The land around the village is very fertile and the people look well fed. They gave us a meal of fish and bread, though the bread tasted more like chestnuts than the wheat stuff we’re used to at home. Whatever it is, it’s a lot better than the biscuits on the ship.
We asked the Indians how the bread’s made and they showed us something like a large carrot, which is grated into flour. As we liked it so much, they gave us some more to bring back to the ship.
Bread wasn’t all we were given. Someone must have told them that the Admiral fancied the idea of taking some brightly coloured parrots back to Spain, and since we haven’t much else to show for our voyage so far, many of the sailors decided they’d like parrots as well.
The Indians were so generous that before long we were surrounded by parrots, squawking, pecking and doing the other thing on our clothes which some people say is a sign of good luck.
I hope the Admiral is pleased with his feathered friends, because it’s anyone’s guess when we’ll get home and he’ll be spending a lot of time in their company.
Sailors having parrots as pets? Whatever next?!
18 December 1492 – along the coast of Española
Only a week to go till Christmas, and we’re getting into the party spirit on the Santa Maria.
There hasn’t been much talk about the Great Khan for some time (I think the Admiral may be having second thoughts about where we are and whether the Great Khan fits into the picture at all). However, our luck took a turn for the better today when the Admiral was invited to meet the young king who reigns in this land.
He must only have been in his early twenties, like me, though he arrived with 200 attendants and was carried on a litter by four men. He may not have been wearing any clothes, but you could tell by the way his people treated him that he is as important to them as our King and Queen are to us.
The Admiral was dining in his cabin when the young king arrived, and he asked him inside for a bite to eat. I don’t think King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella would have been too thrilled to be invited to tuck into four-month-old salt pork, old bean stew, dried fish and rock-hard sea biscuits, which have now got the added taste of weevils unless you remember to knock them out before taking a bite.
However, this young king politely had a mouthful of everything he was offered, said it was delicious (according to the Admiral) and then told his attendants to try some.
After they’d finished eating they exchanged gifts. The King gave the Admiral a beautiful belt and two pieces of gold (rather thin gold as far as I could see).
In return the Admiral gave the King the cover from his bed, which the King had taken a fancy to.
He also gave him the string of amber beads which he wore round his neck, a flask of orange-flavoured water and some red shoes – an odd selection, but the young King didn’t seem to mind. In fact, a sailor who later saw his procession on the way back to his village told the Admiral that his gifts were carried in front of the king with great honour.
23 December 1492 – further along the coast of Española
Party on! I think I could get a taste for life aboard ship if it was always like this.
Española is a great place for a holiday. Maybe in the future people will sail here to spend the winter cruising past this wonderful tropical scenery over a clear blue sea, filled with brilliantly coloured fish. We’ve been to plenty of harbours where ships could anchor safely, and the people ashore are so friendly and generous, visitors would have a holiday of a lifetime. I’m glad we got here first.
Today we were the guests of another chieftain (possibly a king, it’s hard to tell when everyone’s dressed, or undressed, alike).
We were offered a new sort of bread which tastes delicious, even though it’s made from a plant called yucca.
The Indians gave us a new type of fruit as well, covered in sharp prickles on the outside, but juicy and sweet inside. A sailor on the Pinta said it reminded him of an apple – I can’t think why – and one of his friends said that the only sort of tree a prickly ‘apple’ like this could grow on was a pine tree. They thought that was terribly funny.
The Indians obviously wanted to make this a special outdoor party for us, because they cooked fish and lizards on the cooking frames I’ve noticed in other villages. These are made from poles tied together and raised above the ground, so that a fire can be lit underneath. You don’t need pots and pans for this sort of cooking and because the food is cooked in the open, the smoke and smell don’t bother you. In fact they made me feel even hungrier.
The Indians call this sort of cooking frame a barbecua. I mustn’t confuse it with one of the hamaca. That could be seriously uncomfortable!
24 December 1492 – Christmas Eve aboard the Santa Maria, sailing along the coast of Española
After all the parties and feasting with the Indians along the coast, we’re all in a very merry mood this Christmas Eve.
The Admiral doesn’t normally sail at night because of the danger of running into rocks in the dark, but tonight the sea is calm, the sky is clear, we’ve raised a mug or two of wine to toast Their Majesties this Christmas and no-one seems to think there’s any risk.
We had a bit of a singsong at sunset, to remind us of Christmas with the family and to stop us feeling homesick, since they’re so far away. As well as the usual carols and Christmas songs, we made one up which was sung to a tune the sailors know about a piece of rigging called a ‘one horse open sail’ or something like that.
BEADS AND BELLS
Beads and bells, beads and bells,
Jingling every day,
We’ve brought beads and lots of bells
For the people of Cathay, hey!
Beads and bells, beads and bells,
Jingling every day,
The Portuguese sail eastwards,
But ours is a shorter way.
Crossing the Ocean Sea,
In a cramped and crowded ship,
We sailed to the unknown world,
On our historic trip,
Spices, gold and jewels,
Trade to make us rich,
These are what we came for –
But there has been a hitch, OH…
Beads and bells, beads and bells, etc.
Cipangu’s roofs are gold
And silks the people wear,
But here the roofs are made of leaves
and the people go round bare.
They’re friendly and they’re kind,
They give us leaves and bread,
But we wish they’d trade with us
more precious things instead, OH…
Beads and bells, beads and bells, etc.
25 December 1492 – Christmas Day, ashore on Española
What a way to spend Christmas!
Yesterday evening we were sailing along part of the coast which had already been explored by boat. The sailors had told the Admiral that there were no dangerous rocks or reefs, so on we sailed into the night before Christmas.
Aboard ship everyone was feeling drowsy. The Admiral was asleep in his cabin. The ship’s master was snoozing somewhere as well and I was peacefully dreaming of shepherds, a star, a stable and jingling beads and bells.
The next thing I knew, someone in my dream was shouting my name. “Look! Look!” one of the ship’s boys was yelling.
This was followed by a grinding sound from the bottom of the ship, a judder and a crunch. Then the Santa Maria stopped moving.
Some of the sailors were already on their feet as I was rubbing my eyes. The door of the Admiral’s cabin was flung open and people started shouting orders. It took a moment or two before I realized what had happened.
The boy who’d wakened us all was jabbering that it wasn’t his fault. The sailor who should have been steering the ship had gone off for a nap and had told him to take the wheel (which is dead against the Admiral’s orders). He hadn’t seen the coral reef under the water, he wailed, and when the ship ran on to it all he could do was yell out in
terror.
The Admiral ordered the boat over the side double-quick. The ship’s master and the boat crew were told to take a rope and pull the ship off the reef into deeper water. At that time there wasn’t much damage and, if we could refloat her, there was a chance of reaching shore and repairing her there.
Then we had our second stroke of bad luck. Instead of obeying the Admiral, the men in the boat rowed straight across to the Niña They thought the Santa Maria was going down and they wanted to save their skins.
However, Captain Pinzon refused to let them aboard the Niña and sent them back to our ship. But by the time they returned, it was too late. The tide was running out.
The Admiral ordered the crew to cut down the mainmast and push it over the side, to make the ship lighter, but by now the Santa Maria had settled onto the reef, the bottom boards had burst open and water was flooding into the hold.
We were shipwrecked and our merry Christmas vanished like my dream.
The largest of our ships will never float again. Another disappeared over a month ago. Now all we have is the smallest of the three.
How were we all going to get home? That was my first thought.
Luckily the sea stayed calm, and as daylight came, we started unloading all the stores from the Santa Maria into the two boats to take them ashore.
This was when the Indians who live nearby arrived to lend a hand. King Guacanagari sent big canoes to help rescue our belongings. He gave us houses in which we could store our food and gear and the Indians haven’t taken as much as a grain of pepper the whole time.
So that’s how we spent Christmas, in a house surrounded by piles of food and gifts. Terrific – I don’t think!
26 December 1492 – ashore on Española, in the land of King Guacanagari
I’ve got to hand it to the Admiral. Somehow he sees the bright side of even the biggest disaster.
Today he told us that the shipwreck was a sign from God that he should make a settlement here and start trading with the King.
He’s also had a brainwave – we can break up the Santa Maria and use the wood from her to build a fort.
There was another part of his brainwave – some of the crew could stay behind, while the rest of us sailed home. He’d be back, the Admiral assured everyone, and those left behind would have a great time here, a sort of extended holiday.
27 December 1492 – in the land of King Guacanagari
Work’s going well on building the fort.
There’s been more good news too. Indians have seen our missing ship, the Pinta, somewhere along the coast to the east. The King has sent a canoe with one of our sailors to find her and order Captain Martin Alonso Pinzon to sail here to join us.
I don’t suppose he’ll be in much of a hurry to do that.
1 January 1493 – New Year’s Day, in the land of King Guacanagari
A year ago I was enjoying life back in Toledo with Master Isaac and his family. What a lot can happen in twelve months!
Anyhow, the Admiral’s talking about going home now that the Santa Maria’s been wrecked. If my luck holds, I could be back in Spain by the spring.
I’m not volunteering to stay behind – no way. But I’m amazed how many men have jumped at the chance. Do they know something I don’t about the voyage home?
Nearly forty of them will be remaining in La Navidad – that’s the name the Admiral has given to our first settlement in these new lands. He’s called it that because the settlement was ‘born’ as a result of the shipwreck on Jesus’s Nativity, Christmas Day.
Even though the Indians are friendly at the moment, the Admiral isn’t taking any chances. He ordered one of our cannons to shoot a big hole through the wreck of the Santa Maria, to show what Spanish weapons can do.
He also impressed the King and his people with the top-notch bows and swords he’s leaving behind. If there’s any trouble, the men in La Navidad will be able to look after themselves.
6 January 1493 – anchored off Española, eastwards of La Navidad
We sailed away from La Navidad two days ago, after saying goodbye to our shipmates and King Guacanagari and his people.
I was up in the rigging on lookout duty, thinking this through, when a sail appeared in the distance and started to grow bigger. It was the Pinta, sailing towards us after disappearing over six weeks ago!
She was alongside before nightfall and we anchored together. The Admiral was hopping mad when Captain Pinzon came aboard the Niña, but he did his best to keep his temper.
Captain Pinzon made some excuses for sailing away like that, but you could tell the Admiral thought it was his greed which had made him take off. From what he told the Admiral, he’s had more luck finding gold than we have. I don’t suppose that news went down very well.
8 January 1493 – off the coast of Española
We’ve spent the last two days exploring the coast. Now that the Pinta is back with us once again, the Admiral is keener to explore these lands a little more before we set sail for home. Could Captain Pinzon’s story of trading a lot of gold with Indians along the coast have anything to do with it?
Today we took on supplies of wood and fresh water to prepare for the voyage back to Spain. We found water in a large river and while we were resting between boatloads, we noticed grains of gold lying in the sand. Later, grains of gold were found stuck in the metal hoops of the buckets and casks. The Admiral named the river the Rio del Oro13. Well, wouldn’t you?
It’s funny how life works out. Here we are, spending nearly three months wandering around these islands looking for gold without much to show for it, and just as we’re about to head for home, we find a river so full of the stuff we’ll be almost drinking it all the way back across the Ocean Sea.
13 January 1493 – still off the coast of Española
After today most of us have had enough discovering for the time being.
It began like most other days we’ve had since we arrived in these islands. We anchored off yet another beach of beautiful golden sand, and a party went ashore in the boat to find ajes14, which Indians have given us to eat when we’ve visited their villages.
On the beach the sailors started talking to a group of Indian men, who looked fiercer and more warlike than any we have met so far. Their faces were smeared with charcoal and their long hair hung down their backs, tied at the end with birds’ feathers.
The Admiral thought these might be the Cannibal Indians, we had heard about back along the coast, and he invited one of them on to the Niña to talk to him.
The Indian mentioned an island rich in gold (haven’t I heard that somewhere already on this voyage?). And he spoke about another inhabited only by women.
I reckon he was pulling our legs, but he was given something to eat before being taken ashore with presents of coloured cloth and glass beads. So far, so good.
On the beach, our men started trading with the Indians, exchanging beads and bells, cloth and caps for the bows and arrows they were carrying. These are the first weapons we have seen since we landed in October, and they’re as big as the ones used in France and England.
After two bows had been bought, the Indians had second thoughts, because they picked up their weapons and threatened to attack our men. You should never insult a man with feathers in his hair, I always say.
Several of the sailors were armed and ready, as the Admiral had commanded throughout the voyage, so they were able to drive the Indians away. Two were injured, but the rest escaped unharmed.
Now we know that not all the Indians are friendly. It’s disappointing, but I suppose if the Indians had crossed the Ocean Sea and ‘discovered’ us, they would have found that people in Europe can be just the same – both murderous and matey.
16 January 1493 – at sea, on our way home!
Those Indians we had the fight with a couple of days ago must have got the Admiral thinking about the island filled with women, because he decided to make a final visit there before setting off across the Ocean Sea to S
pain.
No-one else was that excited by the idea, which shows how keen everyone is to get back home. But the Admiral was having none of it.
However, this time Fate was on our side, and instead of blowing us in the direction of the all-woman island, the winds swung round and blew in the direction of Spain.
Our ships are no good at sailing straight into the wind, and it wasn’t long before the Admiral gave the order to change course. The Niña and the Pinta swung round and pointed their bows to the northeast by east.
¡ Viva España! Home, here we come!
25 January 1493 – somewhere on the Ocean Sea
I’d forgotten how boring sailing can be when you’re out of the sight of land. I miss the extra space we had on the Santa Maria as well.
We’re not sailing home as fast as we sailed away from it. After the first day the winds turned against us and we made slow progress.
In the end the Admiral took us further north and we started picking up winds blowing from the west. These are the ones we need if we are going to sail home safely. I hope they keep up.
The food wasn’t up to much on the voyage out, but now it’s worse than ever. After the fight with the Indians, we left Española sharpish and before we’d loaded all the supplies we needed. Now we’ve got sea biscuits, those Indian vegetables called ajes and wine. That’s about it.
Luckily it’s been calm enough to fish, and today we caught a dolphin and a very big shark, which will give us something tasty for a few days. I don’t mind saying I really fancy a nice piece of lizard cooked on a barbecua, followed by one of those pine-apple fruits.
10 February 1493 – somewhere on the moon (well, it’s more interesting than writing “somewhere on the Ocean Sea ”…)
There hasn’t been much to write about in the last two weeks. Either the Admiral is on a lucky streak or he knows more about the Ocean Sea than he’s letting on. Whichever it is, the wind keeps blowing us eastwards day after day. The sea has stayed calm and the weather is more like spring at home than the middle of February.
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