He left this anchorage on November 16th. Two days afterwards he sighted the Cape, but the wind being from the S.S.W. he was obliged to stand off and on until the 22nd, when he succeeded in getting beyond it “without encountering the storms and perils expected by the mariners”; and following the coast he cast anchor in the Bay of S. Braz on the 25th, and there set up his first padrão. In that run he must have been favoured by the wind, which along the coast and in November blows generally from the S.E., although westerly winds and even gales are not infrequent.
Barros, Castanheda, and Goes give the same account of the doubling of the Cape, but Correa would have us believe that Vasco da Gama, after having made a landfall to the north of the Cape, stood out for the open sea for a month, until there were scarcely six hours of sunlight in the day; and that, even after that, and after he had once more failed to reach the southern extremity of Africa, he continued south for two more months. Then at last he turned again to the east, and found that he had doubled the Cape. Beyond it he discovered lofty mountains and many rivers, one of which was ascended by Coelho for twenty leagues.[441] The utter absurdity of this account is evident, and it is surprising that it should have been accepted by serious historians. A day of six hours may be experienced in lat. 58° 30´ S. in mid-winter—that is in June—but nowhere in the southern hemisphere during summer. In November the duration of daylight in that latitude is about sixteen hours, and to talk about “darkness” under these circumstances seems absurd. It would, moreover, have been impossible to reach so high a latitude without coming amidst masses of drift-ice, which surely would have proved a stranger experience to Vasco’s companions than “tremendous seas” and “high winds”, and better worth recording.
Along the East Coast of Africa.
On December 8th Vasco left the Bay of S. Braz, and four days afterwards experienced a heavy westerly gale (p. 18).
Barros, Goes, and Castanheda refer to this gale, but Correa, not content with a gale, conjures up a succession of storms, continuing for days, so that the crews clamoured to be taken back to Portugal. The men in Coelho’s ships are actually said to have conspired to mutiny at the earliest opportunity. Their intention, we are expected to believe, was made known to the captain-major by a mysteriously-worded message shouted from ship to ship by Coelho. Vasco at once summoned his people, declared to them that “if the bad weather came again he had determined to put back; but to disculpate himself with the King it was necessary for some among them to sign a document giving the reasons for putting back.” Having invited on this pretence his pilot, his master and three leading seamen into his cabin, he treacherously put them in irons, and, flinging all the instruments necessary for navigating the ship into the sea, declared that God would henceforth be their master and pilot. The men were released on reaching the River of Mercy, but on their return to Portugal they were ironed once more, to be presented in that degrading state to their King![442]
Osorio[443] likewise gives an account of a mutiny, but says that it occurred before the Cape was doubled. He differs in other respects from Correa, stating, for instance, that “all the pilots were put in chains.” As Osorio’s book was published in 1571, whilst Correa’s MS., although written in 1561, only reached Lisbon in 1583, it is not probable that the former borrowed from the latter. They may both have derived their information from the same impure source, and accepted an idle tradition as the record of a fact. That there may have been some discontent among the men is quite possible, but we cannot believe that the pilots intended to head a mutiny. We quite agree with Professor Kopke,[444] when he prefers the authority of Barros, Goes, and Castanheda, and of the author of this “Journal”, to that of Osorio. This applies with still greater force to the absurdly elaborate account of Correa. Professor A. Herculano, in the second edition of the Roteiro (p. viii), discredits Professor Kopke’s notes on the insufficient ground that the eminent authorities referred to above refrained from every allusion to a mutiny from a “fear of tarnishing the fame of Vasco da Gama’s companions.” But Herculano believed in Correa—we do not.
Early on December 15th, Vasco once more made for the land, and found himself abreast, the Ilhéos Chãos (Bird islands) in Algoa Bay, having thus covered only a couple of hundred miles in the course of seven days. Fair progress was made for a couple of days after this. The vessels kept near the coast, and being favoured by the wind, and also by an inshore counter-current, were able to pass beyond the pillar set up by Dias and the furthest point reached by that navigator. But on December 17th the wind sprang round to the east. Vasco da Gama stood out to sea, and was thus made to experience the full force of the Agulhas current, which here runs at a distance of about ten miles from the land. He was unable to make head against the combined forces of wind and current, and when, on December 20th, he again approached the land he found himself at the Ilhéo da Cruz, 27 miles to the westward of the group of islets from which he had started on the 15th (see p. [15]).
Henceforth, for a number of days, the wind proved propitious, and by December 25th our voyagers, clinging all the while to the coast, had proceeded 240 miles beyond the furthest point reached by Dias (as estimated by the pilots); and three days afterwards they cast anchor and took a quantity of fish. This locality we identify with Durnford Point—the Ponta da Pescaria of the old charts—300 miles beyond the Rio de Infante (which was Dias’s furthest), and 370 miles beyond the Ilhéo da Cruz. The daily run since December 20th had thus averaged 46 miles.
Vasco da Gama then stood off the land, for reasons not given by any of the historians. Whether it was from fear of being driven upon a lee-shore by a strong easterly wind, or the hope of being able to shorten his passage by a more direct north-easterly course, we are unable to tell. However that may be, a fortnight passed before the vessels returned to the land, so that drinking-water began to fail, and the men had to be put on short rations. It was on the 11th of January that Vasco da Gama found himself off the mouth of a small river, the Rio do Cobre, where he established friendly relations with the “good people” of a country ruled by petty chiefs.[445] The distance of this river from the “Fishing Point” is only 315 miles, and contrary winds must therefore have driven the little flotilla far out of its direct course, but not as far as the neighbourhood of Madagascar, for southerly winds would have been picked up there, which would have carried it more speedily towards its destination than was possible in the face of the south-easterly winds prevailing along the coast of Africa.
After a stay of five days, Vasco da Gama left the Rio do Cobre on January 16th, and without further incident, and leaving Sofala far to the west, he arrived off the mouth of the Rio dos Bons Signaes (Kilimani) on January 24th, having thus accomplished a distance of 480 miles in eight days. Coelho’s caravel at once crossed the bar to take soundings, and the two ships followed on the next day. In this river Vasco da Gama stayed 31 days, careening his vessels, refreshing his crews, and erecting a padrão dedicated to S. Raphael (see p. [19]). It was here that he heard the glad tidings of more civilised regions in front of him.