Category Archives: science

Polish Realia: Forest Layers

Warstwe Lasu i Ich Mieszkańcy Forest Layers and Their Inhabitants

Las to ekosystem, którym szata roślinna powiązana jest ze światem zwierżąt i nieżywionymy tworami przyrody. We wszystkich biocenozach leśnich rośliny konkurują między sobą o światło. Rezultatem tego jest warstwowa budowa lasu. Prowadzi ona do odpowiedniego wykorzystania przestrzeni lasu przez rośliny, tworzać sprzyjające warunki do życia dla różnych zwierżat.
A forest is an ecosystem through which the vegetation is connected to the world of animals and not nourished by the creations of nature. In all forest biocenoses [= life assemblages], plants compete with each other for light. The result is a layered forest structure. It leads to the proper use of the forest space by plants, creating favorable living conditions for various animals.

Korony Drzew Tree Crowns

Najwyższą warstwę lasu stanowią drzewa. Ich korony zamieszkują niektóre zwierżeta np. [= na przykład (e.g.)] owady, wiewiórki, kuny, i liczne gatunki ptaków.
The highest layer of the forest is made up of trees. Their crowns are inhabited by some animals, e.g., insects, squirrels, martens, and numerous species of birds.

Pictured and named: buk pospolity ‘common beech’, świerk pospolity ‘Norway spruce’, sosna zwyczajna ‘Scotch pine’; zawisak borowiec ‘hawk moth’, brudnica mniszka ‘nun moth’; wiewiórka ‘squirrel’; dzięcioł duży ‘great spotted woodpecker’, puchacz ‘eagle owl’, wilga ‘oriole’

Podszyt Undergrowth

Poniżej do wysokości około 5 m jest podszyt. Warstwa, którą tworzą niskie drzewa i krzewa dobrze znoszące zacienienie tj. [= to jest (i.e.)] głóg, tarnina, dereń, czeremka, kalina, kruszyna, jałowiec, leszczyna. W podszyciu żerują m. in. [między innymi (among others)]: sarna, dzik, jeleń, zając, lis.
Below to a height of about 5 m is the undergrowth. A layer formed by low trees and shrubs that tolerate shade well, i.e. hawthorn, blackthorn, dogwood, cherry, viburnum, buckthorn, juniper, hazel. In the undergrowth feed, among others: roe deer, wild boar, deer, hare, fox.

Pictured and named: kalina koralowa ‘coral virburnum’; kruszyna pospolita ‘common buckthorn’, leszczyna pospolita ‘common hazel’; modraszek ‘blue butterfly’; paż królowe ‘queen’s swallowtail’; orzesznica ‘dormouse’; sikora bogatka ‘great tit’; sikora modra ‘blue tit’

Runo Leśne Forest Floor

Runo to warstwa do której dociera mało światła i jest wilgotno. Porastają ją drobne krzewinki – borówki, jagody, liczne zioła, trawy, mchy, porosty, paprocie, oraz grzyby. W tym piętrze lasu schronienie znajdują liczne owady, pająki, ropuchy, żaby, jaszczurki, węże, jeże, i myszy leśne.
The floor is a layer that receives little light and is damp. It is overgrown with small shrubs – blueberries, berries, numerous herbs, grasses, mosses, lichens, ferns, and mushrooms. This floor of the forest is shelter to numerous insects, spiders, toads, frogs, lizards, snakes, hedgehogs, and forest mice.

Pictured and named: borowik szlachetny ‘boletus mushroom’, muchomor czerwony ‘red toadstool’; konwalia majowa ‘mayflower’, pióropusznik strusi ‘ostrich fern’; jeż europejski ‘western hedgehog’, ropucha szara ‘common toad’, padalec zwychajna ‘common slowworm’

Ściółka Mulch

Ściółka to warstwa, która leźy bezpośrednio na glebie. Tworzą ją opadłe liście, szyszki, owoce, nasiona oraz martwe szczątki roślin i zwierząt. Występują tu drobne organizmy, odźywiające się szczątkami organicznymi tj. bakterie, grzyby, glony, pajęczaki, wije.
Mulch is a layer that lies directly on top of the soil. It consists of fallen leaves, cones, fruits, seeds and dead remains of plants and animals. There are small organisms that feed on organic remains, such as bacteria, fungi, algae, arachnids, and myriapods.

Pictured and named: mrówka rudnica ‘red ant’, żuki leśne ‘dung beetle’, ślimak winniczek ‘vine snail’, skulica i krocionóg ‘types of millipedes’

images here

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Polish Realia: Beneficial Insects

Owady Pozyteczne Beneficial Insects

Ciekawostka Trivia
Mrówki rudnice nazywane są sanitariuszami lasu. Zjadają bowiem owady będące szkodnikami lasu, ograniczając tym samym ich liczebność. Ponadto pełnia rolę czyściceli, usuwając chore osobniki i martwe szczątki zwierząt.
Red ants are called the sanitary workers of the forest. Because they eat other insects that are forest pests, thereby limiting their numbers. In addition, they fill a role as scavengers, removing diseased individuals and dead animal remains. 

Sanitariusze / Sanitary workers: Mrówka rudnica / red ants; żuk leśny / dung beetles

Drapieżcy / Predators: Przekrasek mróweczka / ant beetles; Biedronka siedmiokropka / lady bugs; Biegacz skórzasty / carabus beetles

Pasożytnicze / Parasites: Gąsienicznik czarny / ichneumon wasps; Bzyg prążkowany / marmalade hoverfly

Zapylacze / Pollinators: Pszczoła miodna / honey bees; Trzmiel ziemny / bumble bees

Próchnojady / Wood-eaters: Dyląż garbarz / root borers; Jelonek rogacz /stag beetles

image here

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Polish Realia: Dead Trees in the Woods

Martwe Drewno w Lesie Dead Wood in the Forest

Martwe drewno jest naturalnym i niezbędnym wskładnikiem ekosystemów leśnych. Pozostające w lesie, obumierające i martwe drzewa a także ich fragmenty nie bezwartościowy materiał zaśmiecający las. Jest to nadzwyczaj istotny dla prawidłowego funkcjonowania ekosystemu leśnego zespół mikrośrodowisk życia i miejsc schronienia się lub gniazdowania ogromnej liczby gatunków organizmów żywych (zwierząt, roślin, grzybów).
Dead wood is a natural and essential component of forest ecosystems. Dying and dead trees remaining in the forest, as well as their fragments, are not worthless material littering the forest. It is an extremely important for the proper functioning of the forest ecosystem, a set of microenvironments of life and places of shelter or nesting of a huge number of species of living organisms (animals, plants, fungi).

Martwe drewno może mieć różną postać. Od obumarłych konarów na żywych drzewach poprzez obumierające drzewa, do martwych, leżących na ziemi lub stojących drzew różnej wielkości, leżących na ziemi drobnych gałęzi, wykrotów i złomów. Stopień zaawansowania rozkładu drewna również może być bardzo zróżnicowany. Od drewna jeszcze w pełni świeżego do silnie zbutwiałego przyjmującego postać murszu, przerośniętego grzybnią i korzeniami roślin oraz porośniętego poduchami mchów.
Dead wood can take many forms. From dead branches on living trees, through dying trees, to dead, fallen or standing trees of various sizes, small branches and debris lying on the ground. The degree of advancement of wood decomposition can also vary greatly. From wood still fully fresh to heavily rotten in the form of mulch, overgrown with mycelium and plant roots and overlaid with moss cushions.

Te różnorodne mikrośrodowiska są miejscem życia nadzwyczaj szerokiego spektrum organizmów. Grzyby rozpoczynają i cały czas uczestniczą w procesie rozkładu drewna aż do jego całkowitego rozpadu. Owady i inne bezkręgowce z wielu grup systematicznych żywią się martwym drewnem w różnych stadiach jego rozkładu lub zjadają zasiedlające je inne organizme. Natomiast zwierzęta wykorzystują martwe próchniejące drewno jako miejsce gniazdowania, schronienia, bądz zimowania.
These diverse microenvironments are home to an extremely wide range of organisms. Fungi begin and participate in the process of decomposition of wood until it completely decomposes. Insects and other invertebrates from many systematic groups feed on dead wood at various stages of its decomposition or eat other organisms that inhabit it. On the other hand, animals use dead rotting wood as a place to nest, shelter, or winter.

Martwe drzewa tak naprawdę nie są martwe, bowien żyją życiem ogromnej liczby zasiedlających je organizmów.
Dead trees are not truly dead, because they live the lives of a huge number of organisms that inhabit them.

Ciekawostka! Trivia!
Kloda świerkowa kłada się przecętnie przez 60-80 lat, rozkład starych pni dębowych trwa często nawet 100 lat. Proces rozkładu przebiega szybciej w miejscach wilgotnych i na drewnie leżącym na gruncie niż w miejscach suchych i na drzewie obumarłym jeszcze stojącym.
A spruce log lies for 60-80 years, the decomposition of old oak trunks often lasts up to 100 years. The decomposition process takes place faster in damp places and on wood lying on the ground than in dry places and on dead wood still standing.

Martwe i obumierające drzewa wykorzystywane są przez szereg gatunków ptaków – dziuplaków. Dzięcioły w takich właśnie drzewach wykuwają dziuple a inne dziuplaki zasiedlają je i wykorzystują jako miejsce gniazdowania i schronienia.
Dead and dying trees are used by a number of species of birds – hole-nesters. Woodpeckers carve hollows in such trees, and other hole-nesters inhabit them and use them as nesting and sheltering places.

image here

Animals pictured:
Rębacz pstry ‘ribbed pine borer, spotted sawfly’ Rhagium inquisitor
Gmachówka drzewotoczna ‘carpenter ant’ Campolotus ligniperda
Dyląż garbąrz ‘longhorn beetle’ Prionus sp.
Kruszczyca złotawka ‘golden buckthorn’ Cetonia aurata
Jelonek rogacz ‘stag beetle’ Lucanus cervus
Paśnik palączasty ‘bowhead beetle’ Plagionotus arcuatus

Ryjówka aksamitna ‘common shrew’ Sorex araneus
Jeż europejski ‘western hedgehog’ Erinaceus europaeus

Dzięciol duży ‘great spotted woodpecker’ Dendrocopos major
Dzięciol zielony ‘green woodpecker’ Picus viridis

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Polish Insect Terms: Ants, Ladybugs

A recent compilation from Culture.pl contains a long article on entomological etymology. Here are some excerpts on ants and ladybugs:

Mrówka (ant) is a word from the 15th century, the Polish name for an insect known to entomologists as Formica. It comes from the Proto-Slavic *morvь / *morvьjь, related to names in other Indo-European languages. Both the Polish mrówka, the Greek mýrmēks and the Spanish hormiga derive from the Proto-Indo-European root *morṷo- / *morṷĭ-. Etymologists explain the meaning of the word mrówka as ‘a biting bug’.

In the 16th century, the word mrowie (a large cluster of ants) was derived from mrówka and today means ‘a multitude, a group’ (e.g. of people), as well as ‘shivers, goosebumps’. Ants are associated with the fact that they build large anthills and can carry large objects that are much heavier than they are. These insects, like bees, are a symbol of industriousness – someone can be said to be pracowity jak mrówka (as industrious as an ant). Another important feature is their size. You can say that something is małe jak mrówka (as small as an ant). There is also a saying, włożyć kij w mrowisko (poke a stick into an anthill), that is, ‘to stir up trouble, to irritate’.

One of the most numerous families among bugs are beetles. The bug Coccinella septempunctata has been known as biedronka, the ladybug, since the 19th century. Earlier, in the 17th century, the name was biedrunka and had a number of dialectal variants, e.g. biedruszka / biedrawka / biedrzonka / biedrzynka and others. The ladybug’s characteristic appearance, regular dots on its chitinous cover, which according to a naive view of the world indicate their age, allows us to explain the connection of the Polish name biedronka with the dialectal word biedrona, the term for a spotted cow. Therefore, the derivative biedronka with the suffix –ka would mean ‘small cow’. This etymology is supported by other words, including: bierawa,the name of a cow with spots around its hips, back or belly; biedrawy, the name of an ox with patches around its hips; biedrzysty, meaning spotted. According to Wiesław Boryś, the basis was the adjective *bedrъ ‘having spots on its hips’ or ‘spotted, mottled, piebald’, from the Proto-Slavic *bedro-, Polish biodro, the hip.

The etymology of biedronka as a small cow would also find an explanation in another name for this animal, boża krówka, God’s cow, or formerly, krówka Maryi Panny, Virgin Mary’s cow. The ladybug was considered a gift sent from God and was supposed to bring people happiness, hence the children’s rhyme ‘biedroneczko, leć do nieba, przynieś mi kawałek chleba’ (ladybug, fly to heaven, bring me a piece of bread). The perception of the ladybug as a mediator between the human world and the divine world has also been established in other languages: English (ladybird, Virgin Mary’s bird), American (ladybug, Virgin Mary’s bug), German der Marienkäfer, Virgin Mary’s beetle), French la bete a bon Dieu, God’s little animal, or even in the name used in Argentina, vaquita de San Antonio, St Anthony’s cow) and in another Slavic language, Russian, божья коровка (bozh’ya korovka, God’s cow). These are just a few examples demonstrating that the dialectal names of the ladybug in many languages, which later became common terms, consist of an element related to the divine world, as well as an element naming another animal – analogously to the Polish compound boża krówka.

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Polish Insect Terms: Flies, Mosquitoes

A recent compilation from Culture.pl contains a long article on entomological etymology. Here are some excerpts on flies and mosquitoes.

Remaining in the circle of bugs from the family of flies, let’s discuss one of their most popular representatives, the housefly (Latin name, Musca domestica). The word mucha has been present in Polish since the 15th century and is a general Slavic word. It comes from the Proto-Slavic *mucha, *mous-ā, ‘fly’.

Andrzej Bańkowski describes the meaning of the word mucha as ‘unclear’. For this word, he seeks the etymology in the Sanskrit root of the verb muṣ-, ‘to steal, to rob’. Wiesław Boryś, on the other hand, believes that it is a word with an onomatopoeic root, from the sound made by flying insects, based on *mū- / *mus-. This root was expanded by the suffix -sā, which then became the regular suffix -cha. Similarly, the same transformation occurred in the suffix of the word pchła (flea).

The word mucha is also used to name other bugs, e.g. a szkląca mucha (glazed [lantern] fly) is another expression for a firefly. The diminutive of the word fly (muszka) is very popular and is the source of, among other things, the common name for the diminutive fruit fly: muszka wocówkaMucha also creates many word compounds: for example, muchomór, a toadstool is a fungus that poisons and kills flies, and a muchołówka, flytrap, is a carnivorous plant that eats flies.

For humans, a fly is not a useful animal but rather a nuisance. You can say about someone that they are as pesky as a fly: natrętny jak mucha. Flies are associated with dirt and stench, so when something is described as mucha nie siada, ‘a fly won’t land on it’, it means that it is ‘successful, perfect, impeccable’, so clean that a fly does not want to be there. When someone is lured by something, strives to achieve something, it is said that they fly to something / someone like a fly to glue / to honey: jak mucha na lep / do miodu. On the other hand, ruszać się jak mucha w mazi / smole / miodzie, to move like a fly in goo, tar, honey, means ‘to do something slowly, sluggishly, to be lazy’. Ginąć / padać jak muchy, to die / to fall like flies, means ‘en masse’. One can also have muchy w nosie, flies up your nose, ‘to be in a bad mood’.

Another useless insect that makes people’s lives miserable is komar (the mosquito). The earlier form of the name for this insect is komor; Franciszek Sławski provides the variant forms kumar, kumor. This term functioned in many local and personal names (e.g. the towns of Komorowice, Komorowo, Komorów). It was not until the 19th century that the name with the suffix -ar became popular: the mosquito, popularized by, among others, writers from the Borderlands – Adam Mickiewicz devoted a poem to this bug. In the poem ‘Komar, niewielkie licho’ (The mosquito, little devil), he described a situation that is also probably familiar to everyone today: …

All the forms mentioned above come from the Proto-Slavic word *komarъ (or *komarь with a soft yer), which in turn comes from the Proto-Indo-European onomatopoeic root *kem- / *kom-, ‘to buzz’. Wiesław Boryś explains the original meaning of komar as ‘(persistently) buzzing bug’.

A mosquito is primarily associated with annoyance, intrusiveness – hence you can przekomarzać się z kimś (trade barbs with someone), which Brückner translates as ‘to irritate someone like a mosquito’. You can also say about someone that they ucięli komara (lit., cut a mosquito), meaning to take a short nap, usually without getting enough sleep.

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Polish Insect Terms: Bees, Wasps

A recent compilation from Culture.pl contains a long article on entomological etymology. Here are some excerpts on bees and wasps.

In a survey conducted by linguist Marcin Maciołek for his doctoral thesis Kształtowanie się nazw owadów w języku polskim. Procesy nominacyjne a językowy obraz świata (The Formation of Names of Bugs in Polish: Nominative Processes and the Linguistic Image of the World) in 2012, some respondents indicated the bee as an example of a typical owad (bug). Although the astonishing diversity of this group of animals does not allow for the identification of a single, prototypical member, the bee is certainly one of its more charming representatives. Due to their usefulness, bees evoke a rather positive attitude in humans, evidenced, among other things, by the frequently used diminutive pszczółka (little bee). For centuries, they have been a symbol of industriousness, as evidenced, among other things, by citations from the Bible. The bee was also considered a divine, a sacred animal, which is why in Polish the word used for their dying is umrzeć (used for humans), not zdechnąć (used for animals). The designation of a bee was sometimes associated with a taboo: it could not be spoken of after dusk lest the evil powers of the night harm it, hence the interchangeable terms boży robak (God’s worm) / święty robak (holy worm).

The word pszczoła has Proto-Slavic origins, probably even Proto-Indo-European – if we go back that far in the language, we will discover that the Polish pszczoła and the English bee most probably come from the same Proto-Indo-European form *bhiquelā! In Proto-Slavic, the proto-word was *bьčela or *bъčela (they differ in the quality of the yer – a Proto-Slavic vowel). If we wanted to discover the etymology of Polish pszczoła (bee), we’d discover that it is an onomatopoeic word: probably the Proto-Slavic root was an onomatopoeic *bъk-, *bъč-, related to the Proto-Slavic verb *bučati, brzęczeć – to buzz (about bugs). The suffix *-ela would indicate the meaning of *bъčela as ‘that which buzzes’.

The name of this bug was initially pczoła in Poland, with the consonant š (sz) eventually inserted. Language strives for economy, also in terms of articulation, hence the consonant group pč- (pcz-) was expanded to pšč- due to the desire to avoid excessive articulatory energy input. This also explains why the spelling of the word pszczoła is an orthographic exception, since there was never any ‘r’ in this word that could become a ‘rz’.

Wasps do not enjoy as good a reputation as their ‘cousins’, the bees. They are not useful from the point of view of humans – they are considered negative, dangerous, unpleasant bugs, in contrast to the hard-working, holy bees. An important feature of wasps, one with which they are usually most associated, is their painful sting. You can also say about someone that they are as evil as a wasp or as sharp as a wasp (zły jak osa and cięty jak osa, respectively]. Due to the gender of this noun in Polish, this term is usually used in relation to women. Only a woman can have a wasp waist – this expression is associated with the characteristic narrowing of the body structure of this bug. Unlike other phraseologisms related to wasps, however, it does not have a negative connotation but is rather a compliment.

The etymology of osa is not related to its ‘character traits’, however. It has Proto-Indo-European roots, and the names of this family in other languages ​​indicate a common origin reconstructed by researchers to Proto-Indo-European *ṷobhsā, osa. Baltic, Romance and Germanic languages ​​have preserved the initial v-, so for example, in Lithuanian, osa is vapsvà; in Latin it is vespa; and in English it is ‘wasp’. As Maciołek writes, in accordance with the law of the open syllable in the Proto-Slavic languages [all syllables had to end in a vowel, ed.], the intra-word consonant group *-bs- was simplified into -s-, hence the Proto-Indo-European *ṷobhsā became the Proto-Slavic *(v)osa, and today in Polish it has the form osa.

Andrzej Bańkowski sees the meaning of the name osa in the verb *webh-, ‘to weave’, which is related to the fact that wasps weave their nests from plant fibres. Wasp nests are a very important place for them, and they defend it fiercely. Maciej Rak cites a regional saying: włożyć kij w gniazdo os (‘to put a stick in a wasps’ nest’, meaning ‘to irritate, to provoke a bad situation’; in general language, this saying is related to ants: włożyć kij w mrowisko, ‘to put a stick in an anthill’).

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Scottish vs. English Universities, 1867

From Storyteller: The Life of Robert Louis Stevenson, by Leo Damrosch (Yale University Press, 2025), Kindle pp. 102-104:

In November 1867, just as he was turning seventeen, Louis entered the University of Edinburgh as the first step toward a professional career, and his life changed dramatically. It was the same year in which the Stevensons took their lease on Swanston Cottage….

As an undergraduate Louis continued to live at home; there was no residential housing at the university, and students from out of town had to rent lodgings. All the same, he enjoyed plenty of freedom, unlike students at Oxford and Cambridge, who had compulsory chapel and lectures, wore caps and gowns, and were punished if they stayed out after curfew. It’s notable that those were the only two universities in all of England. In Scotland, in addition to Edinburgh, which was the most recently founded, there were also St Andrews, Glasgow, and Aberdeen. In an essay some years later Louis celebrated his university’s freedom and urban energy.

The English lad goes to Oxford or Cambridge; there, in an ideal world of gardens, to lead a semi-scenic life, costumed, disciplined and drilled by proctors. Nor is this to be regarded merely as a stage of education; it is a piece of privilege besides, and a step that separates him further from the bulk of his compatriots. At an earlier age the Scottish lad begins his greatly different experience of crowded class-rooms, of a gaunt quadrangle, of a bell hourly booming over the traffic of the city to recall him from the public-house where he has been lunching, or the streets where he has been wandering fancy-free. His college life has little of restraint, and nothing of necessary gentility…. Our tasks ended, we of the North go forth as freemen into the humming, lamplit city. At five o’clock you may see the last of us hiving from the college gates, in the glare of the shop windows, under the green glimmer of the winter sunset. The frost tingles in our blood; no proctor lies in wait to intercept us; till the bell sounds again we are the masters of the world.

As a master of the world, Louis declined to do much studying. He found the teaching formal and tedious, and was already accustomed to self-education. Besides, he was supposedly there to learn engineering, which he already knew he disliked. That engineering was taught at all made Edinburgh very different from the English universities, where the curriculum was heavily classical and mathematical. At Cambridge Isaac Newton, one of the greatest physicists of all time, had been a professor of mathematics, not physics.

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Finding the North Pacific Way East

From Conquering The Pacific: An Unknown Mariner and the Final Great Voyage of the Age of Discovery, by Andrés Reséndez (HarperCollins, 2021), Kindle pp. 189-192:

Not everything, however, was against the San Lucas expeditionaries. By paralleling the coast of Japan, they were riding the most powerful current in the Pacific Ocean. The Japanese call it Kuroshio, or “Black Current,” owing to its characteristic cobalt-blue color. An integral part of the North Pacific Gyre, the Kuroshio Current is an enormous ribbon of warm water that starts in the Philippine Sea, brushes against the coast of Taiwan, and moves rapidly up the eastern side of Japan, snaking and pushing against the cold waters coming from the Bering Sea. After veering off from Japan, the current continues eastward for about a thousand miles as a free jet stream known as the Kuroshio Extension, eventually feeding into the larger North Pacific Gyre. This explains why historically some Japanese ships disabled in storms have washed up in North America. This may have occurred prior to 1492, although no hard evidence has surfaced. More convincingly, scholars have estimated that between the sixteenth century and the middle of the nineteenth, more than a thousand Japanese vessels were swept out to sea. Among them, a handful are known to have made landfall in the Americas. A rice cargo ship called the Tokujômaru, for instance, ran into a storm that broke its rudder, causing it to drift for sixteen months until running aground in 1813 near Santa Barbara, California, with only the captain and two crew members still alive. Nearly twenty years later, a similar incident occurred when a merchant ship bound for Tokyo, the Hojunmaru, was knocked off course by a typhoon, only to reappear after fifteen months, rudderless and dismasted, in Cape Flattery, the most northwesterly point in the continental United States.

The San Lucas voyagers reported an unexpected abundance of life in that part of the ocean, an observation that confirms their whereabouts. The collision of the warm Kuroshio Current with subarctic water produces eddies of plankton that are visible even in satellite images. In turn, the plankton attract a variety of animals. The Spanish expeditionaries saw “pig fish as large as cows” and marveled at the “dogs of the sea with their paws and tails and ears . . . and one of them came aboard and barked at us” (almost certainly sea lions, with external ear flaps and very vocal, in contrast to true seals). Quite fittingly, the men of the San Lucas also crossed paths with the greatest migratory species of all. “Black shearwaters followed us, shrieking all day and night,” Don Alonso recalled, “and their cries were very unsettling because no sailor had ever heard them like that.” Sooty shearwaters pursue a breathtaking figure-eight migration spanning the entire Pacific. As they range from New Zealand to Alaska and from Chile to Japan, these noisy birds dive for food in some of the most productive regions of the Pacific, including the plankton-rich eddies off the coast of Japan, where some must have spotted the San Lucas slowly making its way in a northeasterly direction.

Climbing to forty degrees and up to forty-three degrees of northern latitude, the pioneers overshot the warm waters of the Kuroshio Current. They had journeyed farther north into the great ocean than any other Europeans, sailing through frigid waters coming from the Bering Sea. Only Magellan’s Trinidad had plied this part of the Pacific more than forty years earlier, where a storm had dismasted it and forced the last survivors to turn back. Extreme cold—that old nemesis of previous return attempts—became a serious concern for the crew members of the San Lucas, especially because they were missing most of their clothes after the washing party had to abandon them in Mindanao months earlier.

The San Lucas voyagers now faced “the greatest cold of winter,” as the captain put it, “even though it was the middle of summer in June and July.” For thirty days the sky turned so dark and stormy that they were unable to see the Sun or the stars. On June 11, snow fell on the deck and did not melt until noon. Lamp oil became so frozen that the bottle in which it was kept had to be warmed over a fire, “and it still came out in pieces like lard.” Modern historians have sometimes seized on such unlikely details to discount the veracity of Don Alonso’s account. “Porpoises as big as cows present no difficulty,” wrote one of these skeptics, “but it is unlikely that cooking oil would freeze in mid-summer.” Lamp oil freezes at around fifteen degrees Fahrenheit, and the process can start even at higher temperatures. Sailing by the Aleutian Islands in June, especially during the Little Ice Age, would force such doubters to amend their opinions.

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Discovering the Atlantic Gyres

From Conquering The Pacific: An Unknown Mariner and the Final Great Voyage of the Age of Discovery, by Andrés Reséndez (HarperCollins, 2021), Kindle pp. 114-116:

The North Atlantic Gyre was a major find, but it turned out to be only half of the story. In the 1470s, the Portuguese crossed the equator and stumbled on a second gyre in the South Atlantic. Once again, it was necessity that prompted the discovery of this second great wheel of winds and currents. As the Portuguese sailors could not make any further progress in their Atlantic explorations by staying close to the African coast, on account of the contrary elements, they were forced again into the open Atlantic, this time venturing in a counterclockwise direction, away from the continent until practically crossing the entire ocean and nearing the coast of Brazil. This detour enabled Portuguese vessels finally to catch the southward-moving Brazil current and eventually to double back east toward the tip of Africa. This volta around the South Atlantic—a maneuver similar to the one in the North Atlantic but longer—could take up to three months of sailing without sight of land.

As early as 1500, Vasco da Gama, the great discoverer of the sea route from Portugal to India, penned a concise but unmistakable characterization of this second volta in the instructions that he left to his successor: “You should always go around the sea until reaching the Cape of Good Hope.” The recipient of such sound advice was Pedro Álvares Cabral, who followed da Gama’s words so closely that he drifted to the coast of Brazil, where he spent a few days before continuing eastward to India. Over the years, Portuguese seamen became familiar with the contours of the South Atlantic Gyre, as is evident in the so-called roteiros (derroteros in Spanish, rutters in English, routiers in French, and so on), or sailing instructions, occasionally penned by pilots to facilitate the task of future navigators. The South Atlantic roteiros alerted pilots to approach the coast of Brazil well to the south of Cabo de Santo Agostinho; otherwise they risked being knocked off course by the currents and pushed into the Caribbean, a disastrous turn of events that could delay the voyage by several months. Farther south along the Brazilian coast, pilots were warned to steer clear of the Abrolhos, a group of islands and reefs off the present-day state of Bahia. (“Abrolhos” comes from abre olhos, or “open your eyes” in Portuguese.) Once the fleets doubled back toward the tip of Africa, the only intervening land was Tristan da Cunha, a group of remote islands in the South Atlantic, first sighted in 1506, precisely during the early exploration of the South Atlantic Gyre.

Sixteenth-century navigators probably did not understand that Earth’s rotation is what causes the ocean gyres. It would not be until the early nineteenth century when Gaspard-Gustave de Coriolis worked out the mathematics of the forces in a rotating system. Yet five hundred years ago, Portuguese pilots clearly referred to the ventos gerais (general winds) to distinguish them from more localized and variable winds. They also knew that these ventos gerais formed two rotating systems on either side of the equator. “When you have passed the equator and reached the general winds, you need to go with them for as long as possible,” a pilot named Bernardo Fernandes counseled in 1550, “because with them you will reach the Cape of Good Hope latitude.” Evidently seamen like Fernandes had a clear mental image of the gyres.

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Magellan in Spain

From Conquering The Pacific: An Unknown Mariner and the Final Great Voyage of the Age of Discovery, by Andrés Reséndez (HarperCollins, 2021), Kindle pp. 52-55:

Columbus’s exploits loom so large in our understanding of the past that other great discoveries recede into the background. In truth, any reasonable observer at the turn of the sixteenth century would have conceded that, even after Columbus’s famous voyages, Portugal’s lead in the global race had widened until becoming almost unassailable. Portuguese navigators reached the tip of Africa in 1488 and found the route to India a decade later. King Manuel I of Portugal took pleasure in writing lengthy letters to the Spanish monarchs, his in-laws and rivals, informing them, “Our Lord has miraculously wished India to be found” and telling them about the spices, precious stones, elephants, exotic peoples, and the immensely profitable trade carried on there. “We are still awaiting news from the twenty-five ships that we sent the previous year [1502],” Manuel gloated to Ferdinand and Isabella in one of his letters, “and after they come back in September there will be time to send some more.”

In the meantime, Spain could point to only a few Caribbean islands and inklings of an unknown continent, but no precious spices, porcelain, or silk. The new lands did offer some gold, but they never replaced the original quest of finding a western approach to the incalculable riches of the Far East. Spaniards explored the continent blocking their way, looking for a passage that would connect the Atlantic with the Pacific. They came up empty-handed until Fernão de Magalhães—a Portuguese defector like the Afro-Portuguese pilot Lope Martín a generation later—put Spain back in the race. Ferdinand Magellan had come of age during Portugal’s torrid expansion into Asia in the 1500s. Yet he had a falling-out with the Portuguese crown and went knocking on neighboring doors. It is difficult to overstate the significance of Magellan’s move to Spain.

Magellan caught up with the roving Spanish court at the town of Valladolid. For someone accustomed to the sound of waves and the proximity of sailboats, it must have been strange to have to journey to the middle of Iberia to propose a maritime venture in a town surrounded by agricultural fields and interminable plains. He did not arrive alone but was accompanied by two brothers, Rui and Francisco Faleiro, both cosmographers whose reputations exceeded Magellan’s. The trio complemented one another well. Magellan came across as a man of action who had fought in India, Malaysia, and North Africa, while the Faleiros were armchair academics. As they waited for an audience with the Spanish king in February and March of 1518, the Portuguese visitors grew unsettled by what they heard. The new monarch, Charles I, was an awkward eighteen-year-old who had come from Belgium just a few months before and had great difficulty communicating in Spanish let alone Portuguese. Worse, the trio had to tread carefully in a court riven by a power struggle between Charles’s advisers recently arrived from Belgium and the old Spanish officials from the previous monarch.

Interestingly, during the early negotiations Rui Faleiro rather than Magellan emerged as the leading voice. The older of the two Faleiro brothers, Rui was deferentially referred to as a bachiller (or bacharel in Portuguese), the highest university degree one could get at the time. Before leaving Portugal he may have been considered for a new chair in astronomy established at the oldest university in the kingdom (what is now the University of Coimbra) by the Portuguese king himself. It was the highest position in the field. One of the reasons that perhaps impelled Rui Faleiro to join Magellan in Spain was being passed over for this prestigious appointment; academic rivalries and pettiness were already alive and well in the sixteenth century! In spite of this setback, and notwithstanding a rumor that “he was possessed by a familial demon and in fact knew nothing about astrology,” Rui Faleiro remained a top European cosmographer. Sixteenth-century Spanish chronicler Gonzalo Fernández de Oviedo described Rui Faleiro as “a great man in matters of cosmography, astrology, and other sciences and humanities.” There is little doubt that he was extremely accomplished if mercurial and mentally unstable. Rui’s younger brother Francisco Faleiro was just as talented and would go on to find long-term employment in Spain as a leading nautical expert. Together the two Faleiros and Magellan were very credible petitioners.

On the day of the audience, Magellan and Rui Faleiro arrived not with charts as would have been expected but with “a globe that was very well painted and showed the entire world, and on it Magellan traced the route that he would follow.” The two petitioners explained that they intended to cross from one ocean to the other “through a certain strait that they already knew about.” Even though the globe was detailed, the portion of South America where the strait was supposed to be had been left intentionally blank. Magellan and Faleiro had evidently taken some precautions in case anyone present at the audience should wish to steal their project.

Their knowledge of a passage between the oceans—the alpha and omega of many New World explorations—would have been more than enough for the royal sponsorship. But Magellan and Faleiro went further. As one witness at the audience recounted, “They offered to demonstrate that the Moluccas [Spice Islands] from where the Portuguese take spices to their country are on the side of the world that belongs to Spain, as agreed by the Catholic Monarchs and King Juan of Portugal.” The 1494 Treaty of Tordesillas had established a line of demarcation running from pole to pole through the Atlantic but did not contemplate extending the line to the other side of the world. As Portugal and Spain, however, had continued to sail in opposite directions, such an antimeridian had become necessary. Measuring longitude or east-west distance was still extraordinarily difficult in the early sixteenth century, so no one knew quite where to draw this line in the distant Pacific. All the same, in the early 1510s the Portuguese had planted trading forts in Malaysia and the Spice Islands while Spain had stood by helplessly. Yet in the winter of 1518, Magellan and Faleiro had become persuaded that the Spice Islands were actually on the Spanish side, a conclusion all the more startling in Spain because it was coming from these top Portuguese navigators and cosmographers.

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