council’s president, who just happened to be Fonseca. Two weeks later, the Spanish crown took up the council’s charges against Aranda and removed him from any further involvement with the expedition. He was, in short, disgraced. Fonseca could have tarred Magellan and Faleiro with the same brush, but they were not the targets of the inquiry, which concluded that these men were innocent of scandal. With the purge of the unstable Faleiro and now the acquisitive Aranda, Magellan could only have felt a sense of relief mingled with fear of what the all-powerful Fonseca might do next to the Armada de Molucca.
A s the date of departure approached, Magellan turned his attention to the complicated and hugely expensive matter of provisioning the ships. During the long months of preparation, Magellan’s five ships were tied up at a dock known as the Puerto de las Muelas, because it was paved with millstones. It was here, at Millstone Dock, that the ships took on all the sailing gear, arms, provisions, and furnishings that they would bring on the voyage. It was the only dock where wine, an essential part of the sailors’ diet, was permitted to be loaded. The dock, and the area around it, throbbed with activity, the waters constantly stirred by small craft coming and going, the streets packed with carts bearing supplies, all of them checked by customs inspectors who made certain that the merchants paid their tariffs—and their payoffs—to the proper authorities.
Magellan approached the task of provisioning with as much attention to detail as he did the outfitting of the ships, and with good reason. The food represented a considerable investment: 1,252,909 maravedís, nearly as much as the cost of the entire fleet, and that figure covered just enough food to see them through the first leg or two of the voyage. It was expected that the sailors would be looking for additional food at almost every port, and in the ocean itself.
Of the food that Magellan took on at Seville, nearly four-fifths consisted of just two items, wine and hardtack. Wine was considered the most important; it was tax free, and an official was required to come aboard and make certain it had not soured or become contaminated. The wine was stored in casks, which were carefully maintained, and in pipes sealed with a cork and with pitch. These were meticulously stowed on board the ships according to a plan designed to maximize the use of the limited space below deck.
Hardtack, the other staple of the sailor’s execrable diet, consisted of coarse wheat flour, including the husk, kneaded with hot water (never cold), and cooked twice. The result, a tough, brittle biscuit known as biscocho, was stored for up to a month before it was sold. Inevitably, the hardtack degraded in the humid conditions at sea, and when it became soft, and rotten, and inedible, it was called mazamorra; the sailors boiled the stuff until it turned into a mush known as calandra, said to be so vile that even starving sailors refused it.
The ships also held flour stored in wooden barrels, to be kneaded with seawater and then grilled as a kind of tortilla, as well as meat, usually pork, bacon, ham, and especially salted beef. And some meat came on the hoof. The fleet carried seven cows and three pigs; they were slaughtered just before or just after departure; otherwise, they would have eaten their way through a considerable amount of valuable food. Their presence turned the ship into a floating barn, with an odor to match. Barrels of cheese, almonds in the shell, mustard, and casks of figs were also loaded on board the ships. As unlikely as it sounds, Magellan’s fleet carried fish—sardines, cod, anchovies, and tuna—all of it dried and salted. In expectation of catching fresh fish along their route, the ships’ holds included a generous amount of fishing line and a plentiful supply of hooks. There was little in the way of fresh vegetables; instead, the sailors consumed chickpeas, beans,