The Voyage Toward Constantinople: Storms, Superstitions, and Omens
[de.Clari.chronicle.09]
“And when the pilgrims set out to sea, the wind was contrary for many days; and the ships were tossed about and separated from one another, so that some feared they would never see their companions again. And many said that the sea was angry because of the sins that had been committed, and they swore that God had not wished them to do what they had done at Zara. But the greatest among the barons replied that they must trust in God and continue the voyage.”
— Robert de Clari, The Conquest of Constantinople
The sea voyage from Dalmatia toward Constantinople is one of the most underestimated chapters of the Conquête. For Clari, it is a decisive psychological passage: the sea becomes a judge.
After Zara, the army is already divided. Put it on ships, in the middle of storms, and the result is the perfect mixture for explosive superstition and guilt.
1. The Sea as Divine Punishment
Clari insists on one point: as soon as the ships set sail, the weather worsens.
contrary winds,
ships losing sight of one another,
crews unable to find each other again,
fear of sinking,
starless nights.
For men who had rarely seen the sea, it feels as if God Himself is shaking the world with His hands. And here a phrase appears that echoes in many testimonies of ordinary crusaders:
“It is because we attacked Christians.”
The sea is not a natural event, it is a sign.
2. The Sea Reveals the Internal Fracture
At sea you cannot escape your own thoughts.
Clari reports two voices:
the voice of the common men: “God is angry.”
the voice of the leaders: “It is only wind. We continue.”
This opposition is central to the chronicle.
At Zara it was only a crack. At sea it becomes a fissure. At Constantinople it will become an abyss.
The leaders think politically. Ordinary knights think spiritually.
And the two visions finally collide openly.
3. The Separation of the Ships: Fear of Disintegration
Clari says the ships are “tossed about” and “separated.”
In a medieval context this means:
each ship becomes an island without communication,
entire groups may be lost,
a commander cannot issue orders,
nor know who is alive and who is not.
The crusade, already weakened morally, fragments physically.
It is almost symbolic: the army loses its unity at the same moment it loses visual contact.
4. Omens: When Every Event Becomes a Message
For Clari, as for most crusaders, reality is never silent.
Every sway of the ship, every cry of the wind, every creak of wood becomes a sign.
Clari does not judge these interpretations—he records them.
And the more events seem chaotic, the more the army relies on symbolic interpretation.
This mentality will be crucial before the enormous walls of Constantinople: they will not look for logic, but for divine will.
They will find it where it is convenient for the leaders.
5. The Sea as a Purifying Rite—and a Prelude to Chaos
The journey is long, the weather harsh, the fears immense. But when the winds finally change and the ships regain their course, the army feels it has “passed the test.”
It is an illusory thought. Yet in that era symbolism often weighs more than rational explanation.
For Clari, the sea becomes a threshold: if God had wanted them dead, He would have drowned them.
Therefore they must continue.
In this way the army absolves itself for the sin of Zara—not through the Pope, not through the barons, but through the sea itself.
Explained Thematic Connections
A) Guilt and Symbolic Interpretation
The storm is not meteorology—it is theology. The medieval world interprets reality through guilt and signs. The sea becomes a moral indicator.
B) The Crusaders’ Structural Inability to Read Context
The crusaders cannot distinguish natural causes from religious causes. This makes them easily manipulated.
C) Command and Fragmentation
At sea the authority of the barons is weak. The Doge dominates. Ships isolate. The army loses cohesion before reaching its next objective.
D) The Culture of Omens
The medieval sea is a supernatural space. The crusaders unconsciously read nature as a sacred text.
This prepares the ground for the “wonders” that Clari will later describe in Constantinople.






