smagellan smunday

(When Sunday is really Monday!)

All right. So lemme think a minute. Where were we last time? Ah, yes. The Vagina Lady, etc. Hm. I’m going to back up a bit, actually. I am so loving this book because I knew virtually nothing about Magellan beforehand and now, I just feel so so smart. And smug. Let’s not forget smug. Smuggysmugsmug.

All righty. Moving on.

Now, in Magellan’s day, any man who took to the seas was facing the most fearsome challenge a man could face. Imagine scaling Mt. Everest. Then imagine Everest taking years, being more uncertain, more deadly. Imagine scaling Everest believing the Abominable Snowman and other fantastical beasts lurked, waiting to kill you. Imagine those things — the years, the uncertainty, the death at the hands of fantastical beasts — and you’ve imagined, in a small way, the life of the sixteenth century sailor.

Knowledge of the world at large was woefully inadequate, mixing myth and superstition, both of which held great sway in the collective imagination. Everyone knew there were giant flame-faced creatures skulking the ocean depths. Everyone knew there were vast whirlpools sucking ships into watery voids. Everyone knew there were huge magnetic rocks pulling vessels into crashing doom. Mostly, though, everyone just knew that there was that point, that uncharted, terrifying point where the sea literally dropped off the face of the earth and that any cursed and hapless ship reaching that point would literally drop off the face of the earth, too.

So imagine being one of these sailors, believing these things, climbing aboard a ship bound for God-knows-where for God-knows-how-long and basically thinking, “Well, okie-dokie, I’m probably gonna die.” Not that all these men were necessarily heroes; no. Far from it, in some cases. Some were abandoning their families. Some were seeking spices and riches. Some were avoiding debtor’s prison. Some were fleeing jail, hanging, torture. Some were just escaping the humdrum of everyday life on dry land. Anything could happen at sea, grand or horrifying; why not take a chance, return home with a nest egg and stories to last a lifetime.

(Whatever, Popeyes! Why not??)

Now, remember when I mentioned that the crew members were planning to mutiny at the first opportunity? And remember when I said that they DID attempt one? Well, what happened next was more than a mere attempt.

It was now winter, brutal, storming. The armada was forced to take refuge in the remote harbor of Port Saint Julian. Magellan, anticipating a long stay, put the men on limited rations.

This did not go over well.

After about eight months at sea, they were seemingly no closer to this “strait” that Magellan was sure existed — this mysterious, elusive strait that Magellan believed would be a waterway to the Pacific, leading him to the exotic riches of the Spice Islands, which he hoped to claim for Spain.

But now, the crew no longer believed this strait existed. They believed Magellan was simply spurring them on to certain death. He blustered a big speech, reminding them of their duty to their royal commission. That they must follow where the journey led. That he was astonished to find “bold Spaniards so fainthearted.” The more they suffered, the greater the reward from the King, he said. What kind of sailors were they, after all?

This did not go over well.

Magellan, no dummy he, sensed the turmoil and decided he must learn one thing: Who was loyal and who was not? Feigning a certain bonhomie, he invited the captains of the four other ships to dine with him on the Trinidad. Only one of them, his cousin, showed up.

The others couldn’t show up because they were too busy plotting. Duh.

(Hey, Magellan! Are you gellin’??)

Later that night, mutineers from two of the ships, boarded San Antonio, found her captain (the cousin) and shackled him. The rest of the ship fell, too, after a skirmish and some bloodshed. One of the five ships, Santiago, like some seafaring Switzerland, remained neutral throughout. But as the sun rose on a new day, the mutineers now controlled 3 of the 5 ships.

They began making outrageous demands. Magellan steadfastly refused, determined to use a small bit of leverage that had fallen into his hands. Unbeknownst to the rebel leaders, Magellan and his crew had captured one of the mutineers’ longboats which was ferrying communiques between the rebel ships the night before. The forceful current had caused the longboat to drift within reach of the flagship and the wily Magellan had extended a glad hand, invited the rebels on board, and fed them a lavish meal. But now he had this boat, you see. So while the mutineers were complacent with their perceived success, Magellan was quietly and swiftly plotting to reclaim control of his fleet.

Pretty impressive, really, since he was outnumbered, outgunned, and basically, hated more than loved at this crucial moment.

Targeting just one ship, Victoria, where he hoped support for the rebels might be softer, Magellan decided to quell the rebellion piece by piece. He filled the captured longboat with five loyal men and instructed them to appear sympathetic to the mutineers. But underneath their loose clothes, the men hid weapons. They carried a letter from Magellan demanding an immediate and complete surrender. If the captain resisted, the men were to kill him.

When the men boarded the ship, the captain greeted the letter with a laugh and a sneer. They killed him.

Just moments after this first boat sailed away, Magellan had launched a second skiff, filled with 15 more loyal men with weapons. So just as the crew of Victoria stood mute and stunned by the death of their captain, they were overrun by this new, even larger group of Magellan loyalists. Overwhelmed, they surrendered. Magellan, in full view of the vanquished men, rewarded his confederates with several ducats each. His colors flew triumphantly from the mast of Victoria.

Magellan now controlled 3 of the fleet’s 5 ships and expected the two remaining rebel captains to realize the mutiny was ending, but the leader of the rebels, aboard the ship Concepcion, stubbornly refused to surrender. So under cover of dark, Magellan sent a single trusted sailor on a dangerous mission: Steal aboard Concepcion and sever the anchor cable.

(Heey, Popeye, how’s about rowing on over to the heart of darkness for me, ‘kay? That’d be great. Thaaaanks.)

Magellan had determined that the strong ebb tide in the harbor would cause Concepcion to drift towards Trinidad, the flagship, where he and his crew were armed and ready for confrontation. The night dragged, loyalists in tense readiness, Concepcion drifting ever closer. When she floated within range, Magellan gave the order to open fire and rush aboard as the crew of Victoria did the same on the rebel ship’s starboard side.

“Who are you for? Who are you for?” the thronging men bellowed.

“For the King! For Magellan!” the rebels cried.

They surrendered quickly and meekly. The mutiny was over.

The punishments were just beginning.

(Stay tuned …… torture and laughs in the next “Smagellan Smunday”!)