An Ocean of Troubles

Finally underway, the 1620 voyage of the Mayflower took 65 days, from September 6 (we today would say 16) to November 11 (we would say 21), from Plymouth, England, to present-day Provincetown Harbor. [SEM, OPP, pg. 60] So, this coming week of 2020 is the 400th anniversary of the arrival of the Mayflower and the Pilgrims and the rest of the British passengers in John Smith’s New England. The story of the struggle to determine the location of their new colony is yet to come. Meanwhile, let’s look at what they have recently overcome, at the challenges of the 65-day voyage directly across the stormy, fall-season Atlantic.

William Bradford would wait 10 years before he wrote down the first 10 chapters we find in Of Plymouth Plantation. In Chapter IX, he recalls the voyage and their safe arrival. For a number of days, the good ship had decent weather and “a prosperous wind,” an encouragement to all. But, which was to be expected, “many were afflicted with seasickness.” That’s miserable enough on a modern cruise ship, but imagine families crammed together in a small ship with only the basic resources of early 17th-Century sailing. That prospect alone, aside from death itself, required bravery, endurance, and determination.

The “Proud and Profane Seaman”

Bradford next writes that he “may not omit here a special work of God’s providence.” The ship’s crew featured a “proud and very profane,” young and haughty, able-bodied seaman who mocked the sickness of the Pilgrim passengers, cursed them daily, and boasted that “he hoped to help cast half of them overboard before they came to their journey’s end, and to make merry with what they had.” If he were “gently reproved” by any of the faithful Pilgrims, he would “curse and swear most bitterly.” It’s puzzling that such behavior was not corrected by Master Jones, or any of the ship’s officers.

But, writes Bradford, an interesting turn of events intervened, which the future Pilgrim leader attributed to Divine providence.

…it pleased God before they came half seas over, to smite this young man with a grievous disease, of which he died in a desperate manner, and so was himself the first that was thrown overboard.

It seems that no one else in those close and somewhat squalid quarters suffered the malady. It was “an astonishment to his fellows,” recalls Bradford, and, instead of blaming the Pilgrims or cursing God themselves, the crewmen “noted it to be the just hand of God upon him.”

History Teeters on a Cracked Wooden Beam

After days of “fair winds and weather,” the unruly, late-season Atlantic tested and schooled the Mayflower with cross winds and “fierce storms” which shook the ship “shroudly” (wickedly). Her “upper works” became “very leaky,” which had to mean even more discomfort for the passengers. They were “near half the seas over” when the fierce shaking bowed and cracked a main beam in the midships. Passengers and crew alike were in fear of the ship’s seaworthiness and their very lives. Could they go on? Should they turn around and retreat to England? Could they make it, either direction? How would that have affected the history of America and even the World? This was a profound moment of decision.

The leaders consulted with Master Christopher Jones and his officers. Would to attempt to sail on “cast themselves into a desperate and inevitable peril?” Among the crew, there was “great distraction” and “difference of opinion.” But the Master and his officers knew the ship well, that its hull was strong and firm “under water.” It so happened that the Pilgrims had brought a great iron screw with them from Holland, and a plan was devised by the Master and the carpenter to use it to raise the beam into place, and, with a “post put under it, set firm in the lower deck and otherways bound,” the beam would hold. The crew then caulked the decks and upper works as best they could. The “working of the ship” in the water and wind would soon cause more leaking, but there “would otherwise be no great danger,” if they were cautious not to “overpress” the ship with her sails.

“So they committed themselves to the will of God and resolved to proceed,” concludes Bradford. History was back on course, and the Pilgrims, New England, and our American heritage were saved.

One Saved, One Lost

But the mighty Atlantic did not relent. She sent more storms, with winds so strong and seas so high that the Mayflower “could not bear a knot of sail.” The ship was forced to “hull” or “heave to” for days at a time, under very short sail, drifting with the wind. [SEM, OPP, pg 59] During such a time, a deck stroll by a vigorous and lively young man named John Howland threatened the lives of millions of future Americans. A roll or pitch of the ship threw young Howland into the angry sea. Somehow, he managed to grab hold of a rope (a “line” aboard ship) that connected to the topsail. The line (or “halyard,” as it was used to haul yards of sail up and down) hung overboard and “ran out at length.” Ten years later, Bradford recalled…

Yet he held his hold (though he was sundry fathoms under water) til he was hauled up by the same rope to the brim of the water, and then with a boat hook and other means got into the ship again and his life saved. And though he was something ill with it, yet he lived many years after and became a profitable member both in church and commonwealth.

According to Caleb Johnson at his MayflowerHistory.com, Howland was a manservant of John Carver, soon to be governor of the Pilgrim colony. Howland would soon sign the Mayflower Compact and later marry Elizabeth Tilley about 1624 and father 10 children, dying in early 1672 (or we would say 1673). Johnson names Presidents George Bush and George W. Bush and the wife of Teddy Roosevelt as prominent among Howland’s millions of descendants. Several Howland brothers also came to New England. Two became ancestors to Presidents Richard Nixon and Gerald Ford as well as Winston Churchill.

What if John had died? Would his brothers have come to New England if he had? So many people have a rope and a strong arm to thank, and Bradford would certainly add Providence to that list.

Only one passenger was lost during the scary and miserable voyage ~ a young servant to Samuel Fuller named William Button, just as they drew near the coast. We will never know what legacy Button would have produced.

The crew sighted land November 9 (or 19), 1620, rounded the fist of Cape Cod, and found safe harbor by November 11 (or 21). Bradford felt the need “to be brief,” so he records that he omitted “other things.” Though a whole new host of challenges arose before them, the Pilgrim group thanked God and remained committed to their Lord and their faith, according to Bradford, laying a significant portion of the foundation of a future nation and a free people.