Aboard Cabrillo's Galleon (5 page)

“And you in mine. Go with God.”

He looked toward the corner of the room and said as his throat tightened, “Take care of them, Lucia.”

Speaking so softly that no sound reached him, she said, “As I always have.”

When Diego began to sniffle Beatriz picked him up and pressed his head to her shoulder. Young Juan snuggled his small body into the folds of her full skirt. Cabrillo kissed Beatriz softly on her flushed cheek and then pivoted away. Striding to the doorway, he lifted his sword from its stand and his cape from its peg. Without looking back, he let Vargas open the door and pull it gently closed behind him.

Rooted in place, Beatriz stood clutching her sons and warring with the urge to follow her husband out the door. But she did not go after him. She would not shame him by exhibiting such weakness before his men.

Diego whimpered into her ear but she hushed him with one quick, “shh!” She strained to listen, relying on the last of her five senses able to confirm her husband's closeness. She stared at the door as she labored to hear each clink of metal and creak of leather. Then the sudden beating of hooves reached her as horses responded to spurs, and their rolling cadence increased as it escaped farther and farther into the distance. She barely breathed until her ears could no longer perceive the slightest reverberation of the earth.

Chapter 3

T
HE
D
OUBLE
A
NCHOR
T
AVERN

C
aptain Antonio Correa impatiently banged his pottery tankard on the rough wooden table and proclaimed, “We should start without them, Captain-General. Any man who fails to appear at the stated time for such an important meeting deserves to miss what comes. The noon hour has long since passed.”

Accustomed as Cabrillo was to the man's crusty character, such intermittent outbursts caused little uneasiness. Cabrillo gave a nod of acknowledgement but offered no sign of acquiescence.

Scholar and navigator Andrés de Urdaneta, Captain-General Villalobos, Captain Bolaños, and Captain Ferrelo of Cabrillo's own fleet also sat close by on long wooden benches in a private chamber just off the Double Anchor Tavern's main room. The year-old pub had been constructed of adobe, posts, and beams, and thatched with palm leaves, and the inspired owner had symbolically proclaimed its name by mounting a pair of crossed anchors above the entry. In the smaller room now occupied by the seamen a single window provided the only entry for an occasional breath of breeze, which seemed to be forever accompanied by a handful of whining mosquitoes. The warm, muggy air was beginning to make the room feel more crowded than it already was as the six men awaited the appearance of the two late arrivals.

“With your permission, gentlemen,” said Cabrillo, bowing his head toward Villalobos, Bolaños, and Urdaneta, and then returning his attention to Correa, “we shall give my men a little longer, Captain.” At the use of his title, Correa's irritation eased a bit, just as Cabrillo had hoped.

The captain-general valued this short-tempered Portuguese for many reasons, including his commendable skill as a pilot and significant experience as a captain. Correa had even sailed with Francisco de Bolaños, who had just returned from his ill-fated voyage over the first stretch of water Cabrillo's fleet intended to navigate. Under Bolaños, Correa had journeyed as far as Abreojos, which lay roughly 300 miles up the western coast from the tip of California's baja. At that point they had been forced to turn back and ultimately await a rescue from Captain Ruy López de Villalobos, the viceroy's own cousin. Cabrillo knew that Correa was anxious to erase the unpleasant taste of failure left by that futile attempt.

Cabrillo had given Correa command of his bergantine
San Miguel
and planned to consult him frequently about the land and sea he had already explored. In addition to the
San Miguel's
sails, thirteen pairs of oars would power Correa's small ship, and he would need every ounce of his obvious toughness to control that crew of rowers, several of whom had been condemned to such hard labor because of their crimes.

Directly across the table from Cabrillo sat Bartolomé Ferrelo, captain of their mid-sized ship
La Victoria
. Ferrelo's ability to steer a vessel under any conditions was so acknowledged that the captain-general had also given him the title of chief pilot. Cabrillo knew him well and held him in unusually high regard. They'd sailed together before aboard the
Santiago
, a ship Cabrillo had constructed but General Alvarado had later commandeered. Several times in the past Cabrillo had seen Ferrelo bring a group of unruly sailors under control with nothing more than a word or an icy stare, and his current crewmen already recognized him as a strict but fair leader. Cabrillo felt confident that those aboard
La Victoria
would be in proficient hands.

At the moment, Ferrelo was smiling with leniency into his tankard of wine, silent as usual. Observing Ferrelo's gentle expression, Cabrillo could not help reflecting on how his two subordinate captains were as dissimilar from one another as snow differs from mud.

While Ferrelo's appearance was neat to the point of fastidiousness, it was evident that Correa could not be troubled about his at all. The cost of Ferrelo's finely tailored wardrobe must have totaled ten times the outlay made for Correa's sturdy clothing. Ferrelo's moustache, with its long tapered ends curling upward to form perfectly balanced arches, was nothing short of a work of art. Correa, on the other hand, seldom remembered to keep his beard or moustache trimmed until it began to itch from the stirrings of small, unwanted denizens. Ferrelo was the fittest, most graceful man in the fleet while Correa sported the beginnings of a gut and moved with the finesse of a lame bull. Beyond appearances, Ferrelo was soft-spoken, thoughtful, and deliberate. Correa spoke loudly and often, his words punctuated by a slight lisp issuing from the gap where two front teeth had once resided.

Fortunately for Cabrillo and his fleet, the two seemed so amused by the extremes of his peer that they got along considerably well. Cabrillo believed that their acceptance of one another was even more due to the fact that, despite their conspicuous differences, the most needed traits to be found in a ship Captains Correa and Ferrelo held in common: loyalty, intelligence, and courage.

Turning again toward the three gentlemen seated to Ferrelo's left, Cabrillo addressed Villalobos, Urdaneta, and Bolaños. “I apologize for Pilot San Remón and Master Uribe's tardiness, gentlemen. They are generally most reliable. I can only presume that something serious has distracted them.”

“Please do not concern yourself, Captain-General Cabrillo,” said Villalobos. “The viceroy's instruction can wait a little longer.”

Urdaneta said, “Such hearty fare as our inn keeper continues to offer has made the waiting enjoyable, sir.”

Bolaños added, “I must add, it is seldom that I have a chance to share such esteemed company, Captain-General.”

They briefly let their attention be diverted by the thin middle-aged serving woman who quietly entered and placed a small bowl of olives and a platter piled high with sheep cheese and flat bread on the table. Cabrillo gave her a nod that said they needed nothing more. Just turning to leave, she let out a startled cry and leaped back to avoid being knocked down by the precipitate arrival of young Pilot Gerónimo de San Remón. A breathless Master Uribe immediately followed his entry but did so with slightly more dignity.

The two men bowed low to the group and the pilot said with his head still down, “Captain Cabrillo, gentlemen, please forgive us for being so late to appear.” He held his bow a little longer than seemed necessary but when he straightened, Captain Correa let out a howl of laughter and Señor Urdaneta slid a hand over his mouth to hide a smile. Cabrillo was so surprised he rose to his feet and addressed his pilot with a highly irregular lack of formality, demanding, “Gerónimo! Explain yourself.” Now that they could all see Pilot San Remón's clean-shaven face clearly, they took a moment to study the bleeding lip, reddened jaw, and puffy left eye marring the youthful virtue his face usually portrayed.

“Captain-General,” he reported in his most official tone, “we were delayed when a fight broke out among the crew of the
San Miguel
.” This abruptly silenced Captain Correa's laughter and expunged his grin. Pilot San Remón went on hurriedly, “Pilot Barreda had requested that I come aboard to check their binnacle compass, sir. I was doing so when the first punch was thrown and, I am ashamed to admit it, sir, but while trying to stop the brawl I was thrown into it, bodily.”

Cabrillo's brow furrowed deeper. “Bodily?” He let out a clipped curse. “What of the other officers?”

San Remón cast his eyes toward Captain Correa and hesitated an instant before confessing, “Pilot Barreda's right arm is being looked after by the surgeon, sir. It might be broken. He also lost a tooth, but he felled three men before he was deprived of the use of his arm. It took the help of the boatswain and some trustworthy rowers, but we soon got all six of the bast—” He swallowed and swept a glance over the distinguished assembly, letting it settle again on Cabrillo. “I mean, sir, that the responsible crewmembers have now been securely chained to the
San Miguel's
oar locks.”

When Cabrillo's scrutiny rotated to Shipmaster Uribe, who stood noticeably unscathed, Pilot San Remón added quickly, “Master Uribe tried to come to our assistance, Captain-General, but he was at a storehouse by the dock when the trouble started. It was nearly over by the time he could arrive.”

“I apologize, sir,” said Uribe, “for noticing the fight too late to give the aid I would have liked.”

Cabrillo accepted this and then asked his pilot, “Do you know what started it?”

“Not yet, sir.”

“Were any knives drawn, pilot?”

“None, Captain-General Cabrillo, thank God.”

Looking about to erupt from the pressure of holding back a reaction to the conduct of his men, Correa shouted, “Why, that pack of criminals!” Despite this outburst, however, there was a barely discernable hint of pride behind the condemnation. Still, he knew what was required under such circumstances. “Every man involved will feel his share of the lash, sir, and they'll all be kept in chains until we sail.”

Cabrillo had not yet finished his questioning. “Who were the instigators, pilot?”

“Gaspar seems to have started things by—”

Correa exploded again. “That devil! He gives more trouble than the rest locked together.”

To Correa, Cabrillo said, “Considering this new misconduct, Captain, I ask you to reflect on whether Gaspar should be left behind.”

Correa actually did pause to reflect, but only for a moment. “He is a robber and a scoundrel, Captain-General, but he is young, and I feel there is hope for him still.”

All gazes swung to Cabrillo, who sat down again and closed his eyes while running a hand twice across the back of his neck. At last he said, “Very well, Captain Correa, I will allow you to decide the sentence since it is your crew, but I will have the entire fleet witness both the pronouncement of the judgment and its execution.”

“Of course, Captain-General,” said Correa. “After the guilty have been dealt with, sir, if any of them value what is left of their hides, they will not repeat such behavior.”

“See that your boatswain bears in mind that we sail in two weeks, Captain,” Cabrillo cautioned. “The punished men must be seaworthy by then.”

“Yes, sir.”

Cabrillo signaled for San Remón and Uribe to take seats to his right, his pilot next to him. As they were doing so, Cabrillo bent his head close to San Remón and said in an undertone, “Any real damage done to you, pilot?”

San Remón managed a painful smile, “Only to my pride, sir.”

Despite being the youngest of his officers, San Remón had skills Cabrillo held in such esteem that he had chosen him above several others to pilot his flagship. Uribe, wizened by experience and time, and calm as an oak in any crisis, had also been chosen with care to act as shipmaster. It disturbed Cabrillo more than he revealed that these two men had been pulled into a scuffle aboard the bergantine. Things had been going relatively smoothly during the preparation of his fleet, as well as with the construction of Villalobos' ships, until this. Cabrillo tried to reassure himself by remembering that a mishap or two always arose prior to embarking. He just hoped this would be the only such occurrence before they sailed, or afterward for that matter.

Cabrillo said with a touch of chagrin, “Captain-General Villalobos, now that my men are all gathered, would you be kind enough to review the final directives of Viceroy Mendoza?”

Possessing an unmistakable resemblance to his powerful cousin, Villalobos nodded courteously. He was prepared to make considerable allowances for Cabrillo's crews.

Cabrillo had been working diligently to oversee the construction of not only his own ships but Villalobos' as well. Both fleets were to be completed or nearly so before Cabrillo's sailing in late June, although Villalobos intended to remain in Navidad until the end of October or beginning of November. The difference in timing took into consideration Cabrillo's longer northern course versus Villalobos' more direct southern route, and the two captain-generals hoped to rendezvous in the Molucca or San Lázaro Islands at around the same time in the first months of the new year.

Villalobos addressed them all. “Gentlemen, some of you are familiar with the viceroy's orders given to Domingo López de Zuñiga last year. The orders for our voyages mirror them closely.” He then began to read the commands, which first stated the names of the ships and the chief officers, and which required a detailed listing of every hand and weapon aboard each ship. The document then described the appropriate handling and storing of goods for barter and the terms of all trading activities. Next, Captain-General Villalobos read the viceroy's words requiring officers to hold the morality of their men to the highest standard. He paused here and glanced pointedly at Captain Correa, then resumed by adding that blasphemy was not to be tolerated and that the two priests accompanying the armada must be treated with great respect.