cartography 195
The maps in the first version were imbedded in texts which discussed landmarks,
layout of harbors, dangerous reefs, and other hazards that a pilot needed to avoid in
order to safely navigate a coastline. The texts were indispensable. There were no
rhumb lines on the maps, though compass points or “winds” were indicated. Lacking
rhumb lines and illustrating only sections of shorelines or islands, the maps of Pırı̄ ̄
Re͗ı̄s reflect a slightly earlier European mapping tradition known as isolarii, or “books
of islands” consisting of island maps accompanied by textual navigation guides (Tolias,
2007). In the introduction to the Book of Maritime Matter, Pı̄rı Rē ͗ıs discussed winds, ̄
the compass, the oceans of the world, and the European voyages of discovery, includ-
ing the Portuguese penetration into the Indian Ocean and Columbus’ discovery of
the New World (Piri Reis, 1988; Soucek, 1992a; Özen, 1998; Koutelakis, 2008;
Kahlaoui, 2008a: 293–321).
Because Pırı̄ Rē ͗ıs wanted to attract the attention and support of the Ottoman ̄
sultan, Süleymān the Magnificent, he prepared a second version five years later (1526)
that was more polished and elegant, and worthier of its intended august recipient.
Professional miniaturists were involved in the production of the illustrations in this
second version (Soucek, 1992b; Soucek, 1996). Furthermore, the accompanying text
was either greatly reduced or omitted altogether—so that the volume became a true
atlas.^5 In the event, Pırı̄ ̄ Re͗ıs did not gain the patronage of the Turkish ruler, despite ̄
this elegant presentation volume. In fact, Pı̄rı Rē ͗ıs was executed in Cairo in 1554 (by ̄
then well into his 80s) on the grounds of a controversial decision he had made as a
naval commander to avoid direct confrontation with Portuguese warships.
It can be argued that all pre-modern maps of the Mediterranean Sea were part of
what in Europe came to be called “the art of memory”—that is, they were a means of
schematically structuring and remembering constellations of ideas. The focus was the
visual establishment of the relative location of rival realms around and within the Sea.
In classical and medieval European maps that geographical scheme was overlaid with a
theological or historical narrative. In early Islamic maps, the visualization of approxi-
mate boundaries between peoples and realms vis-à-vis the four cardinal directions
appears the primary purpose, along with increasing interest in naming ports and major
inland settlements. With the exception of the Ottoman sea charts (which were greatly
influenced by European models), Islamic maps were not ornamented with pictures of
strange creatures and marvelous beasts, or ships or castles, all of which adorned so
many European maps of the later middle ages, nor did they represent events in the his-
tory of Islam. The rise of portolan charts—beginning with the eleventh-century
Egyptian proto-portolan diagram and flourishing at workshops in Catalonia, Italy, and
Istanbul during the fourteenth through seventeenth centuries—reflects increased
interest in maps illustrating travel, trade, and naval expeditions. To what extent any of
these early maps were of use to a sailor on board ship or to a roving landlubber is,
however, questionable. Even the impressive portolan charts, both European and
Ottoman, in the form in which they are preserved today, are more statements of power
and dominion than useful nautical guides for navigating the Mediterranean Sea.
Portolan charts are notable for the absence of any mathematical coordinates at the
edges of their rectangular frames by which latitude and longitude could be estimated,
and consequently they lacked a mathematical basis, though they did offer more accu-
rate coastal outlines (Buisseret, 2010: 333–335; Soucek, 1996: 32–33). When these
charts were ultimately combined with mathematical coordinates in the Ptolemaic