God is merciful! With a favorable wind we left the port of Guador and
again steered for Yemen. We had been at sea for several days, and had
arrived nearly opposite to Zofar[79] and Shar, when suddenly from the
west arose a great storm known as _fil Tofani_.[80] We were driven
back, but were unable to set the sails, not even the _trinquetla_
(stormsail). The tempest raged with increasing fury. As compared to
these awful tempests the foul weather in the western seas is mere
child's play, and their towering billows are as drops of water compared
to those of the Indian sea. Night and day were both alike, and because
of the frailty of our craft all ballast had to be thrown overboard.
In this frightful predicament our only consolation was our unwavering
trust in the power of the Almighty. For ten days the storm raged
continuously and the rain came down in torrents. We never once saw the
blue sky.
I did all I could to encourage and cheer my companions, and advised
them above all things to be brave, and never to doubt but that all
would end well. A welcome diversion occurred in the appearance of a
fish about the size of two galley lengths, or more perhaps, which the
pilot declared to be a good omen.
The tide being very strong here and the ebb slow, we had an opportunity
of seeing many sea-monsters in the neighborhood of the bay of Djugd,
sea-horses, large sea-serpents, turtles in great quantities, and eels.
The color of the water suddenly changed to pure white, and at sight
of it the pilot broke forth into loud lamentations; he declared we
were approaching whirlpools and eddies. These are no myth here; it is
generally believed that they are only found on the coasts of Abyssinia
and in the neighborhood of Sind in the bay of Djugd, and hardly ever a
ship has been known to escape their fury. So, at least, we are told in
nautical books. We took frequent soundings, and when we struck a depth
of five Kuladj (arm-lengths) the mizzensails (_Orta Yelken_) were set,
the bowspreat[81] ... and ... heeling over to the left side, and flying
the commander's flag, we drifted about all night and all day until at
last, in God's mercy, the water rose, the storm somewhat abated, and
the ship veered right round.
The next morning we slackened speed and drew in the sails. A stalwart
cabin boy (or sailor) was tied to the _Djondu_, whereby the post at the
foot of the mizzenmast was weighted down, and the sailrope slightly
raised. Taking a survey of our surroundings we caught sight of an
idol-temple on the coast of Djamber. The sails were drawn in a little
more; we passed Formyan and Menglir,[82] and directing our course
toward Somenat,[83] we passed by that place also. Finally we came to
Div,[84] but for fear of the unbelievers which dwell there we further
drew in our sails and continued on our course with _serderma_.
Meanwhile, the wind had risen again, and as the men had no control over
the rudder, large handles had to be affixed with long double ropes
fastened to them. Each rope was taken hold of by four men, and so with
great exertion they managed to control the rudder.
No one could keep on his feet on deck, so of course it was impossible
to walk across. The noise of the ... and the ... was deafening; we
could not hear our own voices. The only means of communication with the
sailors was by inarticulate words, and neither captain nor boatswain
could for a single instant leave his post. The ammunition was secured
in the storeroom, and after cutting the ... from the ... we continued
our way.
It was truly a terrible day, but at last we reached Gujarat in India,
which part of it, however, we knew not, when the pilot suddenly
exclaimed: "On your guard! a whirlpool in front!" Quickly the anchors
were lowered, but the ship was dragged down with great force and
nearly submerged. The rowers had left their seats, the panic-stricken
crew threw off their clothes, and, clinging some to casks and some to
jacks, had taken leave of one another. I also stripped entirely, gave
my slaves their liberty, and vowed to give 100 florins to the poor of
Mecca.
Presently one of the anchors broke from its crook and another at the
_podjuz_; two more were lost, the ship gave a terrible jerk—and in
another instant we were clear of the breakers. The pilot declared
that had we been wrecked off Fisht-Kidsur, a place between Diu and
Daman;[85] nothing could have saved us. Once more the sails were set,
and we decided to make for the infidel coast; but after duly taking
note of tide and current, and having made a careful study of the
chart, I came to the conclusion that we could not be very far off
the mainland. I consulted the horoscope in the Koran, and this also
counseled patience. So we commenced to examine the hold of the ship and
found that the storeroom was submerged, in some places up to the walls,
in some places higher still. We had shipped much water, and all hands
set to work at once to bale it out. In one or two places the bottom had
to be ripped up to find the outlet so as to reduce the water.
Toward afternoon the weather had cleared a little, and we found
ourselves about two miles off the port of Daman, in Gujarat in India.
The other ships had already arrived, but some of the galleys were
waterlogged not far from the shore, and they had thrown overboard oars,
boats, and casks, all of which wreckage eventually was borne ashore by
the rapidly rising tide. We were obliged to lie to for another five
days and five nights, exposed to a strong spring-tide, accompanied by
floods of rain; for we were now in the Badzad,[86] or rainy season of
India, and there was nothing for it but to submit to our fate. During
all this time we never once saw the sun by day, nor the stars by night;
we could neither use our clock nor our compass, and all on board
anticipated the worst. It seems a miracle that of the three ships lying
there, thrown on their sides, the whole crew eventually got safely to
land.