September 26, 1521
After five months of silence, I am finally able to take up my pen again. Captain Carvalho has been deposed. Gomes de Espinosa now commands the fleet and del Cano is the Captain of the Victoria. Much has occurred to lead us to this.
After the Trinidad and Victoria left the remains of the Concepcion, we sailed to the southwest making slow progress through the islands and reefs of the archipelago. While on the island of Cebu, we had not concerned ourselves with the state of our stores or gathered fresh supplies. And so we found ourselves hungry and lost on an ocean we didn't know, wandering aimlessly.
We soon sighted snow capped mountains and sailed into a small bay. The natives were friendly and their rajah, whose name was Calanao, pledged everlasting friendship with us. He readily agreed to trade for supplies and a longboat was sent to bring them back to the ships. As usual, Antonio went along to see the sights of the island. But the food we received was all perishable and we soon needed more. Calanao informed us that we were not far from a place called Brunei. According to the Rajah, this was a major port for the trade routes from Cathay to the Spice Islands and was rich with gold and spices.
Our new Admiral Carvalho was interested in this port and asked the Rajah for directions. He hoped we would find native pilots to help guide us to our true destination. Our own few remaining seaman who knew something of navigation, myself and Carvalho included, could not find the way as none of us knew this sea and we had no charts. Magellan or San Martín would have known the way, but their knowledge was lost at Cebu.
We set course west-southwest and it wasn't long before we sighted another island. To our dismay, its natives were anything but friendly and we were forced to sail on, desperately needing more supplies. Changing course to the northwest, we sighted another island and followed its coastline to the northeast. The skiffs were out inspecting the waters ahead lest we run aground in the unfamiliar shoals. We came to a place where the shore was crowded with people and the boat crews pulled up quickly, fearing another hostile reception while aboard the Trinidad a debate was taking place.
"Can we risk sending a shore party to the beach?" Carvalho asked. "We can't continue much farther without fresh provisions."
Juan de Campos, formerly the steward of the Concepcion stepped forward. "I'll go, Captain. We must acquire fresh stores and if these people do prove hostile, my death would be of little consequence to the fleet. God would take pity on my soul." Carvalho nodded and shortly thereafter, Campos rowed alone to the shore. He somehow managed to convey that we wished to buy food and the next morning, they brought us a large supply of rice. They told us that a short distance to the north, there was a port where we could obtain more stores.
After a short voyage, we anchored in the port's harbor where we were well received by its rajah. Carvalho managed to make a peace treaty with him and also purchased goats, pigs and more rice. To our surprise while we loaded these supplies onto the ships, a black man appeared and greeted us in faltering Portuguese. His name was Bastiam and he was a Christian who claimed to know the route to Brunei. He agreed to lead us there, but failed to appear when we were ready to depart on June 21.
"What shall we do now, Captain?"
Carvalho looked out over the harbor toward a junk that was just entering the port. He smiled slightly. "We must have someone to guide us and that ship's navigator must know the way through this maze of islands."
It was as he ordered. We easily overpowered the junk and kidnapped three of its Muslim sailors, two of whom were pilots. Following their directions, we retraced our route southward along the island's coast and continued on to the west.
In a little over a fortnight, we sighted the entrance to Brunei Bay. The next morning we anchored in the busy port and a fleet of canoes came to greet us. Brunei was indeed a large and prosperous port city, built on pilings, whose waters were busy with ships. This was no country of savages, but rather a civilized kingdom.
Carvalho wisely released our captive Moorish seamen and sent them ashore with a message of greetings. The following day, we were welcomed to Brunei by eight emissaries from the island's Sultan, who sent gifts of food and fine wine. Six days later they returned aboard their decorated praus with musicians playing drums and gongs. We were presented with more gifts as well as a permit to take on supplies and to trade. Apparently, the Sultan believed we might be scouts for the Portuguese and was anxious to know our origins and intentions. Word of the sac of Malacca had reached even these seas. Carvalho called a council and it was decided that representatives must be sent to allay the Sultan's fears and assure him that we desired only peace.
"It might be best, Captain, if someone else was to lead the envoy," Antonio suggested. "They will not believe that we are not Portuguese if a Portuguese is leading us."
Carvalho nodded. "Then Espinosa will be in command. You, Pigafetta, will go as well. Espinosa can choose the rest of the away party. Take some of our best trade goods and trinkets as gifts for the Sultan and his Queen."
So Espinosa, Antonio, myself and four others were selected to bring Emperor Charles's greetings to the Sultan. I left the niño, not without a great deal of hesitation, with the Captain. Seeing my mistrust, Carvalho laughed slightly and said, "I have managed to care for my own son all these months, Mendoza. No harm will come to the niño." Despite his reassurances, I left reluctantly.
When the gifts were loaded, our party entered the natives' praus. We glided on the water until we reached the docks of the city. To our amazement, an escort met us with two huge elephants draped with silk. We were hoisted onto the backs of the great beasts and rode to a dignitary's house in grand fashion. We were treated to a fine banquet and spent that night in comfort on cotton mattresses lined with taffeta and sheets of soft cloth.
At noon on the following day, we again climbed onto the elephants' backs and rode to the Sultan's palace. The streets we traveled were lined with guards armed with swords, spears and shields. The palace itself was enclosed by a high wall lined with towers armed with bronze and iron cannons. Like most of the city, the palace had been built on poles and we had to climb a ladder to enter.
The main hall was filled with native noblemen wearing silk, gold and jewels. We were seated on a carpet next to porcelain jars that had been used to carry our gifts. At the end of the hall was a small raised room draped with silk and curtained. One curtain was drawn aside and we could see the Sultan, called Siripada, with one of his young sons. The Sultan was chewing on some kind of nut1 and behind him were a number of women servants, the daughters of the noblemen.
The chief of protocol explained that we must not address the Sultan directly. "If you require anything, tell it to me and I will communicate it to a person of higher rank." This message would then be passed to the king's official by means of a hole in the chamber wall.
But before we were allowed to do even this, we first had to perform a ritual required by court protocol. Facing the Sultan, we were to clasp our hands above our heads, raise first one foot and then the other, then blow kisses toward the Sultan. Antonio, being used to the customs of the Vatican and other court rituals, had no trouble performing the required tasks. The rest of us however, found it more...difficult. It still brings a smile to my face to remember crusty, tough Gomez de Espinosa, former Captain of the Guard and now a Captain of the fleet, muttering under his breath, his face quite red, performing the maneuvers. I think however that the elephant rides made up for this humiliation.
This done, our gifts were presented one by one to the Sultan, who acknowledged them with the slightest nod. We, in return, were each given a bolt of brocaded silk decorated with designs created with gold thread. Many a Spanish lady would have paid a great deal to have such finery. We were served refreshments spiced with cloves and cinnamon. Then the audience was over and the curtain was closed once again.
We rode back to the governor's house once again on the elephants, seven porters carrying our presents. We were greeted by more porters carrying trays for a thirty-two-course feast, which we ate with gold spoons while we drank rice wine from porcelain cups. That night we again slept in luxury and returned to the waterfront the following day aboard the elephants.
We were free to roam Brunei's streets, trading for the goods and provisions we so badly needed. Two of our Greek sailors enjoyed the port so much they deserted and became Moors. But the expedition has never been blessed with good fortune for long and peace has always been quickly followed by tragedy. Our luck had not changed.
Three weeks after our audience with the Sultan, the watch called Carvalho to the deck in dismay. Three armored junks had entered the harbor and anchored near our ships, blocking our exit.
"Be on guard," Captain Carvalho ordered. "This may be an attempt to take our ships and trade goods. Are any of our men still ashore?" he asked.
"Aye, Captain," was the reply. "Barruiti, Hernández, and your son, Joãozito, have not returned from buying the beeswax we need for caulking.
Time passed and the missing crewmen did not return and Carvalho's nervousness grew with each passing hour. Then, on the morning of July 29, a fleet of some two hundred pirogues left the port and seemed to be heading in our direction.
"Raise the anchors!" Carvalho ordered. "We'll have to fight our way clear!'
"But captain..."
"You all have your orders," Carvalho said, his face a mask. And they were carried out.
Ready to sail into open water, the gunners fired on the junks blocking our exit. The effect of the native ships was devastating. Many of their crew was killed and two of the junks actually ran aground trying to escape our fire. At Carvalho's order, the remaining junk was captured and taken in tow. But that night a squall sank the ship and our illustrious Captain had us return to the two other grounded junks. The crew of one of the vessels was easily overpowered and her passengers were taken captive.
It was soon discovered that we held a young prince, the son of a local rajah, who was serving as naval commander for the Sultan of Brunei. In addition to the prince, we also took ninety men and five noblewomen, one of whom had a very young child. Sixteen were held hostage, including the prince and three of the women who were exceptionally beautiful.
"We will take these lovely creatures with us on our return journey to Spain and will present them to the Queen," the admiral declared. But no one believed that this was his true motivation for as he spoke the words, lust was in his eyes. He took the three beautiful women to his cabin and they become his personal harem. Carvalho was showing his true character. Not long after, he released the prince, the only other hostage of any value, for a large sum of gold that he kept for himself.
To top it all, we received a message from the Sultan, which stated that the junks were not sent to attack us, but were returning from a campaign against a local rajah who switched his allegiance from Brunei to their enemies.2 A message was sent asking the Sultan to allow our men and Joãozito to return to us. Four days passed with no reply or sign of our comrades. We raised anchor and sailed away leaving our shipmates and the boy to an unknown fate.
We left Brunei Bay and sailed northeast along the coast, searching for a safe place to lie up and repair our leaky vessel, but without the aid of a local navigator, the islands were a maze of dangerous islets and reefs. The Trinidad and the Victoria were each grounded once in the treacherous waters but with luck, we were able to get them off again.
Carvalho was an unashamed pirate and seized any prize he could lay his hands on. Sighting four praus, the Admiral ordered us to give chase and we managed to capture one that was filled with coconuts.
On August 15, we finally found a small island with a protected anchorage and a beach where we could careen the ships and carry out the repairs. The island was given the name Nuestra Señora de Agosto and lay at 7ºN latitude.3 We have spent the last month making our vessels sea worthy again or at least as much as was possible.
Antonio kept himself amused by observing the local wildlife and he has certainly found at least one curiosity. He came back to the ships one day with a strange tale of leaves that walked and was anxious to show his strange find. Taking advantage of this distraction, I decided to take the niño for a walk and see Antonio's discovery.
Our progress was slow (the boy is still a little unsteady on his feet when on land), but pleasant as we made our way to the trees in question. Exactly as my friend had said, when the branches were shaken, leaves would fall and immediately began to scurry about. The niño was delighted and tottered after the fleeing flora. I bent down to examine these curious things more closely. "Are they animals or plants?" I wondered aloud as the leaf I had been studying fled from my touch. As I spoke, the niño, who had been tormenting the creeping foliage, suddenly lost his balance and sat down right on top of one.
Picking up the boy, we surveyed the damage. "Hmmm...they don't seem to have any blood," Antonio noted, looking at the sorry remains of the leaf-creature.
"What strange things we have found on this voyage. Flying fish, giant clams and now walking foliage!"4
Antonio carefully scooped up one of the critters in a box he had brought with him. "We'll take this one back to the ship for further study," and with that, we made our way back to the beach.
Several days later, Captain Carvalho awoke to find himself deposed. Juan Bautista Polcevera and Juan Sebastión del Cano had, with Espinosa's approval, been gathering the support of the crew and had finally presented Carvalho with their charges. He was found to have behaved immorally (the three women), a poor leader who put his own interests above that of the crew (the prince's ransom) and an inferior navigator (that should have been obvious back in Verzin5). To put it bluntly, the crew was disgusted with our Portuguese commander. At least Carvalho was wise enough not to contest the motion.
Espinosa in now the Captain of the Trinidad and del Cano commands the Victoria while Polcevera is the Admiral of the fleet. We have repaired the ships as best we can and tomorrow we will set out again in search of the Spice Islands. Will we ever find them?
1 A betel nut
2 The people of Java
3 Jambongon
4 The leaf-critters are actually camouflaged bugs. In the 1500s they didn't know such things could exist, but Pigafetta described them in detail in his journal.
5 Another old name for Brazil.