I: Sailing the Green Sea of Darkness to the World’s End
Living as they did in its heart, while North Africans respected and feared the mighty, pitiless expanse of the Sahara Desert, they were more in awe of the great sea which lay beyond the rivers they knew, and where, it was said, the gods plucked up the vessels of those who wandered too far - whether due to bravery or accident - and flung them over the edge of the world into a dark hole from which no man returned. But times were changing, and scholars from as far as Morocco had begun to challenge such ideas, including the inherent one of the world being flat. No, said these men: the world is like a gourd, and could you but travel far enough, rather than fall off its edge, you would return to the point from which you started.
Given that more enlightened areas of the world such as Europe, and especially Greece, centre of learning and science for much of the ancient world, had long disproved or at least abandoned the theory of a flat earth, this might seem a little backward. But it is important to remember that we’re talking here about the thirteenth century, when Africa as a nation had little if any trade with the other side of the world, and not much to counter this argument. It should also be borne in mind that a country as relatively advanced as China retained the belief that the world was flat right up to the seventeenth century.
Abubakari II
There are those who say he did not exist, and they may be right, but our information comes from Arab accounts and writings, and whether or not they refer to him, or someone else for whom he is the model, the name we’re given in Abubakari II, King of Mali. Everything after this will be written with respect to those who have given us the accounts, and therefore taken, in so far as possible, to be true. Abubakari then, came to the throne of Mali young, and with a young man’s boredom for rituals and pilgrimages, and worn out by endless wars, he envisaged instead enshrining his reign with an undertaking nobody before him had considered, or dared. He would cross the Green Sea of Darkness, and see what lay beyond.
Though technically a Muslim, Abubakari rejected many of the more stringent disciplines of Islam. He is said to have believed the teachings of the imams as “crickets singing at sundown in the darkened savannahs”, and he felt that Muslims in general were “terrified of real life, terrified of the primitive power of sex, terrified of the senses.” He laughed sharply when they recoiled from the sight of his daughters swimming naked while they “entombed their women up to the eyes in cloth.” Somewhat like perhaps you might think King George messing with steam engines or Nero competing in the chariot races, Abubakari left his affairs of state to his underlings and surrounded himself with the best and brightest, the forward-thinking men whose minds rejected, like his, the warnings and the superstitions of the elders. He was trying to usher in a new golden age of knowledge and enlightenment, and such ideas as his ancestors - and some in his present time, even some at his court - espoused got in the way of that attempt. You can’t go forward while looking back, he may have thought, and so he set his sights on the future.
To this end, he sent forth a summons from his court for all men who had experience and skill in shipbuilding, navigation, exploration and all associated skills to come to him, and assist him in launching his great adventure. From the Gambia they answered his call, from Senegal and the Niger they came, even from far-off Lake Chad. From these men he learned and was taught many things, such as that having a large boat might not necessarily be the best way to go, that even though the great ocean could be tumultuous and savage with its currents and storms, often it was more dangerous when calm, when the winds dropped and not a breath stirred the sails, and a ship could lie becalmed for days, even weeks, or longer. He was told of tiny islands which certain men had visited, but found to be barren and lifeless. However discouraging those accounts might be though, others did theorise that beyond the great expanse of water there could, in all possibility, lie new, undiscovered lands.
Though many suggestions were made as to what sort of boat he should build - some said it must have a sail, but others that to rely on a sail alone was asking for trouble, referencing the already-noted deadly calms, and that oars should also be included, Abubakari decided in the end to play it safe and have made not one type of ship, but to take note of all men’s advice, and ensure he had the best possible chance of survival in the fleet at the head of which he would put to sea. Minor skirmishes on his border were called off as he recalled his soldiers to aid in the building, caravan guides and navigators, who knew how to plot courses, were put into service, also holy men, magicians, philosophers and thinkers. An extensive programme of deforestation was embarked upon as trees were cut down to provide the wood for the fleet, and with supply boats intended to follow the main ships in order to ensure they did not run out of provisions should some disaster strike, the whole thing would resemble a seaborne version of the great Arab caravans that traversed the unforgiving desert.
A fine adventure indeed, but one must wonder what the people thought? No doubt the shipbuilding cost immense amounts of money, and no doubt also this was paid for by them, in the form of taxes levied on them. Did they believe - secretly, of course, for who would openly criticise the ruler? - that the prince was being too single-minded, devoting all his energies to what could be called a pet project, even a white elephant, while he neglected his kingdom? Were there the kinds of sullen mutterings that accompanied Man’s efforts to reach the Moon, over seven hundred years later, while people back on Earth starved and had nowhere to live? We don’t know: none of this is recorded in the writings, as I suppose it might have been forbidden, or considered indelicate or even dangerous, certainly controversial, to voice such doubts about the soundness of the prince’s decision. At any rate, once the fleet was assembled, Abubakari instructed its captains “Do not return until you have reached the ends of the ocean, or until you have exhausted your supplies of food.”
Perhaps the last part of that instruction might be seen as superfluous; if they ran out of food, was it likely they could make it home? You would have to assume that was an afterthought, and what Abubakari II really meant was “find the new world or don’t bother coming back.” When some time later (it’s not made clear when, but I would imagine weeks, maybe months) one of the captains appeared at court to advise that he had watched his fellow captains sail over the horizon and get caught up in a strong current, but fearing it he had turned back, Abubakari feared the worst. All was lost. He had gambled on this great expedition and it had turned to dust in his hands. Now he would not be the toast of the Arab world, but its joke. People would point (not in reality, but in their minds, and in private) at him and call him reckless, a dreamer, a failure. The sea voyage would be called “Abubakari’s Folly”, and worse, nobody would even think of exploring the great dread dark ocean again. Mali would remain in ignorance and isolation when it could have been at the vanguard of a new world of discoveries.
He would not let such a thing be, he decided, and people privately thought their prince had gone mad when he announced his decision to build a new fleet, far larger than the first, and, more, to captain it himself. He personally would command the expedition which would go in search of the first one, and see what had happened.
The year was 1311, almost a hundred and fifty years before Columbus was even born.
It can be more or less accepted that as he embarked on this voyage Abubakari essentially abdicated, as he transferred all power to his brother as regent, telling Kankan Musa that if he did not return he was to assume the monarchy in his stead. He described the period his brother should wait before taking power as “a reasonable amount of time”, but I’m not sure what any court in the land would see that as covering: months? Years? The moment the prince’s ships had vanished over the horizon? At any rate, his brother got to take power as Abubakari never returned to his kingdom, sailing instead into history.