Jo'Burg Days: The Discovery Of The Sea Route To India
Barbara Durlacher, inspired by a mural depicting the arrival of the first white men in Africa, painted by one of her friends on a wall of the Cullin Museum at the University of Witwatersrand, is moved to express her admiration of the brave mariners who discovered the sea route to India.
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Some time ago, a friend was commissioned to paint a large mural on the third wall of the Cullin Museum at the University of the Witwatersrand. He based his theme for the painting – which I consider quite brilliant – on the long poem by the 14th Century Portuguese poet, Camões, about the giant, Adamastor, who lived ‘behind the South wind’ and who my painter friend depicted as a brooding spirit, towering over Table Mountain.
The theme of the painting is the arrival of the first white men on the shores of Africa and the wonderment and surprise of the indigenous peoples on first seeing these ‘gods from the sea’. The new arrivals have strange bird faces [the antique metal helmets and breastplates of the time] and the bellying canvas sails turn the ships into white swans riding gently at rest on the water. It is a marvellously imaginative interpretation of what those naïve and unsophisticated people must have made of these strange invaders of their peaceful land.
Subsequent to the creation of this mural, I visited the National Maritime Museum at Cape Town’s famous V & A Waterfront. Somewhere near the entrance, I glimpsed an unpretentious little oil with a very different interpretation of the first white men landing on the shores of Table Bay. This picture shows a simple wooden rowboat beaching on the sand and the wondering men stepping gingerly ashore onto this strange and distant land.
Suddenly in my imagination, I was transported to what it must have been like for those brave men, and I tried to grasp this adventure into the unknown. I imagined them setting off from Portugal and sailing past the Belem Tower at the entrance to Lisbon Harbour on their way to the Far East. I wondered how many of them prayed that they would return to see this symbol of their country’s dominance of European waters. I thought of that small handful of adventurers as they set their course to catch the first breath of wind from the Atlantic, and then I tried to imagine their feelings as the sails of their tiny caravels bellied and the prows dipped into the waves.
Once the King had given his permission and the long months of preparation were over, they would have faced the reality of what they had undertaken. Now, emotions were close to the surface, and the poignant leave-takings were vivid in their memories. Would they ever see their dear ones again? Probably these thoughts crowded out worries about creditors and property dispositions; these would settle themselves if they never returned.
But, their strongest emotion must have been FEAR. Fear of the long voyage ahead; of unknown seas; the changeable weather, and the unseaworthiness of their vessels. How many times did they wonder if they would ever return, and if they came back, what their homecoming would be like? Would their nearest and dearest still accept them? Would they be welcomed back into the warmth and closeness of the family, or would they be ostracised, detested and feared as high-risk emotional investments? For, if they returned after a successful voyage, there was a chance they might sail again at any time, leaving those at home to cope as best they could, and life was tough in those days.
They were probably scared, thinking of the long months it had taken to raise the finance to provision and outfit their small vessels, and the sums due to money-lenders on their return, successful or not. Scared of the unknown as they breasted the waves and turned due south to the deep water beyond the horizon, where the maps said “Here Be Dragons” and “Terra Incognita”, and scared of the known dangers of lack of fresh water and food, storms, mutiny at sea, and death in deep waters.
They were sailing into the unknown on their first voyage of discovery, to find the Sea Route to India, and the riches and splendours of the fabled East. Sailing to grab the riches of the Spice Trade from the Venetians who had dominated the land route from China and the Indies for two centuries, bringing silks and spices to the markets of France and Italy, and who grew fabulously rich in the process. They were sailing, despite being filled with these fears and uncertainties, these valiant men, prepared to brave all known and unknown dangers. Their vessels were tiny, around 178 tons, and 27metres long: clumsy and difficult to handle.
Until the invention of the swinging boom, ships’ rigging was fixed, making fast changes and delicate manoeuvres impossible. Ships could only sail downwind. Prudent ship’s captains kept within sight of the shore, as they could not rely on their primitive navigation instruments to accurately pinpoint their position in miles of empty ocean. Whatever they might encounter on their voyage, whether it was finding the legendary Prester John, or the Sea Route to India, their progress lay at the mercy of the wind and tides. All they could hope for was that they would survive the outward and return voyages, arriving back in Portugal with holds filled with silks and spices.
It must have been one of the most agonising voyages of discovery ever. How did they know that they would not sail over the edge of the world and never return to their homes and families and how did they know what lay waiting for them far, far over the sea?
In its way, this voyage must have been the 15th Century equivalent of putting a man on the moon; just as frightening and epoch-making and certainly, with the discovery of the land that came to be called South Africa, one which had unimaginable consequences for the then, and future inhabitants, of the continent.
