The Voyage

Narrative Essay

This essay is fictional and not meant to be realistic only for narrative writing purposes. Viewer discretion is advised.

    I opened my eyes, and took a quick look around the room. I was unsure of where I was, and why I was crying. I feel warm palms on my back, a very reassuring feeling; the feeling of someone who could care for me over decades and decades. I looked at her eyes, and I knew from then on, that she was my mother. I looked at my palms; they were so small compared to the other people around the room. My vision was still a bit hazy, and my mind felt completely blank. My whole being was lifted and moved to another location, I was then handed to a large man. He looked at my happily, his smile assured me he was safe. He began speaking words that were completely foreign to me, “Lo ti nome, Christopher Columbus (I shall name you, Christopher Columbus)” I had no idea what his sounds meant to me, I was clueless of all my surroundings.
    9 years later, I turned 10 years old and today was my birthday, I heard my mother call us from afar, me and my brothers, Bartolommeo, Giovannia and Giacomo, ran as fast as we could back home. My heart was racing and my breathing quickly sped up, I had to control myself. “Christopher, tuo padre è venuto a portarvi a vela per la prima volta per il tuo compleanno. (Christopher, you father has come to take you sailing for your first time for your birthday.)” The amount of excitement within me was impossible to contain, so I let out an incredibly large screech. I was so proud to be by my father’s side, aiding him in small yet necessary tasks.
    Days later, I took my first step into the boat, it made annoying creaking noises that I soon learn to ignore. The smell of saltwater filled my nostrils as I let my hair flow carelessly in the breeze. “Si fanno sembrare divertente ora, ma negli anni a venire si apprenderà che il mare non è dove divertimento e giochi dovrebbero essere tenute. (It make look fun now, but years to come you'll learn that the sea is not where fun and games should be held.)” My father stated, I looked over the railing to the ship, and saw nothing but water. I was taught that the world was flat, but looking now, could it really be? If it was flat, the sky should not meet with the horizon of the water, because it should be parallel. Someday, I’ll find the answers to these questions.

8 years later, when I finally reached 18, the age of true manhood, where I need to fulfill my duties and take full responsibility for my actions. Then, my parents decided to move to Sovona, “Ci stiamo muovendo per Sonova (We’re moving to Sonova)” They blandly said, I was greatly disappointed, but I have to be adapted to dramatic changes. I can’t cry, I’m older now; children cry, men and women endure. I took a heavy inhale, and braced for the future ahead of me. I asked my mother to tell me the reason of why we’re moving. “Ci hai un insegnante oltre a Sonova (We got you a master at Sonova).” Should I be happy? My mind was confused, I wasn’t sure if I should be happy that I got a master to teach me, or depressed that we’re moving. I shouldn’t let my feelings get in the way of my future, so I disbanded all my thoughts and began moving forward.

3 years later, I was walking the streets to Sonova, the streets full of sounds of market salesmen, feet stomping on cobblestone, and loud conversations of crowds. The air was fresh and windy, and the sky was bright and blue. It was hard paying attention to the sky when you’re trying to avoid the busy street of accidentally bumping into someone. Swaying my shoulders back and forth, trying not to let anyone get hurt from my mistakes. Once I finally reached my destination to a small building, yet 3 stories high, built in gray tiles and wooden frames. I first knocked on the door and waited for a response. Moments later, I raised my hand for the second knock, but the door flew open. My teacher stood in front of me smiling, behind him was a warming fireplace with 3 people surrounding it, one was the father of Centrione family, another from the Di negro family, and lastly one from the Spinola family. My teacher invited me in and introduced me to them. I was supposed to do business with them, they come from wealthy families. I can easily see it in their clothing, lined what seemed to be, golden leather. Will I be making riches like them? I was convinced to believe so.

Another 3 years afterwards, I turned 24, I was getting ready for a pretty important trip, I was to sail a boat to Bristol, England. I'm very excited that we’re transporting large amounts of wealth overseas in an armed convoy, so I felt pretty safe if pirates came around. The men that were hired were tall, serious-faced, and husky. They looked mean, but in reality they’re pretty friendly. Once I got on the boat, I looked at my feet and heard the creaking noises, looked over the side of the boat across the horizon of the ocean, and flashes of memories of my father and I sailing for my first time. I was  tearing up a little bit. I clenched my fists and focused on my task ahead of me. I yelled my commands, they followed with ease, it was a lot easier than I thought, we began moving and I did not look back.

A few months after I turned 27, I was staying at Libson awaiting orders from the Centurione family. While walking around the busy streets, buying food from the markets, I met my brother, Bartolommeo, I was extremely happy to see him, for I have not seen him for a few years. We exchanged greetings, explained our past achievements, and talked about family troubles. I was happy to know he was doing well; {{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}

 he came with me to meet with the Centurione family. I’ve known the Centurione family for a few years know, I can feel a bond full of trust between me and the father. I too, can trust him. Once we stepped into his large house, I can see Bartolomeo from my side in awe, looking at the 4 story building with at least 9 windows from left to right. I knocked on the door in a gentle manner, and waited. Moments later, the butler, Michelangelo, answered and said in a gentle voice, “Il maestro sta aspettando, Christopher. (The master is waiting, Christopher.)” Once inside, my brother seemed to have stepped into another dimension, his eyes quickly pacing around the room, looking at all the pretty shiny objects that fluttered the room. Once we reached the living room, the whole Centurione family was there, it seems they were eagerly waiting for me. my head was filled with confusion and the air was thick of awkwardness. “Sei stato un membro fidato del mio lavoro, Christopher. Vorrei restituire a voi chiedendo se si desidera sposare mia figlia. (You’ve been a trusted member of my business, Christopher. I’d like to repay you by asking if you’d like to marry my daughter.)” I was shocked, I was not expecting such an offer, of course I agreed, I would not like to upset him. She was gorgeous, her hair always shined in the sunlight, and her skin was smooth as the soft side of a pillow. She said nothing, but look at the floor, did she really love me? I felt as if I was taking away her freedom her accepting to the marriage. I tried my best to try to ignore that feeling, but it never really worked.

A few months later, I had a son, it was a wonderful feeling inside my self. I can feel the hairs on my skin begin to lift as an enormous amount of joy and peace filled my head. I couldn’t help, but cry. My wife, Filipa Moniz Perestrelo, grew fond of me, saw the better side of me. I held my son and cherished it against my chest, I looked into its eyes, and he looked into mine. “Io ti nome, Diego Colombo. (I shall name you, Diego Columbus.)” I sated proudly. Filipa looked at me with eyes set for the future. As I was hoping to stay at the house alongside with my newborn son and my wife, Filipa, but Centurione found new business at West Africa, I had to sail there, it will take a long time, but business is business, as they would say in the Centurione family. I gathered my men and sailed away as Filipa and Diego await my return.

While the three years in West Africa, trading spices and other riches, I felt large resentment in Spain, a feeling inside me that I was not wanted back in Libson. I followed my instincts, and instead of going back to Libson, I took my retreat to Spain. Until now, not even I could figure out why I had left, but I did. When we reached Spain, the land of where success begins, in my opinion, I felt a brand new start, where I can finally start over a fresh clean slate and find new and better oppurtunities. When exploring the new streets of Spain, my eyes caught a glimpse of a beautiful young girl, I had to get her name. It was hard to see her through the crowds and loud chattering voices of the street. I was practically swimming through the dense mob of pedestrians, until I finally reached her. I gently placed my hand on her shoulder, she quickly turned around like a shocked deer. I asked her, “Qual è il tuo nome, per favore? (What is your name, please?)” She told me it was, Beatriz Enriquez de Arana. I felt as that name will be in my head for quite a while. We took a stroll along the streets together, walking through parks, and quiet sidewalks. We had a long conversation together, she’s an orphan, she’s also 20, she grew up in a small village and came here looking for better opportunity. I ended up marrying her a few days later.

I stood at the balcony of my house, looking across the horizon yet again, thinking of the edge of the world. My gaze went for hundreds of miles, my eyes reflecting the ocean, thinking of my son and wife in Libson and especially my father. My concentration was abruptly interrupted by a loud knock on the door. I took my time to walk down the steps and open the door, not really care who was behind the door and how impatient he/she could be. My brother was behind the door with a very welcoming grin on his face, I too was greatly happy to see Bartolomeo, I was never unhappy to see him, one of my favorite. Right there and then, standing in the living room, I could remember it so clearly, the biggest idea struck me harder than a large nail through the forehead. I stuttered for a moment, my brother thought a demon possessed me or some other tragic event. I had to calm myself, this idea was inexplicably massive to any I’ve ever had in a while. I went to the kitchen and washed my face in the pail of water. I took a large inhale, and gently exhaled to recollect my thoughts. I could sense Bartolomeo was getting very impatient with me, probably thinking I’m over dramatizing the situation, he just wanted to know what I was thinking. I slowly explained it to him, my idea of finding the new route to Asia, the East Indies to be precise, how we can just sail west till we reach the end, and also how the world has a large possibility that it is not flat. Bartolomeo’s expression was completely blank, I hope he didn’t think I was out of my mind. Bartolomeo thought I was stupid and should get my head out of the clouds, I did not give up. I wanted to do this, I felt it was my destiny.

I wrote a letter, directing to the King of Portugal, I wanted to see if he could fund my trip to find a new route to West Indies. I spent quite a while on that letter, I felt really good about it. Days later, I received a message from the king back, the amount of anticipation to see a granting permission letter was almost killing me. I ripped open the envelope, only to see a rejection letter. My heart sunk faster than a ship getting pelted with 15 cannonballs. I held back my tears, there are many more Kings I thought to myself. I wrote letters to Genoa and Venice, only to come back with more rejection letters. I was now crying, feeling completely lost. Angry at myself, maybe I didn’t try hard enough? What if I am wrong, all I’m doing is chasing for unrealistic dreams. “¿Por qué no pruebas la reina Isabel, ella es muy generosa (Why not try Queen Isabella, she is very generous.)” Beatriz stated, that statement echoed through my head. Maybe there is hope, I shouldn’t have given up so easily. I stood up, with tremendous amount of courage. This time, I didn’t write a letter, I wanted this to be personal, so I went in person. The castle was enormous, bigger than what in Venice and Genoa had. Just as elegant though, I took my ,what seemed to be, long and slow steps. I knocked on the door, and awaited for the large door to open slowly and let me in. Once the door opened, the butler asked who I was, I simply told him I had a proposal to give to the King and Queen of Spain. He looked at me funny, for a while. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, then he finally accepted my being, and let me in. He took me to about five or six other rooms, all glittered in gold and silver, I couldn’t help but stare. I walked to their throne room, they looked at me, as if the eyes of God stared me down. I was scared, but I had to show no fear, or they’ll think I’m some regular pheasant asking for the impossible. I respectfully walked up to them, and told them my story, how I thought this brilliant idea, how many rejected, and why I believe they should accept me. First they looked at each other, seemed to be talking in telepathy, then they looked at me for a while, and these words made me realize, what if this is my destiny? “Lo reconozco, Cristóbal Colón, la fundación para cumplir con sus ideas de encontrarla nueva ruta a las Indias (I grant, Christopher Columbus, the foundation to fulfill your ideas to find a new route to the Indies.)” I looked at her, with eyes of great thanks, at the time I could not say anything, I was speechless, I did not expect it to be so easy, but it was time, time to prepare for the future that was ahead of me, to sail the journey that might change lives forever.

I opened my door, looking at my wife with eyes of great joy, she looked at me, without saying a word, she knew something good has occurred. I went to my studies, took careful planning, organization, preparing, listed down the things we needed, the quantity of how much we needed, planned how long it could take. How weather could affect us, many others. Once I finished my preparations, I felt I was missing so much more, and I knew I was. Queen Isabella was helping me fund the trip, so I had no money troubles knowing she had an endless amount. She provided me three ships, the Nina, the Pinta, and The Santa Maria. The Nina, was very small, Nina meaning small girl, this ship was meant for scouting out long distances, The Pinta was a regular average sized ship, very colorful, could be used for decoration or to store extra men, in-case some other had either been lost at sea or passed away due to diseases, and lastly The Santa Maria, this biggest of the three, this is where I was to be held, to write a log of my trip, how it’ll go and what I might see. I looked at these ships, felt good about myself, thinking this will be a safe and quick trip, no harm to anyone will be done.

I turned 40 a few days ago, I celebrated my birthday, and now it’s time to let fun and games aside for the chance to look at destiny in the eyes and grasp it, for now it’s my chance to fulfill what I believe, is needed to be done. I clear my head, it’s a dark afternoon outside. I get on my boat and look straight at the horizon, as I always do when I get on the boat for the first 10 seconds. I feel it’s something I should do, to remember the past. Behind me, is the two other boats, Nina and Pinta. They’re now under my command and are to do what I say. I gave the signal, and we are now sailing away.

It’s been a few days since we first began sailing, the wind is fresh and the sea is salty, my crew is glad to be by my side, it’s all but sadness and despair ahead of us. I feel excited and hyperactive, more than usual. I have three other co-commanders to help take charge while I stay in my studies. And while in my studies, I take journal with me, I write near the calming candle flame in the lamp. I write about how my day was, how is my men doing, and how are supplies are going. I keep two journals, just in-case I get some troublemaker stealing my stuff. I need to keep a copy. It’s going good so far, yet I feel something deep down inside me, something bad is going to happen, not sure what it might be, but something bad.

A month later, this was not going as I expected, things are going downhill from here, and only a month has passed! I haven’t told the men yet, thankfully they won’t find out soon, but we’re running out of supplies. And not a single hint of land yet! I’m worried, will we die here? In the middle of nowhere, will I accomplish nothing in life? Some of my men, the ‘smart ones’, are becoming very suspicious of me. They don’t think they’ll find anything at all in the middle of the sea. I’m now hoping to God, for some sort of sign of land, ground, island, anything.

Yet another month later, some men died of starvation, many others are beginning to start mutiny against me, very little are loyal under my command, should I commit suicide? Or will that make me a quitter, I should die trying, not letting anything get in my way. I would love to have faith in myself, but there’s just not enough hope I have left. Then in the very early morning, as I stay at my captain’s quarters, fast asleep. I hear a yell, not a yell that someone would scream when their scared, but a yell of excitement. I quickly opened my eyes and got my shoes on, I opened the door with tremendous eagerness. I look up at the sail, and see the lookout with the telescope, pointing out in the ocean. I rush myself with the best of my abilities to the edge of the boat, and at first I couldn’t see anything clearly, I had to squint my eyes. Still nothing. Sure enough, I saw small hills, very small hills. Yet, hills of land. I too, was as excited as the lookout, I woke the men, the men were first skeptical, but they saw it too. I couldn’t contain my excitement enough to let out a loud screech to the sky. We’ve done it, I said to myself.

Hours later, once we reached the land. Was this the Indies? I had the same feeling that I had when we started my journey, there’s no way this couldn’t be the Indies? Could it be China? I just forgot about it later, this is a time to be happy, not skeptical. We scouted around the area, gathered some resources. Ate their exotic fruits, which could be poisonous or not, I don’t think anyone cared, we were hungry. The feeling of stable ground below my feet felt almost foreign to me, I had to get used to it. Once we gathered enough food for my stomach, we had to go back. We had to go back and tell the others of my tale, the road ahead of us may just be the beginning. This discovery I know, will bring the Age of Exploration to life, and begin a world of adventurers.