Columbus_ The Four Voyages - Laurence Bergreen [194]
Columbus approached him, kissed him on both cheeks, and declared, “I knew very well that nobody here except you would dare to undertake this mission.” That was how Méndez chose to remember the event; more likely, Columbus chose that moment to assign twelve or fourteen men to the rescue mission. They would occupy two canoes in all, one under the command of Diego Méndez, and the other under the command of Bartolomeo Fieschi, the Admiral’s comrade from Genoa.
Méndez set about readying the fragile craft that would carry them to rescue or disaster. He affixed false keels to the canoe for stability in the open water, covered the hull with pitch and grease, and “nailed some boards to the prow and stern to prevent water from coming in, which it might, owing to the low freeboard”—the narrow portion of the hull above the waterline. Other modifications included the addition of a simple mast and sail, and stores. Each canoe would carry six Spaniards, in addition to several Indian paddlers. They would cover approximately 124 miles.
After bidding farewell to the Admiral and putting to sea, Méndez reached the easternmost end of Jamaica. Lingering at the cape, waiting for a calm sea before commencing the crossing to Hispaniola, Méndez saw that Indians had assembled “with the intention of killing me and taking my canoe and its contents.” They even “drew lots for my life” to decide who would carry out the deed. He and his men quietly reclaimed their canoes, beached several miles away, raised sail, and returned to Dry Harbour, where Columbus was stationed.
Relieved that Méndez and his men had escaped slaughter, the Admiral sent them all back to the cape, accompanied by seventy men under the direction of the Adelantado. The squadron waited four days for favorable seas. “When I saw the seas growing calm I very sadly took leave of my escorts and they of me,” Méndez recalled.
Ferdinand remembered watching the Indians deftly settling into the canoes with gourds of water and “native food” as the brave Spaniards took their places, carrying “swords, shields, and foods.” They launched into the sea, Bartholomew escorting them to the island’s eastern end to ward off Indian attacks. None materialized. The Adelantado waited until dark as the canoes became specks on the horizon. When they had vanished, he walked back to his men, “urging the Indians he encountered on the way to be friends and trade with us.”
The men in the canoes commenced paddling for five days and four nights. Méndez recalled “never taking my hand off the oar and steering the canoe while all my companions rowed.” They were rowing for their lives, and those of the men they left behind with Columbus. For the last two days of this marathon, with their stores of food and drink exhausted, the men aboard the canoes neither ate nor drank.
On arrival in Hispaniola, Méndez was to move on to Santo Domingo, the tiny capital, to beseech Ovando for help, and Fieschi was to return to Jamaica forthwith “to spare us worry that and fear that he might have perished.” As Ferdinand knew, “this could easily happen with such flimsy craft if the sea turned at all rough.” In fact, they were setting off on a journey of great hardship.
The two canoes proceeded eastward along the coast, the Indians diligently paddling, encountering “only little islands or rocks along the whole course.” The final leg from that island to Hispaniola, eight leagues of open water, proved to be the most uncertain. “They had to wait for a perfect calm before starting to cross that great space in such frail craft.” As if by divine will, the sea turned to glass for them.
After the rescue mission had departed, those left behind languished in their improvised fortresses in Jamaica. In the enforced idleness, morale deteriorated at an alarming rate; the men, barely loyal to Columbus at the voyage’s outset, complained and conspired. They wove elaborate