Chapter 11
Cebu Cathedral
July 1635
Father Blanco had spent the day in the Parian, the Chinese ghetto of Cebu, with his fellow Jesuits. It was missionary work, of a sort; the Chinese who lived there were mostly pagans. However, it was frustrating that he could not speak to them in their native language, as he could to the Japanese when he was in Nagasaki. Or, for that matter, to the kirishitan in Manila.
The day’s experience had, however, brought the latter much to mind. The younger Kimura was of marriageable age, and Father Blanco had expected to offer him the sacrament of marriage when that happy day arrived.
He lit a prayer candle and placed it before a statue of Saint Vitalis of Milan. Then he knelt and prayed for the Kimura family, the other kirishitan of Dilao and San Miguel, the kirishitan still in Japan, and the millions of pagan Nihonjin that could lose their chance to go to heaven if they died before the missionaries returned and brought them into the True Faith.
Duty demanded that he serve as a chaplain on an Acapulco galleon for a time, but he hoped to preach in Japanese once again.
Welcome House, Texada Island
Isamu took a sip of Yells-at-Bears’ latest tea imitation, taking care not to get his moustache wet. The Iemitsu Maru and Sendai Maru had brought some tea leaves, but the quantity was too small for tea to be drunk at any save special occasions, and then only by the privileged few. The farmers had brought both seeds and cuttings, but thought it unlikely that the tea plant would grow on Texada. The summers were just too cool. Even if they did grow, it would be three years before a tea crop could be harvested.
He made a face. This one might do as a medicine, like pine needle tea, but it would not be drunk for pleasure. So far, the imitation tea he liked best was the one made from strawberry and thimbleberry leaves.
There was a knock on the wood frame of the fusuma, the sliding door for Isamu’s little office at the Welcome House. The paper for the fusuma was made by hand-pounding strips of the native cedar bark. Isamu would have preferred the more translucent mulberry paper from home, so he could see if someone were outside his door, but it was available only in limited quantities.
“Come in,” said Isamu.
His visitor was Captain Fukuzawa of the Iemitsu Maru, the senior captain of the flotilla that had brought the ironworkers and the kirishitan to Texada.
“Welcome, Fukuzawa-san. How are your sailors faring?”
“Much better, thank you. They are now all recovered from their bout with scurvy.”
“Excellent,” said Isamu. “And what of the crews of the Sendai Maru and Unagi Maru?”
“I believe they are also restored to full health,” said Captain Fukuzawa. “We captains are now putting the crews to work refitting and reprovisioning the ships for the return journey.”
Isamu frowned. “I had hoped that you could put that off until September. First, at least until the Ieyasu Maru returns, we need your ships here as a deterrent against native war parties. And second, that would allow us to visit the neighboring tribes, for negotiation of trade terms and fishing and hunting rights, from a position of strength.”
“I see. The problem is that the longer the Iemitsu Maru and the Sendai Maru stay, particularly in close proximity to your kirishitan colonists, the more they run the risk of being forbidden to return to Japan. For fear that our sailors’ thinking has been contaminated by their heresies.”
“But you shared the ship with the kirishitan on the passage here!”
“True. But we had the samurai guards to keep the kirishitan below decks, away from the crew quarters. Now, it is too easy for the sailors to mix with the colonists. I can’t keep them confined on board for weeks on end when we aren’t sailing anywhere. And they are all too aware that there are women among the colonists.
“The Unagi Maru can stay; its crew has special waivers, like those on your Ieyasu Maru. They can remain in New Nippon longer than we can without losing the right of return. I think it was intended that it serve as a scout for the Ieyasu Maru in the future.”
“I understand your situation,” said Isamu. “But please consider mine. The Unagi Maru by itself isn’t big enough to be a sufficient deterrent. The presence of your two big ships until the Ieyasu Maru returns is essential to the safety of the colony. The Indians can put hundreds of warriors into war canoes, if they wish to do so, and I cannot hold them off without your help.” While a few cannon had been delivered to the colony, most were still on the ships, and expected to remain there.
“You do not have the authority to order us to remain,” said Captain Fukuzawa stiffly. “You were merely a squad commander under Hosoya Yoritaki.”
Isamu’s expression tightened. “You were told to obey the local authorities, neh? That’s me, under authority granted me by Captain Haruno. Who represents Date Masamune, grand governor of New Nippon. Now, I grant that Captain Haruno expected to return before any colonists arrived, but there is no point in spitting against the sky!
“It is plain that this colony is very important to the grand governor. He didn’t just send kirishitan here, there’s a whole team of ironworkers! It is clear that the eye of the grand governor is upon us both.”
Captain Fukuzawa muttered, “That may be true. But I won’t linger if that means staying in New Nippon for the rest of my life. Not, at least, without a direct order from my superior.”
“Suppose we have you move the Iemitsu Maru and Sendai Maru to northern Texada, and you stay there until September?”
Fukuzawa raised his eyebrows. “Why there?”
“We believe there’s a bay there. It’s far enough from Sandy Bottom Bay to discourage, ahem, casual visitation, but it can be reached if need be.” Isamu didn’t volunteer that his “belief” was based on Yells-at-Bears’ recollection of tidbits of “friend-of-a-friend” geographical knowledge.
“Well . . . Well, I’m willing to take a look at it and see if it’s a fit anchorage.”
“Fine. I’d like to go with you, and take Yells-at-Bears and Saichi with me. Yells-at-Bears can help us find the bay and the stream, and Saichi can check whether there is anything worth mining up there in the future. We can take the Unagi Maru back to Sandy Bottom Bay.”
With some reluctance, Isamu left Haru and Masaru in charge of the colony, and he, Yells-at-Bears and Saichi boarded the Iemitsu Maru. Fudenojo, the mate from the Ieyasu Maru who was Isamu’s nautical expert, boarded the Unagi Maru; he wanted to get firsthand knowledge of how it handled. All three ships sailed out of Sandy Bottom Bay.
Fortunately for Isamu’s relationship with Captain Fukuzawa, there was indeed a bay at the northern end of the island. In fact, there were two of them. Since the northern end had the shape of a three-clawed hand, and the Japanese dragon—the tatsu—has only three claws on each foot, he called them West and East Dragon Bays.
West Dragon Bay faced west, and Captain Fukuzawa did not like the looks of it. Fudenojo, as the commander of Isamu’s sailors, had kept a weather diary, and it showed that all too often the wind in the vicinity of Texada Island came from the west.
East Dragon Bay, on the other hand, faced north, and there was a cove in the southwest corner that faced east.
The three explorers, with several sailors and marines, boarded a longboat and went ashore. Saichi examined the rocks in the area and reported to Isamu that the most common one was limestone. Back home, lime was used to make shikkui, a water- and fire-resistant plaster for buildings.
“Is that something we can sell back home?”
“It probably isn’t worth the shipping cost,” said Saichi. “But we can make good use of it here.”
Saichi paused for thought.
“Well?” said Isamu. “Spit out what you’re thinking.”
“We know it rains a lot here during the winter. And anywhere there’s limestone, and a lot of rain, should have caves.”
Isamu raised his eyebrows. “You want to use the caves for storage?”
“If there are caves, there may be bats. And if there are bats, there is bat guano, which can be used to make saltpeter. One of the three ingredients of gunpowder.”
A freshwater stream was located and the sailors from the Iemitsu Maru and Sendai Maru started building huts. The crews of the two transport vessels could refill their water casks, and forage for food. There were stores in the hold, reserved for the return passage, but it didn’t hurt to have more.
While the Iemitsu Maru remained at anchor and on guard, the Sendai Maru would be careened so that barnacles could be removed and the hull inspected and recaulked. Once the Sendai Maru was fit to return to the open sea, it would take on guard duty and the Iemitsu Maru would be careened. That way there would always be at least one ship of force—at least by Pacific Northwest standards—on call, should Isamu send word that one was needed. With a favorable wind, a ship could sail from East Dragon Bay to Sandy Bottom Bay in a couple of hours.
Here the Iemitsu Maru and Sendai Maru would stay until September, safe from the baleful cosmic influence of the kirishitan, unless Isamu (or his presently absent superiors) gave permission for them to leave earlier.
Isamu would have preferred for them to stay in Sandy Bottom Bay, but he reminded himself of the adage, “even a cup of tea will stave off hunger for a while.”
“What now?” asked Saichi. “Do we return to Sandy Bottom Bay?”
“Not yet,” said Isamu. “We are here, with reinforcements to call on if need be, so let’s explore northern Texada.”
It was a good idea, but their timing was unfortunate.