A CRITIQUE ON THE REVISIONIST NARRATIVE

ON THE ALLEGED MAGELLAN’S ATTEMPTED LANDING ON CALICOAN ISLET, GUIUAN

 

By Msgr Lope C. Robredillo, SThD

In a previous essay, I made it plain that, in stark contrast to what is being peddled in social media, Ferdinand Magellan did not make any attempt to land on Calicoan island, Guiuan, Eastern Samar.  For one thing, this revisionist narrative about Calicoan does not have a single evidence from the primary sources, that is to say, from the testimonies of those who were with Magellan’s expedition; nor from old secondary sources, that is to say, from authors of old who used those primary sources.  For another, and even more important, this claim is ruled out by the record of the Genoese pilot, who stated that on March 16, the explorers were at 11°N latitude, which is far northern than Calicoan island. In addition, high lands that Magellan saw when they were at a distance from Samar island at 11°N latitude most likely refer to the mountains of Apoy, Mactaon and Bihag.  Moreover, by saying that the island had many shoals, they must have certainly reckoned with the long stretch of shores of the eastern portion of Samar, not simply the beaches of Calicaon islet.

 

Historians: Joyner, Robertson, da Mosto, Zaide and Gerona 

But, I have been asked: Are there historians who also claim that the island the expeditioners attempted to land at was the big island of Samar, not the islet of Calicoan?  Yes, of course, though they did not, like I did, specify in what part of Samar was the attempt made.  (It is only I who make the specific claim for the vicinity of what is now the old town of Hernani; but I will show that shortly.)  At 11°N latitude, Magellan and his crew were certainly not on the shores of Calicaon island.   Four are of significance to mention: Tim Joyner, James Alexander Robertson, Andrea da Mosto and Gregorio Zaide.

          Tim Joyner.  Joyner earned his PhD from the University of Washington and has been fascinated with Magellan for more than 20 years. As a professional oceanographer, and veteran of the Pacific theatre, he knows much, needless to say, about latitude and longitude in Magellan’s circumnavigation.  His book on Magellan and his voyage, entitled Magellan, with a foreword by the well-known historian, William Manchester, is highly acclaimed.  One reviewer, de Jesus, says: “I read this book several times and marvel at its great accessibility. It represents probably the best research effort on the great navigator. Joyner's annotated bibliography is extremely helpful to the serious student of navigation history in general and Magellan in particular. No other work in the past 50 years compares with the scholarly excellence of this book. A scholar who is just starting to get familiar with the story of the circumnavigation will find this book a complete pathway to all that must lie ahead for a thorough understanding of the greatest adventure at sea. This is a must book for both layman and scholar!” 

 Another reviewer, K. Schultz, remarks: “This book is the most definitive of the more recent books on Magellan that I have read and history buffs should enjoy it. Details of Magellan's Armada's voyage are relatively limited. Few crew members survived, and even fewer wrote of their experiences. Mr. Joyner does an excellent job of bringing together all known data to present what likely actually happened. Where there is uncertainty, he will say so, and offer alternative explanations.” 

 

 

          In describing Magellan’s try at landing on Samar, Tim Joyner, on page 176 of his book, Magellan, recounts: “On March 16, 1521, at 11°N, after sailing west by south for a week, the mountains of Samar rose above the horizon ahead.  Pigafetta wrote that Samar was 300 leagues from Guam, a fourteen percent underestimate.  The actual distance is about 1,000 nautical miles (350 leagues).  Having sighted land on the day of the Feast of Saint Lazarus, Magellan’s name for the archipelago of which it was a part was San Lazaro.  Today, we call those islands Philippines.”  He continues: “The reef along the coast of Samar prevented Magellan from attempting a landing, so the squadron sailed southward until it passed the reef-bound cape now known as Sungi Point. Directly ahead lay the island of Suluan…” 

          Nothing from this paragraph, to be sure, can one deduce that Magellan ever tried to land on Calicoan islet.  So no one can twist what the author says, and revise what has been traditionally learned from history books, here is his cartographic delineation of the passage from Guam to Samar on page 202 of his book:

 

          This cartographic illustration clearly demonstrates that Magellan sought to land not on Calicoan, but on the shores between Maydolong and Gen. MacArthur.  How did Joyner wind up with such a representation?  The obvious answer is that he considered the Genoese Pilot as an important source.  According to this primary source, the Armada de Malucco was at 11°N on March 16, 1521 when they made the attempt.  Such position at sea is certainly impossible to reconcile with the claim that Calicoan island was ever part of Magellan’s attempted landing. Here is the original text from the Genoese Pilot in his Roteiro, "Navegação e viagem que fez Fernando de Magalhães de Sevilha pera Maluco no ano de 1519 anos,":

          James Alexander Robertson.  To most historians of the Philippines, Robertson needs no introduction; no one has ever written on Philippine history during the Spanish Period without having consulted the 55-volume work, The Philippine Islands, 1493-1898, which he co-edited with Emma Helen Blair.  He was an academic historian, translator and archivist, and was the founding editor of the Hispanic American Historical Review. He served as Professor at Stetson University in Florida and archivist at Maryland State Archives. 

In footnote n.196, page 323 of his English translation of Antonio Pigafetta’s Il primo viaggio intorno al globo in The Philippine Islands, 1493-1898, Vol. 33, Robertson says: “Albo (Navarette, iv. P. 220) says that the first land seen was called Yunagan, ‘which extended north and had many bays,’ and that going south from there they anchored at a small island called Suluan.  At the former, ‘we saw some canoes, and went thither, but they fled.  That island lies in 9°40’ north latitude.’  The ‘Roteiro’ (Stanley p. 10) says that the first land seen was in ‘barely eleven degrees’ and that the fleet ‘went to touch at another further on, which appeared first.’  Two praus approached a boat sent ashore, whereupon the latter was ordered back, and the praus fled.”

Both Robertson and Joyner used the Genoese Pilot. And both of them assert that 0n March 16, the Armada was at 11°N latitude when the explorers went to touch on the island of Samar.  And, as I have emphasized in my previous essay, the island of Calicoan is far removed from the 11°N position at sea. 

Andrea da Mosto.  Apart from Joyner and Robertson, Andrea da Mosto likewise mentions the Genoese Pilot.  A member of the Venetian Deputation of Homeland History, he was later appointed as Director of the State Archives of Venice.  His works include the State Archives of Venice: general, historical, descriptive and analytical index (Rome, 1937) and the successful volume entitled The Doges of Venice with particular regard to their tombs (Venice, 1939).   He is best known around the world, however, for his highly regarded critical edition of Antonio Pigafetta’s Il Primo viaggio intorno al globo.  On page 89 of his critical edition of this work, published in Raccolta di Documenti e Studi, V:III (Rome, 1894), he, like Joyner and Robertson, states that Magellan, on the basis of the work of the Genoese Pilot, was at 11°N latitude at sea when he tried to land on Samar:

          Gregorio Zaide.  Our popular understanding of Magellan’s attempt to land on the big island of Samar is thus far from being wrong. For Gregorio Zaide, it could not have been Calicoan island.  Here’s how the author, in his The Pageant of Philippine History, 1, 184, puts it: “At dawn, Saturday, March 16, 1521, Magellan saw the lofty heights of Samar (Zamal) rising somnolently above the tropic mists.  This was the rediscovery—a ‘discovery’ to European people.  Magellan tried to land in Samar, but he could not approach the shore because of its dangerous shoals.  Sailing southward, he anchored off the little island of Suluan for a night.  The following morning, March 17^th, he made the first landing at the uninhabited island of Homonhon in the Leyte Gulf.”  Zaide, of course, does not need an introduction to most Filipino students of history, because his writings for college and high-school students were standard textbooks that dominated Philippine schools for many years. He wrote more than 50 books, was considered the Dean of Filipino Historiographers and served as President of the Philippine Historical Association for three terms.  His understanding of Magellan’s route is basically the same as that of Tim Joyner. 

A question, then, arises.  If, on March 16, Magellan tried to land on Samar at 11°N, what is the particular place where the attempt was made?  In my previous essay, I said that it is the vicinity of the old town of Hernani which lies at 11°15 N, according to the data provided by Felix Huerta in his book, Estado geográfico, topográfico, estadístico, histórico-religioso de la santa y apostólica Provincia de San Gregorio Magno,   p. 338:

The Authority of Historians 

Trust No Historian?  But having said that, I am aware, however, that interpretation of history, including mine, is always open to criticism and debate.  And it should be.  I recall that, in my younger years, I read an essay by the editor of now defunct Philippine Free Press who said, “Trust no historian!”  It has been claimed that when Charles V called for a volume of history from his library, he would say, “Give me my liar!”  I am not sure of the saying’s context, but this should certainly fire us up to be critical about accepting every statement that comes from the mouth of historians.   It does not follow, for example, that since some of them are well-known or have written books, or have traveled to Portugal or Spain, one should immediately swallow everything that proceeds from their mouth.  Quite the contrary, one must be perspicacious, one must inquire into the sources they referenced, because historical conclusions always depend on the premises provided by their sources.   Their ideas do not come from the inspiration of the Holy Spirit.  They are not, in other words, Gospel truth.

Two essays published before the celebration of the Philippine part of the 500^th anniversary of the circumnavigation of the world easily come to mind and make this point clear. One was from Ambeth Ocampo, the other from Michael Chua.  The former is a well-known popularizer of historical accounts, especially about Manila and some of our national heroes, the other a professor of history in Manila.  Now, should one accept as a correct scholarship that Guiuan was formerly Homonhon and that Magellan landed in Guiuan, simply because Ocampo stated that Magellan’s “expedition stopped at Guiuan, formerly Homonhon” in his article, “1521: Encounter or discovery?” published by the Philippine Daily Inquirer on March 12, 2021?  Must we now re-write history and affirm that Guiuan was indeed formerly Homonhon, and that Magellan landed in Guiuan?  Must one take it hook, line and sinker that “Pigafetta described Guiuan as ‘the watering-place of good signs’,” simply because it was said by Michael Chua, in his article “Panagtawo ha Homonhon (Humanity in Guiuan)” in The Manila Times, March 13, 2021?  Is Pigafetta now wrong about Homonhon because a historian from Manila made statements that contradict him?  Should we now revise Pigafetta’s account?

If anything, this should rather remind us all of what the greatest Catholic theologian, St. Thomas Aquinas, states: “Argument from authority based on human reason is the weakest” (Summa Theologica, 1a, 1, 8 ad 2).  Applied to the present context, this means that an argument in favor of the revisionist position of Calicoan island is the weakest and unconvincing argument if that assertion depends only on the reputation attached to the name of any historian who, for instance, has authored a famous book, or has written a thesis on the Vietnamese who stayed in an island in the Philippines, or has traveled to the archives of Lisbon and Madrid for a week or two.  What is important is the sound and substantial argument based on accepted sources of history, not the stature of a historian. 

          That is why I always welcome any one to challenge the arguments in this essay—not only from the best historians of Guiuan but also from elsewhere.  After all, knowledge widens and grows through criticism.

 

A Brief Critique of Gerona’s Account on Guiuan 

          It has been contended by a lady, an apologist for the revisionist Calicoan narrative, that the source of the claim that Magellan ventured to land on Calicoan islet is the book, Ferdinand Magellan: The Armada de Maluco and the European Discovery of the Philippines, authored by Danilo Gerona.  Convinced as she was of her seemingly impregnable stand, she asks rhetorically, “Shall we fight Prof. Dr. Danilo Gerona…?”  No, Ma’am, I have no desire to “fight” Gerona, and there is no need to.  I am too weak for that.  But the fact that he has researched abroad to write his book does not mean, of course, that we should read him uncritically or that we should gulp everything he says.  Rather, it is important to see whether he really made the claim, and whether we can accept the basis for that claim.

Danilo Madrid Gerona.  Gerona, who has a PhD in Philippine Studies from the University of the Philippines, is a Professor at Partido State University in Goa, Camarines Sur and an expert on Bicol history. As far as I know, he is the first Filipino to write a full book-length account on the Magellanic expedition, with special interest in the involvement of our forefathers in the encounter with the European expeditioners:

 

Now, the question: Does Gerona’s book lend support to Calicoan as the place where Magellan made an effort to land, as some Guiuananon propagandists would like us to believe?  And if it does, can the claim of Professor Gerona stand closer scrutiny? 

Let us examine this relevant page from the author’s book:

 

Preliminary Observations. [1] Strictly speaking, nowhere in his book does Gerona point to Ngolos, Calicoan island as the place where Magellan attempted to land.  Calicoan islet does not figure on this page.  It is not ethical to put words into his mouth. [2] Gerona, basing himself on the report of Francisco Albo, surmises that what the crew sighted was only its southernmost tail, “most probably” Guiuan.  Take note of the qualifier: “most probably.”  The author does not say that what the crew saw was Guiuan!   There is much difference between the two.  Besides, that is only his considered conjecture!  [3] But nowhere does he assert that an attempt to land was done in Guiuan.  He only speaks of what the crew sighted; attempting to land is a different thing. [4] But what is astounding is, why has the Guiuan of Gerona become Calicoan?  And why not Sapao or Pagnamitan?  Why in the world Ngolos in Calicaon?  Where is the evidentiary document?  Is Ngolos the particular place where Magellan and his crew tried to make a landing?  I wonder from what planet the evidence was taken, because the archives of Portugal and Madrid have stored none to support it. 

Meat of the Matter.  [1] But, let us go to the nitty-gritty of it all.  It is decisive to take note of Gerona’s sources for this.  His conjecture is based on the derrotero or log-book of Francisco Albo.  Here is the relevant portion of Albo’s report, p. 220 in Martin Fernandez de Navarette, Coleccion de los viages y descubrimientos:

[2] If one follows Albo, it is indeed a possibility that the part of Samar that Magellan saw was the southernmost tail, because that would be the most probable sight at 10°N.  But the problem with having only Albo as source is that: [3] Albo, as can be seen from that page of his log-book, does not have a record of the position of the fleet on March 16; the position at 10°N was on March 15.  Does that mean that they never changed their course until March 16?  Where is the evidence that they did not?  [4] It is from the Genoese Pilot that we come to discover that the expeditioners sailed north on March 16, and they were at 11°N.  In other words, whether what Magellan saw was the southern part of Samar (between Maydolong and General MacArthur, if the map of Joyner is used as a guide), or the southernmost tip of Samar island (Guiuan, and Candulom) depends on whether a historian uses only Albo for his source (aside from Pigafetta), or Albo and Genoese Pilot combined. Joyner, Robertson, da Mosto and Zaide made use of the latter.

[5] For the route taken by Magellan from Ladrones to Samar, Gerona cites what he calls a suggestion by Carlo Amoretti.  In the map of Amoretti, it is shown that at a distance far-off from the island of Samar, Magellan sailed south to the tip of the island.  Frankly, I am shocked that Gerona seemingly uncritically relies on Amoretti, because the latter is well-known for having mutilated Antonio Pigafetta’s journal in his Italian translation, Primo viaggio intorno al globo terracqueo ossia Ragguaglio della nauigazione alle Indie orientali per la via d' occidente fatta dal caualiere Antonio Pigafetta, 1800.  Here's a relevant page from his work, p. 58:

[9] In the particular case on Magellan’s voyage to Samar, Amoretti shows in his map on page 55 that Humunu, Abarein and Cenalu are all found near the tail of the island of Samar!  One can easily notice how erroneous the map is!  But that is not the most important issue.  The big problem is this: it seems to me that, as far as his translation of Pigafetta and his map are concerned, with regard to Magellan’s journey from Ladrones to the Philippines, Amoretti did not read the Genoese Pilot.  And I cannot find any hint that he ever consulted Francisco Albo in tracing the route of the Armada.  Both Francisco Albo and the Genoese Pilot do not appear in his footnotes.  I, therefore, ask myself: how far can one rely on Amoretti’s map, or accept his suggestion?  Moreover, his cartographic work does not really provide any hint whether Magellan ever made an attempt to land on Samar island.  Also, it is too small to let the reader know whether in fact he anchored off Suluan! His map appears to me to be a mere conjecture, even though it has been copied by several authors!  Just to let others judge his illustration of the route taken by Magellan in the Visayas, here is Amoretti’s map, p. 54:

Other Criticisms about Gerona’s Guiuan.  There are other points that Gerona states which appear debatable to me.  [1] In Albo’s log-book, it is clear that by Yunagan is meant the island of Samar.  But seemingly to shore up the conjecture that the derrotero refers to the southern tip of the island, Gerona suggests that, probably, “Yunuguan” is a Spanish misunderstanding of “Iyon na Guiuan.”  I find this proposal very imaginative and but contrived.  [a] In the first place, “Yunagan” is the word used by Albo, not “Yunuguan”.  [b] Second, “Iyon” is not a Samarnon word.  It does not appear in the oldest Samarnon dictionary of Matheo Sanchez, Vocabulario de la Lengua Bisaya (1711) and that of Antonio Sanchez de la Rosa, Diccionario Español-Bisaya para las Provincias de Samar y Leyte (1895).  [c] Third, “Iyon na Guiuan” does not really makes sense to any Samarnon; it is almost untranslatable.  [d] Fourth, Francisco Alzina, in his Historia de las islas de Bisayas…1668, points out that the pre-Hispanic name of Guiuan was Butag, not Guiuan, and in Spanish records, Guiuan is almost always written as Guiguan.  [e] Fifth, the construction itself, “Iyon na Guiuan,” is not really Samarnon; it is not the correct translation of “That is Guiuan.” [f] Sixth, “Adto an Guiguan (Butag)” or “Guiguan (Butag) iton” would have been nearer to the correct translation.  But, of course, a correct translation would not sound like “Yunagan”. 

[2] Second of all, Albo says that Magellan could not beach on the island of Yunagan on account of its many shoals.  Seemingly to back up his position that Yunagan was the southern tip of Samar, Gerona cites the geographic description of Camilo Arana’s Derrotero, where it is said that the coast of Guiuan is dotted by reefs extending to six miles to the southwestern portion until a breaker located seven miles west of the southern point of Samar.  I think that the appeal to that particular page in Arana’s book is out of place, because what the author describes is the western portion of the southern tip of Samar that runs from Gigoso point in what is now part of Giporlos to the southern part of Guiuan.  I would have preferred that he appealed to Arana’s description of the eastern coast of Samar from Borongan to the tip of the island because that is the portion that is relevant to the discussion of Magellan’s attempted landing on the island.  Here’s Arana’s description of the western portion of the southern tip of the island in his book, Derrotero del Archipielago Filipino, p. 670:

Maps. To conclude this brief essay: if this discussion on the Calicoan revisionist narrative has anything to learn from, it should remind us to be always critical of historians, because their knowledge does not come from God through divine infusion, and at the same time, we must be critical of their maps, too. In particular, we should not be gullible about cartographic works, even if these were crafted in Italy, Spain and Portugal during the Middle Ages.  Also, it does not follow that since some world maps show that the Magellanic explorers touched upon the tip of Samar, one must conclude that they attempted to land in Calicoan.  No maps have ever mentioned Calicoan as the islet that Magellan ventured to land, in the first place. The question that should always be borne in mind is: On what documents were they based by their cartographers?  There are maps and maps.  And, if maps of old are reliable, then, one can also claim that Magellan never touched on Samar, even in its southernmost tip, but immediately landed on Homonhon island, as illustrated by the following maps:

 

See, Ma'am, what I mean?  One, therefore, cannot trust every map on Magellan's voyage!  If one has read Pigafetta, Albo and the Genoese Pilot, it would not take long for him to infer that all these maps are erroneous.  In other words, maps by themselves are not sufficient evidence or guide to judge the correct course that Magellan took in coming to the Philippines from Guam, even if they were presented to us by the best historians in the Philippines.  One has to read first the primary sources of the Magellan-Elcano expedition.