Mary Rose's fatal manoeuvre was carried out as part of a skirmish against some of the French galleys. Many of these had been brought from the Mediterranean in 1544. When Baron Bernard de St.Blancard (presumed to be the son of a famous galley general) called at Lisbon, he had recruited a Portuguese pilot, who was still serving on the same galley in 1546. We can thus suppose that he was a witness not only to the fighting in Spithead, but also to the accidental burning of the French flagship Carraquon in the Seine the previous 6th July; though unfortunately he records neither event in his manuscripts.

He does however make some remarks about the capture of this same galley off Ambleteuse in May 1546, following a skirmish between French galleys and an English squadron including the Anne Gallant, the Phoenix, and the then new Greyhound. The galley slaves were set free in England (though initially this appears to have meant only elevation from slavery to the status of forced labour). Negotiations for the release of the French prisoners were protracted, but the pilot seems never to have been imprisoned.

He was Padre Fernando Oliveira, a Dominican-trained polymath, who during the following quarter of a century would write some key manuscripts in the maritime field, as well as many other works of importance in Portuguese history. He was clearly held in esteem by Henry and subsequently by Edward (or perhaps the Protector, in practice). He was sent back to Portugal with a payment of £10, bearing a letter to Dom João III, announcing the accession of Edward. More significantly, the same man was apparently paid £100 - about four year's wages for a craftsman - on his return with a letter of greeting from the Portuguese King.

There is a possibility of mistaken identity in the English records alone: it has however been a mystery in Portugal as to where the previously penniless Oliveira had acquired funds, later in 1547 (and even perhaps returned to Royal favour after some earlier troubles), and there seems little real doubt about the identification of Oliveira in the accounts.

To confirm the story, Oliveira was interrogated at length by the Inquisition for his beliefs, shortly after his return to Portugal in 1547. He refused to denounce Henry's religious views. The reason he gave was perhaps as safe as any in the circumstances: that he "had been Henry's servant, and eaten his bread".

It is particularly interesting to read in the autobiographical section of one of his manuscripts (Livro da Fábrica das Naus) that by about 1570 he had travelled the world, working and studying in shipyards. It is abundantly clear from his manuscripts that this was no idle boast: his work was in fact a good century ahead of its time in the area of delineating the form of ships, even if in general his descriptions are idealised. He also held some modern views about the development of shipping around the world, and the implications for the status of native populations then being discovered around the world, which put him poles apart from the Conquistadores.

He claims, than, to have worked in shipyards in Spain, France, Italy, and in England. We know only of his two visits in 1546-7 (though there is a possibility that he was employed as an ambassador in the negotiations over the French crew of the galley during this period). It may be that he was at liberty to study the Thames yards, at least, at this time. In view of his later knowledge, and that the wartime building programme and design developments instituted by Henry (and some of which can still be traced in our archives) were still in full swing, it would be interesting to know more of Oliveira's activities at this time, and why he merited a reward of £100. The phrase about bread, above, does suggest some sort of service, even acquaintance with Henry, rather than mere largesse. It would be fully in accord with Henry's known liking for dealing directly with his senior professional advisers on technical matters.

In fact, if we turn to Oliveira's Arte da Guerra do Mar of 1555, we find that Oliveira had the following to say about Henry VIII and his galleys, which if true casts new light on the period, and brings us back to the campaign of 1545:

"In the War of Bolougne, the English King ordered some galleys to be built in his Kingdom, to remove this fear from his men, solely so that his men should see what the thing was, and not be astonished by those of France; which galleys would serve him for no other thing, and he knew well that they would not be able to serve him, and therefore he did not make more than a few for show. With which strategy he so emboldened his men that they had no esteem for the galleys of France".

It seems that we have a good illustration of the remark attributed to Cardinal Granville in 1559: "….the art of war is now such that men be fain to learn anew at every two years' end".