It was three in the afternoon. The wind and sea did not work nor seem to fight with our poor ship, which was so much over on one side, when a great sea arose, followed by two frightful claps of thunder, and by such a fierce gust of wind that there seemed to be nothing left for the ship but to turn over on her keel. Then the semblances of the dead were seen, the most courageous ordering they knew not what, and the Pilots dumb. Sighs, vows, promises, and colloquies with God could be heard, and one who said: “O Lord! for what have I served in all that has been done and seen if this ship is to go the bottom?” and he passed on with great demonstrations of faith. In short, all were crying out, seeking help from God, who was served that the fury of the wind passed from N.E. to W., and it began to go down. The ship, raising her neck and shaking her sides, quickly righted, and before night we made sail and shaped an E.S.E. course, making for Cape Corrientes.
Death of the Father Commissary.
Now we proceeded under all sail with the wind astern and the people happy, recounting the events of the recent battle with the elements that it was well to note; some to arouse laughter, others with amazement at having been witnesses of such a violent storm, the rigour of which would have been greater and the damage worse if it had continued through the night. Some praised the ship, its handiness and strength; others the courage and nerve, and the prompt diligence, and all the most high Lord for His mercies. Others there were who said that the tempest and its furies were necessary to humiliate the proud, to make the ungrateful grateful, and that might come to an end all the enmities caused from want of love. For with such love can be suffered, with manly fortitude, what had passed and a little more. Such events more quickly give than offer; how much more where there was not one who had a bad taste except this, which it was more difficult to suffer, one to another for so long a time, in one ship always seeing the same faces. I say no wonder, if fathers tire of their sons, brothers and friends quarrel, and a husband sometimes comes to abhor his dear wife.
Our Father Commissary, who had been ill for some time (I think from want of proper nourishment, and owing to his great age), was attacked with paroxysms and agonies in the middle of the following night, and God was served in taking his life. Having worn his habit for forty years, and being nearly eighty years old; also having died in a just cause, having gained the jubilee conceded to the expedition, we may well hope that he enjoys the presence of God. For the rest of the night his body was lighted with four wax candles. When the day came, the Father, his companion, with the crew of the ship, prayed to God for his soul, and with much feeling he was buried in the sea in sight of the islands called “Las Tres Marias.”[2]
The native named Pablo was very attentive, looking on at what was taking place. As he saw that the body, owing to the weight attached to its feet, went down, while, at the time of his baptism, they told him that when Christians die they go to heaven, he asked how it was that the Father, being a Christian, went to the bottom of the sea. As best we could, he was given to understand that only the soul went to heaven. As he knew little about that, he remained doubtful; and all were full of admiration at seeing a boy of eight years old ask such a question, who, only the other day, was a brutish gentile.
[1] An arroba=25 lbs.
[2] Wooded islands, off the port of San Blas, on the west coast of Mexico.