Persons who have never travelled amongst the savages cannot imagine how, without having been instructed in the arts, and without nails, one could stop up the fissures in such a boat, and put it in a state fit for sea. Yet the means were very simple; our poignards, bamboos, and rattans supplied everything; by scraping a bamboo we obtained from it something like tow, which we put into the chinks, so that the water could not enter. If it was necessary to stop any breach a few inches in width, we took from the bamboo a little plank, somewhat larger than the opening we wished to close, and then with the point of the poignard we pierced it all round with little holes, to match those which were made in the same manner in the boat itself. Afterwards, with long strings of the rattan, which we split up and made fine, we sewed the little plank to the boat, just as one would a piece of cloth on a coat; we covered the sewing with the elemi gum, and were sure the water could not pass through. The rattan served instead of hemp, and supplied all our necessities on the occasion.
We worked with ardour at this our new and only means of safety. Once caulked, we placed in it two large bamboos as beams, for without those beams we could not have sailed for ten minutes without being upset. Another bamboo served as our mast; the large sack of matting that contained our skeleton was transformed into a sail. At last, before the night was far advanced, every preparation was finished. The wind was favourable, and we hastened to try our boat, and to struggle with new difficulties.
We placed in the canoe our arms and the skeleton, the cause of our new troubles; we then pushed the boat over the sand and got it afloat. It took us a good half-hour to get clear of the breakers. We were every moment in danger of being swamped by the large waves, which rolled on, dashing against the rocks that bound the shore. At last, after we had overcome a thousand difficulties and dangers, we reached the open sea, and the regular wave—a real movable mountain—lifted up, without any sudden shock, our frail boat almost to the skies, and then in the same quiet manner let it sink into an abyss, from which it was again raised to the top of a liquid mountain. These large waves, which follow each other usually from interval to interval very regularly, cause no danger to a good pilot, who takes the precaution of turning the prow of his boat so as to meet them. But woe to him if he forgets himself, and makes a false manœuvre, he is then sure to be upset and wrecked. Being used to the management of canoes, and, more confident in my own vigilance when at sea than in that of my Indians, I took the helm. The wind was favourable; we set up our little sail, and went very fast, although every moment I was obliged to turn the prow to the heavy waves. We were already a sufficient distance from the shore not to fear, if the wind changed, that we should be driven in among the breakers. Everything led us to expect a safe voyage, when unfortunately my poor Indians were taken ill. They had never sailed before except on the lakes of fresh water, and were now attacked with sea-sickness. This was vexatious to me, for I knew from experience that a person so attacked for the first time is altogether incapable of rendering any service, and even of protecting himself against the smallest danger that threatens him. I had no one to aid me in managing the boat, and was obliged to rely on my own exertions. I told him who held the sheet of the sail to hand it to me, and I twisted it round my foot, for both my hands were engaged in holding the paddle which was our helm. My Indians, like two inanimate bodies, lay at the bottom of the boat.
When I reflect on my position,—on the ocean, in a frail boat; having only for helps two individuals who could not move, two skulls, and a skeleton of an Ajetas,—I cannot help thinking that the reader may imagine that I have concocted a story for his amusement. However, I relate facts exactly as they occurred, and I leave all at liberty to believe as they please.
I was, as it were, alone in my frail boat, struggling continually with the large waves, which obliged me every moment to deviate from the course. I longed for daylight, for I hoped to be able to discern the beach of Binangonan de Lampon, as a place of refuge, where I should find the frank hospitality and the valuable assistance of my old friends.
At last the long-wished-for sun arose above the horizon, and I saw that we were about three leagues from the coast. I had gone far too much out to sea, and had passed Binangonan a long way. It was not possible to steer back, the wind would not allow it; so I decided on pursuing the same course, and on doing my best to reach, before night, Maoban, a large Tagaloc village, situate on the coast of Luzon, and which is separated by a small ridge of mountains from the lake of Bay. The first rays of the sun and a little calm restored my Indians to a state of being able to render me some service. We passed the day without eating or drinking, and we had the regret of seeing that we had not attained our purpose. Our position was most distressing: a storm might rise, the wind might blow with force, and our only resource then would be to throw ourselves into the breakers, and to reach the shore as well as we could. But luckily nothing of the kind took place; and about midnight we knew, from meeting a small island, that we were in front of the village of Maoban. I steered to it, and in a short time we arrived in a calm quiet bay, near a sandy shore. The fatigue and want of food had thoroughly exhausted my strength. I had no sooner landed than I threw myself on the ground, and fell into a deep sleep, which lasted until day. When I awoke I found the sun’s rays were shining full upon me: it was near seven o’clock. On any other occasion I should have been ashamed of my laziness, but could I feel dissatisfied with myself for sleeping soundly after thirty-six hours’ fasting, and spent in such extraordinary exertions? During my sleep one of my Indians went into the village in search of provisions, and I found excellent rice and salt fish near me. We made a delicious and splendid breakfast. My Indians, on behalf of the inhabitants, asked me to go to the village, and spend the day, but I was too eager to reach home. I knew by walking quickly we could get through the mountains, and arrive at night on the banks of the lake, within a few hours’ journey from my house. I determined to start without any delay. We took our things out of the boat; the little sail retook its former shape, as a sack, to hold the skulls and the skeleton, the cause of all the disasters to which we had been exposed, and, with reunited strength, and abundant provisions for the day, we began to mount the high hills which separate the gulf of Maoban from the lake of Bay. The journey was laborious and painful. At seven o’clock we embarked on the lake, and towards midnight we reached Jala-Jala, where I very speedily forgot all the toil and trouble of my long and dangerous journey, while pressing my son in my arms and covering him with paternal kisses.
My excellent friend Vidie, to whom I sold my house and establishment, gave me letters which he had received from Manilla, and from them I learned that my presence was desired there on affairs of importance. I resolved to start on the following day.
View of Manilla from the Environs.