The Deadliest Enemy (I)

The award-winning cover of the book “Relação da Primeira Viagem em Torno do Mundo — António Pigafetta”, translated by Joana Lima, represents the number of crew members sailed and returned after Magellan’s voyage.

At first glance, one can be shocked by great number of people who perished during the voyage. However, knowing the conditions onboard during oceanic navigation, I’m surprised that even 18 people managed to come back. And I’m not thinking about the dangers of navigating unknown oceans or fighting in mysterious lands, I’m talking about the worst enemy of the age of discoveries: scurvy.

Scurvy, a disease caused by a serious ascorbic acid (vitamin C) deficiency, killed more sailors than the combination of other diseases, piracy, war, and shipwrecks. For centuries, it has scourged fleets from every country, influencing the course of history. Given the impossibility of preserving fresh food for more than a few weeks, eating fruits and vegetables was a rare event on ships, only possible when disembarking for refuel. Together with the poor diet that characterized the poorest segment of the population, from which many sailors came, this meant that early symptoms of scurvy manifested themselves in the crew within just a few weeks from departure. One of the first symptoms is weakness, so that many crew members started to find working very hard. They were therefore accused of being lazy and punished accordingly.

In a short time, tiredness and sore arms and legs gave way to more severe symptoms like bleeding gums, loosened teeth, bleeding from the skin, change in personality. For a long time, many cures were tried, like vitriol, vinegar and seawater, that were useless or even made the disease worse.

Page from the journal of Henry Walsh Mahon showing the effects of scurvy, from his time aboard HM Convict Ship Barrosa (1841/2)

The scarce hygiene largely contributed to exacerbate the situation, favouring infections, and further degrading the health and quality of life of travellers.

Surprisingly, knowledge of how to prevent and cure scurvy has been present in different times and places, but it was largely ignored for a long time… TBC! [Silvana Munzi]

Daybook of (part of) the RUTTER Crew in Oxford

In April, we had the opportunity to visit Oxford and take part in the postgraduate conference organized by the British Society for the History of Science. Our panel focused on navigation, and we were there to present the individual research projects we have been working on with RUTTER. The conference showcased exceptional presentations of high quality, and the atmosphere was incredibly welcoming, while maintaining a strong emphasis on academic rigour.

During our leisure time, we received a recommendation to explore the charming city of Oxford, a suggestion that we eagerly embraced! It is a city that captivates with its beauty, and every corner reveals a rich history encapsulated by its walls and imponent buildings. Accompanied by local students, we had the privilege of visiting several colleges, where they regaled us with fascinating tales about the city and vividly depicted the vibrant academic atmosphere that permeates this place.

Merton College, Oxford

While walking from Christ Church College to Merton College, we heard an interesting story. As many know, there is an ongoing debate about which college holds the title of “oldest” in Oxford. Merton and Balliol are two contenders in this competition. Merton College puts forth a compelling argument by pointing out that it incorporates one of the ancient city walls of Oxford. This suggests that in the event of an attack on Oxford, Merton students would be called upon to defend the wall. Of course, it's not expected for Merton students, who come to study, to assume the role of soldiers. However, this tradition has endured, meaning that theoretically, Merton students would be tasked with its defence if the wall were under threat. A few years ago, during a snowy day, a student from Balliol initiated an amusing incident by launching snowballs at Merton's wall. In response, Merton students had no choice but to defend the wall, resulting in a lively snowball fight with historical implications.

Through these and other stories, we had the opportunity to acquaint ourselves with the various colleges, libraries, and museums. It provided us with valuable insights into a culture that deeply appreciates history, tradition, and a commitment to academic excellence. [Carmo Lacerda & Inês Bénard]

Life is a Voyage

Life is a voyage. From Homer and Virgil to Dante and Cervantes, could one think of a more timeless metaphore in Western culture? Traced by joy and pain, the route from birth to death, such different places, is not without risk of transforming someone along the way. The unsafety and the uncertainty of travelling from one space to another – a movement of growth, gaining knowledge, and being saved in the end if following the correct path – are at the core of every voyage. A classic, given the verisimilitude of its representation of human life, this literary trope can be found in the opening lines of Ioannes Princeps Tragoedia (1558), by Portuguese Neo-Latin writer Diogo de Teive (c. 1514-1565):

“As the small boat, in the fury of the sea, is a toy of the cruel Notus and, because of huge waves, is unable to maintain the rhumb, a weak spirit wounded by pain is agitated in distressing worries, no rest is offered to the insecure heart, and no consolation receives the saddened soul.”

Foreshadowing the death of João Manuel, Prince of Portugal (1537-1554) – the last surviving son of King John III’s nine children, deceased at 16 years old, right before the birth of his only child, the future King Sebastian of Portugal (1554-1578) –, this comparison of the human suffering to a rudderless vessel portrays how a feeling of being adrift may have existed in the Portuguese court during the second half of the sixteenth century. There seems to be a fear that the life of the kingdom is in danger of losing its course by being engulfed in a succession crisis.

Painting of João Manuel, Prince hereditary of Portugal, by the workshop of Anthonis Mor (1552)

Besides the political problem, this comparison conveys something intriguing. In a time when Portuguese literature is laced with nautical rhetoric, this tragedy is not. In a neoclassical fashion, Teive uses the Greek mythical Notus – god of the Sirocco wind causing storms and sinkings in the Mediterranean Sea – to describe a maritime voyage where there are no instruments and techniques that could help the boat maintain its rhumb. The fragility of the hereditary prince’s lifeline is not only depicted by the comparison but also by the absence of science and technology in this symbolic route. Portuguese Early Modern playwriters often used the image of astrolabes and magnetic needles to portray the human ability to overcome tribulations and to accomplish a path. Unlike a planned oceanic voyage, guided by instruments and regiments that help find the vessel’s way when lost, there is no safe and successful arrival to the destination in the life of João Manuel – to be the King of Portugal. His route came to no salvation in the end. [Joana Lima]

“Ipse dixit”: The Experienced Pilot

“¿Qué ruta podrán llevar más acertada que por donde guio tan experimentado piloto?
(“What route could be more certain than the one led by such an experienced pilot?)”

This quotation comes from the Spanish book Diálogo sobre la necesidad y obligación y provecho de la oración y divinos loores vocales (Dialogue on the need, duty and benefit of vocal prayer and praises), authored by Fray Juan de la Cruz (Saint John of the Cross), and published in Salamanca in 1555. While the sentence may initially evoke imagery of maritime routes, its meaning in context differs significantly, as it is part of a broader discourse on seeking spiritual perfection.

The metaphorical essence of the sentence is intriguing, as it employs specific nautical imagery, such as guiding a ship and tracing a route. These associations prove how encounters with the sea were normalized and integrated into various aspects of life, even in unexpected contexts. The author employs the experience of a pilot as an effective means to describe the actions of God in relation to human life, implying a long and arduous journey towards perfection.

Throughout the centuries in which society lived immersed in a reality where the human and the divine, the visible and the invisible, blended seamlessly, oceanic long-distance voyages became embedded in everyday language and permeated European culture. Within this framework, I wanted to draw attention to the indirect testimonies of oceanic pilots, or at least their end applications.

Texts from the 16th century, spanning various genres, abound with expressions related to experienced Iberian pilots. The Jesuit Father José de Acosta, for instance, referred to them as “masters of art” and engaged in fruitful conversations with them. Furthermore, Father Acosta sought to understand the technical aspects of navigation and devoted a substantial portion of his book, Historia natural y moral de las Indias (Sevilla, 1590), to discussing the variation of the needle. He based his explanations on insights provided by an anonymous but highly skilled Portuguese pilot. Similar assertions are given also by the cosmographer Andrés de Céspedes in his Regimiento de navegación (Madrid: 1606) regarding terrestrial magnetism and the northeasting of the needles. His primary sources were pilots, especially the renowned pilot major Vicente Rodrigues. In Céspedes’ words:

“Vicente Rodrigues, a Portuguese pilot who excelled in the India Run and had made fourteen voyages to the Portuguese India, told me that from the moment they passed the Cape of Good Hope until they reached Goa, the compass needle always northeasted with increasing angles. And this is what all the other pilots say.”

While there is no factual confirmation of the specific conversations Father Acosta had with pilots, these affirmations acknowledge, on a deeper level, the commonly accepted reputation of pilots as reliable eyewitnesses. Whether considered as myth, a literary trope, or not, it is likely that many of the keys to the treasure chest of oceanic knowledge were transmitted through informal and unwritten channels. Returning to the initial excerpt, the parallelism between the maritime journey, the spiritual path, and the turbulent waters of life may not have been a novelty, yet the metaphorical power of the skilled pilot’s voyage grew increasingly profound with each passing decade of navigating the vast oceans. [Luana Giurgevich]