Aboard Cabrillo's Galleon

by Christine Echeverria Bender

  At the passage of midnight he returned to his cabin, fell into his bunk, and enjoyed the first sound sleep he’d known in a week.

  The morning of October 25 was still cloaked in the deep darkness that lingers before dawn when Cabrillo bolted upright in his bunk and shouted a gruff, inaudible word. Manuel and Mateo scrambled into the cabin but the captain-general jerked out his arm in a silent command to keep still. His ears strained. Nothing. Nothing at all. Then he knew it had been the silence that had awakened him.

  “Do you hear?” he asked, his eyes blinking the remaining lethargy away.

  Manuel suddenly beamed with relief, “The wind. She stopped, sir. She stopped at last.”

  Throwing off his cover and scrambling for his clothes while Manuel lit a lamp, Cabrillo dressed so quickly that Paulo got to the cabin in time to do nothing more than ask peevishly what was wanted for breakfast. He was further put out when Cabrillo joyfully exclaimed, “Breakfast! No breakfast until the ships are underway. Who knows how long we have before the wind returns? Dear God bless Father Ignacio de Loyola and our own Father Lezcano!”

  Whatever crewmembers still clung to their slumbers were immediately rousted and called to the capstans and lines. While the ships were being readied Cabrillo briefly considered going ashore to bid their host farewell, but in the end he sent Father Lezcano off in his stead with parting gifts and orders not to linger.

  The breaking light quickened the hands of the crews, many of them as happy as their commander to be setting their sails again. Cabrillo, pacing the stern deck, studied the sky with a building hope that fueled his impatience to be off. The priest’s boat rowed back to the flagship and was hurriedly secured as the bergantine began to maneuver into a position from which she could assist her flagship through the harbor’s maze of rocks and reefs.

  Father Lezcano had landed on deck wearing a broad smile, and he’d come directly to his captain-general. Although his expression made it evident that more could be shared, for now he said only, “They sent their farewells, sir.” Whatever else he might have wished to convey he saved for a time when Cabrillo’s attentions were not consumed by the need to safeguard his departing fleet. At times such as these, every one of his men knew enough to keep his silence and his distance unless life or limb was imminently imperiled.

  At last, after all three ships had sailed to a safe distance from the reefs, Cabrillo relaxed his stance and expression, and thereby eased the tenseness of his men. They all welcomed the feel of their ships’ keels slicing the sea beneath them and rejoiced at the now friendly breeze upon their faces. Arms reached energetically toward any task while backs welcomed the strain of muscle and sinew.

  By noon, however, the lighthearted moods of the men and officers began to fade away with the continued slackening of the gentle gusts. They slowed, and slowed even more, and eventually floated to a near halt that left the ships within tantalizing view but beyond reach of the mainland. Hour followed hour but no amount of praying, wishing, or cursing was able to coax the advance of more than a few fathoms at a time from the whiffs of wind.

  When Father Lezcano again made his way to the captain-general’s side, Cabrillo stared at the beckoning land and said regretfully, “We asked that the wind take us from the island, rather than asking to be delivered to our next port. Next time we had better take more care with our prayers, eh Father?”

  Chapter 18

  LAND OF LUHUI

  An hour before midnight the stillness was violently shattered by a squall so sudden and forceful that it threatened to drive the fleet onto the now looming shore. Cabrillo swiftly gauged their plight and swung the ships away, tacking farther out to sea where they could battle to round Cabo de Galera. As the wind whipped clothing against bodies with bruising strength and sails shrieked and masts groaned while straining to obey the commands of those at the lines, every man grittily bent to his work. Throughout the long night and into the next morning much was demanded in order to veer the ships back and forth at a safe distance from land, yet keep from surrendering precious miles. When even the laudable vigor of the crews began to ebb, finally, blessedly, a more cooperative breeze reached out from the south, huffing them around the cape and guiding them up an entirely new stretch of coastline.

  Now, heartened by a warming sun, the weary yet grateful men of Cabrillo’s fleet managed to sail on for twenty-five more miles. Their sustained ability to hug the shore lifted their spirits even higher and allowed them to admire the profuse flora and villages along the way. Manned canoes could be seen ashore, but none attempted to approach the ships. It may have been the anticipation of a new gale that kept the natives ashore, Cabrillo speculated, but whatever the reason he would not delay the voyage to meet with them. In the weeks to come he intended to take advantage of every favorable condition.

  The weather, however, again foiled his hopes by loosing a volley of ferocious and fickle crosswinds that held them deadlocked for five days. From where they lay captive Cabrillo could see sure signs of a river, and he longed to put ashore to search its boundaries. But this coastline was far too rocky to attempt an approach during such treacherous weather.

  Though on the first morning of November Father Lezcano reminded Cabrillo that it was All Saints’ Day, the captain-general saw no sign of heavenly benevolence in a dawning that brought a cold wind to bite at exposed skin and penetrate all but the heaviest clothing. He knew that their supply of firewood must be getting dangerously low, so he descended into the hold with his steward and took a cheerless inventory of the small pile left to them. His steward stared at the stack and shook his head as he stamped his chilled feet to encourage a warm flow of blood.

  “That is it, then,” said Cabrillo.

  “Yes, all of it, sir.”

  Closing his eyes for a moment, Cabrillo pictured his men working in the cold all day and night without so much as a warm bowl of soup to comfort them. Even if they were willing to forego the solace of the heat, little of their consumables, mostly beans, rice, and salted meat and fish, could be made edible without the ability to boil it. Their dried biscuit was growing so populated with weevils that the men had taken to calling it weescuit.

  As he climbed the steps out of the hold and those that led up to the main deck, he tried not to dwell on the quickening season and weather, or question for the hundredth time the location of the nearest Asian coast. Approaching Pilot San Remón, he buried his own disappointment as deeply as he could and said, “We are nearly out of firewood, pilot, and we dare not try to land here. We must ease the ships back and once again seek shelter behind Cabo de Galera.”

  Hard as it was to utter the words, the bitter wind made his commands easily acted upon and swiftly fulfilled. Within hours they had anchored near a large village that Father Gamboa named Galera Puerto de Todos Santos, and Cabrillo sent men ashore in search of wood and water. To his disheartened surprise the landing party returned empty handed, explaining that the villagers had little wood for their own use and could spare them none. The closest anchorage Cabrillo knew to have plenty of water and firewood was Pueblo de las Sardinas and, after a short conversation with his officers, he announced that they would set sails for that destination first thing in the morning.

  Upon their arrival at the pueblo Cabrillo and his men had every reason to feel grateful that they had treated the natives so honorably during their visit two and a half weeks earlier. People from the villages on both sides of the river welcomed their return by providing enough wood to warm their food and chilled extremities for some time to come and enough fresh water to fill many empty barrels. In light of their congenial reception, Cabrillo decided to remain here a day or two so that his men could make ship repairs as well as sew stout clothing to protect them against the cold weather ahead.

  Upon their arrival at the pueblo Cabrillo and his men had every reason to feel grateful that they had treated the natives so honorably during their visit two and a half weeks earlier. People from the villages on both sides of the river welcome
d their return by providing enough wood to warm their food and chilled extremities for some time to come and enough fresh water to fill many empty barrels. In light of their congenial reception, Cabrillo decided to remain here a day or two so that his men could make ship repairs as well as sew stout clothing to protect them against the cold weather ahead.

  The villagers were also covering their bodies more fittingly for the season, yet a number were willing to barter with some of their heavier furs and tanned leather. As Cabrillo strolled his deck during the first night watch at the pueblo, he smiled down at the large buff colored hides now covering several sleeping men. When the hour of midnight passed and he opened the door to his own cabin, he saw Paulo settling a beautiful blanket of sea otter fur atop his bunk.

  Heartily pleased, Cabrillo opened his mouth to question its origin and express his thanks but Paulo merely smiled and said as he left the chamber, “Enjoy a good night’s rest, sir.”

  Cabrillo undressed and slid into his bed with a moan of pleasure. Within moments he slipped into a sleep uncommonly free of hauntings.

  The next morning he awoke to a gentle knocking at his door. “Yes, enter,” he called, rising up on an elbow.

  Pilot San Remón appeared at the door looking distinctly uncomfortable. “Forgive me, sir, but a woman has come aboard and she is demanding to see you.”

  “A woman?” Cabrillo asked as he reluctantly left his furs and pulled on his breeches. “A woman has made you so uneasy?”

  “When you meet her, Captain-General, you will understand my, uh, my disquiet.”

  “Is she that beautiful?”

  His pilot’s expression revolted in protest. “Decidedly not, sir!”

  Curious now, Cabrillo waved his pilot out, saying, “I will be on deck in a moment. Try to entertain her until then.”

  San Remón let a muffled whimper escape before he bowed and departed.

  Emerging from his cabin and heading to the main deck, Cabrillo took one look at his latest guest and did indeed comprehend his pilot’s behavior. Here stood a woman who had seen the passing of so many years that Cabrillo dared not even guess their number. Though stooped with age, there was unmistakable pride in the carriage of her tiny frame. Cabrillo couldn’t help being appreciative that the nippy weather had enticed her to cover her body with furs that reached almost to her ankles, or for the expansive and intricate jewelry that hid most of her flagging chest. Her white hair was tied high atop her head and encircled by a masterful work of woven rushes and feathers that rose six inches above her forehead. Brawny guards hovered protectively behind and on both sides of her, further demonstrating her high status. She watched Cabrillo’s approach with eyes still bright with keenness.

  Noting that Father Lezcano already stood at her side, Cabrillo reached her and bowed deeply. “I welcome you to my ship.”

  She smiled with genuine warmth, revealing a gap where three top front teeth should have been. But Cabrillo was surprised to read a touch of mischief in the clever old face.

  One of her guards announced and signed with great deference, “This is Luhui. She is the wise leader of all the villages in this region.”

  Cabrillo bowed as he said aside to Manuel, “Bring the chair from my cabin, and have Paulo gather some fitting gifts.”

  To Luhui, he said, “We are happy that you have come. Your people have been good to us. We wish to repay their kindness.”

  The aged woman’s eyes shone with pleasure and in a wavering but authoritative voice, she said, “When you came before, I did not see you but I was told that you were generous with your gifts and that you shared many wonders with my people. All are glad you have returned. Now, I wish to learn about you and your ways.”

  The chair arrived and at Cabrillo’s invitation she accepted her place of honor. Once seated, her feet dangling two inches off the floor, she ran her withered hands over the smoothness of the carved arms as she marveled at the comfort of such a contrivance. Paulo appeared with a small chest of goods, and Cabrillo drew out a six-foot length of crimson satin.

  “Aaiio,” breathed Luhui, as Cabrillo laid the cloth across her lap. She lifted it, admiring the play of light across its dramatic hue and the feel of its silky surface. Next, after hesitating over its possible inappropriateness, he handed her a looking glass. When she caught the sight of her reflection, she started, held completely still for a moment, and then broke into an irresistible howl of laughter that carried not the slightest trace of vanity. Relieved and tickled by her reaction, Cabrillo lifted a lovely silver cup from the chest. Her eyes sparkled anew at its fascinating shape and delicately worked surface. She lowered her gifts to her lap and smiled upon Cabrillo as if he were a newly adopted son. “You are generous, Chief Cabrillo. You have already bestowed gifts to my chiefs and now you give these in exchange for wood and water.”

  “And kindness,” he said.

  If possible, the affection in her smile only deepened.

  Handing her new treasures to the guard who had introduced her, she proclaimed happily to Cabrillo. “We will stay with you.”

  Although uncertain as to the intended scope of this statement, Cabrillo said what any good host would have, “You are welcome.”

  Little did he suspect that eleven hours would pass and Luhui and her guards would still be aboard the San Salvador, giving no indication of an intention to leave. After the first hour or so Cabrillo had left them in Father Lezcano’s care, and they had proven to be amiable guests even while Luhui investigated every inch, tool, and sailor of the flagship. While overseeing the repair duties and keeping track of the progress of the clothing production, Cabrillo saw her frequently. Once he came across her patting the muscled bicep of a sailor who was trying to refit a pair of wheels to a cannon, and on another occasion he heard her praising a pair of soldiers who were polishing the ship’s musketry. She also seemed captivated by Father Lezcano’s instruction of the Christian faith and questioned him often about its origin and customs. The captain-general soon realized that, despite her willingness to answer every question posed to her, she was learning far more about them than the other way around.

  When the time to dine arrived, Cabrillo entertained Luhui in the best manner their circumstances allowed. Considering the minuteness of her physique as well as the greatness of her social stature, he gave her only a sip of sherry with their meal while making only a small portion available to himself and the others at the table. As the dishes were being cleared Cabrillo invited his guests back out to the main deck, fully believing that they would choose to return to their homes at last. Luhui, however, went directly to the spot where her chair had previously rested and raised a questioning face to her host. A quick glance toward Manuel brought the chair back, and Luhui wasted no time in occupying it.

  While her attention was momentarily captured by the old slave brand on Manuel’s arm, Cabrillo drew Father Lezcano a couple of steps away. “Now what the devil do we do?”

  Amused by his commander’s consternation, the priest said, “Music, perhaps?”

  “I do not appreciate your levity at the moment. How do we politely remove her from the ship?”

  “My dear Captain-General, one does not politely remove a queen from one’s ship if she does not wish to be removed.”

  Accepting the unwanted truth of these words, Cabrillo still cast his priest a scowl while surrendering with, “Very well, what music?”

  “We can call on Father Gamboa. He is a most obliging piper, and Manuel can bring out his tambourine.”

  Cabrillo glanced at Luhui, now smiling up into Manuel’s considerate face. “I will not let that woman take any closer notice of Manuel. She has been captivated by him all day, keeps eyeing him with that look of speculation. He may represent some kind of magic to her, and his banging on the tambourine could confirm it. Who knows what she may propose?”

  The manner in which these last words were said made Father Lezcano’s grin break free of its restraints. “Surely not that, sir. At her age?”

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bsp; “Who knows?” he repeated. “I would not have the heart to order him to... entertain her.”

  “Very well, sir. Mateo can play the tambourine fairly well. The boy should be safe from such royal attentions.”

  Choosing to ignore his friend’s impudence, Cabrillo said with a nod, “Please ask Master Uribe to have Father Gamboa brought over.” Still chuckling inwardly, Father Lezcano left his side with a bow.

  More surprised than anyone else, Cabrillo gradually found himself enjoying the evening. Captains Ferrelo and Correa accompanied Father Gamboa to the flagship to meet Luhui, and all three commanders displayed their best manners in her presence. Captain Ferrelo’s natural grace and charm especially seemed to impress her, and she asked him to remain at her side, thereby relieving Manuel for a time. Without betraying the slightest trace of chagrin at being singled out by so ancient an admirer, Captain Ferrelo genially complied with her wishes.

  Father Gamboa and Mateo soon settled into their positions and began to play a lively tune. With the first notes Luhui let out a mesmerized exclamation and the feet of the sailors began to tap the decking. At an acquiescing nod from Cabrillo, Master Uribe cried, “Dance before the mast if you wish, men.”

  Keeping a respectful distance between Luhui and the officers and themselves, several sailors immediately stepped forward to take advantage of this rare boon. They began with a few subtle movements to find the rhythm of the music, but things quickly evolved into a competition of sorts between several dancers, some performing steps known since childhood and others creating spins, capers, and leaps on the spot. To complement the soaring moods of the guests and dancers, Father Gamboa smoothly swung into an even faster second melody that was familiar to most. At this livelier pace more bodies began to turn and bounce, more hands to clap, and voices to sing. Out of exhilaration one of the sailors let out a high, piercing battle cry, and Luhui pulled in a breath and mimicked it beautifully, extracting an appreciative grin from the captain-general.