interests were sexual liaisons with almost any available female. The truth was Henri felt uncomfortable around such women who often requested a coin for their companionship. He thought little about girls during his apprenticeship and had always been shy in their presence. Henri even felt awkward in the company of his master’s daughters, who looked upon him as a member of the family. The premature death of his parents made the ordinary arranged marriage of the era a difficult issue to overcome. Yet Henri was optimistic he would one day marry and acquire the necessary skills to interact with a wife. He just didn’t know who or when and at eighteen wasn’t quite sure why.
That summer, influenza returned to the city, randomly spreading death among the population. The epidemic continued until the Rotterdam Estate was forced to use its power by invoking the laws of quarantine to close the city to commerce for a period of time. Henri, ever the optimist, knew that the immediate horrors of such plague events were usually followed by unique opportunities for survivors. The true value of individual’s talent and skill always rose after such events. He well understood that the disease that had taken his parents might now create a unique opportunity for him and it did. One of those stricken was the highly successful shipwright Claus Rudderman, who found a specialized niche in the shipbuilding industry. For thirty years, Claus had specialized in building river craft, primarily the small round-sterned kaags which moved the majority of people and goods along the inland waterways. Those little boats were extremely popular with the wealthy, which used them to move their families and goods on rivers and canals. Claus Rudderman and his wife Johanna were raised in Hoorn by devout Roman Catholic shipbuilding families. Their families traditionally sent their children to Catholic school to learn to read and write. Once this brief education was completed, the sons began work at the shipyards and their daughters became wives, mothers and occasionally nuns. Many of Hoorn’s Catholic families were followers of the Dutch Catholic humanists Desiderius Erasmus and well aware of the clerical abuses within the Roman Church. These families, like Martin Luther, saw the church practice of selling indulgences as an abomination of God’s law. Common sense and not religious doctrine, told them one could never buy their way into salvation. Yet like Erasmus, and unlike Luther, these families felt reform must come within the Roman Catholic Church. Yet even then, Protestant ideas were filtering from Germany into Catholic Hoorn. As always, these new ideas were best received by young people who are usually the first to question the existing order. Both Claus and Johanna were two of the young people most affected by the new Christian dogma and both felt, like Luther, that reform within the Catholic Church was impossible. Their dinner tables at home became a battleground of constant and heated debate with relatives about whether the Catholic Church could change. Those discussions with relatives became even more heated after the couple married. When Claus completed his apprenticeship, the couple suddenly severed ties with their families and abruptly moved to Rotterdam. Upon their arrival, Claus began building river craft which required a smaller initial capital investment than larger sea going vessels. The urban setting and less restrictive atmosphere allowed the couple to explore religious alternatives generated from the Reformation in Germany.
Johanna was an intelligent young woman who developed a feel for her husband’s business. She had an excellent understanding of the laws of supply and demand. Claus Rudderman’s little boats soon became highly popular as a fast means of transportation. It was Johanna who suggested to her husband that he limit rather than increase the numbers of kaags he built each year. She had sailed on each maiden voyage helping Claus to evaluate each new boat’s performance. She knew the true wonders of the swift vessels and understood why rich nobles and wealthy merchants purchased them as quickly as they could be constructed. It was after one of those evaluations that Johanna forcefully recommend her husband constraint the number of boats built he built each year and he agreed. She also suggested adding ornamentations to each vessel making them more distinctive. As she predicted, when the supply diminished, the price of Claus’s small boats skyrocketed. The new marketing strategy gave them the time and money to pursue their two great passions-practicing the new Sacramentarian religious beliefs and sailing the little boats they built on the estuary for the pure pleasure of sailing.
Like many Sacramentarians, the Ruddermans accepted the tenet of predestination. They believed that salvation and their life were pretty much pre-ordained by an all powerful God. It gave them comfort when Johanna was unable to have children. Their own reading of the Bible led them to accept God’s will, his laws, and a firm belief that they were among those already selected for salvation. They viewed Claus’s success in business as evidence of the Lord’s favor for they believed those “chosen” lived successful lives. Johanna’s beliefs were more expansive than her husband’s. She also believed being a good person and living a good Christian life would gain a believer even additional merit from God Almighty. So the couple lived pious lives and treated their friends and employees as part of their extended family. They rewarded their workers well for their labor and gave ample alms to the poor. They also contributed generously to their church. Even with this generosity, the Ruddermans were able over time to acquire property. They owned their house, the shipyard and the surrounding land, but when Claus died, the widow was left with little actual cash on hand. Her husband’s death meant she would have little revenue from the shipyard to sustain her household. Johanna could no longer rely on the steady income produced by the construction of Kaags.
While Henri and his fellow workers escaped contamination at his master’s shipyard, the prospective customer of Henri’s vessel succumbed before the ship was completed. Many other prospective ship buyers had met the same fate. A temporary glut of new cargo ships caused prices to plummet. Though Henri had built a fine and sturdy vessel, it sold for substantially less than anticipated leaving little profit for him and the master to share. Henri had little to show for his hard work but spent wage, and the glut in the marketplace left little prospect of independently building another ship in the immediate future. At this point, the trusted magistrate suggested a visit to the Rudderman’s shipyard to meet with Claus’s widow. Henri agreed, with some reluctance, for he had never contemplated building anything but sea going vessels and had little interest in river craft. The next morning, Henri arrived at the Rudderman shipyard with the nonchalant attitude of a casual observer. The first person he met was a friendly
journeyman who had little to do since the passing of his master. He gladly took Henri on a tour of the facility. The site was well placed near the deepest part of the estuary, less than half a mile from the main dock at Rotterdam. The yard was located safely within the Ban Palen posts. It had its own sturdy dock, well-maintained and suitable for servicing larger vessels. The workspace was smaller than a normal shipyard but the dynamics of the site were essentially the same. The cheerful journeyman volunteered that the undeveloped land on both sides of the shipyard were part of the parcel, which in Henri’s mind opened the opportunity for expansion.
The yard itself had no boathouse per se, only a shed-like structure with a thatched roof to shelter a hundred square feet of dry workspace. The area was open to the wind and weather on all four sides. Another smaller work site had a tile roof with three sides of the building enclosed. Both covered structures contained a fire pit and a small furnace. Henri noted a rolled tarp was used to protect the small building’s open side from the elements. The yard also had a well-built cabin with a loft and fireplace that had once served as a residence. A few additional sheds and a windmill for powering the saw completed the complex. Unfinished hulls in various stages of completion were almost haphazardly strewn about the property. A good amount of lumber, well-seasoned hard wood timbers and carefully cut oak and softer pine planking were stacked neatly around both work areas. The precious wood was protected from the elements by tarpaulins.
The true prize of the parcel was two hundred yards from the water’s edge. It was resting on a slightly elevated hill and had purposely been set away from the shipyard. It was a large house, containing many rooms, which, according to the journeyman, Master Rudderman had built for his wife many years earlier, but the worker was quick to correct himself and added, Claus and Johanna had built the house together. In the Dutch fashion, the house had high brick walls and a sloping roof of slate. A few of the window openings had expensive glass panes; the rest were covered by shutters in the manner of the times. At the center of a long porch was a stairway that led to a great oak front door. The ornamented facade compared favorably with the homes of wealthy citizens who lived in the exclusive parts of central Rotterdam. A stable, large enough to house at least four horses and several milk cows, sat properly away from the residence. In between, a spacious vegetable garden completed the complex. The house itself was probably worth twice Henri’s inheritance.
Henri never saw the inside of the house that day for Johanna Rudderman made her appearance at the shipyard and, after a cordial greeting, led him to a Kaag tied at the dock. Johanna was in her late-forties, of medium height and weight, with graying streaks in her long brown hair which she tied back and covered with a bonnet. Johanna motioned him to cast off the lines while she effortlessly raised the little sail, and they quickly left the shipyard behind. She was still dressed in mourning black, but had a pair of dark seaman’s trousers under her dress. Her leather boots gave her firm footing as she moved effortlessly about the little boat. The matron smiled with a sailor’s satisfaction as she skillfully caught a gust of strong wind in the little boat’s sail. She soon out raced the other larger ships that were going in the same direction. At first light, all those larger ships were bunched together at the dock in Rotterdam awaiting the morning tide.
As they approached the Town of Schiedam, five miles downstream, easily recognized by a cluster of tall windmills, she lowered the sail and let the receding tide carry the boat toward the North Sea. When she secured the sail and boom, she opened a small chest and removed two crystal glasses which she half-filled with expensive French brandy. She handed one glass to Henri and casually, almost as a matter-of-fact said, “I may have a proposition for you young man.” Later Henri would hardly remember the whole discussion, which lasted for hours, but Henri knew the conversation had been the most stimulating event of his relatively short shipbuilding career. Mrs. Rudderman began their talk with a series of questions which Henri found difficult to answer. She first asked: “Who built the first ship with sails? Was it the Babylonians? Was it the Egyptians? Was it the Greeks?” Johanna Rudderman continued such questions almost endlessly until she asked one last memorable query: “Have you heard the Arabic tale of an eighth day of creation?” She then told him the story which was carried home by Crusaders to Europe. According to the tale, Islamic sailors believed there was an additional day of creation in which Allah; (their name for God) built a perfect sailboat which could travel directly into the wind. On that extra day, Allah used this perfect vessel to sail all the rivers and oceans of the world admiring his labor. Allah so enjoyed sailing into the wind, water, and weather of the earth He created, that He took the sailboat with him upon returning to Heaven. The matron held that Arab sailors believed Allah had left mankind with the ability to recreate the vessel, but only for the purpose of sharing the Lord’s sheer love of sailing. Johanna truly believed the perfect craft could never be duplicated by shipbuilders trying to transport people, move cargo or make war. It could only be built by a craftsman who wanted to experience the same pleasure the Lord felt on this eighth day, sailing for the pure pleasure of sailing. Johanna believed the quest to build this perfect ship could begin in Holland with the right shipwright and at times in the past thought her late husband Claus might have been the one, had he just a little more faith in the parable.
To Henri, the idea of a God building a perfect sailboat seemed absurd. Particularly since Henri had already turned away from the very concept of an existing deity. Yet despite himself, Henri couldn’t resist thoughts of using his skills to improve on “God’s” perfect design. Henri felt that if God did exist, the Almighty had proved Himself flawed when he took his good parents. Such a flawed God would have made other mistakes, even with the design of a supposedly perfect sailboat. The very essence of Henri’s creative nature told him he could correct some if not all of His mistakes. Almost immediately, Henri was ashamed of his own thoughts. He knew he could never share Johanna Rudderman’s reverence toward God but he might share her vision of building the perfect sailing craft. Looking back, Henri; often thought that by the grace of someone’s God, the discussion with the saintly matron turned to more practical things.
Johanna told him candidly that eventually the shipyard must be sold if she was to retain her home and she had a plan, at least for the immediate future. She would obtain a shipwright capable of finishing the Kaags her husband had begun. A substantial profit could be made by completing the eight hulls that Claus’s death had left unfinished. Johanna was positive these last of the Rudderman Kaags would bring a high price in the marketplace.
However Johanna wasn’t sure about Henri: She, like many in the maritime community, considered him a brilliant young shipwright destined for great accomplishments, but had certain misgivings. Johanna expressed her fears that Henri lacked the necessary experience building smaller crafts and feared he knew little about the intricacies of their sails and riggings. Henri instantly realized that even the most experienced master shipbuilder would have limited knowledge of river boat sails and the methods used in attaching them. During the mid-sixteenth century, the Dutch were developing a modern shipbuilding industry which meant a master shipwright no longer built an entire ship. His task was confined to shaping a sturdy hull and securing masts set down in the right proportion to the keel. On ocean going vessels, a sail maker, not the shipbuilder, was responsible for adding a topmast and a bowsprit as he designed an appropriate configuration of sails for the nearly completed vessel. The job of rigging those sails for the best advantage at sea fell to the crew that prepared the ship for its maiden voyage.
Henri sensed that Johanna Rudderman was testing him and he felt he was about to fail that test. The matron really wanted to know his overall understanding of the true art of shipbuilding. From within his anxiety, he suddenly remembered his drawing skills and the variety of ships and sails he had once sketched for his parents. Henri confidently assured Mrs. Rudderman that he could dra
w imaginative sail designs after collaborating with more experienced people like herself. Initially he told her he would copy the sail on the existing Kaags until he was ready to bring forward his own innovative design. Henri admitted that rigging would be a challenge because he sailed infrequently during his apprenticeship but modeling and collaborations would allow the early rigging to be also done properly. He noticed, when admitting his lack of sailing experience that Johanna had frowned. It was the only time Mrs. Rudderman showed any visible sign of displeasure during their discussions.
The final topic she initiated was religion. Johanna Rudderman wanted to know whether Henri considered himself a saint or a sinner, and Henri knew enough about the followers of the new Protestant faith to well know the word “saint” would be the only word she would want to hear. Instead, Henri probably shocked her when he confessed he no longer considered himself a Catholic but thought little about replacing the Roman faith with another. Henri told her about the strong feelings he felt regarding his parents’ early death. She seemed almost sympathetic, possibly harboring a similar viewpoint over her own recent loss.
The dialogue then turned to what sailors always like to talk about, the way to increase the speed of any ship and the conversation drifted as pleasurably as the little Kaag did on the estuary until the tide came in and the wind began shifting toward the city. Johanna suggested Henri raise the sail and take command on the journey home. Henri enjoyed sailing the fast little vessel and only reluctantly relinquished the tiller as they approached the dock at Rotterdam. She let him off near his lodging and gave him a departing smile. For a time he watched her limberly maneuver the little boat away from the busy dock with the same dexterity she used to avoid giving him any indication about her future plans. He thought about Mrs. Rudderman and the unfinished kaags as he walked to his lodging and Henri envisioned many more specific changes to the keels that would make them faster. He wished he had shared these thoughts with her. Henri would have agreed to finish those kaags if she had asked him to do so. When he arrived at the boarding house, he took a few sheets of his finest paper and began to sketch a little kaag. He had trouble remembering the exact dimensions of the craft he had sailed which continued the frustrations of a day that had gone in an unexpected way.
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