J.O. Dickingson

Travels with Nicolau Ribeiro

Book II

Prologue

Spoiler Alert: The following reveals key events in the twenty-seven chapters of Book I

I am called Nicolau Ribeiro, though for the past year and a half I have gone by the name Naqi Ah ibn-Mustafa and many have been the days when I have thought I am the latter and the former no longer lives. I was born in the Portuguese port and trading centre of Viano do Costela on April 14th in the year of our Lord one thousand four hundred and seventy-six, the first son of João Ribeiro and the second oldest child of five. A month after my fourteenth birthday, much to my delight, and I am ashamed to confess full of arrogant pride, I left school and travelled with my father and my mother's brother, Uncle Paolo, up the Kongo River, Father and Uncle being renown and daring merchant sailors. We followed the route taken by our illustrious countryman Diogo Cao who had discovered the river only eight years earlier, in search of new goods and the fabled land of Prester John. I quickly discovered being a sailor involves much hard work, even more so when you are the son of the captain for everyone expects that much more of you and a father's expectations are higher than they are for the sons of others, as it should be. The voyage, however, also affirmed my love of the sea and of the life of a sailor.

I also discovered why Uncle speaks with such passion of his travels. There is nothing more exciting than travelling to new lands, and what you learn from meeting people of different customs you can never learn from books or schoolmasters as these tales shall reveal. Travel into unknown lands is also most dangerous, good reader, and fulled with surprises, both good and bad, as I shall also reveal. Upon encountering the black heathens of the upper reaches of the river, the Bakongo, I was greatly shocked to see the women walking brazenly about bare-breasted and the young, male and female alike, going about as naked as they were born without an ounce of shame. As a fourteen-year-old innocent I found it difficult to avert my gaze with such temptation flaunted before my eyes. Even more shocking, on our first night with these heathens, Father, Uncle and I were provided young girls to bring us pleasures of the flesh, and when we declined as graciously as we could, finding the provision most vulgar and offensive as any Christian with proper upbringing would, much to my surprise we were offered young boys in their place, and were informed by our interpreter that to decline would be insulting to our hosts, and would perhaps even result in our deaths!

In my innocence I thought the six-year-old boy sent to accompany me would play the role of a servant, but much to my surprise and consternation, he assumed the role, most willingly, of a bed partner and introduced me to the obscene and hitherto unknown pleasures of the flesh that can be engaged in between two boys, something which I engaged in most unwillingly and only because I feared for my life, and which I shamefully confess, I eagerly participated in before the night was over so great is Satan's temptation. Although in darkness and in separate rooms, from the sounds in the night the two ten-year-old boys assigned to Father and Uncle did likewise and I could only imagine their revulsion and disgust being forced to engage in such wicked practice.

Upon our return to Portugal, Father and Uncle reported our discoveries to King João, at least those that decent men would reveal, neither Father, Uncle nor I having mentioned even to each other those hot, sweaty nights in the jungles of the dark continent succumbing to Satan's perverted temptations, and they requested financing for further trade explorations. While the king deliberated, I was introduced to horseback riding, a most uncomfortable and terrifying experience that convinced me man was not meant to ride beasts more suited to pulling wagons, and was questioned by the king's recently married fifteen-year-old son, Prince Afonso, about the black heathens of Africa and rumours regarding their nakedness, which I confirmed were not rumours. Our discussion of such lewd behaviour stirred unhealthy desires in my loins, and his, which led to the two of us and his bastard nine-year-old brother Jorge engaging in prohibited intimacies condemned by all I knew, and then the Prince and his Castilian valet and I indulging in further carnal pleasures with the two prepubescent sons of a local fisherman.

I was much surprised, and I again shamefully confess, aroused by the revelation that brothers would engage in this cardinal sin with each other and in the presence of each other. I was also sorely frightened knowing that the power of Satan was such that nobles and peasants alike could fall into his perverse temptations despite their strong Christian upbringing, and I prayed fervently for forgiveness and redemption, for myself and for my Prince whom I otherwise found to be an upstanding model for all Portuguese to follow. That I found much pleasure in these carnal exploits caused me much guilt and many sleepless nights despite my Prince's justification that sex between a man and a boy was for pleasure whereas sex between a husband and a wife was a duty and so there was nothing wrong with a man engaging in both, something which I was sure Father Francisco would strongly disagree with.

Receiving a commission to pick up spices at Cairo and to secretly check out the possibility of a trade route to the Red Sea and to discretely inquire into the fate of two envoys our king had sent to the area earlier, Father and Uncle began making arrangements and I accompanied Prince Afonso and his wife of four months, Isabella, to Madrid on a show of faith and support to her parents, and so Afonso could spy out their plans for exploration. On the way I sensed a great hostility to Afonso, an unthinkable behaviour for any loyal and decent Portugese citizen, and I witnessed first hand the horror and brutality of the Spanish inquisition, witnessing the torture of Marranos, Jews falsely professing to be Catholic, and the burning at the stake of Moors, vile peoples who are said to have introduced sodomy to Spain and who have been, praise the Lord, expelled from Portugal some two hundred years now. In one instance I witnessed an inquisitor force a son to have carnal knowledge with his father, a scene so vile it sickened me to my stomach and brought the taste of bile to my mouth. I was most glad to leave such hostile and savage peoples who have no right to claim themselves civilized. On our way back to Lisbon, I, Ahmar (a young Berber thief with whom in my mortal weakness I had engaged in carnal sin not just once but several times) and the Moor Mustafa thwarted an assassination attempt on Prince Afonso, for which we were greatly rewarded by King João.

And so we embarked on our mission. En route across the Great Sea, a storm drove our ship to the Berber coast of northern Africa where while our ship was being repaired I learned much about the life and customs of the Berber people and, I shamefully confess, the techniques of making love between males, and succumbing to these carnal pleasures, I found myself, much to my surprise and shame, falling in love with the fourteen-year-old thief, Ahmar and falling further into the diabolical clutches of Lucifer.

With the repair of our ship, we continued on to Rome to seek financial support and blessing of our mission. Feeling great guilt over engaging in carnal relations with others of my gender, I was most shocked and most confused to learn that Moors and Jews given as slaves to Pope Innocent VIII to Christianize were in turn given to select cardinals and favourites to convert, or more commonly, to sodomize! Adding further to my confusion was the discovery that a highly respected Cardinal, Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, a strong candidate to become our next Pope, Pope Innocent clearly being of ill health, sought the pleasure of both women and members of his Swiss Guard. Even more bewildering was the discovery that a choirboy from our hometown had become a castrati to preserve his singing voice. The thought of one willingly having his testicles cut off caused my own to draw up into my body for protection.

Continuing on to Pisa, I intended on meeting with Cardinal Giovanni de Lorenzo de'Medici to discuss my confusion and doubts regarding my Christian faith and to confess my sexual transgressions and sins, figuring being fourteen years of age himself, he would have an understanding of my troubled mental and spiritual state and would be able to help me understand how I could find such immense pleasure in such a despicable, obscene practice. To my utter surprise, the most venerable Cardinal instead gave me a very different interpretation of passages in the Bible regarding congress between males than that held by our local priest, Father Francisco, and even more surprising and confusing for a simple parishioner as I, we had congress with each other and then with his young scribes upon his urging and with the assurance it was perfectly acceptable in the Eyes of the Lord.

Continuing on to Florence, Father, Uncle and I attended a banquet hosted by the rich and powerful Lorenzo de'Medici where many of the artists, poets and philosophers for whom he was patron were in attendance. I sat in awe listening and conversing with such intelligent and renown personages, and a whole new life and way of looking at the world was opened up for me. I had never before heard of many of the topics discussed, including this conception they called platonic love though it was evidently something practised hundreds of years ago and was still commonly practised by civilized men. Just as surprising to me were the open and accepting attitudes in Florence regarding intimacies between men and between men and boys, and my sexual knowledge increased by leaps and bounds as I engaged in trysts with several of the artisans, including the famous Leonardo da Vinci who was only a year younger than Father and a young artisan, the arrogant and conceited and highly talented Michelangelo, who was only a year older than myself.

Travelling back to Rome quite bewildered and confused by these revelations by men much wiser and nobler than myself and experiences they took as common practice, I rejoined my new friends who further enlightened me on the joy of congress between those of the same gender and on the practices of members of the church elite, and who provided me another interpretation of the motives of Lorenzo the Magnificent of Florence for supporting the artisans and philosophers of his city, motives I would never have imagined in my innocence. While at the Vatican, I also met my first Ottoman, Prince Djem, had along with Father and Uncle an audience with Pope Innocent VIII, and attended a party in honour of Cesare Borja where I experienced my first drunk, and my first orgy. As we continued on our way, I struggled greatly with my conscience and with the conflict between what I had been taught for the past fourteen years about congress between males and what I had recently been told, and what I had witnessed and experienced with both peasants and nobility, and with both commoners and the church elite. I began having erotic dreams and leaking my seed at night and waking up to morning erections on a daily basis which caused me more anxiety, and the adults I turned to for advice, the Jew shoemaker Josepe whom I had helped rescue in Castile, and the ship's doctor did little to bring me peace of mind.

Arriving at Cairo, we found King João's envoy, Pero da Covilha, and he and Father headed south to the Red Sea. While seeking information at the market, I was captured by a slave trader to replace an injured slave who had tried to escape, and taken to the Citadel where I was sold to the Sultan as a slave soldier-in-training. There I met a fellow captive who talked proudly of the honour of having sex with an adult as part of his training to be a Mameluke, adding further to my confusion regarding congress between males, something most considered a mortal sin while many others considered it quite common and acceptable and even honourable. Also while in the Citadel, I came to the defence of a young boy raped by an older soldier-in-training and I would likely have been raped myself but before the opportunity arose I was purchased by a man by the name of Usama el Hasan ibn Fuad, a twenty-eight-year-old Mameluke soldier serving as a guard to a merchant caravan, and taken on as an apprentice I ended up in a Mameluke soldier camp just outside Cairo.

So it was that I travelled with Usama across the Holy Land from Cairo to Aleppo, learning from him the use of arms, horsemanship (which I came to understand and appreciate), the tenets of Islam, and the code of the "men of arms" during the day, and how to make delightful love with a man at night. Learning of an advancing army from the north, we left the services of the caravan master and joined a Mameluke army heading to confront the invaders. Arriving at the Ottoman border I put my training in warfare to practice during the day and my training in man-boy love to practice with Usama at night, orally, anally and manually. I realized that I loved the man just as a man might love a woman, causing me much dismay and causing me to question why I had accepted this man-boy relationship despite all I had been taught against it.

Captured by the Ottoman Janissaries, I was taken to Istanbul where, after a meeting with Sultan Bayazid II, who was intrigued by my possession of a sword from the Order of Saint John of Jerusalem, an Order he was much impressed with and an Order I had been made a knight of by Pope Innocent, I became employed as a tellak boy in the Istanbul baths in the hope of earning enough money to pay for my passage back home, the prospect of returning home far outweighing the guilt and shame of being a tellak. As a beautiful and skilled bath boy, I became extremely popular with the customers, which brought new problems: the envy of other bath boys, physical attacks to try to disfigure or kill me, and the sexual assault by a distant member of the royal family. In my dejection and despair I rejected all gods, and accepted my sinfulness and the fact I was a weak and degenerate pervert caught in the web of Satan.

As a result of my ravishment by the royal client in the hammam, I was helped by one of the kinder patrons of the bathhouse to join a troupe of performers, the Ghilman Entertainers. Thinking they were heading west my hopes were raised, but I discovered too late they were heading east instead. And so I became a koçek, a young male dancer who looked like a girl and provided the sexual services of one, a position that was ironically highly revered by these heathens. I had never heard of boys who liked to dress as women, some of whom actually thought they were women and acted and talked just as they did. Much to my horror, as we continued across the steppes and deserts of these desolate lands, I realized that not only were there boys who acted like girls but I was starting to also, and enjoying it.

Travelling with the troupe, I learned much about music and dancing and about the peoples we came into contact with, both those of the Islamic faith and those of the Orthodox Eastern Church through whose lands we travelled. I also received advice about how to be happy. Eskander, the brother of the leader of the troupe who served as a guard and looked after the wagons and horses, said to be happy be yourself and do what you have a passion for. A shoemaker at Erzurum said to be proud of your skill and knowledge and to take care in what you do for it says who you are. And so it was that I came to accept myself and the desires that constantly welled up in my loins for I was skilled in bringing pleasure to others of my gender and many envied me for what I was and sought my pleasures in the dark of night. Of course not all did, and I suffered the abuse and jealousy that came with being a koçek as imams and Christian priests alike and their followers assailed us and despised us. Finally at Tabriz one of our group, beautiful, gentle Rifki who would never hurt a soul, had his throat cut because he was more successful in attracting men than the female belly dancers in the city who were responsible for his death.

Shortly after the brutal murder of Rifki, while engaged in bringing pleasure to an eighteen-year-old Prince from Samarkand, Prince Abbas, I thwarted an attempt on his life and he negotiated with the leader of our troupe for me to join him as his personal guard and comrade at arms. The night of that same day I helped him kidnap the eleven-year-old son of the Bey under an arrangement with the boy's father. It is the strange custom of these heathens that for a boy to become a man he had to be kidnapped by a man who then taught him the skills he needed to become a warrior, and made him a man by having congress with him. As we travelled east, the boy was trained in hunting and how to satisfy a man's sexual needs and I practised swordsmanship and horse riding, something which I had come to enjoy immensely, while wondering about fathers who encourage their sons to be ridden by men and those who would rather see them die, and wondering what I will decide when I have sons of my own.

I learned that there are things that Allah says, things that Imams say Allah says, and things Imams say; and that Princes can do what common men and even Imams cannot. There is a saying among these heathens that women are for breeding, boys for pleasure, and melons for sheer delight, and I saw the belief put into practice often, at least the first two. Prince Abba, my comrade at arms, visited male and female houses of prostitution with equal delight. And in my travels I learned of new and strange religions, Zoroastrianism and Buddhism, the followers of the former wild-eyed zealots who would kill a man for touching another man intimately and the followers of the latter seeing such intimacy as so insignificant as to not even mention it in their religious books. I learned of catamites who willingly engage in congress with men, catamites who are forced into submission, and boys who would rather die than have congress with another of their gender.

Travelling through Mongol lands, some desolate and severe, others fertile and abundant with fruits I have never heard of, I witnessed the barbaric brutality and raw sexuality of the Mongol peoples, the rape and beheading of enemy soldiers, and sheiks who take pleasure with several wives, beautiful young female concubines, and beautiful young male concubines depending on their mood. I witnessed the rivalry between royal houses, brothers vying with brothers and uncles vying with nephews for land and followers. From the boy whore China Boy Zhang I learned the more exotic aspects of love play, the use of cock rings and anal beads, and how to raise passions higher than I ever imagined possible with tenderness and love.

Following the assassination of Prince Abbas, I travelled with a caravan of merchants as a guard and bacha (singer), gradually making my way west. Performing for the Sultan of Herat, I sensed his desire that I join his court as one of his possessions, both for my voice and for my body, which hastened me on my way before he succeeded. Learning of a group of men intending on travelling west to expand their knowledge and skills, I readily accepted their offer to join them. In our travels I discovered that throughout most of Persia bache bazi, boy play, was commonly practised by nobles and commoners alike, and that the joy of the love of boys was a common theme in the poetry and philosophy of both ancient and present peoples. The praise of such practice ran contrary to everything I had been taught and yet matched my own beliefs and desires, resulting in a daily struggle with my conscience.

When my companions turned north and away from my destination, we parted company and while searching for a way home I gained employment as a harem boy to a rich sheik, sixty-four years of age with four wives, six female concubines, six boy concubines, three eunuchs, and numerous slaves, servants and guards. The presence of Christian slaves purchased from Barbary Coast slave traders and with the arrival of Christmas, the conflict between my Christian background and my lust for men and delight in pleasures of the flesh became even stronger, and as I learned more about Islam and jihad, the similarities and differences with Christianity caused me to struggle with my basic religious beliefs and I began to despair of ever returning home.

To my joy, my master announced a pilgrimage to Mecca far to the West and listed me among those who would be joining him. So I found myself celebrating the birthday of the Prophet Mohammad and engaging in an orgy with my master like a heathen, and on our way across the vast Arabian desert encountering the mysterious and feared Badawi who though more devout and ascetic than any people I have met rut with boys like any other Saracen. Unable to deny the lust of the Bedouin patriarch, I did reject the sexual advances made by the female concubine Jauharah, who was in her fertile period and eager for a child, and advances by the eunuch Sali'a with dire consequences for it caused them to be dismissed from the sheik's retinue and put my life in danger.

The sheik had agreed to release me of my duties upon our arrival in Mecca, but it soon became evident that he was not about to honour that agreement and in fact was planning on taking me back east with him. When Jauharah and Sali'a made an attempt on my life and mistakenly killed another they thought was me, I fled to Abyssinia with a young, black Christian slave by the name of Sol before a second attempt could be made. There I travelled to Sol's home, witnessing many strange and wondrous beasts and engaging with him in the gadai follee and the running of the bulls, a rite of passage for those turning sixteen. Hoping to find information about Prester John and thinking that perhaps the king of Abyssinia was the fabled Christian leader, I found instead he was a follower of the Coptic Orthodox Church. Meeting him and visiting his prison and treasury, I discovered that he imprisoned his brothers to prevent them from leading a revolt to seize his throne and was no better than the Mongol royalty I had escaped from. Eager to leave, I found passage up the Red Sea on an Arab dhow. Fighting off an attack by pirates who would surely have killed me or sold me into slavery, I arrived at al-Suways where I immediately left for Cairo with a group of traders.

Arriving in Cairo I encountered and helped a merchant from Venice, gaining me passage with him and his colleagues to Venice where much relieved to be back in Christian company I joined the young nobles of that wondrous city in their nighttime escapades despite the risks of being caught and punished by the much to be feared Lords of the Night. Much to my bewilderment, nobles gave their sons for the entertainment of powerful men for political gain and youth and men alike lived secret lives of carefree debauchery while the city's rulers feared the destruction of their city by God for the sinfulness of its citizens as he had done with Sodom. These rulers brutally dealt with those caught engaging in congress with members of their own gender, causing a renewed struggle in my mind and in my heart between my desires and what others considered sins. Witnessing the beheading and burning at the stake of one of my new companions and the cruel public starvation of a priest for his sin of boylove, I could take the life in Venice no longer.

Learning from a Turk that the Lance of Longinus was being brought to Italy and uncomfortable with life in Venice where I could fulfill my desires of the flesh but at the risk of my neck, I travelled to Florence where I rejoined Cardinal Giovanni and Michelangelo and where their enlightened attitude toward congress between men put my heart and mind at ease. From there I travelled to Anacona to join the Cardinals escorting the Holy Lance of Longinus back to the Vatican where Pope Innocent VIII received the Lance. I found the reverence and sacredness of the relic at odds with the plots and intrigue and the covert sexual activities that were daily events in the Holy See. Attending one of two political weddings of five-year-old boys and witnessing the loss of their virginity with their new wives, I learned of a ship leaving for Portugal and gratefully obtained passage home. Arriving at Lisbon, I informed King João of my discoveries, at least those suitable for his ears, and to my surprise I was awarded an estate for my services.

Finally on the 23rd of June, in the year of our Lord one thousand four hundred and ninety-two, I arrived back at Viana do Castelo and was greeted with much joy as my family had feared my death or captivity among the heathens, and I discovered the birth of a second male in the family, my brother, and the marriage of my elder sister. It was of great relief to be back with family, but also I found great discomfort for I was no longer a boy and no longer the innocent I was when I had left. So after a brief stay, I travelled to my estate where by shear coincidence I was able to continue my perverted lust with the fourteen-year-old son of the groundskeeper of my estate. Attempting to avoid Satan's temptations and reluctant to rely on my groundskeeper and his family for the welfare of my new property, I threw myself into a plan to establish a stable source of revenue to maintain my estate. Relying on the interest and expertise of my caretaker and his family, I established a fledging fishing industry, the beginning of a vineyard, and the foundation for a horse ranch. My plans were interrupted however by a messenger from Lisbon, and on the 25th of July I appointed my caretaker Steward of Quintas de Ribeiro and returned to Viana do Castelo to consult my father as to what I should do.

King João's messenger having travelled to Viana do Castelo on a small, light, single-masted ship capable of carrying up to six people, part of the Royal Fleet used specifically for quick transport of messengers and envoys along the coast, we returned to Lisbon the same way. Blessed by Our Gracious Lord, we had favourable winds and made the journey in two days and two nights, arriving early in the morning of the third day. Changing into my best clothes and donning my cape with the insignia denoting I was a Knight of the Order of Santiago, a venerable honour King João had bestowed upon me, and fastening it with the silver clasp in the form of a rearing horse given to me by his late son Prince Afonso, I was escorted immediately to the palace and was given an audience with King João that same morning, the matter being of the utmost urgency. I was informed by King João that the Catholic Monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella of Castile, were sending an expedition headed by a Cristóvão Colombo across the Ocean Sea in the hopes of finding a westerly route to the spice lands. Having been impressed with my past service accompanying his son Afonso to Madrid, and with the information I had brought back from my journey to the east, information which was the result of my inadvertent travels through the vast and barren lands of the Saracens, he informed me much to my surprise that he had decided I would be the best individual to travel with this Colombo and serve as a spy for Portugal.

I knew little about this Cristóvão Colombo other than that he was a Genoese by birth but who had lived for a time in Portugal as a young man and there had married a noble woman by whom he had a son, and that his wife had died shortly after giving birth. Shortly thereafter he had moved to the Spains. I had learned from Uncle that he had tried on two unsuccessful occasions to seek funding for his mad plan from King João, and had made at least one previous attempt to do so with the Catholic Monarchs. In my opinion it was a far-fetched idea, anyone with any knowledge of the world knowing that it would be much too far for a man to sail for no ship was large enough to carry enough food and fresh water for such a journey, and he would be sailing into waters unknown to man, and likely inhabited by sea monsters the likes of which were better left unknown. It was a fool's voyage, one filled with danger and the unfamiliar, but I must confess the challenge and daring of such a voyage intrigued me. In addition, the trust and responsibility placed on me by my monarch were a great honour, and, I must confess, filled me with such pride that I could not help but agree with his scheme. As I left the audience chamber, it was fortunate Mother, Father and Uncle were not present to witness my strutting through the castle and down the streets of Madrid like the vain and foolish peacock that I was. (1)

Time was of the essence and knowing I would accept out of my loyalty to him, or perhaps knowing of my vanity, King João had already made arrangements to transport me to my destination by a swift single-masted ship, only myself joining a highly trusted captain and his sole crewman. Treating me with the same deference as he would any of those travelling on business for His Majesty despite my young age, he was surprised and pleased when I stripped down to my waist and relieved his crewman, and when he saw I was skilled in managing a small sailing craft, he set up a schedule in which we each worked sixteen candle marks and slept eight so that at any given time there were two of us guiding the ship. Sailing close to the coast, there was actually little for us to do, the winds and currents doing most of the work. Rounding the southernmost cape of Portugal, we veered east and north, reaching Palos de la Frontera on the morning of the fourth day. I knew from Father and Uncle that the port was an important one, being the easternmost port of Castile and a major trade centre, and the home of several rich and famous ship builders. Even so, I was most surprised at its size, and the number of ships tied up at the docks and anchored in the harbour. I was most impatient to land, fearing that the expedition had already set sail, but we had to wait our turn to be admitted by the harbour master. To make matters worse, given the nature of my covert mission we had assumed the pretense that I was the son of a minor merchant come to purchase Castilian wine which was hardly a priority for docking.

Finally receiving permission, I was relieved to learn that Colombo had not yet left and I set to pushing my way through the crowds in search of his mooring. I finally reached where his ship was tied up, but was turned away by the ship's Royal Steward, one Pedro de Gutierrez, who informed me that they were no longer hiring and refused my request to speak to the captain himself, saying that the captain was much too busy and that it would be of no consequence anyway. Learning that there were in fact three ships which would be setting sail, I sought out the other two and was told the same thing by their stewards, and that there was little point in speaking to the captains of the two vessels as only the Admiral himself, as Colombo wished to be called, had the authority to hire and he had completed that task the previous day. Returning to the main ship, I attempted to sneak on board, there being much activity with men loading supplies for the voyage and making the ship ready for sailing, but the Royal Steward was a sharp-eyed man and spotted me, and after my first attempt he was on guard for any future attempts.

That evening I sought out any members who had been hired in the local taverns, hoping to get a recommendation from one of them, which I was sure a few rounds on my purse would ensure, but I was not so fortunate. I even considered, much to my shame, getting one of them falling-down drunk and injuring himself so I could offer to take his place, but the men were not about to risk their employment, or were such sots any one of them would have had to consume a keg of ale to get drunk. Dejected, I slept little that night. I made no headway with the Stewards or the crew members of the three ships the following day, and though the dock was even busier than the day before, resulting in greater confusion, the Stewards were keeping a watchful eye on who boarded their ships.

I realized by their dress that there was an extraordinary number of Jews milling about, and stopping and talking to one young fellow I discovered that the Catholic Monarchs had decreed that all Jews in the land were to instantly convert to Christianity, or be put to death by fire. Already, he said, hundreds had been burned in the marketplace for refusing to give up their faith. Recalling the Castilian brutality I had witnessed during my earlier visit to Madrid, I shuddered at the memory of the tortures and killings, the abominable perversions Jew prisoners were forced to perform, even son upon father, and the stench of burning flesh in the marketplace. I wondered if Josephe the Jew shoemaker that I had helped rescue from the Castilians two years ago had been so foolish as to return to Castile and I hoped for his sake and that of his young son that he had not.

As I dejectedly took my evening meal late that evening in the dockside inn where I was staying, a rundown establishment of questionable repute that I would not normally frequent but which seemed to be popular with the local sailors and especially those hired on by Colombo, a young, dishevelled boy with long greasy hair, smudged cheeks and dirty fingernails but with an attractive face and even more attractive buttocks clearing tables caught my eye, and I caught his. Despite his young age, which I figured to be about twelve, he was an experienced lad and as he picked up the dirty plates he bent over, offering up his backside for my inspection, and glancing over at me, he ran a hand down along his thigh suggestively. In need of something to lift my spirits and the boy being handsome enough that I was reasonably sure he would be able to lift not just my spirits but my flesh, I gave him an encouraging smile. Quickly crossing over to pick up the empty mugs on the table beside me, he whispered that he would be taking a break from his duties behind the establishment in half a candle mark.

So I lingered over my meal and had another goblet of their cheap wine and thought of the fine grapes I had purchased for my estate and of my Steward and of his fourteen-year-old son Vasco and I wondered what they were doing that evening and if Vasco had found another to satisfy his sexual appetite in my absence. My thoughts of him and our sport together caused the lust in my loins to swell so when I joined the young kitchen boy in the dark alley behind the inn, I was ready for him. He too was ready as he informed me he only had less than half a candle-mark before he had to return to work and held out his hand for payment in advance. It was a coarse move but it did not dampen my ardour. After all, I had spent the better part of a year selling my own body, though not so cheaply nor so crassly. I paid him the smallest coin I had, a couple centimos, which from the look in his eyes was more than he was accustomed receiving.

So, with him smelling of sweat and greasy food and the alley smelling of wharf rats and kitchen refuse and the air smelling of the sea, he dropped his trousers and I dropped mine and I took him standing there in the shadows. His arsehole was hot and moist but not that tight and as I easily sank my member up his ass I wondered how many men had used him in the past, or even that very night. So great was my perversity and my need that the thought of slipping my cock through the accumulated slime of several other men got me even more aroused rather than dissuading me. Grasping his hips, I began to savagely and eagerly pump my own to and fro, driving my swollen cock in and out of his asshole. He was impassionate but all I required was a willing boy with a hole, something which much to my shame I had provided others many times in my sordid past, and at times with as little enthusiasm. Whether or not the twelve-year-old boy was enjoying our congress did not really matter and the needs of the body took over and my mind instead focussed on the throbbing of my swollen member and the pleasant itch about the knob, sensations that are not uncommon for sixteen-year-old boys. Soon I was spurting my seed up his arse, and not having shot it for several days, it was copious and delightful. As we pulled up our trousers, he hinted that he would be off work at midnight but I knew he was only interested in more of my coin, not because he had derived any enjoyment out of what we had done. Having spent my seed and worked off my lust, and my frustration, I had little interest in further congress and made no comment on the offer.

Word was that Colombo would be sailing the following evening with the prediction of favourable winds and I desperately tried once again to convince the Royal Steward to allow me to see the Captain, even offering a bribe which to his credit he did not take. Failing that, I tried once again to sneak aboard the lead ship and failed once more, succeeding only in rising the Steward's ire. Filled with dismay and despair, I was at my wit's end as evening arrived and from the activity on deck the men were preparing to sail. As I was considering trying to sneak aboard one of the other ships again even though I knew it was futile, a group of men approached the Royal Steward and my hopes rose that they would provide a distraction and that I might still achieve my goal. The group, I noticed, included a cardinal from his dress, accompanied by several lesser priests, and I suspected, probably personal guards. A sailor was dispatched up the gangplank and I watched for my opportunity. Before it arose, six men appeared at the rail of the Santa Maria and descended the gangplank, from their clothes and their demeanor clearly men of importance, and as they talked, I heard one of them call the tallest of the men and the one in the lead Colombo. I learned later that the other five men were the captains of the other two ships and the owner and master of each of the three vessels.

As Colombo stepped onto the dock, I slipped from the shadows where I had been hiding and was before him before anyone could stop me. Dropping to one knee and doffing my cap, I informed him of my desire to sail with him, blurting out my qualifications and skills as a sailor, but he abruptly informed me that he had enough sailors, and, he added evidently questioning my youth, that they were skilled and experienced men all. By then the Royal Steward had called for the Master-at-Arms, one Diego de Arana, and had reached us, anger in his eyes and his hand on the pommel of his sword. I quickly informed Colombo that I was skilled in Languages and offered myself as an interpreter. Raising his hand to stop the Royal Steward and Master-at-Arms from dragging me off, he asked if I spoke the language of Great Khan, whom he had every expectation of meeting on this voyage, and when I confessed that I did not but I was certain I would be able to learn, I was abruptly informed that he already had an interpreter fluent in Hebrew and Arabic and he nodded for the Master-at-Arms to remove me. As the man grasped me about the waist, I offered my services then as guard, but he informed me he had no need for soldiers as he was on a trade and diplomatic mission to Great Khan, not about to declare war on him with three ships, to the amusement of the other men accompanying him. As the Master-at-Arms began to drag me away, the Cardinal called for him to stop.

"You are a member of the Order of Saint John of Jerusalem?" he asked, cocking his head to one side as he studied the scabbard at my side.

"Yes, I was made a knight of the Order by His Eminence, Pope Innocent VIII."

"The late Pope," he said solemnly. "Innocent died eight days ago."

"I did not know," I said, crossing myself. "Has a new Pope been chosen?"

"No. Not yet. The Cardinals have been summoned, but it is a long distance for an old man such as myself to travel, and besides, I have little interest in such discussions and debates. Anyway, I have important and pressing things to do here, and I think it is evident who will be his successor." (2)

Although thin and showing his age, I could tell he was a man of action and a military man from his air of authority and the way he carried his body and would not be comfortable discussing theology with many of those I had met or seen at the Vatican. "Cardinal Borja?" I dared to venture. That I was so daring surprised me.

"Yes," he said with a slight smile and though he tried to hide it, with some surprise that I would know. "What did you say your name was?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. In my eagerness to express my desire to sail with Colombo, I could not recall at the time if I had mentioned my name and I do not recall now.

"Nicolau Ribeiro."

He thought for a moment. "The youth Innocent sent to travel to Istanbul on his behalf and who was captured and forced to join the perverted Mameluke army, and who after much abuse no Christian man should have to endure, escaped from them, killing hundreds of the savage Saracens at great risk to his own life, and then travelled with the barbaric Janissaries and endured their vile ways to do as he had been commanded by the Holy Father. The youth who by the Grace of God convinced the heathen Bayazid to relinquish the Lance of Longivus and then escorted it back to its rightful place in Rome. Your exploits have been the subject of much gossip at the Vatican and among the Princes of the Holy Church. And from your success, it is no surprise that you wear the Cross of Saint Christopher."

Saint Christopher, the patron saint of travellers. It had hung about the neck of Uncle Paolo for as long as I had known him until the morning I had departed for Lisbon just six days past, his parting gift that teary morning. "Well, yes, I did mention-," I began. True, I had talked to the Sultan Bayazid II about the Lance, and I had accompanied those escorting the Lance back once it arrived in Italy, but most of it was pure coincidence and not anywhere near as grand as the Cardinal had made it sound.

"The Lance of Longivus?" interrupted Colombo.

"Indeed. This joven is highly regarded by the Holy See. And it is evident he is more knowledgeable than most regarding the inner workings of the Vatican." (3)

Colombo studied me, looked skyward, looked at me again and then at the cardinal. "Surely that Our All-knowing and Gracious Lord God has sent one so devout and so blessed to join us in our journey across the Ocean Sea is a sign, a blessing of good fortune on our expedition." He looked at me again. "We leave immediately."

"Everything I need is on my back."

"Then you will sail with me," he said. "Cardinal."

We bowed our heads and Cardinal de Mendoza blessed the ships, the honourable and brave men standing before him, and the crew about to sail. I offered up a quick and silent prayer to Saint Christopher for his part in securing me passage with Colombo, and to Uncle Paolo for gifting me with the cross. As I followed four of those brave and honourable men up the gangplank of the Santa Maria, I wondered at Colombo's words and at my brashness in stepping before him, and in expressing my opinion regarding the successor of the late Pope Innocent. Perhaps seeing my desperation the Good Lord did intercede on my behalf and I gave him silent and most grateful thanks. We left the port at eight that evening. (4)

Three days into our voyage the helm of the Pinta disconnected and two of our leader's many faults were revealed, his short and violet temper and his deep feelings of persecution. He became extremely angry and cursed the owners of the caravel, one Gomes Rascon and one Cristo hal Quintero, whom he suspected of sabotage because, he claimed, the voyage was displeasing to them, having been forced by, he said, the Most Christian and very exalted and very excellent and very powerful Princes, the King and Queen of the Spains and of the Islands of the Sea, our Lords, to provide the Pinta for this exploration which they did not wish to do. The Admiral went even further, saying that before he left, they had discovered the aforesaid men concerned in certain plots and intrigues, though whom he meant by "they" and what those plots were he did not say. The Admiral was greatly disturbed besides that he was unable to come to the aid of the Pinta.

The crew of the Pinta did manage to make repairs and we continued on our way but it is a difficult job to do in water and the helm separated once again two days later and the Pinta began to take on water. The pilots of the three ships met to discuss what should be done and in the course of their discussion I discovered that the three disagreed exactly where they were. Columbo felt we were close to the Grand Canary Islands and stated that he wished to go there to leave the Pinta and obtain another caravel there if one could be found. The failing of the Pinta and the disagreement among the three pilots were, to me, a poor beginning to our journey, and hardly filled me with confidence in our leaders.

So, on the tenth day of our voyage, Sunday, August 13 in the year of our Lord one thousand four hundred and ninety-two, we arrived at the Canary Islands, at one time claimed by France, Portugal and Castile until they fell under the authority of the Castilian crown by treaty with Portugal thirteen years ago. There Colombo ordered the restocking of provisions, repairs to the Pinta, and rerigging of the Niña's lanteen sails to square sails. Being islands of farmers and fishermen, there was little for the sailors to do while we waited. The islands were named the Islas Cararias by the Roman Pliny due to the presence of wild dogs, canes being Latin for wild dogs, many of whom still roamed the islands making it dangerous to travel outside of the towns without a weapon. Many of the men sought out women to help while away the time and like any seaport there were houses to be found where women provided such pastime for a price.

Myself I found gravitating toward the nine-year-old son of a caulker working on the Pinta. The boy envied me traveling off to sea and confessed to me his dreams of exploration, and that he was not content to follow in his father's footsteps. He listened in awe as I related some of my experiences, which I must shamefully confess in my conceit I found most pleasing and which I found myself embellishing. And so it was that I told him in detail of my first voyage to the Kongo and the practice there of the black savages to give girls or boys to visitors for their nighttime pleasure, in part to bolster my image in his eyes, finding his admiration most pleasing, and, like the devil Satan, in part to lead him into temptation. He of course was curious how a boy could provide the same pleasures as a girl, and I to my shame and depravity willingly offered to instruct him.

So, one hot, dry afternoon while his father was toiling in the sun to caulk our vessels and his mother was toiling in the kitchen preparing his evening meal, he took me along the sea cliffs to a favorite spot of his there and in the shade a grove of date palms we dropped our trousers and I introduced him to the sin of self abuse. He watched me closely as I revealed that age-old secret, slipping my thumb and four fingers about my flaccid flesh and slowly stroking it, brushing them against the rim of my bulb ever so lightly so as not to arouse myself too soon. My cock of course responded quickly to my ministrations and began to swell, much to his amazement as he claimed his had never done such a thing. I continued until my cock was stiff, and I offered it to him to feel and he did so hesitantly, as if it might be a hot poker, and he was amazed at its hardness. I then told him to try the same with his, which he did eagerly, using his thumb and only two fingers his little tiddler was of such tiny size. It took longer for his flesh to respond, this being a new experience, and I suspect, because he was only nine, but in time his little member began to swell also. I asked how it felt and he replied that the bulb itched and burned but not totally in an unpleasant way.

Once he was stiff, I told him to stand and walk about and I did likewise and he giggled how our cocks stuck out from our bodies and pointed the way. We sat again and we continued stroking, slipping our fingers up and down our swollen flesh slowly and deliberately, concentrating on every sensation throbbing through our stiff cocks, a throbbing long familiar to me and one that was new to this innocent. We did it slowly, enjoying it thoroughly until he observed that his arm was beginning to tire. We rested for a bit and then continued and I closed my eyes and controlled my breathing as I tried to delay the inevitable, wanting him to be the first to experience that ultimate of pleasures. I stopped frequently and when he inquired I told him as a boy gets older he has to pause, but I did not explain why. As I was about to give in to my desire, certain I could not hold back any longer, he observed that his cock had gone numb, and I told him that was natural, and that the desired result would not be long in coming. Suddenly he quivered and jerked his hips repeatedly and from the glaze in his eyes I knew he had reached his climax. The knowledge that this young boy was having his first orgasm, and that it was because of me, I found so erotic that when I reached my own orgasm it was the most violent I have felt for a long time. Perhaps it was because of the lengthy delay, and I suspect it was perhaps for both reasons. The boy stared at me wide-eyed and slack-jawed as I spurted my seed onto the ground.

As we headed back down from the cliffs I made him promise not to tell another soul about what we had done or what I had shown him and with his eyes filled with worship he promised that he would not. We met his father on his way home from work and he greeted me cordially as I and his son had become frequent companions, and as he and his son headed off to their home and I back to the ship, I wondered what he would think if he knew what his son had learned from me that afternoon.

I of course sought out my young pupil the following afternoon and he was most eager that we take another walk up along the cliffs and again we sat beneath the grove of date palms and pleasured ourselves as we looked out across the sea, though I must confess I spent more time watching him than watching the sea as I found it arousing to watch this innocent youngster stroking himself, and I noticed he also spent much time watching me, and the fact that he was watching me increased my arousal. As we parted, he asked eagerly if I would be by the next day, and of course I responded that I would. That night I thought about the coming afternoon and wondered if I should extend his education. On the one hand I was most anxious to do so and just the thought had my member eagerly jutting up and aching for attention despite having been pleasured that afternoon, but on the other I knew that what I had taught the youngster to do was considered a sin by our mother Church, and by most adults I knew, and that what I was considering on introducing to him next was an even greater sin. I fell asleep stiff-cocked and aching with guilt, and I awoke feeling the same way. I was most hesitant to join him and several times decided I would not, but in the end Satan won out, revealing me to be a weak-willed wretch.

Arriving at the grove of date palms and dropping our trousers, I inhaled nervously and almost decided not to do what I had planned, but as I looked down at that tender, inviting tubelet of flesh and at his eager, bright-eyed face, I decided that to not share my knowledge would be selfish and wrong. I asked him if he remembered how our secret sport had all begun, with my telling him how the black savages of the Kongo had provided a boy for pleasure, and how he had asked how a boy could bring another pleasure like a girl. He nodded and said that he did.

"Well," I said, my voice suddenly very husky and my breath trembling, "there are many ways that a boy can pleasure another. One is to do to another what we have been doing to ourselves."

He immediately asked if we could try doing each other, proving to me that in a boy's mind there is no concept of sin and in his heart no concept of shame for seeking this pleasure and for sharing it with another. Before I had a change of heart, I spread apart my hands and offered my most private parts to him. Without a moment's hesitation, the innocent reached over and picking up my limp cock he began to stroke it as I had shown him how to stroke his own and my cock responded instantly and far more rapidly than to my own stroking. I of course reached over and picked up his little worm and it too responded quickly, proving that the flesh shows no guilt nor hesitation. Feeling his little tiddler growing quickly in my fingers caused my own to grow faster, and the swelling of my cock caused his to swell faster also. In no time we were both stiff, his little nine-year-old cock and my sixteen twice its size, but both aching with the same desire.

I fought the temptation to go faster and instead pumped my fingers up and down his stiff flesh with exaggerated slowness and he similarly pumped his fist up and down mine with the same slowness, copying me exactly. It felt so much different having a smaller, hotter hand stroking my stiff cock than my own, and as I looked down at him the eagerness and joy in his eyes and the curl of his lips as he watched his hand slipping up and down my shaft and over my bulb left no doubt in my mind of the rightness of what we were doing, that older boys were meant to instruct younger ones in the secret ways boys can pleasure each other, and that younger boys were meant to pleasure older boys.

It was of such pleasure that I wanted to squirt my seed heartbeats after we had begun and it was with immense effort that I held back until he reached his orgasm first, and as he jerked and gasped with his climax, his delight caused me great pleasure and I inhaled deeply and released my seed. It shot up into the air and away from my body with more force and farther than it had the previous two days, and felt doubly as pleasant, but not as pleasant as the feeling I had witnessing his own orgasm. When it brings both so much joy, how can the sharing of such pleasure be wrong? As the pressure in my loins subsided, my seed spurted with less force until it ceased to spurt and flowed out the opening of my swollen cock and over his young, innocent fingers. He watched as it did so and then, curious, he raised his fingers to his eyes and studied the thin film of creamy slime and rubbed it between his fingers and thumb and then smiled up at me with innocent delight. He brought his sticky fingers to his nose and inhaled deeply, and recalling my own curiosity and wonder regarding this marvel of the male body, I brought mine to my nose and smelled them also with the same wonder as he. When we returned to his home a while later, his mother had just finished baking and the delightful fragrance of bread fresh from the oven filled our lungs and caused our mouths to water, but to me the fragrance was nowhere near as satisfying as the fragrance of a young boy's cock on my fingers or that of one's seed fresh from one's balls.

There was another boy who helped the time go by, a fourteen-year-old Guanche by the name of Ismail al-Hamani, the son of a basket weaver. (5) I spotted him selling baskets in the market square several days after our arrival. Not only was he an attractively handsome boy, but he resembled another fourteen-year-old Berber whom I had befriended two years ago, the young cutpurse Ahmar, who had taught me much about congress between boys, and who was my first true love. While I was watching, he got up and headed down the street and I followed him, hoping for some opportunity to strike up a conversation. Seeing him turn into an alley, I broke into a run and turned into the alley also, hoping I had not lost him. Discovering him standing there, I skidded to a stop and practically knocked him over. Why he had stepped into the alley was embarrassingly obvious.

"Well," he said, looking me up and down as he continued to relieve himself, "you are much too clumsy to be a cutpurse, unless you are as dumb as you are clumsy for you will not get any coin from a basketweaver's son. And you are much too young to be following a boy to pay him for a mid-afternoon pleasure, so you have either rushed in here to do what I am doing, or you have been following me because you are one of those boys who has a special liking for other boys." He had the same smile and the same gift of the tongue as Ahmar also. He had the truth of it and I began to turn crimson. "Ah-ha," he said, "so I am right. Fortunately for you, I am a very virile person and have very high needs, and it matters not to me if the one satisfying those needs has to stand or squat to piss." Ahmar had made the exact same comment. "You do not say much," he continued without giving me a chance to speak, "but then that it not the use of your mouth that I am interested in." I glanced down at the brown sausage in his hand. "Come, I already have it out for you."

Such was my perversity and depravity that I decided why not? He was attractive and that really was why I had followed him, and he not only looked and talked like Ahmar, but he was of the same brash character. Perhaps that is the way with young Berber boys, for it certainly seemed to be with those I have met and it is the truth that some races, especially the Blacks and the Arabs, know no sexual taboos and rut like dogs in the street. And so I dropped to my knees there in the alley and took his member in my hand. His even had a hood like Ahmar's had. Having had much experience with men who were like him, I drew it back to ensure he was clean, which to my relief he was, and I shook his member and milked it to dislodge any remaining piss before bending forward and taking it in my mouth. His dark brown cock had a slightly salty taste, from him having just taken a piss I suspect, but it was neither strong nor unpleasant, and it had a musky, cheesy odor, which I found enticing rather than repugnant. His cock began to respond quickly to my actions and was soon hard. Gently sucking on his member as I slowly slipped my lips up and down the shaft, I closed my eyes and I focused on the pleasure that comes with pleasing another boy this way. There was no doubt he was deriving pleasure as I felt the underside of his cock just below the bulb throb and I clamped my lips down just below his bulb to cut off his desire and to prolong his pleasure, and mine.

Waiting until I was assured that his ardor had subsided, I resumed sucking his cock and working my lips up and down its length and I closed my eyes once more and again focused on the pleasure that comes from that most intimate of acts between boys, and the pleasure that comes knowing the delight that sucking another's cock brings another. I delayed him one more time, but when I felt the underside of his cock pulse a third time I prepared myself for what was about to happen and continued. Soon thereafter he began to shoot his seed and I rapidly and eagerly began swallowing it. It was, I thought, of a mildly sweet taste, and thinner and more watery than most. His need was great and he shot a large volume, which I managed to drink as fast as it filled my mouth.

"You are good," he gasped when I finally slipped my lips off his still stiff cock, "very good." He was breathing heavily and his face was flushed and his dark brown eyes glazed. His balls, so dark they were almost black, were drawn up tight beneath his projecting sausage. Dropping to his knees, he reached up and untied the cord holding up my trousers and they dropped to my ankles, revealing my cock standing erect in my excitement. "How did you know when I was going to spill my seed?"

I told him about the tremor on the underside of one's cock and promising to try to bring me the same prolonged pleasure, he slipped his thick, dark brown lips over my bulb and began to suck. I watched him slowly slip his lips down my shaft until he had my entire cock in his mouth and from the glow in his brown-black eyes I could tell he was receiving as much enjoyment as I was. He was skilled and evidently experienced in providing this pleasure and I stood there with my trousers about my ankles and enjoyed his hot, moist mouth totally enveloping my stiff cock, and then the delight as his suction began to tug on my stiff member and his lips began to ease back up the shaft. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the throbbing and itching pleasure between my legs, my cock seeming to swell until it was twice its size.

All too soon I felt my seed about to erupt and I was about to tell him when he slipped his lips up my shaft and clamped them tight below the bulb as I had done to him, preventing me from shooting my seed. I inhaled and exhaled deeply as I enjoyed the throbbing pleasure between my legs and the tension deep in my groin as my nuts fought to release their load and my mind and flesh fought the urge until the pressure in my groin subsided. He resumed sucking then, slowly bringing me back to that point that was both exceedingly pleasant and exceedingly painful, and for a second time he delayed the spurting of my seed. Once again he began he began to suck and to work his lips up and down my shaft, and once again I delighted in the throbbing of my swollen cock and the itch around the rim of my knob. He was clearly enjoying sucking my cock as much as I had enjoyed sucking his, a pleasure that knows no racial boundaries.

As he brought me to that peak a third time he did not stop and I could not delay any longer. Heartbeats later I began to fill his mouth with my seed. As I had done, he immediately began to swallow but my load was copious and spurting out of my cock rapidly and he could not keep up. My seed oozed out from the corner of his lips and the slime oozed down and around his chin to form an obscene goatee and I threw back my head and sighed and groaned with the pleasure of my release. When at last I ceased to throb out my juice, he continued to suck on my still rigid cock and to slip his tightly clamped lips up and down my shaft, sucking out the remaining seed and savoring its raw taste. At last he sat back and wiping his dark brown lips and chin off with the back of his hand, he smiled up at me.

"You are very good too," I observed with a smile of satisfaction, and he returned the smile.

We met several times in the market after that first time and caught each other's eye and slipped away to that alley. If his father noticed that his son had to relieve his bladder whenever I walked by or that he was strangely flushed when he returned or smelled of sex, he never said anything. We were detained for three weeks and four days but for me the wait was not an unpleasant one. Finally on Thursday, September 6 in the year of our Lord one thousand four hundred and ninety-two, we left San Sabastian La Gomera to continue on our way. Colombo reported that three Portuguese caravels were sighted near the island of Hierro and that they intended on capturing him because the King of Portugal was envious because he had gone to Castile. Again I had to wonder at the Admiral's joy in being persecuted. There may have been such ships though none were ever seen even though we were becalmed that day and night, but I knew for a fact it was a lie that King João was envious.

Six days later the crew on the Niña reported seeing a jay and a ring-tail which brought much joy to the crew for it meant land was near. I myself could not believe that we had crossed the Ocean Sea so quickly and that land was already within reach but these were largely men of experience so I kept quiet. While the crew's spirits had been lifted, I myself remained in ill sorts. I had not slept solidly since leaving the Islands as almost nightly I awoke finding myself wet and sticky with nocturnal emissions and every morning I had to take great care that others did not see the erect state I was in when I went to the head to relieve myself. One of the men joked that I was being unnecessarily prudish and that I had nothing that every other man on the ship had, and another joked that perhaps it was because of my size that I was being so careful not to be seen and joked that I need not worry for when I grew up I would have the equipment of a man. Their comments only served to make me blush, which caused them to make them all the more and all the louder.

At least they did not suspect the real reason for my modest behaviour which was some relief. Being discovered, however, was only part of my fears. Of equal worry was that my excesses while delayed on La Gomera had somehow injured my member so that it could no longer hold back my seed while asleep, and that it had somehow made it more sensitive so that it became aroused without needing thought or touch. Nightly before sleep I asked the Lord for forgiveness of my sins and to cure me of these shameful ailments, but I was a wretch and a sinner and He had no Ears for me.

On Saturday, September 15, at the beginning of night, we saw a marvellous branch of fire fall to the sea some four or five leagues away which the Admiral said was a sign from the Lord that land was not far away and He was showing us the way, which raised the joy of the crew even higher. For the next two days the sea became clogged with grass, a sure sign of land, and rain began to fall, causing me to reflect on the Admiral's great Christian faith and God's reward for such loyal belief, and I wondered again how I had gone so wrong coming from a faithful, Christian home.

It was at that time that I discovered that Colombo was using and recording two sets of distances. When I questioned him, he told me that he was computing and reporting to the crew the lesser number of leagues so as not to frighten them if the voyage should prove to be lengthy. By using the shorter distance, they would not think they were that far from Castile and so would not worry about their return but in reality our distance was the latter number. He swore me to secrecy and knowing the temper and anxiety of the crew, I agreed as my mind reasoned it was the right thing to do though in my heart I felt a leader should not lie to his men.(6)

About a week earlier while assisting the pilot, Pero Nino, I had noticed that the needle of the compass was no longer pointing to the North Star but instead varied a half point to the Northwest. I made a point of checking it each day after that and as our journey progressed I noticed it continued to vary further. When I at last mentioned my observation to Colombo, I was told to be silent and not to mention it to the crew on pain of death. The crew he said was quick to panic, which I had come to realize also, and with their destination unknown they would be most fearful. The crew was also experienced, however, and others soon discovered the fact themselves and became most anxious and, already homesick, voiced their opinion we should turn around. When confronted, Colombo claimed that the needle of the compass did not point to the North Star but rather pointed to some invisible point on Earth and there was nothing to worry about. He also expressed his hope that in answer to his prayers, "to our exalted God in whose hands are all victories land will very soon appear." Already suspecting his navigational skill, as were others, including the Pinzon brothers, I said nothing for I knew there was no advantage in doing so, but the variation in the compass reading was hardly something new, the occurrence having been noted and recorded by other sailors and being something Father had explained to me on our voyage to the Kongo two years ago though I had not witnessed such a thing until this voyage. (7)

Several days later we were calmed again and again the sea was clogged with grass and the sailors began to worry that there would be no wind to carry us back east. As if their voices had been heard, the next day we encountered a contrary wind which blew us in the direction we had come, calming the sailors' fears but setting us back. Then the following day, a Sunday, we encountered great sea waves like Moses must have encountered leading his people out of Egypt which sent fear in the hearts of the crew once again. When we had begun this voyage, I had felt that it would be a short voyage and we would be forced to turn around. Now I was beginning to fear that we would not return at all. That night I fell to my knees and grasping the Cross of Saint Christopher I prayed to the Saint for safe journey in these turbulent seas. On Tuesday, September 25th Martin Alonzo Pinzon mounted in the stern of his ship and with great joy called to the Admiral, begging a reward from him as he saw land and the Admiral commenced on his knees to give thanks to Our Lord. Men climbed the masts on all three ships and agreed that it was about 25 leagues away and we and Martin Pinzon's people dropped to our knees in thanks and said Gloria in Excelsis Deo and I offered silent thanks to Saint Christopher. The next day, however, to our disappointment we discovered what we had thought was land was only cloud along the horizon. The weather was pleasant with a mild breeze and our ship followed a current like a river, bringing everyone much needed relief and hope after our disappointment.

My nightly emissions and morning erections had thankfully ceased, my body and mind having recovered from my excesses on the Canary Islands, the result of my long hours of honest work and my abstinence, in thought and in deed, and in response to my prayers and plea for forgiveness, but I found my prurience doubling each day and I so desperately wanted to bring myself relief that my groin ached with pain. I refrained from doing so however, out of fear of being caught, and out of fear of injuring my member again. One sailor, a younger man whose name I shall not reveal to spare him and his family the shame, did not show such restraint and was caught abusing himself one night when he thought all were asleep. The Admiral made him stand before the assembled crew and he was castigated and humiliated for his weakness and his shirt was removed and he was lashed for his sin, and he was given a bucket and ordered to clean the head daily for a week for although the great waves we encountered did an efficient job of keeping the head clean, there were days when we were becalmed and the head quickly became most foul with forty men using it. (8)

As a result of our disappointment, Colombo ordered that the ships unite at sunrise and sunset as at these times the mists disappeared and it was the best time to see long distances. To ensure the ships traveled within distance of each other, Colombo also made a habit of sending a chart between ships by cord to mark our route at those times. There was much beating about, something Colombo did not like to do and which did little to raise confidence among the crew, but it was necessary. (9)

About two weeks later, at sunrise on Sunday, October 7, as we were all sailing as fast as possible in order to see land first and enjoy the reward which the most Christian and very exalted Sovereigns had promised to whomever should first see land, the caravel Niña which was ahead on account of being a fast sailor, raised a banner on top of the mast and fired a lombard, the signal that had been arranged to indicate they saw land, but it was again another false alarm, causing the men to grumble and for tension to rise once more and I feared they would mutiny so great was their fear and their desire to return home.

Later that day a great number of birds were seen going from North to Southwest and it was reasonable to assume they were heading to land to sleep, or perhaps were fleeing from winter which had to be approaching in the countries from whence they came. I mentioned that the Portuguese discovered the greater part of the islands in their possession by the flight of birds, and Colombo changed his course from the west, turning his prow to the west-south-west to follow them, deciding to set that direction for two days and telling the crew that the Portuguese had found many of the islands in their possession by following the birds, making it sound as if it was his idea and not mine. I could tell from his voice his uncertainty, and so did much of the crew.

Three days later we had yet to find land and tempers were running high and the crew had enough and were ready to mutiny. Colombo became very angry and said he intended on finding the Indies with the aid of the Lord and that there was no use to complain. Convinced that I would never see Portugal or family again, that night I prayed to the Lord for forgiveness of my sins and I prepared to meet my Maker.