over.
CHAPTER 13
Tuesday, March 24, 1526
We are ready to attempt the Estrecho de Magallanes again. The ships have all been repaired and are again seaworthy. Unfortunately, I cannot report the same of our poultry. We have but one rooster and one hen to share for the whole fleet. I offered the commander of the caravel Santa Maria del Parral a very good trade for these, but he refused me. I guess my men will go without eggs. We have been lucky, though, to find a good supply of the sweet potato that grows in these parts. Some of the men come from farming families and believe they could cultivate this species on board and back home in Spain. I have given them permission to establish a small nursery on the foredeck, for I admit that I would be happy to devour the mellow creamy-white flesh of this vegetable every day. While in the river’s safe harbour, we have watched the natives cooking their food in earth ovens and have practiced the same method. The result is a flavourful feast fit for kings. We will all be sorry to return to boiled food.
Our respite here, although we were busied with repairs to the San Lesmes, has served as a good opportunity for the men to lift their spirits and regain their strength. I am pleased to depart on our new attempt of the straits with a strong and happy crew.
Wednesday, May 26, 1526
We have reached the Mar Pacifico. I cannot put into words my joy of having made it through the straits alive. It is the day of St. Alifonso and the eve of Trinity. Our journey to the Moluccas continues with new hope.
We are riding on a south-east wind. It is extremely cold. There was much ice to be seen in the straits and looking south. The winds are carrying this cold to us. The beauty of the region leaves me awed. Daily we have been greeted with views of glaciers and snow-covered mountains. I doubt that many could survive in these climes but every man should be blessed with this scenery once within their lifetime. Sadly, we now draw further away from the coast and will not see land again for some weeks.
CHAPTER 14
Sunlight streamed into the window and bathed Matt in its warmth. He pulled himself out of bed and shuffled over to the window, barely alert at all. He was greeted with Warren’s beautiful view of Campbell’s Bay and beyond it, the broad conical form of Rangitoto, the volcanic island whose history Warren had explained the night before. Matt was impressed to learn that Auckland was built on about fifty volcanoes, and that a new volcano could appear at any time. Surely there are more logical places to build your city, he mused, awed by the spectacle. Deciding to leave the curtain open and not to crawl back under the covers, Matt instead went into the ensuite adjacent to his room and showered before breakfast.
Warren had left Matt a note telling him to help himself to eggs, bread and whatever else he needed. He had explained to Matt the night before that he needed to go in to see his editor about a story he was working on. He would be gone all day. While Matt ate his breakfast of toast smeared with a particularly good honey, he flicked through the pages of the magazine that Warren was freelancing for, Observer . It was clear that the magazine specialised in investigative pieces. The sort of articles that might spark a controversy, or at least challenge the status quo. A good fit for Warren. Matt chose an article about a shampoo product and read about the nasty ingredients as he finished up his breakfast.
After putting his dishes in the dishwasher, Matt grabbed the car keys that Warren had left for him and collected the cordless phone from its cradle. Before diving into his uncomfortable mission to visit his father, he would call Julia to get her to do some research on the mirror at the university museum. As he dialled the number, he considered the 13 hour lead he had on her and hoped she would still be up and not mind the distraction from the
CHAPTER 13
Tuesday, March 24, 1526
We are ready to attempt the Estrecho de Magallanes again. The ships have all been repaired and are again seaworthy. Unfortunately, I cannot report the same of our poultry. We have but one rooster and one hen to share for the whole fleet. I offered the commander of the caravel Santa Maria del Parral a very good trade for these, but he refused me. I guess my men will go without eggs. We have been lucky, though, to find a good supply of the sweet potato that grows in these parts. Some of the men come from farming families and believe they could cultivate this species on board and back home in Spain. I have given them permission to establish a small nursery on the foredeck, for I admit that I would be happy to devour the mellow creamy-white flesh of this vegetable every day. While in the river’s safe harbour, we have watched the natives cooking their food in earth ovens and have practiced the same method. The result is a flavourful feast fit for kings. We will all be sorry to return to boiled food.
Our respite here, although we were busied with repairs to the San Lesmes, has served as a good opportunity for the men to lift their spirits and regain their strength. I am pleased to depart on our new attempt of the straits with a strong and happy crew.
Wednesday, May 26, 1526
We have reached the Mar Pacifico. I cannot put into words my joy of having made it through the straits alive. It is the day of St. Alifonso and the eve of Trinity. Our journey to the Moluccas continues with new hope.
We are riding on a south-east wind. It is extremely cold. There was much ice to be seen in the straits and looking south. The winds are carrying this cold to us. The beauty of the region leaves me awed. Daily we have been greeted with views of glaciers and snow-covered mountains. I doubt that many could survive in these climes but every man should be blessed with this scenery once within their lifetime. Sadly, we now draw further away from the coast and will not see land again for some weeks.
CHAPTER 14
Sunlight streamed into the window and bathed Matt in its warmth. He pulled himself out of bed and shuffled over to the window, barely alert at all. He was greeted with Warren’s beautiful view of Campbell’s Bay and beyond it, the broad conical form of Rangitoto, the volcanic island whose history Warren had explained the night before. Matt was impressed to learn that Auckland was built on about fifty volcanoes, and that a new volcano could appear at any time. Surely there are more logical places to build your city, he mused, awed by the spectacle. Deciding to leave the curtain open and not to crawl back under the covers, Matt instead went into the ensuite adjacent to his room and showered before breakfast.
Warren had left Matt a note telling him to help himself to eggs, bread and whatever else he needed. He had explained to Matt the night before that he needed to go in to see his editor about a story he was working on. He would be gone all day. While Matt ate his breakfast of toast smeared with a particularly good honey, he flicked through the pages of the magazine that Warren was freelancing for, Observer . It was clear that the magazine specialised in investigative pieces. The sort of articles that might spark a controversy, or at least challenge the status quo. A good fit for Warren. Matt chose an article about a shampoo product and read about the nasty ingredients as he finished up his breakfast.
After putting his dishes in the dishwasher, Matt grabbed the car keys that Warren had left for him and collected the cordless phone from its cradle. Before diving into his uncomfortable mission to visit his father, he would call Julia to get her to do some research on the mirror at the university museum. As he dialled the number, he considered the 13 hour lead he had on her and hoped she would still be up and not mind the distraction from the
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