On Wednesday, July 28, 1688, Willem de Vlamingh discovered the piece of land he called Witseneiland and on October 26 of that same year he already left as commanding steersman on a small galliot for the VOC. So this arrangement went rather quickly!

In general, a newly hired captain started with the VOC as commanding steersman, earning slightly less than  someone called skipper, while doing the same job. Only two years later did you officially become a skipper.

As commanding mate, Willem received only 60 guilders a month on that first voyage (against the wages of 80 guilders for skippers). Anyway, Willem - now 48 years old - must have been happy with this new job. It gave him a good and regular income and it certainly gave him a certain status to work for the VOC. That is why Willem immediately arranged a job with the Company for his only living son Cornelis. The boy, who had just turned ten years old, sailed with his father as cabin boy on the first trip. Of the fifteen crew members - including three helmsmen, a barber, a cook and a carpenter - no fewer than two were cabin boys. Cornelis was the youngest of all (1).

Cornelis is registered last in the list of crew members. He receives a wage of 8 guilders per month. The other cabin boy already earns more

National Archives in The Hague under VOC the section Opvarenden (Passengers), 5360, p219

On November 26, 1688, they set sail on a ship called the Vergulde Vlamingh. Apparently Willem and Cornelis owned a galliot that bore their name and they were hired with ship and all. The books of the VOC state the company hired this boat (from 1688 to 1690), exactly the time this first trip approximately took place. Afterwards, Willem  will remain in the service of the VOC, the galliot does not. We have no idea what happened to this ship after 1690: was the galliot sold and got it just a new name?

The VOC's Uitloopboek (Book of departing ships, 2) shows Willem Hessels de Vlaminge departed at the same time as galliot the Elisabeth and with a buis (another ship). Again we find the announcement of their ship being hired. According to the text they all sailed out together on November 26, 1688 from the Vlie to the see. Then the booklet states they have remained on Hitland (the Shetland Islands), which in Dutch shipterms means they all perished, but that part apparently only applied to yhe buis of Tobias Leijdsman, because the Vergulde Vlamingh sailed on. In Willems own logbook we read he sailed from Texel (so not from the Vlie next to Vlieland as the VOC's book states). He stayed at the Cape of Good Hope from March 25 to April 7, 1689, and thank God arrived at Batavia roadstead on October 31, 1689.

The text after the braces reads (in Dutch): ingeheurt en den 26 November 1688, te samen uijt het Vlie in Zee geloopen ... op Hanglip op Hitlant gebleven (Translated: Hired and on November 26, 1688, sailed together from the Vlie to see ... remained on Hanglip on Hitland)

National Archives in The Hague under Uitgelopen schepen (Ships that went away): 4932, page 158

This first trip to the East of Willem de Vlamingh took more than eleven months. Quite long actually. Much more than average, so what happened?

Diving into the archives in The Hague - where in the treasuries of the Dutch National Archives so many valuable documents are kept! - we discovered the ship the Vergulde Vlamingh had first visited the island of Malacca on the outward journey before it reached Batavia. As a result, we still have the complete sailing instruction the high lords of the VOC in Malacca issued to the skippers of both the fluit ship the Civetkat and the galliot de Vlamingh on the 18th of September 1689 (3).

The instruction clearly states how - according to the board members of the VOC - it is best to sail from Malacca to Batavia. First they have to muster the crew and then the skippers must sail (in God's name). Meanwhile they are told exactly which course to take towards Batavia. They have to sail west and east around various islands, through the street of banca. The officials warn them there will be a monsoon at this time of year in that area. So that's why they think it wise to yaw the island of Bantam and then set course for Batavia through well-trodden waters.

Both skippers are expressly informed of all possible dangers en route. Not only should they be suspicious of all droughts, cliffs, reefs and sands known in these waters and for which they are advised to steadily use the lead plummet to gauge the depth of the fairway. The ships must also be on guard at all times and make sure they are in a posture of defense (in other words: to be able to defend themselves if necessary) and, above all, they are not to trust ships from France, England or other European nations!

Manuscript from 1690 preserved in the National Archives in The Hague: 1.04.02 Inventory of the archives of the VOC. Inventory number 1459, page 207 (=213 in search engine)

In fact, the instruction Willem de Vlamingh receives on his first voyage for the VOC literally states he must try to overpower every French ship he encounters. After which he has to conquer, inventory and seal the goods (because those things are all to the benefit of the high-powered nobles of Batavia).

To be on the safe side, the two skippers (van de Civetkat and De Vergulde Vlamingh) must always be in each others neighbourhood to help one another as much as possible in every need. Sailing alone apparently was too dangerous.

All this shows Willem de Vlamingh lived in exciting times. The Dutch Republic was at war with France and as skipper he even has permission to board any enemy ship!

Apparently things went well, for both ships arrived safely in Batavia, with still fifteen men on board. So there were no fatalities during the crossing. The detour via Malaysia explains why the trip took a bit longer than average. 

On September 26, 1688, the Vergulde Vlamingh left the Netherlands. They stayed at the Cape from March 25, 1689 until April 7, and at Malacca from August 27 to September 19, arriving in Batavia on October 3. To the disappointment of the administrators there, the VOC had not given any papers to Willem de Vlamingh on his first trip (4). The board members of the VOC communicated with each other through letters, reports and other papers they gave to the various ships that sailed for them (and often they gave also copies of these documents to other VOC ships, so they did not miss out on communication when a ship perished). Willem de Vlamingh had however not been entrusted with any of this on his first crossing to the East.

Information at ARSIP

What exactly Willem de Vlamingh was up to on Batavia and what he transported is not entirely clear to us, but we can deduce from a recovered expense account the ship was taken to the island of Onrust in the meantime for maintenance. The term "onrust" in Dutch literally means "unrest, unquiet".

This island of Onrust was not far from the capital of Java and bore that name because of all the activity there. It was the place where the seams between the ship's planks were made watertight.

Thanks to this new found expense receipt, we still know exactly what was done on galliot de Vergulde Vlamingh on December 2, 1689 (5). Apparently the seams were sealed with a substance they called "harpuis", because two barrels were used to service the galliot. Harpuis was a mixture of boiled linseed oil and resin, making it highly moisture resistant. It doesn't completely lock in the wood and it's a bit elastic so it stretches and shrinks with the wood.

Furthermore, Willem de Vlamingh was charged for 9 planks (cut from two thick beams), a big pile of nails and some sulphur. Plus the labor wages of 10 carpenters who worked on the repair for six days. Perhaps several boards had to be replaced. All in all, the construction work cost more than 170 guilders (of which 60 for labor costs and the rest for material costs). Willem de Vlamingh personally signed the receipt to confirm his ship has undergone the above repairs. It is striking that there is a second handwritten copy of this receipt, which is also signed by Willem (6). So just like now, the administration then went in multiples.

Next to the repairs, on the island of Java everything has been stocked for the way back. This is shown by another account still preserved for more than three hundred years (7)! From this it can be concluded Willem de Vlamingh ordered various things from the "small shop" in Batavia, such as flag cloth, sewing thread, spices, pepper, various pottery and other stuff for a total of more than 67 guilders. The equipage master bought things like a copper kettle, 8 compass glasses, planks and shores.

Unspecified medicines were bought for 56 guilders and there is a whole list of groceries. Among other things, they ordered bacon and Dutch butter, French wine and vinegar, lamp oil, brandy and beer, wax candles, black sugar, sugared tamerind and salt - for an amount of more than a thousand guilders. In addition, more than 200 guilders worth of rice, peanuts (called cadjang in Indonesian) and beans were brought on board. All together a total bill of almost 2500 guilders!

National Archives in The Hague: 1.04.02 Inventory number 1459, page 564

Willem de Vlamingh once again received specific sailing instructions for the return journey home to Holland, which were apparently also copied several times, because the text we found is called Authenticque copie (8).

The Vergulde Vlamingh arrived in Batavia on October 31 and left for the homeland on December 4, 1689. Just before departure - on 30 November - William received his instructions from the governor general and the councils from the castle in Batavia where the directors of the Dutch East India Company were based. The instruction states they must use their recommended course to reach a favorable wind from the island to the southern latitude of 11 to 14 degrees. After that it is recommended to sail at least 80 to 90 miles above Madagascar.

At the height of Mauritius (an island located east of Madagascar) it is known strong storm winds can develop at that time of the year in the months of March or April, yes also earlier. So the skipper is advised to take this into account and firmly secure the "stuckies" (the pieces), those are the cannons on board!

The same long instruction also mentions a secret letter, drawn up by Governor Simon van der Stel of the Cape of Good Hope. This secret letter is specially intended for this time of war with France, with which the Dutch were at odds. 

This part reads in Dutch: "Simon van der Stel daarop gestelt volgens de hiernevens gevolgde geslotene secrete Zeynbrief specialijk indesen tyt des oorlogs met Vrankrijk". (Loosly translated: "Simon van der Stel says in the secret letter enclosed below, especially in this time of war with France...")

National Archives in The Hague: 1.04.02 Inventory number 1457B, page 226

The letter from the governor states there may be an unusually large number of ships in Table Bay near the Cape of Good Hope that might be enemies. In that case it might be better to sail past the Cape and to the isle of Fernando de Noronha for the necessary refreshments. This island is however a long way off, because it is located off the coast of Brazil.

Yet, Willem de Vlamingh was urgently advised - and with good reason as the governor stressed - to avoid Sint Helena (which is much more centrally located in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean). The good reason Governor van der Stel cites relates to the fact the island was dominated by the Republic since 1645, but the English expelled them in 1658. Therefore Saint Helena had passed into in enemy hands and was better left alone.

Hopefully Willem de Vlamingh and his men would find the roadstad of the Cape without any enemies! The conveniently located refreshment station in the lowest point of Africa has not been nicknamed “of good hope” without just ground. Traveling by ship between the home port and the Far East was far too long a journey to do in one go. A safe haven was definitely needed along the way to stock up on fresh food and clean drinking water. Did Willem de Vlamingh have to sail all the way to the farthest eastern point of Brazil?

After the necessary refreshment station, the Vergulde Vlamingh had to sail between Fairhil and Litlant or between Litlant and the islands of Fero in order to be able to enter a home port of the fatherland according to the regulations received from Batavia. Could this mean Willem - as was often the case - had to sail around England and above Scotland (and the Faroe Islands)? When enemy ships were in the Channel, the Dutch liked to take this detour to avoid an encounter. Should Willem accidentally run into other ships, the instruction continued, he should be careful not to approach the other, unless the skipper could be sure they were not enemies. Everyone is urged to remain especially careful and finally they wish them all the Blessing of the Lord. The instruction is heartily signed with Your Friends from the Batavia Castle (8).

"UL vrunden" means "U Lieden vrienden" in (very old) Dutch, so in translation it says: "your friends"

National Archives in The Hague: 1.04.02 Inventory number 1457B, page 225

The clerks noted in the big book of the castle on December 4, 1689 (9) that the galliot the Vergulde Vlamingh leaves Batavia to sail over the Cape to the fatherland. But, as we shall see below, this will turn out quite differently...

Information at ARSIP

Skipper De Vlamingh ultimately chose to ignore the Cape of Good Hope as refreshment station. This is apparent from the following newspaper report. For yes, our Willem appeared in the newspaper again!! This time it is quite a long article, because he brings useful information from the East for the readers back home. In the Oprechte Haerlemsche Courant you can read under the headline “Amsterdam den 31 mei”: 

Via Delper

In translation:

For three days, Schipper Vlaming arrived with a Galliot in Hellevoetsluis (a village in Holland) and came here in person yesterday: he departed from Batavia on December 7, 1689, and has not visited the Caep de Bona Esperance (the Cape of Good Hoop); because four or five ships could be seen from afar in the bay, and one of them seemed to be a strange construction: He sailed through the Channel and brings news about 11 to 12 Ships that are returning home and a Galliot repatriating with them (except for some ships); of these, 7  got cargo at Batavia, and three in Ceylon, one came from the Coast of Coromandel, and one from Bengale, they are all coming soon; "that person" (meaning Willem de Vlamingh) mentions the names of the following returning ships: Nederlant, de Purmer, Slaeper, 's Lants Welvaren, Syon, Capelle, Pijlswaert, Schielant, Alckmaer, de Leck, den berg China and another one: the Company is doing very well in the Dutch Indies (10).

In short, Willem returns to the Netherlands and reports extensively things are going well with the East India Company in Batavia. He also mentions by name a number of ships he encountered in the Channel and who will soon enter Dutch ports. We notice Willem de Vlamingh did not join all these other ships in a so called "Return Fleet" to sail through the dangerous Channel together with the rest for safety. It is remarkable he has opted for the faster route through the Channel anyway. It's daring and against his instructions!

But wait... We have found another newspaper on the exact same day telling us Willem did sail the adviced route "achter Engeland om", so left around the back of England:

Amsterdamse courant, 01-06-1690, p. 2. Geraadpleegd op Delpher

In any case, Willem de Vlamingh did sail past the Cape of Good Hope exactly according to his instructions, because apparently there were several enemy ships or at least one with a strange construction (of which we wonder what kind of boat that must have been?! ). Passing the Cape, however, means Willem most likely visited the island of Fernando de Noronha as a much-needed refreshment station on his way back. For he followed his instructions to the last bit and these were his orders... So maybe traces of Willem de Vlamingh can still be found in the archives of Brazil???

According to the books of the VOC, he finally repatriated on May 28, 1690 in Goeree, in Zeeland. According to the newspaper, the place he arrived was Hellevoetsluis, which is located exactly on the other side of the Haringvliet. Only to arrive in Amsterdam three days later. This was the end of his first voyage for the VOC.

Second trip?

Unfortunately, we do not know what Willem de Vlamingh did in the early 1990s. Although we did find a very intriguing reference. Or actually Jan Bossenbroek found it for us. One afternoon in the Scheepvaartmuseum in Amsterdam, this enthusiastic volunteer spent hours actively helping us, thinking and searching to uncover EVERYTHING about Willem de Vlamingh in their museum. He was therefore the one who came up with a clue about one Willem de Vlamingh. In it, however, Willem was described as a Vlissingsch kaperkapitein (so a privateer captain from Vlissingen, which is a village in the province of Zeeland). Could this really refer to our Willem??? 

Scheepvaartmuseum Amsterdam, in "Nederlandse kapiteins - koopvaardij 1600-1700" by J.van Sluijs

Now, in the periode our Willem de Vlamingh from Vlieland was alive, there also lived a skipper named "Willem Vlaming" in Middelburg (another village in the province of Zeeland). However, when we read that the ship of the privateer captain was called De Vlaming, we decided to investigate this clue seriously. Because the skipper from Middelburg could usually be found on a ship called De Halve Maan. Moreover, this information was in 1690 and we have just seen "our Willem" arrived in Goeree in May of that year, so in Zeeland of all places!

At the Scheepvaartmuseum, where the employees really know everything about shipping (especially from the time of the VOC and Willem de Vlamingh), they managed to tell us the title "Vlissinger privateer captain" does not mean this skipper had to be born in Vlissingen or that he would necessarily be a professional pirate. According to them, the term means it concerns a skipper who had letters of marque from Vlissingen and we know Willem de Vlamingh on his previous trip received the explicit order from the VOC to board foreign ships. It could therefore very well have been the case Willem de Vlamingh - once returned to the fatherland - was sent on a subsequent voyage with the same ship, whether or not by the VOC, with letters from Vlissingen giving him permission to hijack an enemy ship.

In those days people made a difference between privateers and pirates. A privateer had permission to hijack enemy ships and a pirate did not. The proceeds therefore had to be shared with the client. The famous Dutch admiral Michiel de Ruijter was once in possession of letters of marque. If the reference in question is about our Willem, then he is in good company. So we set out to get to the bottom of this!

Actual second trip

On his next trip in 1694 Willem de Vlamingh from Vlieland was hired by the VOC chamber of Enkhuizen as skipper of the brand new pinas de Merestein. Although this time he was given the rank of skipper, he only received 66 guilders a month. It did not matter that at that time Willem was already a man with considerable experience and ability and also had a good reputation as a skipper (13).

A wage of 66 guilders was customary at the VOC for someone who made his first official voyage for the Company as a “skipper” (and therefore no longer as a “commanding steersman”). Usually you received 72 guilders on the second trip as a captain and only on the third trip the full amount of 80 guilders. These amounts were exactly the same in 1740 as in 1650 (14). It is actually more striking Willem de Vlamingh will  skip the earnig of 72 guilders on a second trip as skipper and will immediately start earning 80 guilders a month on his next trip (the one to the great land in the South)!

So a watermaker seemed like a welcome invention and Willem de Vlamingh was one of the first skippers to try it out. Such a distillation kettle was still quite difficult to handle. Willem even had to follow instructional lessons (18).

On January 7, 1694, the Merestein departed from the roadstead of Texel towards Batavia with the so-called "Christmas Fleet" (19). Apparently they opted again for the detour above Scotland, this route was often taken for safety at the time because of wars and piracy in the Channel. However, they ran into problems several times along the way because of severe storms with danger to ship and themselves (20). The storm of March 1 in particular had rendered both the mast and the ropework of the new pinas unusable. That day one of the men also fell overboard and drowned (21).

On Saturday, March 27, 1694, skipper Willem de Vlamingh therefore convened a meeting in the middle of the sea with his chief mate Michiel Bloem, plus the boatswain and the second merchant. The Merestein was within sight of "the salty islands" (the Cape Verde Islands) and many of the crew members were wet and cold in their berths. Due to the persistent bad weather, fourteen crew members had already died in a very short time! Out of necessity, they decided during this meeting to visit the island of Sint Tiago (Santiago, the largest Cape Verde island), for ship repairs and to give the sick time to recover. This much-needed rest on the island lasted until April 3.

The Merestein then sailed on to the Cape of Good Hope refreshment station, where they stayed for a few weeks and where eight sick crew members were replaced.

Finally, on September 13, they reached Batavia roadstead (22). In total, no less than 31 people died during this outward journey. Such events we can hardly imagine now!

From the books of Batavia it appears the Merestein arrived with a total of 210 souls on board the ship, mostly all sane and good people. These 210 souls consisted of 123 seafarers, 80 soldiers, 3 women, 2 stowaways and 2 former slaves. The stowaways mentioned were a woman and a boy, who probably sneaked aboard during one of the stops.

On November 10 (26) a day of prayer was held in which God was thanked for his beneficences to the company and implored a safe voyage for the return fleet that would soon leave for the port of our dear fatherland. On November 17 (27) there was a farewell meal in the governor's house with all eight skippers of the returning ships and therefore also with Willem de Vlamingh.

Early in the morning of December 2, 1694, the return fleet (28) under the command of Reijnier de Vos left Batavia with destination the patria. The ships  were loaded with all kinds of cloth and spices. Again, they refreshed in the Cape of Good Hope (from February 27, 1695 to April 18, 1695).

On August 23, 1695 Willem was back in the Netherlands with the Merestein. In addition, Willem even appeared anonymously in the newspaper! The Dutch who opened the Oprechte Haerlemsche Courant of August 23, 1695, read something like:

Four months later it turned out a problem had arisen with the cargo of Willem's ship around the time he wrote the letter (29). In a new found deed we read about the East Indian ship Meersteijn, skippered by Willem de Vlamingh, which arrived here earlier this year. What had happened? At Petten a few goods were unloaded and brought ashore, but since then all these goods had been missing. The VOC  now faced a lawsuit and a lot of costs. To prevent this, the two parties sat around the table, under the mediation of Mr. Albert Roos (a member of the VOC board in Enkhuizen).

Despite this mishap, Willem de Vlamingh was still ordered to go on an expedition to the Big Unkown Southland. He took his son Cornelis with him as third watch (fourth mate). They left on May 3, 1696. On that trip with the Geelvinck and two other ships Willem commanded ('t Weseltje and the Nijptangh), all his talents came together: his desire to discover new countries and give them names, his passion for adventure and his drive to properly map coastal areas. Willem de Vlamingh was the right man for the job!