Of the departure from Manila, and the voyage to Macasar
1. Don Sabiniano Manrique was governing to the satisfaction of the
community. No governor in the world has ever kept all the people
satisfied, or ever will. However, some restless fellows were not
wanting, a thing that no human prudence can avoid. But it is a
very strong argument for his good government that the commander Don
Francisco Enriquez de Losada wrote in the year sixty-six (and I have
his letter in my possession) that all the people, and especially the
religious, were calling for Don Sabiniano. I never heard that they
cried out for others. This is most sufficient testimony for the praise
and credit of that illustrious gentleman. Although his Lordship had
given me his word to provide me with quarters in the ship which was
going to Acapulco that year, the terror that reigned in my soul at the
thought of passing those seas, and other things, induced me to take
passage with my old friend, the commander Christoval Romero. All my
viaticum and supplies resolved themselves into sixty reals of eight,
four tunics, and two habits, that I might travel more lightly and
unimpeded. I left my cloak with a friend, and went without that and
other things No voyage by water can be assured, even if only for a
few leguas; and it is folly to appoint it for fixed days.
2. We set sail on the fourteenth of February, and I confess that I
was soon depressed, and feared that the voyage would turn out ill;
for the seamen, who in accordance with all good reasoning ought to
live with greater discretion and fear, commenced to go astray. The
east winds were blustering by that time, but to us it appeared that
they had shut themselves up in their secret treasuries. We reached
Zamboanga March six, where we met the relief ship that was en route to
Terrenate. It had taken on rice and meat at Oton, and their commandant
was already dead. At seven o'clock at night we continued our journey,
and in a sudden squall the sail swept our best sailor into the sea,
and he stayed there. That misfortune increased my terrors. During
our crossing to the island of Macasar, a distance of sixty leguas,
the storms were furious; the waves the most terrible ever seen; the
samatras most powerful, although of short duration; and, above all,
pilots were unreliable. One morning we awoke to find ourselves among
some rugged cliffs and huge rocks; I know not how that boat got among
them without being dashed to pieces. We escaped out of that danger,
to fall into greater ones. In four or five days we found the weather
very clear until half-past eleven o'clock; but when we went to take
[observations of] the sun the sky would be darkened and covered
with clouds, and we with gloom. The shore was on our left hand--at a
distance of about two leguas at times, as we found out afterward; but
it was so covered with clouds that we could not descry it. We proceeded
for one day with a most favoring wind and weather straight toward our
objective point. Our people fancied that it was an immense bay, and
seeing land to the north, went thither in that mistaken belief. The
current opposed us so powerfully that, the wind having freshened
considerably, we could not gain a palmo of land. As we then were, we
should have reached Macasar in one week; but my sins were the reason
why we did not arrive until the following October. To reach that land,
we placed ourselves in the care of God and fortune. On Holy Saturday,
(the last of March) when we tried to cast anchor we felt the boat
ground upon some shoals. I cannot describe the confusion that arose,
and what I saw and suffered. All cried out "Lower the sails!" but no
one attempted to lower them. I got into a corner to commend myself
to God, for I thought that the end had come. The sea went down,
and we saw that we were surrounded by sandbanks and shoals, except
for the channel, through which we had sailed under the guidance of
God. The stern was in fourteen brazas and the bow was hard and fast. We
worked more than half the night; and, luckily for us, the weather was
clear and calm. The sea rose, and, with the tow-ropes that were cast
out and the other efforts that were made, the ship was set afloat
without having sprung a leak. At dawn we set sail once more. O! what
a sad Easter was ours! Our supplies were daily diminishing, and the
perplexity in which we were was increasing hourly. In fine, after a
week we found ourselves embayed, and could find no outlet into the
sea. Small boats were plying to and fro in that region. They took
us for pirates, and we took them for robbers, so that we fled from
each other without finding any way of getting light on the place
where we were. We had already found by the sun that we were lost,
for we were two degrees in north latitude, which did not accord
with our sailing directions. We spent another week in getting out of
that bay. We saw clearly the land of the other side, and as we had
good weather to cross the commander wished, contrary to the opinion
of all, to remain and to anchor until next day. As we were eating
he said to us: "All oppose me. Is not your Reverence of my opinion
that we should cross on Saturday morning?" I answered "Sir, the best
time for crossing is when God gives us a good wind." He was silent,
but stuck to his opinion. At three in the afternoon on the second
day of the crossing, on the eve of St. Mark, so strong a southwester
arose, that it was necessary to run before the wind, near shore,
without knowing of the shoals that were there. That was one of the
most wretched nights that I have passed on sea. The mainsail was torn
into shreds, the yard was broken, the foremast was snapped off, and
the rod of the steering-gear was broken. We all went into the cabin,
and recited the rosary and the litanies of our Lady, waiting for what
God was going to do with us. All had already confessed. After midnight,
being worn out, I fell asleep in a little corner. When I awakened,
the wind had ceased, but the dead seas troubled us greatly. We saw
land near us, and certain landmarks were recognized, by which we
were not a little consoled. We had been one and one-half months in
that region. We there encountered the island called Diablo [i.e.,
Devil's Island], and we could have entered the kingdom of Totole,
if our courage had not failed us. The commander resolved to turn
back and go to the kingdom of Bohol, [30] in order to lay in fresh
supplies. The journey was half over when the wind veered to the bow,
and we again ran before it. Thus did we plow through that sea. We
returned the second time to Bohol. We were all but gone, and it was
my counsel to return. The commander said: "Father, some angel spoke
through your Reverence's lips; for it is a foregone conclusion that
we would perish if the furious wind which arose had taken us where we
were the day before." Some things were purchased. We carried thence
an Indian from Manila, now half Moroized, who afterward proved a great
consolation to us, as he was most experienced on that coast. On Corpus
Christi day we anchored near Totole, where we found Captain Navarro,
who was also going to Macasar in another champan. We were very joyful
at that, although our joy was short-lived. By the variation of time
during the voyage which is made through Eastern India, it is well
known that twelve hours are gained, while a like time is lost in
our Indias. From Terrenate to India the reckoning of the Portuguese
is observed. According to our reckoning, we reached that place on
Corpus Christi day (a Thursday) which those who were en route from
Terrenate reckoned as Friday; so that we had eaten flesh at noon,
and at night when we were in the port we ate fish. We lost that day,
as well as the following one, which was Saturday--so that, if we had
anchored at midnight, we would properly have had a week without any
Friday, and only five days long. As for the divine office, although
I was not under obligation to recite all the prayers for Friday,
I recited, since I had time and to spare, those for Thursday and
those for Friday on the very day of Corpus Christi.
3. We bought a quantity of sago [31] there, called by the Indians in
Manila yoro. It is the heart of certain palm-trees; when soaked, it
makes a yellow meal (properly it looks like yellow sand). Certain cakes
are made from it which serve that people in lieu of bread; we lived on
it for six months. Although it is a good food for Europeans, at times
it fails to satisfy the hunger. Sometimes it seemed insipid food, but
at others it tasted good. That tree is so flexible that it is never cut
although it may be more than one vara in circumference. In Manila the
Indians eat this food in time of need. That caused us considerable pity
when we saw it, for really it is only pounded wood; but then it seemed
to us to be a great dainty. That site [i.e., Totole] lay in a trifle
over one degree north latitude. From ten until two the sun beat down
fiercely, but, at that hour, a heavy shower fell every day, and there
were terrible thunders and heavy winds that cooled off everything;
and the nights were so cool that we had to put on heavy clothing.
4. Captain Navarro and the commander agreed between themselves to
winter there. Our anger at that was great. Two other passengers and
I tried to buy a boat from the king and to go away in it. Having made
the agreement and paid the money, the king went back on his bargain,
and kept more than one-half of the sum paid. He was a great rogue,
although he treated me with much honor, and always seated me near
himself. Some very ridiculous things happened to me with him. His
palace was a little hut of bamboos and straw; but he bore himself
there with an incredible majesty, and all who spoke to him prostrated
themselves on the ground. He gave us a banquet, in which he offered us
some sago cakes, and some very small fish cooked without a particle
of salt. The prince died there, and I confess that I was astonished
at the burial. The king and queen went to his funeral, the king with
wooden shoes and the queen barefoot. When they returned, as the queen
was going up to her house, a female servant washed her feet on the
ladder. For twenty-four hours, some swivel-guns which stood at the
palace door were fired every half hour. The king went into retreat,
and would not grant audience for many days. He made an auction of
all his possessions, in order to express his grief; but no one dared
buy anything. We noted a very extraordinary thing there, namely,
that the majority of those people did not care for silver. If we
showed them an eight-real piece and a single real, they preferred
the single real to the eight-real piece. As long as the single reals
lasted we lived cheaply, but when we ran out of them, they refused to
give us as much for an eight-real piece as they had given us for a
single real. We suffered great hunger. One day I went to the beach,
and encountered a negro cook of the commander, who was cooking some
fish. I asked him to give me one or two of them, but he replied:
"Father, they have been counted." "Then for the love of God, will
you give me at least a little of that hot water?" "Yes," he said,
"I will give you that." I went up along the beach, where I found a
dirty half of a cocoanut-shell, deeply encrusted with sand; I washed it
with my hands and got my hot water in it. I put into it a half-crust
of dry sago (even though it remain a whole day in water, the water
will not penetrate it), and I managed to eat some mouthfuls of it,
although it was very hard on my teeth, and drank my hot water. With
that, I was content to take a bit of exercise, and to finish with
prayer what was lacking to me [for my meal].
5. When the tide went down, the seamen went to catch shellfish on the
reefs which were exposed. They caught curious kinds of snails, toads,
and snakes of a thousand forms and shapes. Everything tasted good,
and we grew fat. I reached such a state that I stole sago, when I got a
chance and could do it secretly. Many times I asked what dainties were
more necessary than a little rice boiled in water. In Manila I observed
very strictly the rules laid down by the physicians that I should not
eat butter, or this or that; but during the voyage I ate such things,
that I know not how I lived. Qui dat nivem sicut lanam [32] applies
here. We left Totole on the first of August. Those cruel men put us
all in great risk of losing our lives; four of us had already died,
and others of us were sick. I noted one very curious thing, namely,
that a poor negro, who had embarked only to beg alms in Macasar,
began the voyage so weak that he could not stand upright. Yet all
that hardship and misery (in which he had the greatest share) cured
him completely; and he fattened so much that he did not appear to
be the same man. At sunset of the day of our father St. Dominic,
we crossed the line and entered south latitude. The line crosses
two islands, called Dos Hermanas [i.e., Two Sisters]. The wind blew
so cold off shore that we all wrapped ourselves in all the clothes
that we had. In Europa, in more than 50 degrees north latitude, men
were burning with the heat at that time, while we under the line were
shivering with cold. Who can understand that philosophy?... Two days
after, we reached the kingdom of Caile, [33] which lies in one and
one-half degrees south latitude. It has an admirable bay, more than
three leguas long and two wide. As soon as we had anchored, a Manila
Indian came to us, one Juan de la Cruz. He read very devoutly, and
had his rosary about his neck. I ransomed him for twenty pesos and
took him to Macasar, where he proved to be a great rogue. He told
us that there were two Portuguese there, and we went immediately
to see them. On the way, we visited a petty king who regaled us on
cocoanuts. Captain Navarro asked for some water to drink. The queen
said that there was none in the house, and the king in anger ordered
them to go for some immediately. On hearing that, the queen went out of
her apartment instantly, and having taken a large bamboo went straight
to the river (which was near) for water; then she returned and we had
our drink. At that place one of the Portuguese overtook us; the other
was very sick. We went to his house, where Moros, both men and women,
came to see us; and among them, those infernal monsters of men clad in
women's clothes, who are married publicly to other men. Nothing has
ever surprised me more than that. The Portuguese told us there that
there were men who preferred to marry these [creatures] rather than
women. They gave two reasons, one that they look after the welfare
of their husbands carefully; the other that they were very diligent
and rich, because they alone could be Orives.
6. That is the kingdom where the men and women dress only in paper;
and, since it is a material which does not last long, the women are
continually working at it with great industry. The material consists
of the bark of a small tree, [34] which we saw there. They beat it
out with a stone into curious patterns, and make it as they desire,
coarse, fine, and most fine; and they dye it in all colors. Twenty
paces away, these appear like fine camlets. Much of it is taken to
Manila and Macao, where I saw excellent bed-curtains [made of it]; in
cold weather they are as good as one can desire. In the rainy season,
which is the great enemy of paper, the remedy applied by those people
is to undress and put one's clothes under one's arm.
7. The men are always busy in making cocoanut oil, of which they sell
considerable, and pay much in tribute to the king of Macasar. While
we were there, he sent for ninety thousand celemins of oil. The
palm-groves in those fields are astonishing. The bananas which that
land produces are the best in the world, and innumerable. The natives
live on them and sow no rice nor any other kind of seed. We remained in
those villages for one week, without eating anything else than bananas
or drinking anything else than [the juice of] cocoanuts. They raise
buffaloes, goats, and horses, which they sell. When they hold their
general assemblies, they eat one or two buffaloes, half raw and half
roasted. The villages are excellently arranged, and the council-houses
are admirable. The climate is fine, and the people would pay homage
to the Spaniards very willingly, as we were told there, merely to be
freed from the tyrannical dominion of the king of Macasar.
8. I afterward ransomed another Manila Indian. He was sick, and I
confessed him; but when we arrived at Macasar he died. I gave six
pesos for him, and would doubtless have given my habit. We left the
bay, but on St. Bartholomew's eve we were obliged to put back into
port because of heavy seas. On the Nativity of our Lady we left once
more, and by slow sailing we reached the kingdom of Mamuyo. [35]
We made port with great difficulty, and there all the sailors fell
sick. Together with the sick Portuguese, and two servants whom we
had, I bought a small boat. While it was being mended, I rested and
looked after the sick. I saw the king's palace; it was an excellent
structure, and made of fine woods. We took our departure, the two
champans remaining anchored there. It cost us our triumph to escape
from some dangers; but we passed the nights with great ease and
rest. Of a truth, we committed some acts of rashness. When we reached
the kingdom of Mandar [36] we found another king, already an old
man. He treated us well, and immediately sent the prince to see me;
he was a fine young fellow. Moreover, we went to Macasar together,
which is the capital of all the island. [There] we found the people
more civilized. It was God's will, and was due to His mercy, that I
should reach Macasar nine months and three days after leaving Manila,
although that voyage had never taken more than forty days. I thought
that I had reached Paradise. I found two members of my order there,
and I thought them two angels; and they certainly were that for me,
for they regaled me as much as their poverty permitted. As for me,
it is certain that nothing gladdened me so much as to see myself away
from the sea, among my friends, and where I could say mass.