Departure from the Coast of Veragua.--Arrival at Jamaica.--Stranding of
the Ships.
[1503.]
The wind at length becoming favorable, Columbus set sail, towards the end
of April, from the disastrous coast of Veragua. The wretched condition of
the ships, the enfeebled state of the crews, and the scarcity of
provisions, determined him to make the best of his way to Hispaniola,
where he might refit his vessels and procure the necessary supplies for
the voyage to Europe. To the surprise of his pilot and crews, however, on
making sail, he stood again along the coast to the eastward, instead of
steering north, which they considered the direct route to Hispaniola. They
fancied that he intended to proceed immediately for Spain, and murmured
loudly at the madness of attempting so long a voyage, with ships destitute
of stores and consumed by the worms. Columbus and his brother, however,
had studied the navigation of those seas with a more observant and
experienced eye. They considered it advisable to gain a considerable
distance to the east, before standing across for Hispaniola, to avoid
being swept away, far below their destined port, by the strong currents
setting constantly to the west. [171] The admiral, however, did not impart
his reasons to the pilots, being anxious to keep the knowledge of his
routes as much to himself as possible, seeing that there were so many
adventurers crowding into the field, and ready to follow on his track. He
even took from the mariners their charts, [172] and boasts, in a letter to
the sovereigns, that none of his pilots would be able to retrace the route
to and from Veragua, nor to describe where it was situated.
Disregarding the murmurs of his men, therefore, he continued along the
coast eastward as far as Puerto Bello. Here he was obliged to leave one of
the caravels, being so pierced by worms, that it was impossible to keep
her afloat. All the crews were now crowded into two caravels, and these
were little better than mere wrecks. The utmost exertions were necessary
to keep them free from water; while the incessant labor of the pumps bore
hard on men enfeebled by scanty diet, and dejected by various hardships.
Continuing onward, they passed Port Retrete, and a number of islands to
which the admiral gave the name of Las Barbas, now termed the Mulatas, a
little beyond Point Blas. Here he supposed that he had arrived at the
province of Mangi in the territories of the Grand Khan, described by Marco
Polo as adjoining to Cathay. [173] He continued on about ten leagues
farther, until he approached the entrance of what is at present called
the Gulf of Darien. Here he had a consultation with his captains and
pilots, who remonstrated at his persisting in this struggle against
contrary winds and currents, representing the lamentable plight of the
ships, and the infirm state of the crews. [174] Bidding farewell,
therefore, to the main-land, he stood northward on the 1st of May, in
quest of Hispaniola. As the wind was easterly, with a strong current
setting to the west, he kept as near the wind as possible. So little did
his pilots know of their situation, that they supposed themselves to the
east of the Caribbee Islands, whereas the admiral feared that, with all
his exertions, he should fall to the westward of Hispaniola. [175] His
apprehensions proved to be well founded; for, on the 10th of the month,
he came in sight of two small low islands to the northwest of
Hispaniola, to which, from the great quantities of tortoises seen about
them, he gave the name of the Tortugas; they are now known as the Caymans.
Passing wide of these, and continuing directly north, he found himself, on
the 30th of May, among the cluster of islands on the south side of Cuba,
to which he had formerly given the name of the Queen's Gardens; having
been carried between eight and nine degrees west of his destined port.
Here he cast anchor near one of the Keys, about ten leagues from the main
island. His crews were suffering excessively through scanty provisions and
great fatigue; nothing was left of the sea-stores but a little biscuit,
oil, and vinegar; and they were obliged to labor incessantly at the pumps,
to keep the vessels afloat. They had scarcely anchored at these islands,
when there came on, at midnight, a sudden tempest, of such violence, that,
according to the strong expression of Columbus, it seemed as if the world
would dissolve. [176] They lost three of their anchors almost immediately,
and the caravel Bermuda was driven with such violence upon the ship of
the admiral, that the bow of the one, and the stern of the other, were
greatly shattered. The sea running high, and the wind being boisterous,
the vessels chafed and injured each other dreadfully, and it was with
great difficulty that they were separated. One anchor only remained to
the admiral's ship, and this saved him from being driven upon the rocks;
but at daylight the cable was found nearly worn asunder. Had the darkness
continued an hour longer, he could scarcely have escaped shipwreck. [177]
At the end of six days, the weather having moderated, he resumed his
course, standing eastward for Hispaniola: "his people," as he says,
"dismayed and down-hearted; almost all his anchors lost, and his vessels
bored as full of holes as a honeycomb." After struggling against contrary
winds and the usual currents from the east, he reached Cape Cruz, and
anchored at a village in the province of Macaca, [178] where he had
touched in 1494, in his voyage along the southern coast of Cuba. Here he
was detained by head winds for several days, during which he was supplied
with cassava bread by the natives. Making sail again, he endeavored to
beat up to Hispaniola; but every effort was in vain. The winds and
currents continued adverse; the leaks continually gained upon his
vessels, though the pumps were kept incessantly going, and the seamen
even baled the water out with buckets and kettles. The admiral now stood,
in despair, for the island of Jamaica, to seek some secure port; for
there was imminent danger of foundering at sea. On the eve of St. John,
the 23d of June, they put into Puerto Bueno, now called Dry Harbor, but
met with none of the natives from whom they could obtain provisions, nor
was there any fresh water to be had in the neighborhood. Suffering from
hunger and thirst, they sailed eastward, on the following day, to another
harbor, to which the admiral on his first visit to the island had given
the name of Port Santa Gloria.
Here, at last, Columbus had to give up his long and arduous struggle
against the unremitting persecution of the elements. His ships, reduced to
mere wrecks, could no longer keep the sea, and were ready to sink even in
port. He ordered them, therefore, to be run aground, within a bow-shot of
the shore, and fastened together, side by side. They soon filled with
water to the decks. Thatched cabins were then erected at the prow and
stern for the accommodation of the crews, and the wreck was placed in the
best possible state of defence. Thus castled in the sea, he trusted to be
able to repel any sudden attack of the natives, and at the same time to
keep his men from roving about the neighborhood and indulging in their
usual excesses. No one was allowed to go on shore without especial
license, and the utmost precaution was taken to prevent any offence being
given to the Indians. Any exasperation of them might be fatal to the
Spaniards in their present forlorn situation. A firebrand thrown into
their wooden fortress might wrap it in flames, and leave them defenceless
amidst hostile thousands.