Yope took me to the docks on the Amstel, where wharf cats feasted on rats and herring. Of course, none of these cats seemed so intelligent as my Cathay. He had something to show me, he said.
A large ship called Batavia had just arrived from Java (“YA vah” as Yope pronounces it). The crewmen tanned from the tropical sun, their hair bleached. And Batavia , a heavy laden treasure vessel, its cargo a heady perfume of cloves, nutmeg, and pepper. And doing some of the work on deck were Javanese, small but powerful dark-skinned men shouting at each other in some musical language. Some crew still on duty aboard ship called out to friends on the dock, and in my best (cough!) Dutch writing, let me transcribe what I heard.
“Yope, hoe gat het?” I guess that means “how are you?”
And so a dialogue went on awhile, with Yope seeming as excited as the mariners, “Yope, wij zijn blij terug de komen.”
Then another sailor might see him, and being here now almost two months, I could recognize a repetition. “Yope jongen, hoe is het?”
Yope had something to show me. Beyond the great Batavia was a smaller ship, the Halve Maen, my ship he said. Frankly, seeing its size, so dwarfed by Batavia disappointed me. Rather than “Half “Moon, I thought it should be called “last quarter,” as that would describe. Still, a ship means that soon I might sail again, sail into Cathay.
*Art modified above was by Ludolf Backhuysen (1630-1708).