THE PERIOD OF COLUMBUS
It is curious to observe, as one reads history, that many an invention,
or a practical idea belonging to modern times, has really existed for
century and century, though in an undeveloped condition. The modern
liquid compass is an excellent instance.
“Ere men the virtue of the magnet found,
The ocean scarcely heard a human sound.”
But inasmuch as the ship is at the mercy of the sea, and since the
sea is a continually undulating entity, a compass which does not have
a corresponding adaptability is inadequate. This fact, as one might
naturally suppose, was appreciated by the early navigators. Ford[43]
quotes Bailak Kibdjaki, an Arabian writer of A.D. 1242, and shows that
at least a crude kind of liquid compass was in use by the Oriental
navigators. “The captains navigating the Syrian Sea,” says Kibdjaki,
“when the night is so dark as to conceal from view the stars, which
might direct their course according to the position of the four
cardinal points, take a basin full of water; they then drive a needle
into a wooden peg or cornstick, so as to form the shape of a cross,
and throw it into the basin of water, on the surface of which it
floats. They afterwards take a loadstone of sufficient size to fill
the palm of the hand, or even smaller, bring it to the surface of the
water, give the hand a rotary motion towards the right, so that the
needle turns on the water’s surface. They then suddenly and quickly
withdraw the hand, when the two points of the needle face north and
south. They have given me ocular demonstration of this process during
our sea voyage from Syria to Alexandria in the year 640 of the Hegira.”
By the thirteenth century the people dwelling along the Mediterranean
littoral had long since become skilled seamen if not consummate
navigators. There is in the British Museum a volume by Francesco da
Barberino, entitled “Documenti d’Amore.” The author was born in 1264,
and in the ninth lection of this volume has so much to say about
nautical service that this forms what is really the first work on
seamanship that was ever written. Space will not allow more than a
cursory reference to this, but it contains evidence of the system into
which the Mediterranean sea-service had developed. The old custom which
was in vogue during classical times of limiting the sailing season
to certain months was retained. Thus Barberino remarks that the time
for navigation was from April to the end of September. Furthermore it
was not custom merely, but actual law. For maritime legislation had
originated during the twelfth century, and was continued in the “Loi de
Trani,” the “Code Navale des Rhodiens,” the “Code de la Mer,” and the
famous Laws of Oleron. In fact only the lawless, avaricious merchant
captains ventured to put to sea in the other six months of the year;
none but these cared to venture forth sailing through the long dark
nights, and the fogs, storms, and snow.
Before the Iberian peninsula became so intimate with the problems of
navigation, Venice was, of course, the great medieval home of the
southern sailor, and those in authority saw that the marine affairs
were properly looked after. The captains of all commercial ships
sailing under the Venetian flag were, in 1569, forbidden to leave
Alexandria, Syria, or Constantinople any time between November 15
and January 12. Such was the motherly care displayed for the State’s
shipping; but it is only fair to add that before very long such
restrictions on navigation were removed.
Very interesting, too, is the advice which Barberino gives to pilots.
Remember, if you please, that the Mediterranean was the happy hunting
ground of professional pirates, and never a merchant ship put to sea
on a long voyage but she ran the risk of encountering these corsairs.
Therefore all pilots of trading craft were advised to make their ships
as little visible as possible. It is well for them to lower the white
sail when clear of the land and to hoist a small black one. Especially
at break of day is it unsafe to lower sail until out of sight of the
shore. “Then,” suggests Barberino, “send the top-man aloft to see if
an enemy be in sight.” Many another useful “wrinkle” is given, as, for
instance, how to act when the rudders carry away. Apparently the old
classical custom of a rudder affixed to each quarter, and both a small
and large mast and sail, was still retained. That smaller black sail
just mentioned was known among the Venetian seamen by the nickname of
“wolf,” from its colour and cunning. The mainmast being carried away,
then the smaller one, usually employed for the “wolf,” was stepped and
used. And if, in turn, that also went by the board, then the lateen
yard was to be used until dawn returned. There are directions, also, to
make a jury-rudder by towing a spar astern.
During the night, as these ships sailed along over the heaving
Mediterranean and Adriatic with a great belly of canvas reaching down
from the massive lateen yard, strict silence was maintained on board.
After dark not even the boatswain was allowed to use his whistle, nor
were bells to be sounded--not an avoidable noise of any kind was to be
suffered lest the presence of the richly laden trading ship should be
suddenly revealed to some pirate hovering in the vicinity. The earliest
Venetian statutes affecting ships belong to the year 1172, and these,
after being considerably amplified in the thirteenth century, were
again added to in the fifteenth, after the conquest of Constantinople.
Every possible detail seems to have been regulated in connection with
these merchant ships. The general supervision was attended to with
the most meticulous care. The construction of these merchant ships
themselves, the quantity and quality of their cargo, the number of
their crew, their anchors, ropes, and gear generally, all came under
this control.
Additional to the crew there were carried a couple of scribes on each
of these trading ships, for the purpose of keeping an exact account
of the freights. The skipper, or _padrone_, was compelled to be on
board his ship by the hour of departure, and was not allowed to quit
his ship till she reached her port. The accommodation for passengers
and crew was probably but primitive, and they apparently catered for
themselves; for each man, whether one of the crew or the passengers,
was suggestively permitted to bring with him a mattress and cushion,
a trunk for his belongings, a flask of wine, a flask of water,
together with flour and biscuit. Even in the early seventeenth century
the men on the Spanish warships used to cook each for himself, in
contradistinction to the English seamen, who had their meals prepared
by the ship’s cook. Though the Venetian ships up till the fifteenth
century did not dare to venture out into the “Green Sea of Darkness,”
as the Arabs termed the Atlantic, yet we cannot afford to despise ships
and men who regularly traded between the Adriatic and the Levant. Even
a modern sailing ship would have some difficulty in beating the passage
which one of these craft made in the year 1408, when she sailed from
Venice to Jaffa in thirty-three days, calling at various ports on the
way.
Venice might have continued to hold the supreme position on the
sea had not Portugal and Spain taken to the ocean, and studied the
problems of navigation on a much grander and more scientific scale.
The discovery of America, and the doubling of the Cape of Good Hope,
the opening up of a sea route to India, all combined to take away
from Venice her commercial prestige, at any rate afloat. Relying
partly on the newly adopted magnetised needle, partly on their crude
astronomical instruments and tables of the movements of sun and moon;
trusting also to the most careful observations of weather, colour of
the sea, seaweed, tree branches and other objects found floating on
the surface of the ocean; noting carefully by night, as mariners for
centuries before them had been careful to notice, the north star and
other stellar bodies; but at the same time lacking reliable knowledge
of ocean currents and trade winds--the Portuguese discoverers were able
to keep the sea for months, independent of and out of sight of land,
an achievement which had not been brought about since the days when
the Phœnicians circumnavigated Africa. Venice had had her day; just as
Egypt, Phœnicia, Greece, and Rome before her, just as Spain, England,
Holland, and France later on were to become great maritime Powers.
And so we come to that prince of navigators, that consummate seaman,
that greatest of all maritime discoverers, Columbus, and we shall
proceed to learn from contemporary accounts the kind of seamanship
and navigation which he employed on his memorable voyages, the life
which he and his companions lived in those historic cruises into the
unknown. Happily Columbus’s log is still preserved to us. Even though
it is somewhat mutilated, yet it is full of illuminating information,
and must be regarded as “the most important document in the whole
range of the history of geographical discovery.” The methods, the
instruments, even the ships employed by Columbus were merely typical of
the best which then were used. Emphatically they were not otherwise.
Therefore if we note carefully the ways of the _Santa Maria_, the
_Pinta_, and _Nina_, we are really focussing the most expert seamanship
and navigation of the fifteenth century. There were certainly ships
afloat as good as, if not better than the _Santa Maria_; but what is
to be remembered is that those illustrious explorers of the fifteenth
and sixteenth centuries were really expert navigators, and not merely
daring seamen, astute traders, or courageous soldiers. Columbus, Drake,
Davis, and so on were, according to their times, really scientific
men. I wish to emphasise this because the world is wont to admire
their valour and enterprise while forgetting their mental abilities
and achievements. As we shall see presently, Columbus’s navigation was
always better than that of the skippers of the _Nina_ and _Pinta_.
Drake was an excellent navigator, especially in regard to astronomical
navigation. Davis, as anyone who cares to read his works may see for
himself, was most learned in the theory of finding one’s way across the
trackless sea.
In the light of modern knowledge, modern practice, and modern nautical
instruments, some of the errors in navigation of those days may
seem to us ridiculous, until we recollect that these men were really
fumbling in the darkness with nothing to guide them except moderate
knowledge, inefficient aids, and their own natural instincts. Long
before Christopher Columbus set out to the westward he had studied
cosmography and astrology at the University of Pavia. He had also
visited Lisbon, whither the fame of the achievements of Prince Henry
the Navigator’s illustrious captains had attracted other capable
seamen, among whom were such men as Da Gama, and his own elder brother
Bartolomeo. At this time Lisbon was still the centre of all nautical
and geographical enterprise. Here Bartolomeo was working as the head of
a school of cartography, and here Christopher had every opportunity for
studying the charts and logs of the greatest living sea captains after
Bartolomeo had returned home. He had the dual advantage of learning
all that both Genoa and Lisbon could teach him. Furthermore, he was a
practical seaman, and had already sailed as far to the north as Iceland.
We need not stop to inquire whether Columbus was aware that already
many years before his time the Vikings had discovered North America.
It is at least most improbable that he was aware of this fact. What is
certain is that, fortified with all the nautical lore obtainable from
the greatest living Peninsular sea captains, he set out with a firm
conviction that the world was a sphere, and he was hoping to prove that
conviction. Himself a gifted cartographer, he would make his charts as
he went along. From Palos, then the most flourishing port of Andalusia,
a village that contained little else among its inhabitants than some
of the finest seamen-explorers in the world, he set sail with a fair
wind on August 3--a Friday--1492, in the _Santa Maria_. Accompanying
her were the two smaller craft _Nina_ and _Pinta_. “Carabela” was
not then applied to a particular species of ship, but only to certain
vessels of medium tonnage suitable for the diverse purposes of fishing,
coasting, and exploring.[44] In the Columbine Library at Seville there
is a map of Española drawn with a pen. In two places are seen outline
sketches of three sailing craft. Competent critics affirm that these
sketches were made by Columbus, and depict his squadron of three during
his first voyage to the West in 1492. If this opinion be correct,
then it is certain that the first ship was three-masted, so was the
second--doubtless the _Santa Maria_, the biggest of the three--but the
third ship is only two-masted. The first and second ships have a small
square foresail on the foremast; square mainsail and topsail on the
main, with a lateen on the mizzen. But the third ship has a lateen on
both masts.
The _Santa Maria_ carried a crew of seventy, together with artillery
and stores enough for one year. In addition she had a large amount of
merchandise, which she could barter with the natives. Her displacement
has been estimated as about 200 tons, and some modern writers have
suggested that this was all too small a ship to cross the Atlantic.
Columbus, however, thought otherwise; for on his second voyage he had
demanded smaller vessels, his reason being that those of his first
expedition, on account of their size and draught, had caused him so
much anxiety. As to the canvas which the _Santa Maria_ carried, this
matter is instantly settled by reference to Columbus’s own log. If
we refer to his entry dated Wednesday, October 24, we find that: “I
remained thus with little wind until the afternoon, when it began to
blow fresh. I set all the sails in the ship, the mainsail with two
bonnets, the foresail, spritsail, mizzen, maintopsail, and the boat’s
sail on the poop.” (The bonnets were additional pieces of canvas laced
on to the foot of the sail)[45].
The time on board was evidently kept by hour-glasses of half or a
whole hour. Thus under date of Tuesday, January 22, when homeward
bound, his log reads: “They made 8 miles an hour during five glasses
... afterwards they went N.E. by N. for six glasses.... Then during
four glasses of the second watch N.E. at six miles an hour.” But the
reader must be cautious not to accept the speed given as conclusive.
One of the greatest drawbacks to navigation in those days was the
absence of any instrument which would record the speed through the
water. The log had yet to be invented, and the mariner could only make
a conjectural estimate of the ship’s speed by looking over the side and
noting the time it took the bubbles to come aft from the bow, or by
throwing a piece of wood overboard from the bows and noticing how long
it took for the stern to be abreast of that object. Many a steamship
traveller gambling on the ship’s speed does the same thing to-day; many
a fore-and-aft sailorman with no patent log still employs a similar
method.
Columbus’s journal shows the kind of helmsman which he had to put up
with. On September 9, when the ship’s course was west, the narrator
on board wrote: “The sailors steered badly, letting the ship fall off
to N.E., and even more; respecting which the Admiral complained many
times.” On September 13 Columbus observed a variation in the compass.
“On this day, at the commencement of the night, the needles turned a
half point to N.W., and in the morning they turned somewhat more N.W.”
For up till then no one had observed the variation of the needle.
[Illustration: FIFTEENTH-CENTURY CARAVEL.
Drawn from a woodcut after a delineation by Columbus in the Latin
translation of his letter dated March 1, 1493, to Don Raphael de Sanxis
(Treasurer of the King of Spain), in the Library at Milano.
(See next plate.)]
No navigator could have been more careful than Columbus. Ever on the
alert, he was far too anxious about the safety of his fleet to neglect
one single precaution. As they voyaged, the difference in the saltness
of the sea was noted; and though for eleven days the wind blew steadily
from aft so that the sails required no trimming, yet all the while
Columbus was busy with astrolabe and sounding lead endeavouring to fix
his position in regard to the land which they had long since left. From
Wednesday, February 13, till the following Saturday, he never slept
a wink, being far too anxious to leave the navigation to others. The
pilots of the _Nina_ and _Pinta_ on the voyage out used to work out
their positions for themselves. On September 19 the _Nina_ made the
Canaries to be 440 leagues astern, the _Pinta_ estimated the distance
as 420, but on board Columbus’s ship the reckoning was 400 leagues,
and this was the most correct of the three. (It should be added that
Columbus used Italian miles, reckoning four Italian miles to one
league.) He compared notes with the pilots under him, and manœuvred
his ship so that the captain of the _Pinta_ was able to pass his chart
on board the _Santa Maria_ at the end of a line. Columbus, after
conferring with his own pilots and mariners, plotted on the chart the
position of the ship. Here and there all the way through Columbus’s
journal, both in those lines written by his own hand and in those in
another handwriting, there rises up, quite clearly, evidence of the
knowledge which this man had been collecting before setting out. “The
admiral was aware,” says the Journal, “that most of the islands held by
the Portuguese were discovered by the flight of birds.” Just as the
Viking seamen had discovered land in exactly the reverse manner--by
letting loose birds from the ship.
Nor are there lacking plenty of references to the seamanship of these
times--the kind of seamanship, we may not unjustly assume, that was
employed alike by the Spanish traders who crossed the Bay of Biscay,
and sailed up the English Channel to Flanders, and those who went
exploring to the southward. No one better than these medieval and
Elizabethan sailormen appreciated the importance of having a ship
that would heave-to in bad weather or at night. You will remember
that dramatic incident at the end of Columbus’s first voyage across
the Atlantic, when the distant light, as of a candle going up and
down in the hand of someone proceeding from one house to another,
indicated that at last the new land had been found. “At two hours after
midnight,” says the log, “the land was sighted.” Then (continues the
narrative), “they shortened sail, and lay by under mainsail without the
bonnets. The vessels were hove-to waiting for daylight.”
And again, when on the homeward voyage after the loss of the _Santa
Maria_ the _Nina_ was caught in a heavy gale of wind, we find from her
log that she stowed canvas, but “carried the mainsail very closely
reefed, so as just to give her steerage-way, and proceeded thus for
three hours, making 20 miles.” During that same dreadful night, when
they all but foundered, Columbus kept showing lanterns to the _Pinta_,
which answered back by the same method. “The want of ballast increased
the danger of the ship, which had become light owing to the consumption
of provisions and water,” so they filled with sea water the barrels
which had contained wine and drinking water, and employed these to
steady the vessel. “Afterwards,” continues the same narrative, “in the
showers and squalls, the wind veered to the west, and they went before
it, with only the foresail, in a very confused sea for five hours.
They made 2½ leagues N.E. They had taken in the reefed mainsail, for
fear some wave of the sea should carry all away.” And when the weather
presently moderated, Columbus “added the bonnet to the mainsail.”
The _Santa Maria_, with her high poop and forecastle, was not a
particularly dry ship. On September 8, when outward bound, her log
admits that near Teneriffe she “took in much sea over the bows.” But
whether that was through bad seamanship or bad luck one cannot say. It
is certain that, at any rate, the crew were very far from perfect in
their art; otherwise the _Santa Maria_ would never have been wrecked
in that totally inexcusable manner. It was not the fault of Columbus.
He had not had any rest for two days and a night, and those of us who
have been ceaselessly on watch for that time, know how great a strain
it puts on a man’s eyes and nerves and physical endurance. So, as
the wind was very light, Columbus went below at eleven o’clock that
night. It was so beautifully fine, and the sea was so calm, that the
steersman also was tempted to sleep; and, giving the tiller in charge
of a boy, he shut his eyes and dozed off. This was distinctly contrary
to Columbus’s orders, for the boys were forbidden ever to touch the
helm. At midnight, you will remember, there was a flat calm, but still
imperceptibly the poor _Santa Maria_ was being carried on to a sandbank
by the current. Very gently she took the ground, but when the boy
noticed that the helm refused to move, but that the tide was rushing
by the ship and tumbling over the shoal, he became alarmed and cried
out. Up came Columbus from his cabin under the poop, who, taking in
the situation at a glance, began to give his orders in a cool and
seaman-like manner. The first command showed that he knew his business,
when he had ordered a boat on the poop to be lowered, and the crew to
“lay out an anchor astern,” as the log states, to haul her off. But the
men in the boat, being less anxious for the safety of the ship than for
their own bodies, paid no regard to the kedging of the _Santa Maria_,
but rowed off to the next ship. Then, finally, Columbus was compelled
to order the masts to be cut away, and the ship to be lightened; but
it was of no avail. The water rose inside, and her timbers opened. But
right to the end Columbus the discoverer showed that he was every bit
as fine a seaman as he was a clever navigator.
[Illustration: “ORDERED ... THE CREW TO LAY OUT AN ANCHOR ASTERN.”]
If we would endeavour to fill in the details to our mental picture
of the _Santa Maria_, we can find much that is interesting. We have
already been thinking of her as a three-masted caravel. Let us step
on board and tread her single deck at the waist between the foremast
and main. As we examine the gear we shall find it rough but strong.
The cordage is of hemp, the masts are serviceable, but only rudely
finished. The mainmast measures 2½ feet in diameter, whilst the
yards--like the yard of the lateen-rigged craft--follow the historic
custom of the Mediterranean of being made of two pieces lashed together
at the centre. Aloft flies the admiral’s flag of Columbus, and this
he always carried in his hand when going ashore to take possession of
newly discovered territory.
The hull seems to have been constructed somewhat roughly, and iron
nails are already showing their rusty contact with the sea water.
There is precious little ornamentation, too, for there was not much
decoration expended on ships in those days, and certainly not on a
Flemish merchantman. The hull was painted with tar, whilst below the
water-line it was greased so as to minimise the friction through the
water. To do this it was customary to beach the ship, and on two
occasions during his voyage Columbus saw that this was done. On deck
a couple of hatchways led to the hold. The quarter-deck extended from
about midships to the stern, and above this rose the poop-deck. On the
latter were the quarters of the admiral. We know from this journal that
Columbus’s bed was draped in red, and that there was certainly room
for several persons to be seated in this cabin. There was a press for
his clothes, a stool, a couple of chairs, and a dining-table for two
persons, the furniture being all fashioned in the Gothic style which
was then prevalent. Add to this inventory charts and books, as well as
an astrolabe, and you have the picture of his cabin complete.
When getting under way, the _Santa Maria_ shipped her anchor by means
of the fore yard-arm. In those days there was of course no steering
wheel, but the tiller came right in under the quarter-deck, and a bar
was attached to the forward end of the tiller. There is and has been
for so many centuries such a close relation between ships and hammocks
that it is interesting to observe that hammocks were introduced by
Columbus and his companions after contact with the West Indians, who
were accustomed to use them. We cannot, indeed, envy the life of the
seamen on these Columbine ships. There was certainly a galley made of
brick with an iron cross-piece, but the food, which consisted of bacon,
beans, salt fish, cheese, and bread, was, thanks to the heat and damp
of the hold, in a very bad condition.
We shall speak in greater detail on a later page concerning the
astrolabe, but whilst we are considering these fifteenth-century ships
and the surprisingly good landfalls which Columbus made, it is worth
while to remember that observations were frequently made only with
great difficulty. “The North Star,” says the log, “appeared very high,
as it does off Cape St. Vincent. The Admiral was unable to take the
altitude either with the astrolabe or with the quadrant, because the
rolling caused by the waves prevented it.” We cannot be positively sure
of all the crew which sailed on board the _Santa Maria_, for some of
the papers which could have helped the historian are missing. But, in
addition to Columbus, she carried one master, two pilots, a surgeon,
a quartermaster, a clerk, an interpreter, a carpenter, a caulker, a
cooper, a steward, a gunner, and a bugler, as well as the gentlemen
adventurers, their servants, and the seamen.
[Illustration: FIFTEENTH-CENTURY CARAVEL.
This is the same ship as in the preceding plate, but shows mizzen set.]
There was a never-failing fear of fire on these ships, and stringent
rules forbade lights after dark, except one for the helmsman and
one below deck when carefully protected by a lantern. Columbus’s
ship carried a lantern at the stern, mica being used at first and
subsequently glass. There was a strong religious atmosphere that must
not be lost sight of in considering the ship life as exhibited on board
Columbus’s fleet. Dominating the whole expedition was the intention to
glorify God, to spread His kingdom on earth. As you read through this
log you find the crew mustering to sing the “Salve” before the statue
of Our Lady--“Stella Maris.” On her festivals, and on such historic
occasions as when he made land, Columbus was wont to dress ship. So,
too, before the expedition left the mother-land for the Indies, every
man made his will and went to confession and communion, so that he
might come on board in a state of grace. And there were stringent rules
on board to prevent blasphemy, excessive gambling, or doing anything to
the dishonour of the king.
Equally illustrative of the ways and methods of the seamen at the end
of the fifteenth and the beginning of the sixteenth centuries are
Columbus’s letters dealing with his subsequent voyages. One of these
letters he concludes thus: “Done on board the caravel off the Canary
Islands,” and signs himself “The Admiral.” Some idea of the speed of
his ship during his second voyage to the West Indies may be seen from
the letter addressed to the Chapter of Seville by Dr. Chanca, physician
to the fleet, in which he states that in two days, with fair wind and
weather, they made fifty leagues. But the _Capitana_ was such a slow
sailer that many times the others had to shorten sail. On the first
voyage the _Nina_ similarly had to wait for the _Pinta_ to catch her
up, and this lack of homogeneity in the fleet certainly lost them much
time.
In order to ensure a careful look-out being kept, a handsome reward had
been promised to the first man sighting land. This was claimed “on the
first Sunday after All Saints, namely, the third of November, about
dawn,” when a pilot of the _Capitana_ cried out: “The reward! I see the
land.” Of all the ship’s company, Columbus himself excepted, the pilots
were the smartest and most skilful men, who “could navigate to or from
Spain” “by their knowledge of the stars.” We see Columbus on his third
voyage displaying all those characteristics of the cautious manner
which had distinguished him already. There was little enough that he
left to chance. When he was entering a strange haven, he used to send a
boat out ahead in order to take soundings. (His ship the _Santa Maria_
had a large boat about 30 feet long which was usually towed astern, and
a smaller boat about 10 feet long which was hoisted on deck.) “I passed
thirty-three days without natural rest,” he writes in connection with
his second voyage.
Speaking of his navigation during the third voyage, he tells us that
“at the end of these eight days it pleased our Lord to give me a
favourable east wind, and I steered to the west, but did not venture to
move lower down towards the south, because I discovered a very great
change in the sky and stars.... I resolved, therefore, to keep on the
direct westward course in a line from Sierra Leone, and not to change
it until I reached the point where I had thought I should find land.”
On the return journey he writes: “As to the Polar Star, I watched it
with great wonder, and devoted many nights to a careful examination of
it with the quadrant, and I always found that the lead and line fell
to the same point!” And as he sailed he wondered in his mind. Where
never a ship, never a man had voyaged before Columbus had gone. What,
after all, was the shape of this earth? “I have always read,” he says,
“that the world comprising the land and water was spherical, and the
recorded experiences of Ptolemy and all others have proved this by the
eclipses of the moon, and other observations made from east to west,
as well as by the elevation of the pole from north to south. But ...
I have come to another conclusion ... namely, that it is not round as
they describe, but of the form of a pear.”
[Illustration: THREE-MASTED FIFTEENTH-CENTURY CARAVEL.
Drawn from a woodcut after a delineation by Columbus in the Latin
translation of his letter dated March 1, 1493, to Don Raphael de Sanxis
(Treasurer of the King of Spain), in the Library at Milano.]
[Illustration: SIXTEENTH-CENTURY CARAVEL AT SEA.
After the woodcut of Hansen Burgmair, in the History of Emperor
Maximilian the First, compiled by Marx Freithsauerwein in the year
1514.]
For his fourth voyage he had most favourable weather. He got from
Cadiz to the Canaries in four days, and thence to the West Indies in
sixteen days. But then a great storm came down and lasted eighty-eight
days, during which “my ships lay exposed, with sails torn, and
anchors, rigging, cables, boats, and a great quantity of provisions
lost.” Finally, on January 24, his ship broke both her cables and
her bollards. “I departed in the name of the Holy Trinity, on Easter
night, with the ships rotten, worm-eaten, and full of holes” ... “and
in this condition I had to cross 7000 miles of sea.” “My ships were
pierced with worm-holes, like a bee-hive.” “With three pumps, and
the use of pots and kettles, we could scarcely with all hands clear
the water that came into the ship, there being no remedy but this
for the mischief done by the ship worm ... the other ship was half
under water.” But Columbus never lost heart, never failed to believe
in scientific navigation. Where had he got to; whither had his ship
attained? “I ascertained, however, by the compass and by observation,
that I moved parallel with the coast of terra firma.” “There is a mode
of reckoning,” he observes, “derived from astronomy which is sure and
safe, and a sufficient guide to anyone who understands it.”
And there are two very interesting comments which he makes as a seaman
rather than a navigator that ought certainly to be noticed. The first
occurs in his initial voyage across the Atlantic; the second in a
letter dealing with this last cruise. “Many times the caravel _Nina_
had to wait for the _Pinta_,” runs the narrative, “because _she sailed
badly when on a bowline_,[46] the mizzen being of little use owing to
the weakness of the mast.” ... “The India vessels do not sail except
with the wind abaft, but this is not because they are badly built or
clumsy, but because the strong currents in those parts, together with
the wind, render it impossible to sail with the bowline, for in one
day they would lose as much way as they might have made in seven; for
the same reason I could make no use of caravels, even though they were
Portuguese lateens.”
It will be remembered that the _Nina_ had started out originally as a
lateener, but this triangular-shaped sail was changed at Grand Canary
to a squaresail before crossing the Atlantic. To “sail on a bowline”
was to sail on a wind. In those days, when the cut of the squaresail
was very bad, bowlines were really necessary for stretching the sails
so that they set a flat surface without too much belly. The _Pinta_ was
apparently all right when running before the wind, but not much good
close-hauled, owing to the fact that the mizzen-mast could not endure
the strain. And similarly with reference to the second statement,
Columbus makes it perfectly clear that these vessels had to be sailed
“ramping full,” as we should say nowadays; it was useless to try to
“pinch” them.