That same evil influence which had first carried me away from my father’s house—the same restless impulse that hurried me into the foolish notion of making a fortune and made me deaf to all good advice—now presented a new enterprise to me. I went on board a vessel bound for the coast of Africa, or, as our sailors popularly called it, a voyage to Guinea.
It was a great misfortune that, in all these adventures, I did not join the crew as a common sailor. Had I done so, I might have worked harder, but I would have learned the duties of a seaman. In time, I might have qualified as a mate or even a master. However, it seemed to be my destiny to always make the worst choice. Because I had money in my pocket and wore good clothes, I chose to go on board as a "gentleman" traveler. Consequently, I had no specific duties on the ship and learned nothing of how to sail her.
By a stroke of luck, I fell into good company in London. This does not always happen to misguided young men like I was then, for temptation usually finds its way to such people very early. I became acquainted with the master of a ship who had recently returned from the coast of Guinea with great success and was resolved to go again. The captain took a liking to my conversation and, hearing that I wished to see the world, told me that if I joined him, I would travel for free. I would be his companion and messmate, and if I had any goods to trade, I would receive the full profit of the venture.
I embraced the offer. I entered into a close friendship with this captain, who was an honest and straightforward man. I took with me about £40 worth of toys and trifles, which I had gathered with the help of some relations. I believe they even persuaded my father, or at least my mother, to contribute to this first business venture.
This was the only voyage in all my adventures that could be called successful. I owed this entirely to the integrity of my friend the captain. Under his guidance, I gained a solid knowledge of mathematics and the rules of navigation. I learned how to keep an account of the ship’s course and how to take an observation of the stars—essentially, everything a sailor needs to know. He took delight in instructing me, and I took delight in learning. In short, this voyage made me both a sailor and a merchant. I brought home five pounds and nine ounces of gold dust, which I sold in London for almost £300. This success filled me with the ambitious thoughts that would eventually lead to my ruin.
Yet even this voyage had its hardships. I was continually ill, suffering from a violent fever caused by the excessive heat of the African coast, as we traded between the latitude of 15 degrees north and the equator itself.
I was now set up as a Guinea trader. Unfortunately, my friend the captain died soon after our arrival in England. Nevertheless, I resolved to make the same voyage again and embarked in the same vessel with the man who had been the mate and was now the captain. This turned out to be the unhappiest voyage a man ever made. Although I did not take all my new wealth with me—leaving £200 with the captain’s widow, who was very honest—I fell into terrible misfortunes.
As our ship sailed toward the Canary Islands, we were surprised in the early morning mist by a Turkish pirate ship from Sallee. The pirate gave chase with all the sail she could spread. We also crowded as much canvas as our masts could carry to escape, but the pirate gained on us and it became clear she would catch us in a few hours. We prepared to fight; our ship had twelve guns, while the pirate had eighteen.
At about three in the afternoon, the pirate came alongside us. By mistake, she pulled across our side rather than our stern. We took advantage of this, firing eight of our guns in a broadside that forced the pirates to sheer off. They returned our fire, and their two hundred men rained small-shot down upon us. However, none of our men were hit, as we all stayed low. The pirates prepared to attack again, and we to defend. This time, they boarded us from the other side, and sixty men jumped onto our decks, immediately hacking at our sails and rigging. We fought back with guns and pikes, clearing the deck twice. To cut the melancholy story short, our ship was eventually disabled. With three men killed and eight wounded, we were forced to surrender. We were all taken as prisoners into Sallee, a port belonging to the Moors.
The treatment I received was not as dreadful as I had feared. While the rest of our crew was sent inland to the Emperor’s court, the pirate captain kept me as his personal prize. Because I was young and nimble, he made me his slave. I was perfectly overwhelmed by this sudden change from a merchant to a miserable slave. I remembered my father’s prophetic words: that I would be miserable and have no one to help me. I felt that the hand of Heaven had overtaken me and that I was lost. But alas, this was only a taste of the misery that was still to come.
As my new master took me to his house, I hoped he would take me to sea with him when he sailed again. I believed that, eventually, he would be captured by a Spanish or Portuguese warship, and I would be set free. But this hope was soon taken away. When he went to sea, he left me on shore to look after his garden and do the heavy work around the house. When he returned from his cruises, he ordered me to sleep in the ship's cabin to guard it.
During this time, I thought of nothing but escape. However, I could find no practical way to achieve it. I had no one to help me—no fellow English, Irish, or Scottish slaves. For two years, I entertained the thought of freedom, but I never had a real opportunity to put a plan into action.
After about two years, an unusual circumstance occurred. My master had stayed at home longer than usual because he lacked the money to fit out his ship. Once or twice a week, he would take the ship’s small boat, known as a pinnace, and go out fishing. He always took me and a young Moorish boy to row the boat, and he was often pleased with my skill at catching fish. Sometimes, he would even send me out with one of his kinsmen and the boy to catch a meal for him.
One morning, while we were fishing in a calm sea, a fog so thick rolled in that we lost sight of the shore, even though we were less than a mile away. We rowed aimlessly all day and through the night. When morning came, we realized we had pulled out to sea instead of toward the land. We eventually made it back, though with great effort and some danger.
Warned by this disaster, the master resolved to be more careful. He used the long-boat from our captured English ship and ordered the ship’s carpenter—also an English slave—to build a small cabin in the middle of it. It was like a little room with space for the master to lie down and a table to eat on. He also added lockers for his bread, rice, coffee, and liquor.
We went out frequently in this boat. One day, the master had arranged to go fishing with several high-ranking Moors. He had sent extra provisions on board the night before, along with three guns and ammunition, as they intended to do some bird-hunting as well as fishing. I got everything ready as directed. However, the next morning, my master came to the boat alone. He told me his guests had been delayed by business and ordered me to go out with the Moorish man and the boy to catch fish for a dinner party he was hosting that evening.
At that moment, the idea of escape flashed through my mind. I realized I finally had a small ship at my command. I began to prepare, not for fishing, but for a voyage. I didn't care where I steered; my only desire was to get out of that place.
First, I tricked the Moorish man, whose name was Ismael, though I called him Muley. I told him we shouldn't eat the master’s bread. He agreed and brought a large basket of biscuits and three jars of fresh water on board. While he was on shore, I stole a case of liquor bottles and a large lump of beeswax, along with a hatchet, a saw, and a hammer—all of which proved very useful later. I also persuaded Muley to bring some gunpowder and shot from the ship, claiming we might kill some birds for ourselves. He innocently agreed and brought a large pouch of powder and several pounds of lead shot. I also found some of my master’s powder in the cabin and filled a large bottle with it.
We sailed out of the port to fish. The guards at the castle didn't notice anything suspicious as they knew who we were. We sailed about a mile out and then lowered the sails to fish. The wind was blowing from the north-east, which was not ideal for reaching Spain, but I was determined to leave, regardless of the wind.
After we had fished for a while without catching anything—for I purposely ignored the fish on my hook—I said to the Moor, "This will not do. Our master will be angry. We must go further out." He agreed and set the sails. When we were about three miles out, I took the helm and gave the boy the rudder. I walked up behind the Moor as if I were reaching for something, then suddenly grabbed him around the waist and tossed him overboard.
He rose immediately, for he swam like a cork. He begged me to take him back in, promising to follow me anywhere in the world. He swam so strongly that he would have caught the boat since the wind was light. I went into the cabin, grabbed a gun, and pointed it at him. "I have done you no harm," I said, "and if you are quiet, I will do you none. You swim well enough to reach the shore, and the sea is calm. But if you come near the boat, I will shoot you through the head, for I am determined to have my freedom." He turned around and began swimming for the shore, and I have no doubt he reached it safely.
I might have taken him with me, but I knew I could not trust him. I then turned to the boy, Xury. "Xury," I said, "if you are faithful to me, I will make you a great man. But if you will not swear to be true to me, I must throw you into the sea as well." The boy smiled and swore an innocent oath to be faithful and to go anywhere in the world with me.
As long as the swimming Moor was in sight, I steered directly out to sea so they would think I was heading toward the Straits of Gibraltar. However, as soon as it grew dark, I changed my course. I steered south, staying close to the African coast. With a fair wind and a smooth sea, I believe that by three o'clock the next afternoon, I was 150 miles south of Sallee, well beyond the territory of the Moors.
Yet, I was so terrified of being captured that I refused to stop or anchor for five days. Only when the wind changed did I venture toward the coast. We anchored in the mouth of a small, unknown river. I saw no people, nor did I wish to. My primary need was fresh water. We arrived in the evening, intending to swim ashore after dark to explore. But as soon as night fell, we heard such dreadful noises—barking, roaring, and howling—that poor Xury was terrified. He begged me not to go ashore until morning.
"Well, Xury," I said, "I won't. But we might see men by day who are as dangerous as lions."
"Then we give them the shoot-gun," Xury said with a laugh, "make them run away." I was glad to see the boy so cheerful and gave him a drink of liquor to keep his spirits up.
We stayed in the boat all night, but we did not sleep. Within a few hours, massive creatures of many kinds came down to the shore and splashed into the water to cool themselves. Their howling was hideous. We were even more frightened when we heard one of these monstrous beasts swimming toward our boat. We couldn't see it, but we could hear its heavy breathing. Xury cried out for us to row away. "No," I said, "we can just cut the cable and sail off. It cannot follow us far."
When the creature was within two oars' length, I grabbed my gun and fired. The beast immediately turned around and swam back to the shore. The sound of the gun—a noise those animals had likely never heard before—triggered an incredible chorus of roars and cries from the shore. This convinced me that we could not go on land at night. However, we were equally apprehensive about the day, for falling into the hands of savages would be just as bad as being eaten by lions.
Nonetheless, we had to land eventually; we hadn't a single drop of water left. Xury offered to go ashore with a jar to look for some. "If wild men come, they eat me, you go away," he said with great affection. I was moved by his loyalty and told him we would go together.
We waded ashore, armed and carrying our water jars. I stayed near the boat, fearing savages, but Xury wandered about a mile inland. Soon, I saw him running back toward me. I thought he was being chased and ran to help him, but as he got closer, I saw a creature hanging over his shoulder. He had shot something like a hare, but with longer legs. We were very glad for the meat, but Xury’s greatest joy was telling me that he had found good water and had seen no "wild men."
As we traveled further south, I knew the Canary and Cape Verde Islands were nearby, but I had no instruments to navigate toward them. My only hope was to follow the coast until I reached the area where English ships traded. The land here was a wasteland, inhabited only by wild beasts. The negroes had moved further south to avoid the Moors, and the Moors found the land too barren to live in. For a hundred miles, we saw nothing but desert by day and heard nothing but the roaring of predators by night.
Once or twice, I thought I saw the peak of Tenerife in the distance and tried to sail toward it, but contrary winds and high seas forced me back to the coast. One morning, we anchored under a high point of land. Xury, whose eyes were sharper than mine, whispered to me to look at a "dreadful monster" sleeping on a hillock. It was a massive lion lying in the shade.
"Xury," I joked, "you shall go ashore and kill him."
"Me kill!" he whispered, terrified. "He eat me at one mouthful!"
I told him to lie still. I loaded our three guns: the first with heavy slugs, the second with two bullets, and the third with five smaller ones. I took aim at the lion's head, but his position meant the slugs hit his leg instead, breaking the bone. He started up with a hideous roar, but finding his leg broken, he fell back. I immediately fired the second gun as he tried to move off, hitting him in the head. He dropped and lay struggling. Xury took courage, jumped into the water with a small gun, swam ashore, and shot the creature through the ear to finish it off.
This was a great victory, but the lion was not food, and I regretted wasting our gunpowder. However, Xury wanted the hide. It took us the entire day to skin the beast. We spread the hide on top of our cabin, and after the sun had dried it for two days, it became a very comfortable bed for me to lie upon.