Artist's impression of the Sao Joao wreck |
Before the anniversary of the loss of the Waratah, my
thoughts were with another, much earlier ship, the Sao Joao, the Great Galleon,
wrecked in the vicinity of what is now Port Edward an entire century before the
arrival of Van Riebeeck at the Cape . (Think
about that for a moment.) It was almost exactly a year since my previous visit
to this stretch of the coast south of Natal
and in the interim it had lost nothing of its mysterious charm.
I sat on a high point looking
out over the coastal forest lands below towards the Indian
Ocean , on a bright sunny day two shades of deep blue fringed at
the land’s edge by white lacy foam. Beneath that foam lurks the malevolent
rocky reef on which the Sao Joao foundered. The beach upon which those who
survived landed was empty, stark and unfriendly. Those Portuguese mariners were
indeed between the devil and the deep blue sea.
The shells on this beach are pounded to fine fragments by
their passage through the rocks; few, perhaps the tiniest, reach the shore
whole. Miraculous, then, that porcelain pieces survive at all, having gone
through the devil’s cauldron of surf and jagged granite. Yet they continue to be found, five centuries after the
ships and the men who sailed them were cast up as offerings to Neptune .
Fernando Pessoa cries:
‘Oh Salty sea, how much of your salt
Are tears of Portugal !’
The litany of Portuguese ships lost along these south
eastern shores justifies the poet’s grief: Sao Joao 1552; Sao Bento 1554, Sao
Thome 1589, Santo Alberto 1593, Sao Joao Baptista 1622, Sao Goncalo 1630, Nossa
Senhore de Belem 1635 and Nossa Senhore de Atalaia do Piheiro 1647.
Approximately 500 souls are believed to have reached the
shore after the Sao Joao was wrecked; injuries from the maelstrom through which
they fought for life must have been severe. Were they more fortunate than those
who drowned? Probably not, because ahead of them lay a walk of hundreds of
miles north to Delagoa Bay during which most succumbed to exposure, heat,
exhaustion, thirst and starvation. They were subjected to attacks by wild
animals and encounters with indigenous tribes. The latter were not always
confrontational but they were curious and keen to acquire the strangers’
possessions. Stripped of her clothing, Dona Leonor, the finely-bred Castilian wife
of the captain, Manoel de Sousa Sepulvedo, chose death before dishonour,
burying herself alive in the sand. Her husband buried their two dead children
and, a broken man, walked into the bush never to be seen again.
Why attempt to reach Delagoa Bay ?
The initial plan was to build a small caravel on the beach to send to Sofala
for help, but there were insufficient usable timbers from the wreck for this
purpose. Table Bay , equally far off, held
memories of d’Almeida and fifty of his men killed by Hottentots in 1510. Delagoa Bay was chosen as a known stopping point for
Portuguese ships for water and trade.
They kept as close to the coast as possible, to make use of
mussels and other such foods, but the coastal bush frequently forced them
inland, as did the need for fresh water. They crossed rivers and estuaries, ran
the gauntlet of snakes and beasts, and as they neared the tropics the sun grew
hotter.
The account of the boatswain’s mate reveals that it took
them three months to reach Delagoa Bay , at a
rate of about 4.2 miles per day. Only 22 of the original 500 survived – 8
Portuguese and 14 slaves, the latter presumably being experienced in survival
against all odds.