After sunset, its brooding silhouette cuts out a vast swathe of the night sky and reiterates precisely the same statement, albeit in a somehow more forceful way.
On this particular night, the silhouette of the citadel is also notable for the fact that – unusually – lights are burning on high, in the quarters where the Governor-General resides.
Perhaps he is entertaining?
He is.
It is a night to farewell one of the VOC’s most faithful servants in the East Indies, Admiral Willem Jansz, who has decided to retire and return to the Netherlands. Jansz first ventured to the Indies some 30 years earlier with the second fleet, was the captain on the venture that first mapped het Zuidland , the Southland, which lay below New Guinea and roughly 40 days’ sail to the east of Tafelbaai , and was beside Coen when they stormed Jacatra. He advised Coen on how best to subsequently defend the nascent settlement of Batavia, was the governor of the Banda Islands for three and a half successful years and went on countless diplomatic missions throughout South East Asia on behalf of the VOC, where he always proved himself to be a singularly valuable servant of the Company.
It is appropriate, thus, that on this, his last night in this key part of the Dutch Empire that he has done so much to build, he sits in the place of honour, right beside Governor-General Coen at the head of the long table at which sit all the senior VOC officers in Batavia. Toast after toast is made to his health, his wealth and a safe journey home.
The following day, late in the afternoon, Jansz gives the orders for the admiral’s flag on his ship to be hoisted and for the anchor to be raised. Taking advantage of the wind that nearly always blows off the land at this time of day, he sails out of Batavia on his way towards the Sunda Strait, to thereafter pick up the south-east trade winds that blow at that time of the year all the way to the Cape.
As Batavia recedes into the distance, the lucky sailors selected to make the long-dreamed-of return voyage sing what has become an almost traditional song in the prior ten years: ‘Vaarwel, Batavia, zeilen wij nu thuis’ , farewell, Batavia, we’re now sailing home.
Tapping his foot to the tune, Jansz continues to gaze back on Batavia until it finally sinks below the horizon, at which point he sighs with both regret and relief. In some ways, he is sorry to be leaving, while he is still joyous to finally be heading home. Despite Batavia’s formidable defences, he wonders just how long the Dutch outpost will be able to hold on the next time the Sultan of Mataram attacks, for he has little doubt that another attack will be coming.
Early January 1629, aboard the Batavia , off the coast of Africa
They sail on.
By now, the Batavia has gone so far down the coast of Africa that they are very close to Sierra Leone, where they will briefly stop before heading sou’ by sou’-west, crossing the equator mid-Atlantic before entering Brazilian waters, enabling them to roar back across the Atlantic to the Cape of Good Hope. Working out their latitude on any given day – how far to the north or south of the equator they are – is a relatively easy matter, at least when both the sun and the horizon are visible during the day, or the Polaris star is visible at night. At noon, Jacobsz ‘shoots the sun’ – that is, while standing steady on the poop deck, he ensures that his marine astrolabe is absolutely level by pointing at the horizon and then measuring the angle of the sun above that horizon. Of course, the closer they get to the equator, the higher in the sky the sun is, and by consulting his carefully calibrated charts Jacobsz can work out precisely what latitude they are on.
In fact, highly experienced mariners such as Jacobsz and many of his crew can make a good estimate of their latitude even without using the astrolabe. At night, the closer the stars get to rising directly from the east and then moving up to
On this particular night, the silhouette of the citadel is also notable for the fact that – unusually – lights are burning on high, in the quarters where the Governor-General resides.
Perhaps he is entertaining?
He is.
It is a night to farewell one of the VOC’s most faithful servants in the East Indies, Admiral Willem Jansz, who has decided to retire and return to the Netherlands. Jansz first ventured to the Indies some 30 years earlier with the second fleet, was the captain on the venture that first mapped het Zuidland , the Southland, which lay below New Guinea and roughly 40 days’ sail to the east of Tafelbaai , and was beside Coen when they stormed Jacatra. He advised Coen on how best to subsequently defend the nascent settlement of Batavia, was the governor of the Banda Islands for three and a half successful years and went on countless diplomatic missions throughout South East Asia on behalf of the VOC, where he always proved himself to be a singularly valuable servant of the Company.
It is appropriate, thus, that on this, his last night in this key part of the Dutch Empire that he has done so much to build, he sits in the place of honour, right beside Governor-General Coen at the head of the long table at which sit all the senior VOC officers in Batavia. Toast after toast is made to his health, his wealth and a safe journey home.
The following day, late in the afternoon, Jansz gives the orders for the admiral’s flag on his ship to be hoisted and for the anchor to be raised. Taking advantage of the wind that nearly always blows off the land at this time of day, he sails out of Batavia on his way towards the Sunda Strait, to thereafter pick up the south-east trade winds that blow at that time of the year all the way to the Cape.
As Batavia recedes into the distance, the lucky sailors selected to make the long-dreamed-of return voyage sing what has become an almost traditional song in the prior ten years: ‘Vaarwel, Batavia, zeilen wij nu thuis’ , farewell, Batavia, we’re now sailing home.
Tapping his foot to the tune, Jansz continues to gaze back on Batavia until it finally sinks below the horizon, at which point he sighs with both regret and relief. In some ways, he is sorry to be leaving, while he is still joyous to finally be heading home. Despite Batavia’s formidable defences, he wonders just how long the Dutch outpost will be able to hold on the next time the Sultan of Mataram attacks, for he has little doubt that another attack will be coming.
Early January 1629, aboard the Batavia , off the coast of Africa
They sail on.
By now, the Batavia has gone so far down the coast of Africa that they are very close to Sierra Leone, where they will briefly stop before heading sou’ by sou’-west, crossing the equator mid-Atlantic before entering Brazilian waters, enabling them to roar back across the Atlantic to the Cape of Good Hope. Working out their latitude on any given day – how far to the north or south of the equator they are – is a relatively easy matter, at least when both the sun and the horizon are visible during the day, or the Polaris star is visible at night. At noon, Jacobsz ‘shoots the sun’ – that is, while standing steady on the poop deck, he ensures that his marine astrolabe is absolutely level by pointing at the horizon and then measuring the angle of the sun above that horizon. Of course, the closer they get to the equator, the higher in the sky the sun is, and by consulting his carefully calibrated charts Jacobsz can work out precisely what latitude they are on.
In fact, highly experienced mariners such as Jacobsz and many of his crew can make a good estimate of their latitude even without using the astrolabe. At night, the closer the stars get to rising directly from the east and then moving up to
Similar Books
