Marooned Part 3

A two-masted ship, a "Manila galleon," was the largest and richest merchant vessel sailing the oceans. In June of each year since 1565, a Manila galleon set out from Manila in the Philippine Islands, bound for Acapulco, Mexico. Each treasure ship carried chests of gold and exotic trade goods from India, China, and j.a.pan.

In Acapulco a galleon unloaded its treasure onto wagons, which then traveled overland to ports on the Gulf of Mexico. There the cargo was reloaded on ships bound for Spain.

To protect its valuable cargo, a Manila galleon mounted forty to eighty heavy guns. The most powerful was a thirty-two-pounder. At close range it could send iron shot the size of coconuts smashing through two feet of solid oak.

Rogers knew a galleon was a floating fortress. "These large ships are built at Manila with excellent timber that will not splinter. They have very thick sides, much stronger than we build in Europe."

He also knew that, years earlier, a Manila galleon had fought off a fleet of fourteen Dutch privateers. The galleon sailed victoriously away from the battle, ninety cannonb.a.l.l.s embedded like raisins in its hull. The defeated Dutch fleet slunk away with broken masts, torn sails, and seawater pouring through holes from the galleon's cannonb.a.l.l.s in their sides.

By mid-December the galleon had still not arrived. The patrols went ceaselessly on, day after day. The Marquiss had to leave the picket line for repairs. She sailed for Port Segura (probably today's San Lucas on the southern tip of Baja California). The tiny Spanish settlement offered a harbor protected from wind and waves. Cannons on the Marquiss probably a.s.sured repairs could be carried out peacefully. The Duke and d.u.c.h.ess maintained the patrol, sailing back and forth, keeping watch.

On December 21 at nine o'clock in the morning, a lookout on the Duke cried, "A sail!" There she was, the Manila galleon, heading south for Acapulco, white sails bending to the wind, proud and bold.

Selkirk in the Joseph began tracking the lumbering treasure ship, staying just out of range of the big guns. Using signal lanterns at night, he kept the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess informed of the galleon's position. Rogers recorded: "[The] d.u.c.h.ess pa.s.s'd by her at night, and she fired 2 shot at [the galleon] but they return'd none."

In the morning Rogers gathered the crew around the mainmast and led them in prayer. Cups of hot chocolate were then distributed from a kettle on deck-the Duke had run out of rum. The same ceremony was taking place on the far-off d.u.c.h.ess, but she was becalmed. No wind moved her toward the galleon.

Sighting the galleon through his spygla.s.s, Rogers saw "barrels hanging at each yard-arm, that looked like powder barrels, to deter us from boarding 'em. About 8 a clock we began to engage her by our selves."

Rogers's smaller and faster Duke came up behind, firing cannon shot into the galleon's stern, aiming at the exposed rudder, which steered the huge ship. The galleon replied with two small cannons mounted on the rail-stern chasers-but their aim was off. No shots. .h.i.t the charging raider.

Rogers then drove the Duke along the big ship's side. Cannonb.a.l.l.s splintered the Duke's deck, but the Spanish gunners "did not ply their great guns half as fast as we did."

Sharpshooters high in the Duke's rigging picked off Spanish gunners on the galleon's deck.

After a three-hour battle the galleon's flag suddenly dropped. Surrender!

A crew from Duke boarded the galleon. They found the Spanish sailors, after their six-month cruise from Manila, suffering from scurvy. Food and water were scarce. The Duke's boarding party herded the crew below decks, then worked the big galleon to Port Segura. The Duke, the d.u.c.h.ess, and Selkirk's Joseph followed. They found the Marquiss finishing repairs.

Nine Spanish seamen had been killed in the battle, ten wounded, "and several blown up and burnt with powder." But on Duke only two had been wounded. One was Rogers. A bullet from a Spanish sharpshooter had hit his left jaw.

"[The] bullet struck away a great part of my upper jaw and several of my teeth, part of which dropt upon the deck, where I fell."

The musket ball, the size of a grape, lodged sharp as a thorn in his jaw. Days later he swallowed a piece of jawbone, but the musket ball stayed in place.

Rogers chose Selkirk to accompany him aboard the galleon-the Spanish name recorded by Rogers as Nostra Seniora de la Incarnacion Disenganio-to inspect the treasure ship's cargo.

Both men were astonished at what they found: chests of gold coins; silver plates and wine goblets; belts of pearls; necklaces of rubies and diamonds; statues of gold and jade; delicate porcelain vases; tapestries to hang on the cold stone walls of palaces; silk gowns and stockings; swords with handles studded with precious gems; rolls of silk; tons of spices; caskets of earrings, bracelets, uncut gems; and more.

The cargo would bring a fabulous price in London.

Rather than transfer the loot to the smaller ships, Rogers decided to sail the Incarnation-renamed the Batchelor-back to England. For the 19,000-mile voyage he named Selkirk the ship's pilot.

On January 11, 1710, the four ships-the Duke, d.u.c.h.ess, Marquiss, and Batchelor-left Port Segura and headed west across the Pacific. (Rogers gave the smaller Joseph and Increase to the Spanish prisoners to sail to Acapulco.) No one knew in those years just how long a pa.s.sage across the world's broadest ocean would take. One hundred miles noon to noon, the pace of a steady walk, was considered a good day's sail.

The first landfall, on March 11, was Guam. After 6,000 miles, the food was "almost exhausted."

Guam was a Spanish island. To persuade the governor to sell food to English ships, Rogers ordered gun ports opened. Cannon muzzles showed that the visitor was not to be trifled with. Rogers then wrote a letter to the island's governor: "We ... will not molest the settlement, provided you deal friendly by us. We will pay for whatever provisions and refreshments you have to spare.... But if after this civil request you deny us ... you may immediately expect such military treatment, as we are with ease able to give you."

The governor was pleased to cooperate with "all imaginable friendship and respect."

In four days the ships took aboard 8 cows and calves, 60 pigs, 99 chickens, baskets of corn and yams, sacks of rice, 800 coconuts, limes, oranges, and melons, but, as far as is known, no green vegetables.

Rogers paid "double the value of what we received of them." Even in the enemy's camp his tact and courtesy showed.

The food, however, didn't last. So starved were the men during the pa.s.sage from Guam west that they trapped rats in the holds-one rat skinned and cooked sold for sixpence. Rogers observed the crew eating the rodents "very savourly."

The lack of fresh food again brought on the seamen's sickness, scurvy-bleeding gums oozing pus, swollen limbs, dark moods, men too weak to leave their hammocks.

By June 20, when the ships arrived at Batavia (now Jakarta) in the Dutch East Indies, seventy men on the four ships had died, mostly from the disease. Rogers sold the Marquiss for 575 Dutch dollars. Her bottom was "eat to a honey-comb by the worms." In places, only the thickness of a Spanish coin held the sea from entering the hull.

Still suffering his painful jaw wound, Rogers visited a Dutch doctor, who "cut a large musket-shot" out of his jaw, "which had been there near 6 months, ever since I was first wounded." A cup or two of rum to ease the pain was probably the only anesthesia he received.

For four months the crew recovered from the hardships of the Pacific crossing. Then the remaining three ships left the Dutch port. They sailed west across the Indian Ocean for the Cape of Good Hope on the southern tip of Africa.

On December 27 they anch.o.r.ed in Table Bay. Cape Town consisted of a church and 250 homes. Many showed fine gardens of flowers and grapevines. The Duke came sluggishly to rest. Water sloshed in her bottom. Pumps from the d.u.c.h.ess and Batchelor pumped her dry.

Three months later, on April 6, 1711, the Duke, d.u.c.h.ess, and Batchelor left Cape Town in a convoy of twenty-five Dutch merchant ships. The large fleet was a safety precaution against Spanish warships-England and Holland were still at war with Spain and France. The fleet arrived in the Dutch port of Texel on July 23.

For nearly three months the three privateers waited in Holland. Then four English warships arrived to bring them safely home.

Up the River Thames the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess, banners flying, escorted their valuable prize. They anch.o.r.ed two miles below London.

Rogers penned a final entry in his journal: "Octob. 14. This day at 11 of the clock, we and our consort and prize got up to Erith where we came to an anchor, which ends our long and fatiguing voyage."

Selkirk's grand adventure was over. There had been days on a faraway island when he had expected never to see England again. Wherever he looked now there were English warships, merchantmen, fishing smacks, the gold-trimmed barges of the wealthy. Life must have seemed very good.

"[He] frequently bewailed his return to the world, which could not ...

with all its enjoyments, restore him to the tranquility of his solitude."

SIX.

Marooned in London.

Selkirk had left London with little more than the clothes in his sea chest. Now, some eight years later, he returned to the city a wealthy man.

The sale of the treasure aboard the Manila galleon, the booty from twenty merchant ships, and the plunder from the raid on Guayaquil brought 147,975 pounds sterling (). Investors-those wealthy merchants, lawyers, and physicians who, for 13,000, had bought the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess and provided the cannons, muskets, and cutla.s.ses-took two-thirds of the profit. The remaining third was shared by the two crews according to rank and duties.

Rogers's share came to 1,600. Selkirk received 800, about the yearly income of a banker or leading merchant in London.

Each share was an enormous sum of money. Seamen on cargo ships typically earned one pound per month. A carpenter's wages for the same period amounted to a little more than two pounds, and plumbers received about four pounds a month for workdays that lasted ten to thirteen hours, six days a week.

Selkirk rented rooms in the home of John and Katherine Mason, a tailor and his wife. This would be his home for the next two and a half years. He slept in a feather bed under a thick comforter smelling of fresh herbs. He had money and good health, but he soon became restless and discontented.

On some mornings, half awake, he listened for the clang of a ship's bell, the cries of the officer on watch, the whoom of sails catching wind. Instead, from the street came the rattle of wagons and coaches on paving stones, horses' hoofs clopping, dogs barking, the cries of vegetable sellers and knife grinders. Housemaids going about their duties padded by in the hall.

He may have wondered what a wealthy mariner back from a successful privateering voyage should do with his days. He had no need to find work. Like most newcomers to the city, he probably wandered. London's busy street life was always entertaining.

There were jugglers and acrobats to watch, as well as c.o.c.kfights, dogfights, and sometimes a circle of men whipping a chained bear to the cheers of bystanders.

Taverns posted signs offering to make a man drunk for a penny. And there were games-cricket, tennis, bowling, and boxing matches between women as well as men. Peddlers playing hand organs offered rabbits for sale and pots of milk and water. Crowded streets often made way for firemen dashing to a burning house, hauling a water pump and shouting, "Hi! Hi! Hi!"

He may have visited the Wax Works, 140 lifelike figures of notable Londoners, and walked streets known for the occupations of merchants: goldsmiths in Guthron's Lane, butchers in East Cheap, shoemakers in Cordwainer Street, candlemakers in Lochbury.

On Mondays, Londoners hastened to hangings in the Tyburn district. Stands for spectators and a special gallows had been erected to send twenty-four men and women criminals to their just rewards at one drop. Tyburn was a popular public spectacle.

Days dawdled away. He strolled wharves where ships were loading and unloading. The waterfront was being filled in so wharves could be built to bring more goods-furs, wools, grain, beer, iron, wax, and more-for the city's growing population.

Selkirk was a reader, so no doubt he stopped at booksellers' shops and bought a daily newspaper to read in one of London's many coffeehouses. Shopkeepers, real estate agents, journalists, lawyers, and doctors sat at tables talking business and politics and smoking long clay pipes.

Everyone seemed to have a purpose, a destination, an occupation. Selkirk's Scottish character urged that he account for each day with some useful work. He was free, but he needed an occupation.

When no other distraction offered itself and the day hung heavy, he found a tavern. There he whiled away hours drinking beer or ale and feeding his discontent with gin and brandy.

But his life was about to change.

Sometime in 1712 Woodes Rogers published a book.

A Cruising Voyage Round the World was an account of the privateering voyage Rogers had commanded. Sections told about the rescue of Selkirk on Juan Fernandez and the capture of the Manila galleon.

The book became the most popular travel book of the year and was reprinted in French, Dutch, and German.

Selkirk, the man who had survived four years alone on an island, became a celebrity. Rogers escorted him about town and introduced him to rich friends. He was invited to dinner parties.

The former castaway, son of a leather tanner and harness maker, now entered an unfamiliar world of wealth and comfort. Rooms glowed with candles. The merchants, bankers, and ship owners Selkirk met wore clothes cut in the latest style-knee-length coats, frilled shirts, and vests of yellow, scarlet, or blue. Bright bows at the neck tied powdered wigs.

And the women-rare birds in tall hairdos, faces powdered and painted, pale arms untouched by sun. Gems sparkled in hair, around necks, on silken shoes. Their lively eyes watched the strange man who had lived on an uninhibited island.

Following Rogers's advice, Selkirk tried to talk about his four years alone. A brief mention that he wore a jacket and breeches of goatskin, however, likely brought on helpless laughter, itching and scratching, the elegant guests pretending the p.r.i.c.kly skins touched their flesh.

Interest soon faded from their eyes. What they really wanted to hear about was the Manila galleon and all those lovely things the treasure ship had carried-gold and silver plates and wine goblets, silk stockings and gowns, swords with handles of precious gems, and more.

He was a merely an amus.e.m.e.nt, a novelty to occupy an idle hour.

Dinner was usually not served until nine o'clock-soup and fish and meat and fowl, twelve courses in all.

Should he say he had chased goats over rocks to put food in his stomach? Had watched shipmates skin and cook rats to eat? It sounded unreal. How could they understand hunger, how it made good men mean and savage?

In most homes when dinner ended, guests moved to the drawing room. Servants set up tables and the card games began-loo and faro and hazard.

The games often lasted until dawn lightened the sky. The air was then thick with pipe smoke and the women's heavy perfume. Too much brandy might have left his head woolly.

Selkirk may have found himself standing alone at a tall window overlooking a garden, perhaps thinking back to dawns on his island, the sun rising out of the Pacific, the air cool, Great Bay reflecting high pink clouds.

Then, out of the blue, a chance came to return to his island. A meeting with Woodes Rogers offered the possibility.

The former privateer captain now dressed in the latest fashion-scarlet coat with bra.s.s b.u.t.tons, velvet breeches, black silk stockings, a wig with curls that hung to his shoulders. He had become a successful businessman, sending merchant ships loaded with cargo to the Bahama Islands, east of Florida. (In 1717 King George I was to appoint Rogers "Captain-General and Governor-in-Chief in and over our Bahama Islands in America.") Now that peace had been restored between England and Spain, Rogers told his former mate and comrade, a new, highly profitable venture was in the works. The South Sea Company was the idea of Sir Robert Harley, Chancellor of the Exchequer, the royal treasury. The plan was to set up trading posts along the coastal towns of South America. Rogers would be the expedition leader.

The project was big, exciting! A fleet of twenty warships-including one with eighty guns-forty cargo ships, five hospital ships, four thousand soldiers. Juan Fernandez would become a supply depot. Selkirk knew the island best. Would he help set up the colony? The South Seas Company had already spent 120,000, and the Secretary of State, Henry St. John, had pledged even more government money. Investors were pouring in additional funds. Even Queen Anne was interested.

Weeks later, Rogers again met with Selkirk. His news was disappointing. Funds from the government were not coming-no, he didn't know why, no one did. It was a huge scandal. Thousands of investors had lost money. The South Seas Company was bankrupt. There would be no ships, no soldiers, no supply depot on Juan Fernandez. Queen Anne and all those high government officials refused to say what had happened.

For Selkirk, any hope he might have had of returning to his island home was now gone.

Rogers also introduced Selkirk to Richard Steele, a journalist who had helped Rogers write his book. After hearing about Selkirk and reading Rogers's book, Steele wanted to tell the castaway's story on Juan Fernandez for his magazine, The Englishman.

"I had the pleasure frequently to converse with the man soon after his arrival in England in the year 1711. It was a matter of great curiosity to hear him, as he is a man of good sense, give an account of ... that long solitude."

Steele was a member of Parliament, heavyset and limping with gout. He and Selkirk met in coffeehouses. Soon Steele saw that the former castaway seemed uneasy with his new life in London.

"[He] frequently bewailed his return to the world," Steele wrote, "which could not ... with all its enjoyments, restore him to the tranquility of his solitude" on his island.

"I am now worth 800 pounds," the despondent mariner told him, "but shall never be so happy as when I was not worth a farthing."

On that far-off island, Steele wrote, Selkirk's "life grew so exquisitely pleasant that he never had a moment heavy upon his hands. His nights were untroubled and his days joyous from the practice of temperance and exercise.... His life was one continual feast."

Selkirk's story took up the entire December 13, 1713, issue of The Englishman.

Watching the glum mariner sip coffee, Steele realized what troubled the former castaway: He yearned for his island home.

Wearing a handsome blue waistcoat with white cuffs and lapels

and a c.o.c.ked hat, the new lieutenant boarded his ship.