In passing this great gulf from the coast of Brasil to the Cape of Good Hope, we had the wind often variable, as it is on our own coast, but, for the most part, so as that we could hold our course. The 28th of July we had sight of the Cape; and till the 31st we plied off and on, with a contrary wind, always in hopes to double the Cape, meaning to have gone 70 leagues farther, to a place called Aguada de San Bras, before seeking to put in at any harbour. But as our men were sick in all our ships, we thought it good to seek some place of refreshment for them; wherefore we bore up with the land to the northward of the Cape, on the west coast of Africa; and going along shore, we espied a goodly bay, having an island to leeward of its mouth, into which we entered, and found it very commodious to ride in at anchor. This bay is called Aguada de Saldanha, being in lat. 33° S. 15 leagues northward on this side from the Cape;[11] and in it we anchored on Sunday the 1st August, and immediately sent our sick men on shore.
[Footnote 11: It will appear distinctly in the sequel of these early voyages, that this Aguada de Saldanha, called likewise Saldanha or Saldania bay, was that now named Table bay, on which stands Cape Town, and not that which is now called Saldanha bay, which is ten or twelve leagues farther north, and on the same western coast of Africa.--E.]
Certain very brutish black savages came to them, but would not stay, and immediately retired. For the space of 15 or 20 days, we could procure no fresh provisions, except some cranes and geese which we shot; and we could get no fish but mussels and other shell-fish, which we gathered on the rocks. At the end of this time, our admiral went one day with his pinnace to the island off the mouth of the bay, where he found great numbers of penguins and seals, of which he brought plenty with him to the ships, and twice afterwards some of our people brought their boats loaded with these animals. Alter we had been here some time, we got hold of a negro, whom we compelled to go along with us into the country, making signs to him to procure us some cattle; but not being able at this time to come in sight of any, we let the negro go, giving him some trifling presents.[12] Within eight days after, he and 30 or 40 other negroes brought us down about 40 oxen and as many sheep, at which time we only bought a few of them; but, about eight days afterwards, they brought down as many more, when we bought 24 oxen and as many sheep. The oxen were large and well-fleshed, but not fat; and we bought an ox for two knives, and a stirk, or young beast, for one knife. The sheep are very large, and excellent mutton, having hair instead of wool, and great tails like those of Syria. We gave a knife for a sheep, and even got some for less value. We saw various wild beasts, as antilopes, red and fallow deer, and other large beasts, which we knew not, with a great number of overgrown monkies or baboons. Mr Lancaster killed an antilope as large as a young colt.
[Footnote 12: This negro must, of course, have been a Hotentot.--E.]
Holding a consultation in respect to the prosecution of our, voyage, it was thought best to proceed rather with two ships well manned, than with two weakly manned, having only 198 men in sound health, of whom 100 went in the Penelope with our admiral, and 98 in the Edward, with the worshipful Captain Lancaster. We left behind 50 men in the Royal Merchant, Captain Abraham Kendal, of whom a good many were well recovered, thinking proper, for many reasons, to send home that ship. The disease that consumed our men was the scurvy. Our soldiers, who had not been used to the sea, held out best, while our mariners dropt away, which, in my judgment, proceeded from their evil diet at home.
Six days after sending home the Royal Merchant from Saldanha bay, our admiral, Captain Raymond, in the Penelope, and Captain James Lancaster in the Edward Bonadventure, set forward to double the Cape of Good Hope, which they now did very readily. When we had passed as far as Cape Corientes, on the east coast of Africa, at the entry into the channel of Mozambique, we encountered a dreadful storm, with excessive gusts of wind, during which we lost sight of our admiral, and could never hear of him nor his ship more, though we used our best endeavours to seek him, by plying up and down a long while, and afterwards staid for him several days at the island of Comoro, which we had appointed our rendezvous in case of separation. Four days after this unfortunate separation, we had a tremendous clap of thunder at ten o'clock one morning, which slew four of our men outright, without speaking one word, their necks being wrung asunder. Of 94 other men, not one remained untouched, some being struck blind, some bruised in their arms and legs, others in their breasts, so that they voided blood for two days: some were as it were drawn out in length, as if racked. But, God be praised, they all recovered, except the four men who were struck dead. With the same flash of lightning our mainmast was terribly split from the head to the deck, some of the spikes that went ten inches into the wood being melted by the fervent heat.
From thence[13] we shaped our course north-east, and not long afterwards fell in with the north-west point[14] of the island of St Lawrence, or Madagascar, which, by God's blessing, one of our men espied late in the evening by moonlight.
[Footnote 13: The place of shaping this course is by no means obvious. It could not be from Comoro, which is farther north than the north end of Madagascar, and was therefore probably from near Cape Corientes.--E.]
[Footnote 14: From the sequel, the text is certainly not accurate in this place, as they were not so far as this cape by 100 leagues. It probably was Cape St Andrews.--E.]
Seeing from afar the breaking of the sea, he called to some of his comrades, asking what it meant, when they told him it was the sea breaking upon shoals or rocks, upon which we put about ship in good time, to avoid the danger we were like to have incurred. Continuing our voyage, it was our lot to overshoot Mozambique, and to fall in with Quitangone, two leagues farther north, where we took three or four barks belonging to the Moors, laden with millet, hens, and ducks, going as provisions for Mozambique, and having one Portuguese boy on board. These barks are called pangaias in their language.