Encounters Unforeseen- 1492 Retold

by Andrew Rowen

  Cristóbal observed men gathering on the beach, including the man previously hosted and a cacique of importance. He realized these Indians intended to renew a peaceful contact regardless of the altercation and dispatched well-armed crewmen to meet them. When the crew debarked, Mayobanex removed his stone necklace and had it handed to the crews’ leader as a gesture of peace and security. Unarmed and outnumbered, he and three nitaínos stepped into the launch to meet the pale beings’ cacique.

  Mayobanex studied the weapons the pale beings carried and realized the swords and crossbows were the instruments that had wounded his subjects. He scrutinized the sweat-drenched cloth that wrapped their bodies and pondered the reason for it. He smelled their pale skin and realized they rarely bathed. He studied the heavy paddles they used and judged that their strange canoe was not as swift as the Ciguayan.

  Cristóbal stood with Bakako on the stern deck, studying the cacique as he climbed aboard the Niña, his blackened skin shimmering in the sunlight and his lengthy hair and parrot feathers fluttering in the wind. Cristóbal reflected that the ruler comported himself with grace, stature, and confidence, belying his wild appearance and any fear stemming from yesterday’s altercation. Cristóbal was confident of winning his friendship with trifles and courtesy—as had been achieved with other caciques over the past three months.

  When they arrived before him, Cristóbal welcomed the cacique and his nitaínos and received the stone necklace. He sought with a soft tone and Bakako’s assistance to indicate gratitude for the gift and friendship and offered biscuits and honey to all and, for the cacique, beads and a red cap and cloth. Mayobanex responded in his native Macorix and gestures that he valued the gifts and enjoyed the food. He realized the youth spoke Taíno with a Lucayan accent—likely a Lucayan naboria—and resolved to communicate in Taíno as best he could. He suspected the youth was assisting against his will.

  Admiral graciously led Mayobanex on a tour of the ship. Mayobanex perceived the courtesy but discerned no attempt by Admiral to address the skirmish. He wondered if the language barrier made apology too difficult, but surmised Admiral felt no sorrow or guilt. He studied Admiral’s confident speech and gestures describing his vessel and suspected that Admiral not only felt justified in what had occurred but sought to warn that it could occur again—whenever Admiral so ordered.

  Cristóbal held his gold piece aloft. “I seek gold.” Bakako said the Taíno word for gold, which Mayobanex recognized.

  “We have gold, but there is more on the islands to the east.” Mayobanex nodded his head affirmatively but pointed east. He reflected that emphasizing the latter point was important if he wished to encourage these beings to leave. “There’s much gold on the islands to the east.”

  “Are you Caribe?” Cristóbal asked through Bakako.

  “No. Caribes live to the east.” Mayobanex pointed east.

  “Do they live on the island Carib?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is the island Matininó east, as well? Do women alone live there?”

  Mayobanex recognized the word Matininó and was surprised that Admiral appeared to know the ancestral account of Guahayona and his travels. He perceived Admiral’s intent to travel east and again chose to encourage that. “Yes. Matininó is east. Women live there alone except when men come to lie with them.”

  “Is the island Guanín east?” Cristóbal continued. “Is it near Matininó? Is it full of gold?”

  Mayobanex now was startled, perceiving that Admiral knowingly sought to follow Guahayona’s legendary voyage. His anxiety surged as he reflected that Admiral and his beings might indeed be spirits with power to achieve Matininó and Guanín. But his skepticism to the contrary also swelled, and he questioned whether Admiral and his beings simply were men who misunderstood what they had heard—fools seeking gold in reliance on a faith they did not comprehend. For the third time, Mayobanex chose to encourage Admiral’s departure. “Yes. It’s near Matininó and overflows with guanín.”

  Cristóbal was elated, and the men shared more biscuits and honey. Cristóbal interpreted that the cacique was content with the visit. Before departing, Mayobanex promised Admiral that he would return with a face mask embedded with gold to affirm the two men’s personal relationship.

  The next morning, Mayobanex rose to decide the relationship his cacicazgo should have with the pale beings. He consulted his nitaínos but made the decision regardless of their views. Mayobanex wanted no relationship with the pale beings, preferring that they leave amicably never to be encountered again. He didn’t trust them. He dispatched a face mask to fulfill his promise to Admiral but did not return to meet him, deciding instead to wait in a highland village until the beings left the peninsula before returning home.

  Cristóbal rose and determined to depart east after meeting the cacique again and taking captives. Relations with the local peoples remained strained, and he named the bay Golfo de las Flechas (Gulf of Arrows) in remembrance of the skirmish. During the day, he received the cacique’s face mask and discovered that the Samanáns possessed significant cotton and a chili more valuable than pepper. His crew discovered considerable weed floating in the bay, similar to that encountered midsea on the outward crossing, and he speculated that they were less than 400 leagues from the Canaries.

  Four youths came to the Niña and Cristóbal discussed the islands east with them. He was impressed with their knowledge of geography, gold, and guanín and, as the youths tried to depart at dusk, he had them seized. Some were but a few years older than Bakako.

  That evening, Cristóbal wrote in his journal that the site would yield fifty caravels of the chili per year and copper likely could be obtained on the islands Carib and Matininó, noting it would be difficult to secure Carib’s copper since its peoples ate human flesh. He indicated he would take more captives on both islands, and, past midnight, the Niña and Pinta raised anchor and departed homeward bound.

  While proud of the territories claimed, Cristóbal despaired that not a single city, bridge, or golden-roofed temple had been found as proof of the Indies after three months of exploration. He yearned to achieve this proof on the homeward journey by locating the islands spoken of by Mandeville and Marco Polo and seizing captives therefrom.

  A scout woke Mayobanex as he slept in a local cacique’s caney. He stepped outside in the moonlight to watch fires stoked throughout the village as alarm spread that some youths had not returned from the vessels, which had departed. He wasn’t surprised and pondered what fate befell them. Soon, a mother’s wail pierced the night.

  Columbus’s map of Northern Haiti, 1493.

  MEETING WITH ADMIRAL’S LIEUTENANTS,

  Guarico, (January 1493)

  After watching his emissary depart to meet King Fernando and Queen Isabel on January 4, Guacanagarí hoped to establish a productive relationship with Admiral’s lieutenants that would flourish to become an exclusive trading partnership when Admiral returned. He recognized the lieutenants had neither Admiral’s perception nor nobility but understood that neither did the men who captained his own war canoes. He dispatched a messenger to the fort to invite the lieutenants for breakfast the next day.

  Most of the crew slept outside the fort, as it was too small to hold them, and some had found women to sleep with in their own bohíos. Diego de Arana interpreted Guacanagarí’s invitation as exclusive to himself, as the garrison’s captain. But that insulted Pedro Gutiérrez and Rodrigo de Escobedo, who reminded Diego that they were the Crown representatives and, unlike himself, had experience in leadership and meeting foreign peoples.

  Diego shied from publicly denying Pedro and Rodrigo and sullenly acquiesced as they strolled together to Guarico’s central plaza. Guacanagarí greeted them warmly and they sat on duhos, sharing cazabi and pineapple juice.

  Through hand gestures and dirt diagrams, Guacanagarí sought to discuss food, gold, and women. He explained that he presided in the plaza every few weeks to apportion food among his subjects and invited the lieutenant
s to attend to obtain the garrison’s food. He offered the lieutenants plots where the garrison could plant the seed from Castile.

  Diego agreed they would attend the plaza but looked to Pedro and Rodrigo for guidance as to the seed. While many of the crew might know enough to tend a small garden, none were farmers, as settlement had never been envisaged, and sailors eschewed labor ashore. Pedro thanked Guacanagarí for the land and pointed to Guacanagarí’s attendant naborias to suggest that they do the planting. Guacanagarí worried that the seed was unknown to his people but gestured he would provide naborias to assist.

  Guacanagarí indicated that he would bring gold often, to be traded for the items now stored near the fort. He held a gold piece in one hand and his gloves and a hawk’s bell in the other.

  Diego responded immediately, pointing to the hawk’s bell and himself. “I will decide the items traded and receive the gold.” Guacanagarí observed that Rodrigo and Pedro were surprised.

  Rodrigo spoke, pointing to all three of them and the hawk’s bell. “The gold is for Fernando and Isabel. We three together will decide the items traded and receive the gold.” Guacanagarí noted Diego’s surprise.

  “I’m captain,” Diego interjected. “I’m responsible to the Admiral.”

  “I’m Fernando’s captain,” Pedro countered. “Rodrigo is Isabel’s captain.”

  Guacanagarí couldn’t understand the words, but he perceived the situation. He nodded courteously to all three and acknowledged to himself that Admiral’s leadership would be lacking or contested and that he would, of necessity, deal directly with all three lieutenants.

  Guacanagarí asked a nitaíno to introduce two women who had been standing nearby for this moment. With gestures, the nitaíno explained the elder woman was his wife and wore a nagua, and that the men of the garrison could never touch women wearing naguas. Guacanagarí studied the lieutenants’ expressions and refrained from berating them that this prohibition had already been violated, more than once. The nitaíno indicated the younger woman was unmarried and that unmarried women didn’t wear naguas and could be touched if they agreed, but only if they agreed. Guacanagarí gaged the lieutenants’ reactions and again concealed his disgust, as this prohibition also had been violated. He reflected that perhaps the pale men’s attachment to clothing distorted their perception of when women consented, confusing nakedness for consent.

  Finished with his agenda, Guacanagarí escorted the lieutenants back to the fort, where he observed the crew at rest and leisure, lying about. Before all, he parted courteously from Pedro and Rodrigo and then, with greater solemnity, Diego. Diego responded with exaggerated adulation of the two men’s relationship, unpracticed and inappropriate given their unequal status, and Guacanagarí doubted Diego had the slightest experience with leadership.

  Within a few days, Guacanagarí invited the lieutenants to sit with him in Guarico’s plaza while fish was distributed to farmers, cazabi to fishermen, and both fish and cazabi to the garrison. He was astounded how much food the pale beings took to eat. Within a week, his naborias planted the seed, observing the commands of a few crewmen. While it sprouted quickly, the pale men made no effort to weed or mulch.

  _______________

  1 Perhaps manatees.

  2 Amazonia.

  3 Islands of Males and Females.

  XI

  NORTHERN CROSSING

  LETTERS TO THE SOVEREIGNS,

  January–February 1493

  The Niña and Pinta coursed east by north toward Europe, propelled by an unusual westerly wind. As the sun broke the horizon beyond the Niña’s bow, Bakako and Yutowa gathered the Samanán captives to sit before Admiral on the stern deck, where they trembled to learn their fate. Cristóbal offered them cazabi and water, tempering their fears before seeking information.

  Cristóbal turned to Bakako and Yutowa. “You say they speak of Matininó, where women live alone, and of Carib, where there are only men. I want to sail to both, and then to Guanín for its gold and copper.” Cristóbal pointed to the Samanáns. “Get them to lead us there.”

  Bakako and Yutowa nodded yes, but Bakako was dumbfounded. He had accepted they were traveling to Admiral’s Castile, far beyond the horizon, but never conceived Admiral would visit Matininó and Guanín—as if retracing Guahayona’s own voyage. While Admiral’s interest in Guanín was obvious, the interest in Matininó was inexplicable given his disrespect for Yúcahu and other spirits. Bakako marveled to behold the venerated places.

  Cristóbal pointed east and addressed the Samanáns. “Carib? Is it that way?”

  A Samanán pointed southeast.

  Bakako responded in Taíno, pointing toward the Samanán and then southeast a number of times. “Admiral is seeking Carib. Have you actually seen or been to Carib?”

  The Samanán replied in Macorix and gestures. “No. Never. The Caribes would eat us. But they say it’s there.”

  Bakako understood only “no.” There was no purpose in translating, as Admiral would sail there regardless.

  Cristóbal redirected the ships southeast, and sailors dutifully adjusted the sails to run with a tail wind over starboard. But Cristóbal quickly detected the crew’s reluctance to veer the course from Europe and, within moments, his steward Pedro reported to him substantial murmurs of gloom, discontent, and even hostility. The crew was distraught the ships were leaking at the keel and would barely service crossing the Ocean Sea, no less further exploration. Most of the fleet’s provisions had been left at Navidad, and many feared the stores remaining were insufficient. They had thought they were homeward bound.

  Cristóbal sensed the hostility himself and, within moments, decided the risk of severely alienating his crew outweighed the validation achieved by finding Carib. When the wind sharpened, he ordered Pero Alonso to reset the course northeast by east, believing that the direct route to Spain.1 The crew cheered mightily.

  But Cristóbal had not yet given up, hoping the course set would achieve Matininó so he might take yet five or six more captives as proof of the Indies. He turned to Bakako. “Ask the Samanáns whether this course will attain Matininó, or close thereto.”

  “Admiral seeks Matininó,” Bakako said to the Samanáns, shrugging. He completed the thought silently to himself. Where Guahayona left the women taken from the Cacibajagua.

  Whether they understood or not, the Samanáns obliged the confirmation. But no island appeared as the day waned and, recognizing the Lord meant to deny him, Cristóbal abandoned further discovery. That night, he reported in his journal that they could not have passed more than fifteen or twenty leagues from the islands Carib and Matininó, where women and men lived apart.

  For the next three weeks, the Niña and Pinta sailed on a starboard tack northeast to north when the wind permitted, sometimes veering farther east or north, occasionally driven southeast on a port tack. Cristóbal sought to escape the easterly winds that had pushed him west from the Canaries to find more variable winds, hopefully including westerlies to push him back to Spain. On January 21, he noticed the temperature growing colder and the nights longer. The next day, the winds fell and the Indians enjoyed bathing in the sea. On January 25, the crew caught a dolphin and a large shark, which all enjoyed since their provisions had dwindled to hardtack, cazabi, sweet potato, and wine. On February 3, Cristóbal dead reckoned that the polestar appeared very high in the sky, as on Cape St. Vincent, indicating they were approaching a latitude of 37 degrees north.2 He sought to locate the strong westerlies apparently encountered by Dulhmo.

  Each day, Bakako and Yutowa took instruction on Castilian and Christianity from Admiral’s servants. Bakako warmed to the Castilian and the art of translation, gratified he had a facility with the pale men’s language that exceeded Yutowa’s and far surpassed the other Taínos’. He remained cold to the Christianity.

  In spite of the temperate weather, some of the crewmen developed rashes, with red sores on their penises (syphilis). They joked and wondered whether the cause was overuse with the Ind
ian women. A few developed more serious rashes on their palms and the soles of their feet, as well as headaches. Martín was afflicted and grew weary. Pain surged, and some perceived the Lord’s condemnation.

  As they progressed northeast, Cristóbal turned to draft two letters to announce and aggrandize the triumph of his voyage and convince the sovereigns and financiers to underwrite a substantial second voyage to commence Española’s colonization. One was designed for broad publication, the other for the king and queen alone, and he intended both to be dispatched to the sovereigns as soon as he arrived in Castile. Unlike the journal, neither would contain nautical information sufficient to permit others to replicate the voyage. Cristóbal would safeguard the journal—which did reveal the route sailed—for his own delivery to the king and queen when they met. He also would distribute copies of the public letter for his own promotion of the discovery, first to Luis de Santángel, who would grasp the commercial potential right away.

  Each letter began boldly proclaiming unqualified triumph. The public letter declared that he had sailed from the Canaries to the Indies to take possession by proclamation and without opposition of many islands filled with innumerable peoples. The private letter pronounced that the Lord now gave the sovereigns the greatest victory he had ever given any prince. The public letter also rebuked his detractors, noting that the Lord gives triumph over things that appear impossible to those who follow his ways, and proclaimed that all Christendom ought to delight in the potential converts and temporal gains.

  In the public letter, Cristóbal explained that the islands discovered were fertile to a limitless degree, particularly Española, having arable land suited for planting, cattle, building towns and villages, and mining gold. The Indians encountered went naked, spoke a common language, possessed no weapons other than canes, and were incurably timid and guileless, generously sharing all they possessed, especially food, and it was unclear whether they recognized private property. But they weren’t ignorant and had acute intelligence, and they were good navigators, with canoes of incredible speed. They also weren’t black as in Guinea, the sun shining less intensely at the islands’ northern latitude. He hadn’t found human monstrosities except for an island of ferocious people who ate human flesh and ranged throughout the islands to pillage and loot, and he had discovered an island named Matininó where women lived alone except when they had intercourse with these fierce peoples. As for the Indians’ subjugation, they had been given gifts to achieve their affection and induce them to Christianity and the love and service of the sovereigns and the Castilian nation. They knew no creed, were not idolaters, and were inclined to conversion.