by Phil Masters
And so, Sinbad the Porter returned to his home that night with his accustomed gift, wondering what he would hear of his new friend’s sixth adventure.
The Sixth Voyage: The River of Gems
The next day, Sinbad the Porter returned to the fine mansion, exchanged greetings, ate and drank with the other guests as before, and listened.
I had settled down in peace after my fifth voyage, said Sinbad the Sailor, and I thought that I might now remain in Baghdad. But one day, a party of merchant venturers came to visit me, and again I remembered the fascination of travel. Even with all that I had suffered, I could think of no greater joy than returning to my home and seeing my friends again after long parting.
Shipwreck is a hazard frequently faced by Sinbad and those with whom he travels – as illustrated here. (North Wind Picture Archives)
Sinbad improvises a raft for travel on an underground river during his sixth voyage. This depiction shows an impressively substantial construction. (Mary Evans Picture Library)
And so, yet again, I acquired a stock-in-trade, and travelled down to Basrah. There, I took passage with a sizeable company of prosperous merchants, and we voyaged and traded successfully for some time.
But one day, as we were sailing upon seas whipped up by a stiff breeze, the captain, who had been taking sightings, set up an unhappy wailing. We merchants looked to see him rending his garments, plucking at his beard, beating his brow, and then throwing himself down on the deck.
‘What is the matter?’ we asked.
‘We are lost!’ the captain cried. ‘The wind has carried us into a sea wherein I know not the routes or currents, and even now it drives us to our doom!’
And indeed, when we looked through the sea-spray, we saw that we were being carried towards a great island which, in the nearest part, rose steeply from the water like a mountain. The captain called commands to his crew, clambered up the mast himself, and attempted to lower the sail. But the wind was too strong, and snatched the rigging from his hands. A great gust threw the ship about, smashing the rudder as the crew struggled with it. All control lost, we cried out farewells to each other as we were hurled directly into the island.
In a moment, the ship was reduced to driftwood. Many of my companions were drowned, but some of us managed to swim ashore and drag ourselves clear of the waves. We looked and saw that ours was not the first ship to be wrecked here; the remains of many other vessels and their cargoes were scattered all about us.
Some of my companions wandered dazed through this wreckage, but I kept my wits enough to climb a promontory and look around. This stretch of shore was cut off from the rest of the island by high mountains, and seemed largely barren. There were a few streams, the greatest of which poured out of a gorge in the rocks and into a sink-hole nearby, and little vegetation save for a few trees. Some of them were the sorts that provide agarwood, but none gave edible fruit. I also found to my amazement a spring that produced ambergris instead of water. This was liquid enough in the heat of the day that it flowed down to the sea, and in the next few days I saw great sea-monsters, attracted by its scent, swim up to the coast and devour it. I am told that it is transformed in their bellies, and that they eventually vomit it up, and it then congeals on the surface of the water into the form that perfume-makers know. In that place, though, when the pure stuff melted in the daytime sun, the air was filled with its musky scent. When I came to the largest stream, I discovered the greatest wealth of all, for its bed and banks were studded with precious stones – rubies and emeralds, and sapphires, in such profusion that the very ground glittered in the sun!
So we who had survived the wreck were stranded among a fortune, and yet we were doomed to die by starvation. We gathered up what food we had and rationed it out carefully, a bare mouthful a day, and so we soon grew very hungry. No ships passed, and one by one my companions succumbed to starvation, exposure, or sickness caused by their sufferings. As they died, we did what we could to give them proper funerals, washing their bodies, wrapping them in winding-sheets made of fabrics recovered from the wrecks, and digging them graves where the ground allowed. At length, I alone was left, after burying my last companion.
THE ORIGINS OF AMBERGRIS
Of all the treasures that Sinbad acquires and trades, ambergris may seem the strangest. In reality, its origin isn’t quite as described in his tale. It is a waxy solid that is used in perfume-making as a ‘fixative’, enabling scents to last longer; it is very valuable, although in modern times it has mostly been replaced by synthetic fixatives.
It is in fact produced naturally in the intestines of sperm whales, possibly to ease the passage of sharp or hard objects that the whale has swallowed. It is then usually excreted with faeces, but may sometimes be vomited up. ‘Fresh’ ambergris thus smells unpleasant, but as it floats on the sea, it hardens and develops its distinctive musky smell. Lumps are collected for sale when they wash up on beaches.
When that was done, I cursed my folly for having yet again risked my life on the ocean when I could have stayed at home in comfort. Now I would die, without even a friend to wash my body and give me decent burial. I dug a grave by the shore, and decided that when I felt death approaching, I would lie in that, and hope that, in time, at least the wind would cover me decently.
But then I found myself contemplating the stream which poured into that cavernous sink-hole at the base of the mountain. ‘By Allah,’ I thought, ‘that must go somewhere, and it cannot be anywhere worse than this. It might even carry me to safety. At worst, I will perish, but that is no worse than what will happen to me here.’
And so I gathered up the stoutest branches I could find from the agarwood trees, and lashed them together to form a raft, which I carefully made a little narrower than the mouth of the cave. Then I took planks from some of the wrecks, and lashed them atop the branches to form a deck. Finally, I fixed stout, flat planks on either side of the raft to act as steering oars.
Then, not knowing what I might need if I survived, I found some sacks and gathered up precious stones, ambergris, and what little food I had left, loaded it onto my raft, then pushed it onto the stream and clambered aboard as the current took it. Hunching down low, I rode the stream to the mouth of the cavern, and hurtled into darkness.
The stream carried me deep under the mountain, and soon the raft was bumping against the walls of the cave, first on one side and then on the other, while I had to lie flat to pass under the ceiling. I realized that if the cave grew much narrower the raft would be able to go no further, and I knew that I could not go back, and so I wondered if I had condemned myself to die in darkness. But my luck held, and the cave never quite became too narrow.
I know not how long I rode, flat on my face, jolting and bumping through darkness. At length, exhaustion overcame my terror, and I fell asleep, or perhaps just unconscious.
When I awoke, I was stunned to find myself not only in daylight, but surrounded by people. The raft had drifted to a river bank, and these folk had caught it and tied it fast, and were now gathered around me. At first I thought that this must be a dream, and I did not know what to say, and they knew not what to make of me.
They had dark skins, like Indians or Ethiopians, and they were talking in a language which I did not recognize. After a while, though, one of them – perhaps a religious scholar or one who had dealt with merchants – spoke to me in Arabic.
Sinbad has been shipwrecked yet again on a seemingly deserted island, and everyone who was with him has died of starvation or disease. However, he has found a stream which flows into a crevice in the rocky mountainside. Deciding to take his chances by building a rough wooden raft from local aloes wood and planks and ropes salvaged from wrecked ships, Sinbad rides this into the caves. He is, after all, once again starving and desperate.
Ironically, Sinbad has more material wealth than ever with him here. The bed of the stream is lined with countless naturally-occurring precious stones, and Sinbad has gathered up some of these, along wit
h goods salvaged from wrecked ships, in case he needs them if and when he survives his journey through darkness. One of his bags has already come open, showing the contents, but the rest will survive.
Sinbad (John Phillip Law) fighting a stop-motion centaur-monster in The Golden Voyage of Sinbad (1973). (© United Archives GmbH / Alamy)
‘Peace be upon you, friend,’ he said. ‘How came you here? We never see boats on this stream!’
‘I will tell you,’ I said, ‘but for the love of Allah, I beg you to give me some food, for I am starving.’
At that, the man sent for food, and soon I was restored enough to tell my tale, as he translated to the others, who he told me were peasants who farmed the land around the stream. When I was done, they spoke among themselves, and then the Arabic speaker turned back to me. ‘This is a strange and marvellous story,’ he said. ‘Let us take you to our king. He will want to know of you.’
And so, they led me to their city, carrying my raft and all that had been upon it behind me. Their king greeted me courteously, listened to my story, and congratulated me on my escape from death. Then I laid before him gemstones and agarwood and ambergris, and he offered me lodging in his palace while I recovered my strength.
I found that this was the great and wealthy island of Serendib, and the people of its capital treated me with courtesy. In return, I told them of my travels, and of my homeland. The king was especially interested to learn of the Caliph Haroun al-Rashid, and of the caliph’s piety and justice.
‘He is indeed an admirable ruler,’ the king said when I was finished. ‘I think that I should send him a gift, as a sign of friendship, one ruler to another. I would ask you to bear it to him.’
‘To hear is to obey,’ I said. But I had no way to return to Baghdad at that time. A little later, however, I heard that some local people were preparing an ocean-going ship for a trading venture, and so I arranged to take passage with them.
The king sent the caliph a cup carved from a single ruby and embellished with pearls, a magical bed covered with the skin of a giant serpent, which protects anyone who sleeps on it from all diseases, and a beautiful slave-girl, along with a great load of agarwood. He also gave me rich gifts.
The ship carried me westwards until at length we reached Basrah, where I disembarked and took passage up river. When I reached Baghdad, I went at once to the palace, and presented the gifts there, and then returned to my own home. Soon, however, a messenger came, requiring that I attend upon the caliph. Haroun asked me about the gifts which I had delivered, and I told him my story. He was impressed, and ordered that this all be written upon a parchment in letters of gold, and placed in the archives.
And so I returned once more to my life of comfort. But that was not my final voyage. I will tell of that tomorrow.
Sinbad the Sailor finished. And then, he gave Sinbad the Porter his customary gift of gold, and the Porter returned to his own home.
The Seventh Voyage: The Land of Winged Men
And so there came the day when Sinbad the Porter went to the house of Sinbad the Sailor to hear of the last voyage. After they had greeted each other and the audience had arrived, Sinbad the Sailor spoke.
I had thought that facing death upon a barren shore, and only escaping doom by plunging into the bowels of the earth, had cured me of wanderlust. But after some time at home, the urge to travel came upon me again. And so, as before, I travelled down to Basrah with trade-goods and took ship.
My new companions were good company, and we sailed across the great ocean, buying and selling profitably until we reached the distant City of China. Then we set sail for home once more. But out on the open sea, a headwind blew up, and rapidly turned into a gale, driving us back along our path. As we struggled to protect our cargo from driving rain, the captain tucked his clothes into his belt and scrambled up the mast, looking around for land. Soon, though, he began to wail and pluck at his beard.
‘What is the matter?’ we asked.
‘Pray for salvation!’ he replied. ‘This accursed wind has driven us into the furthest ocean of the world!’
Then he descended, and opened a chest which he kept on deck. He extracted books and charts, and bags of magical powders which enabled him to determine the ship’s position when all else failed. But when he had performed these procedures, he became more mournful still.
The Winged Men in their non-human form as depicted by aR-Mor
‘We have been driven toward the shores of the Land of Kings,’ he explained. ‘Here lies the tomb of the great King Solomon himself! But no mortal man may venture here and hope to live. The sea is full of gigantic serpents, and monstrous whales large enough to swallow ships whole!’
No sooner had he said this than the ship was lifted by a huge wave, and when it crashed down, we saw a whale, every bit as terrible as the captain had said, swimming towards us. Then, a moment later, a second, even larger whale appeared and swam towards the first. And just as we were saying our sad farewells to each other, a third whale, even larger than the first two, broke the surface nearby.
The three monsters began swimming around our ship, stirring up the waters as they decided whether to attack us or each other first. In that moment, my urge to live overcame my terror, and I rushed to the side of the ship, casting off all my clothes except my under-shirt so that they would not weigh me down in the water. At that very moment, the third whale lunged at the ship, its jaws open wide, while a great gust of wind slammed into the vessel, so that it shattered as the monster bit at it. I leapt into the sea as everyone else was cast aside or swallowed.
Sinbad’s adventures as an ivory-hunter, in the alternative account of his seventh voyage, are depicted here by Gustave Doré.
And then, the three monsters turned away, and suddenly I was alone on the stormy waters amidst a few planks. I grasped at one and held onto it with all my strength.
As I floated on the ocean, I cursed myself for a fool. ‘My sufferings are sent by Allah to punish my greed,’ I thought. ‘I have plentiful wealth, and no need to risk my life for more!’
And so I made a solemn vow to Allah that, if somehow I survived, I would sail the seas no more. And then, after two days and nights, I was at last cast up on an island. I saw no inhabitants, but there were fruit trees and fresh springs, so I was able to restore myself, and soon I found a stream flowing rapidly across the landscape.
Remembering my previous adventure, I decided to make another raft. I lashed together branches from the unfamiliar trees with cords made from creepers. Then, with a prayer, I loaded the raft with fruit, launched it on the stream, and scrambled aboard.
For three days and nights, the stream carried me across the island, before I saw ahead a cave-mouth at the base of a great mountain. Remembering the terrors of the underground river on Serendib, I tried to steer for the banks, but the stream swept me into the darkness. I was sure that I was going to die, but after a short time I emerged once more into daylight.
Now, the stream ran down a deep valley, and the waters became ever more turbulent. Just as I thought that I was sure to drown in the rapids, I came to a city. People on the banks saw me and threw nets and ropes out to me. I grasped these, and they pulled me to safety.
I staggered off the raft, delirious with fear and lack of sleep, and people crowded around me, babbling questions which I could not answer. A venerable old man approached me, and wrapped me in fine clothes. He escorted me to the public baths, then took me home and gave me food. I spent the next three days in his house, being tended by his servants, while I recovered myself enough to tell him my history. He proved kind, and a good Muslim, though many of the customs of that land seemed strange to me.
On that fourth day, he came to me and asked, ‘Would you like to come with me down to the riverbank, and sell your goods? That should earn you enough to start trading.’
I was struck dumb, not knowing what he was talking about, but he smiled at my silence, and said, ‘Have no fear, my son, for I will ensure that you get
a fair price. If no one makes an offer that you like, you can store your goods in my warehouse for a while.’
I decided that I had best go with him, to find out what he meant. We walked down to the river, where I found a small crowd gathered round an auctioneer and something on the ground. To my astonishment, I saw that it was my raft.
The auctioneer saw my host, and spoke to the crowd. ‘What am I bid for this load of finest sandalwood?’ he asked. The bidding started at 100 dinars, and rapidly rose to 1,000.
Then my host turned to me. ‘Is that sufficient for you, or should I store the sandalwood?’ he asked. ‘You know better than I what is fair,’ I replied.
My host turned to the auctioneer. ‘One thousand and one hundred dinars,’ he called. That was the highest bid, and so my host summoned his servants to carry the sandalwood to his warehouse. Then he took me home and gave me the money.
I stayed with him a while longer as I learned the ways of trade in the city. I discovered that he was one of its leading merchants, and he treated me with great affection. Then one day he came to me. ‘I have a proposal for you,’ he said.
Sinbad has discovered that, for one day each year, the men of the city where he is living change shape and appearance, grow wings, and spend the day flying high in the sky. At his own request, he is being carried up towards Heaven by one of these winged men. This illustration shows the moment when an awestruck Sinbad, hearing the angels singing the praises of Allah, cries out in praise himself. Unfortunately, this attracts the attention of heaven, which isn’t always a good thing.
The city is somewhere far to the east of Sinbad’s homeland, and so the depiction of the transformed winged man here is inspired by Indonesian ‘Wayang’ puppets. If he looks a little sinister, remember that these people are later said to be devil-worshippers, though that wasn’t previously evident. Sinbad himself is dressed as the prosperous merchant which he has now become.
