The Indian Ocean - Michael Pearson [140]
then the Hindus on board, of the Bangassali brahman caste, approached me saying that I must not be discouraged and should hope to overcome the peril, as they would soon attain the desired calm by performing a ritual to their Rama. And, having said that, one of them drew out from his pannier a metal idol, the image of Rama, a hand-bell and two cymbals of the same metal, and took all that to the prow of the ship, where he was joined by the rest of the Hindus, dressed in clean clothes, and after singing, playing music and dancing before the idol, they covered themselves with some red scented powder called sindhur. Soon thereafter they went in procession around the ship, singing songs to the beat of the cymbals and distributing fragrant ointments, biscuits, sweets, coconuts and sugar to everyone present; at the end of the procession they threw a coconut into the sea, against the wind, and carried on singing and dancing into the night. However, as far as I could see, their prayers and processions served no other purpose than to pass the day cheerfully, because the storm did not abate and the Muslims began to laugh at the Hindus. No idol has ever countered the works of the devil nor has the latter raised a storm that destroyed an idol.
Godinho had a bad time with the Hindus, as they revered all life, and so deloused themselves and threw the lice on his bedding, for they refused to kill them. They also offered to ransom a cow which was due to be slaughtered for food on board, but it died anyway.
When they got near the entrance to the Gulf they hit another storm, and the ship was in grave danger:
The ship bobbed in and out of the water, like a buoy at the mercy of the winds and the waves which were leading it towards the Persian rocks. The clamour from the women, crying by the children, shouts from the sailors, confusion among the officers, fury of the winds, raging of the waves, flashing of thunderbolts, pitch darkness of the night, crashing of thunder, recurrence of lightning, breaking of the seas, whistling of the rigging, and finally the fear of death in all, were such as anyone who has been through such a misfortune will realise.... I recited the Sub tuum praesidium [We fly to thy patronage, that is of the Virgin] from the time the storm began. On seeing that it still persisted, the French cleric approached me, more dead than alive, and both of us, on our knees, made several vows to the entire heavenly court, as any single saint alone appeared less reassuring in that sort of danger. Then, addressing ourselves to God, we reminded him of the honour of his holy name which was being blasphemed by those infidels, the Muslims saying that it was a punishment meted out by God and his false prophet because the nakhuda had obliged me by not going to Muscat [Godinho had bribed him to sail past Muscat, but most of the Muslim merchants on board wanted to call there], disappointing his own co-religionists. The Hindus attributed the storm to the death of their cow, but also joined the Muslims in reviling the Christians. And, lo and behold, hardly had we completed the said reminder to God, when all of a sudden the wind changed direction from south to north, and from stormy it turned to mild. The waves then propelled the tired ship to this other side of Arabia, and it moved quite fast over the waters because a lot of cargo was being jettisoned. God is so zealous of his holy name that this is not the first time he has refrained from punishing sinners in order not to discredit it amongst infidels....
Then they were trying to get around a cape at the entrance to the Gulf.
Around midday, on that day, a tiny ship, seven spans long and two in width, came alongside the deck. It resembled our ship in every detail, from the shape of its hull down to the sails, rigging, flag and everything else. Soon a sailor sounded the kettle drums and the ship's master blew his whistle and everyone on board, both Hindus and Muslims, got together,