If the sailors had a moment before reporting for duty, they might relieve themselves, an unpleasant, even ridiculous chore aboard the ships. To urinate, they simply stood and faced the ocean wherever they could be sure that the wind would not send the stream back on them, or anyone else. Defecating was even more difficult, calling for a precarious balancing act as a sailor eased himself over the rail and lowered himself onto a crude seat suspended high above the waves. There were two such seats, fore and aft, known as jardines, a name ironically suggesting flowers. After he lowered his breeches and eased himself into the seat, the sailor had to void himself in full view of anyone who cared to watch—privacy did not exist aboard these ships—and if the sea happened to be rough, the frigid spray splattered his exposed bottom. (More than one sailor lost his life when he plunged from the jardines to the ocean.) When he was done, he wiped himself with a length of pitch-covered rope, and then climbed back on deck, where he no doubt breathed a sigh of relief.
Was it any wonder that the ship, with all its filth and noise and nauseating odor, was called pájaro puerco, a flying pig?
Once they had taken up their posts, the weary sailors studied the sea for buried shoals, examined the rigging, dried the dew from the lines, and checked the sails for damage. They scrubbed, repaired, overhauled, and polished every exposed surface of the ships. They applied pitch to fraying hemp, and repaired torn or stressed sails. They made their weapons gleam, and fought a constant, losing battle against protecting their food supply from vermin. After several months at sea, the five ships of the Armada de Molucca were in far better shape than they had been when they sailed from Seville.
Just above the pages in rank came the apprentices, or grumetes, the most expendable and vulnerable members of all the crew. Ranging in age from seventeen to twenty, they were the ones who sprang on the rigging the moment the captain ordered them to furl or unfurl the sail; to scamper to the dangerous lookout posts atop the masts, to pull on the oars in the longboats, and to operate the complex mechanical devices aboard ship, the pulleys and cranes, the cables and anchors, the fixed and movable rigging. They teamed up to operate the capstan, rotating its drum with levers to load (or unload) heavy supplies, weapons, and ballast. They even shaved the legs and manicured the toenails of their masters, perhaps setting the stage for sexual relations between the two, even though such behavior was strictly forbidden. Apprentices were the group most likely to be disciplined, to be whipped for disobedience, or to be confined to the stocks for as long as a week.
If an apprentice survived all the ordeals and hazards of life at sea, he could apply for certification as a “sailor,” receiving a document signed by the ship’s pilot, boatswain, and master. He was now a professional mariner, and could look forward to a career lasting about twenty years, if he lived that long. Sailors advanced through the ranks by learning how to handle the helm, deploy the sounding line, splice cables, and, if they were mathematically inclined, marking charts and taking measurements of celestial objects to fix the ship’s position.
Most sailors were in their teens or twenties. Anyone who had reached his thirties was considered a veteran scalawag; by the time he had survived to that age, he had seen what life at sea held: brutality, loneliness, and disease; he had experienced flashes of camaraderie and heroism, as well as persistent dishonesty and callousness. He knew all about the avarice of shipowners, the uncomprehending indifference of kings under whose flags the expedition sailed, and the tyranny of captains. Men rarely went to sea beyond the age of forty. Magellan, nearly that age when he left Seville, was among the oldest, if not the oldest person aboard the Armada de Molucca.
No matter how high an ordinary sailor rose, he was outranked by specialists such as gunners, essential to expeditions exploring new lands but hard to come by. Skilled in the use of cannon, in the preparation of gunpowder, and the selection of projectiles, a gunner tended to his weapons throughout the voyage, keeping them secure, clean, free of rust, and ready for battle at all times. Although most gunners were Flemings, Germans, or Italians, the Casa de Contratación kept a gunnery instructor on its staff to train Castilians. The Casa provided the cannon, but the gunners-in-training had to pay the instructor’s fees, as well as the cost of gunpowder, which was enough to discourage many potential students. Less glamorous but equally necessary fields of specialization included carpenters, caulkers, and coopers. This last group repaired the hundreds of casks and buckets aboard the ships by replacing hoops or staves and sealing leaks. There was also a complement of divers aboard the fleet, whose job it was to swim under the ships and, when necessary, clear seaweed from the rudder and keel, and inspect the hull for signs of exterior damage and leaks.
The ship’s barber, another specialist, was deceptively named because trimming beards was the least of his responsibilities. He served as the onboard dentist, doctor, and surgeon, ministering to the crew out of his chest of nostrums, herbs, and folk remedies. The fleet’s barber was named Hernando Bustamente, who shipped out aboard Concepción. Records show that his medical supplies were purchased from an apothecary named Johan Vernal on July 19, 1519, shortly before departure. Included were distillations of various herbs, among them fennel, thistle, and chicory; a purgative known as diacatholicon; turpentine; lard; various unguents and oils; six pounds of chamomile; honey; incense; and quicksilver—all of them carefully stored in canisters. Bustamente also carried an assortment of tools with him. Medical chests of the era contained a brass mortar and pestle to grind compounds, and a selection of surgical instruments including scissors, a lancet, a tooth extractor, an enema syringe made from copper, and a scale. This slender store of medical supplies and equipment would have to serve the needs of 260 men of the fleet in all climates and conditions for several years. In practice, Bustamente’s most frequent duty at sea was extracting teeth, not treating disease.
No one answered to the description of cook aboard these ships because the job was considered too demeaning. One sailor telling another that his beard smelled of smoke was tantamount to provoking a fight. So the crew took turns cooking, or paid the apprentices to cook for them. And during foul weather, there was no cooking at all, and the sailors endured cold repasts of hardtack, salted meat, and wine.
In addition to these traditional roles, the armada’s roster included phantom crew members: saints who, by custom of the sea, found their way onto the ships’ rosters. Magellan’s fleet included Santo Adelmo, the patron saint of Burgos; Santo António de Lisboa, the popular patron saint of Lisbon, who was reputed to rescue shipwrecked sailors and provide favorable winds to their ships; Santa Bárbara, whom Spaniards invoked as a safeguard against violent storms; and Nuestra Señora de Montserrat, to whom a famous Benedictine shrine was dedicated. Even more remarkable, each of these ghostly personages was accorded a share of the fleet’s profits in return for divine protection; the arrangement was a clever way of donating a portion of the expedition’s profits to the Church.
Officers ranked just above the sailors and specialists in the fleet’s hierarchy. One tier consisted of the steward, charged with keeping an eye on the food supply; the boatswain, or contramaestre; the boatswain’s mate; and the alguacil. The alguacil, for which there is no exact translation, served as the king’s representative aboard the ship and served as a master-at-arms or military officer. If Magellan needed to arrest a crew member, he ordered the alguacil to perform the deed. This was not a job designed to endear him to the other crew members, and the alguacil stood apart from the rest of the crew.