Isabela lost around sarayaku

It is thought that it was around Sarayaku that Isabela’s party died one by one and she was lost in the jungle for days.

After two days of travel down the river, the two Indians who she had commissions to build the canoe in Canelos and pilot it down the river (paid for in advance) abandoned her. They woke up on the third morning to find them gone.

They went on and passed one day without incident 2nd day they found a canoe and by it a hut where there was an Indian recovering from illness built of leaves. He agreed to pilot them on the 3rd day he tried to recover the Frenchman’s hat and fell in the river and drowned.

More than once someone lost their hat and it blew off into the water – a reminder of the frenchman’s hat who blew off, and the poor hapless indian who had tried to rescue it fell into the water and drowned, once again leaving Isabella and her party without a pilot to steer their boat. In Jean’s words:

‘Again the canoe was without a steers mans and abandoned to individuals perfectly ignorant of managing it and it was shortly overset forcing them to land and build a hut. At this stage Jean predicts they were some 5-6 days from Andoas.’

It was decided that two of the Frenchman and Joachim would leave in the canoe to travel to Andoas where they would arrange for a proper rescue party to return and collect them. Jean later questioned why a brother didn’t go but found neither trusted themselves to water the again without a proper pilot.

The Frenchman, R, promised that within a fortnight a canoe should be forwarded to them with a proper complement of natives. The fortnight expired and even 5 and 20 days when giving over all hopes they constructed a raft on which they ventured themselves with their provisions and property. The raft, badly framed struck, against the branch of a sunken tree and overset all their effects perishing in the waves, with the whole party being lunged into the water, No one drowned. Jean doesn’t mention the death of the nephew. They collectively decided to and walk the river bank. This is difficult trees, underwood herbages and lianas bested with trees underwood and eventually they penetrated the wood and soon got lost. Their feet torn by thorns and brambles provisions exhausted and dying with this they seated themselves on the ground without the power of rising and waited the approach of death, expiring within 3-4 days of each other, sometime between 25 and 30 December 1769. Isabela remained with the corpses for 2 days until she started wandering in the woods. She wandered alone for around 8 days at random. The stress of the experience turned her hair grey overnight, having had such an effect on her spirits, witnessing the horror of all the deaths, solitude, apprehension of death. Allegedly she survived on water, wild fruit and fresh eggs. She could barely swallow however her oesophagus being so parched and strained.

 

Sarayaku

Sarayaku was comprised of an arrangement of wooded houses on stilts thatched with palm fronds.

We were given our own wooden house, raised on stilts to ourselves where we could sleep in tents and set up a camp for ourselves and a place to build a fire and cook our meals.

There were separate open huts at ground level which served as kitchens where they cooked chicken wrapped in banana leaves and drive river fish on grills on open fires. Whilst there was a small gas cooked in one of the kitchens, Juan said this was only for his mother who was 80 years old and found it difficult to stoop down to cook on the fire but they preferred the flavour that the open fire gave their food – even their rice. Although solar panels provided electricity I never noticed it being used and we were confined to using head torches to see after the sun when down.

The plan was to stay here for 3 nights.

We prepared our own food but they shared their chichi with us. Chicha is an alcoholic drink fermented from yuka or cassava. One stage in the process of its preparation is that the women masticate it and spit it back.

They drink it only from bowls made from the dried fruits of a specific tree - the name of which I now forget. This bowl is filled and refilled by the women, who then pass these communal bowls around to all those present.

We noticed that whenever anyone entered a house, or a gathering in the community hut, the new arrival had to go around and individually greet every person present, shaking hands.

 

Canoe to Sarayaku

The women at the disco bar cooked us a meal of yuka and patacones (fried green bananas) with scrambled eggs and tea made with cinnamon leaves. Before we left we made use of their electricity. This was probably the last place we would have for a while where we could recharge our cameras and equipment.

When Isabela had arrived in Canelos they found only two indians remaining there who had survived the contagion. Isabela and her party commissioned them to build a canoe and pilot them down the river to the mission of Andoas (on what is now the border between Ecuador and Peru). At the time this would have been about a 12 day journey via canoe.

Over breakfast we were told we would drive down to a different port where we would leave – about a half hour drive away.

We were aware that the river was really low for the time of the year. It would be a slow journey and would take us all day and navigation would be more difficult.

Juan had negotiated with a swiss man living in the village to drive us and our luggage/food supplies the 15 minute drive down the road to the port. On the way he was saying how he would love to go to Sarayaku but he had not. It was necessary to be invited. You couldn’t just turn up. He also told us about the Achwan people who live about 50km the other direction. He said if you go into their territory without permission they will just hit you. We were later to learn more about these Achwan people.

Finally we reached the port where a 35 foot dugout canoe was waiting for us. There were other dugout canoes being loaded with various things – including one that was taking a fleet of baby live chickens. The owners built a covering of palm leaves over them to keep them sheltered from the baking sun.

Although there were many rapids which needed navigation, the river was still very low in places and more than once we got stuck on the river bottom and they guys had to get out and push us free. All our important stuff was tightly packed in drug sacks.

There was a hole in the front of the canoe which meant the bottom was full of water. A small boy was in the back with his father. He was constantly bailing the water out the back. His father cut him a container from a petrol bottle for him to scoop the water out. He didn’t wanted to do it and almost immediately ‘lost’ the vessel over the side. His father smacked him and cut another. Within seconds this too was ‘accidentally’ lost over the side. His father, fed up, made him use his boot after that and so for the rest of the journey he used his little gaucho (rubber boot) to scoop out the water. Strangely he managed to keep a tight grip on that for the rest of the journey.

It took us about 6 hours to reach Sarayaku. Although they had constructed removable wooden seats for us to sit on it was still cramped and awkward.

We disembarked on a muddy bank and some of the villages came down to help us carry our stuff up the slope. The plan was for us to stay 3 nights in Sarayaku. We were allowed to. We had permission.

We were told a story about a pair of English people had tried to kayak down the river a couple of years ago. They stopped at Sarayaku and walked into the village. They had not been invited and the Sarayaku were not pleased. They would not let them leave for 24 hours. They shouted at them and made sure they did not leave without fully understanding their cause and their fierce protection of their territory. The Sarayaku are Kichwa people. They are not violent people but they have fought long and hard to protect their lands in the international courts and have no tolerance for anything that may jeopordize this positon.

Other groups – including the Achwan people and the Candosie people in Peru also vigorously protect their territory. But they don’t just ‘talk’ about it. They do use violence. We were later to encounter a taste and stories of the very real threat they posed.

Canelos

Isabela and her party had taken 12 days to hike from Riombanba to Canelos, through heavy rain and mud. We chose to hike the mere last 25km stretch of the journey from Puyo to Canelos. Of course it was an attempt to mirror the experience of Isabela Godin, however the road from Puyo to Canelos was no longer primary rain forest. It had long been turned into secondary rainforest having been cleared years before. There was now a brand new paved road and a bus service to Canelos and so our hike was on tarmac. Almost every person who drove past stopped to offer us a lift. They didn’t understand why we walked. It certainly wasn’t a hike you would do for any other reason other than the one we had. Nevertheless, birds nest still hung from the palm trees and butterflies flew around us and we passed a mirage of squashed lizards and frogs on the road and huts by the side of the road inhabited by Kichwa people with dried sloths and jaguar skins hanging from their banisters.

Isabela’s party consisted of herself and 10 others, including her brothers, nephew and servants, but they were also accompanied by 31 natives. They were commissioned to carry both herself (in her palanquin and embroidered slippers) and her baggage and food supplies for the journey.

She had been told this would be the worst part of the journey. Upon reaching Canelos there would be canoes waiting and it would be smooth sailing thereafter.

After 4 hours of hiking in the head we finally reached Canelos. We were greeted by an arrangement of spread out concrete blocks and buildings.

It felt like a border town, with stray dogs running about and a collection of concrete buildings where men sat drinking beer.

Isabela’s site on her arrival would have been a much more depressing. The expectation should have been one of a fleet of boats awaiting in a welcoming village. Instead the village was deserted with burnt down huts. Smallpox had been the cause and all the residents of the village and fled. The canoes, either had too been burnt or used in the evacuation process. Her Indian companions sense the danger and fled. Her party of 42 diminished to 10 in minutes.

In his words:

The Americans who escorted Madame Godin, who were paid in advance according to the bad custom in this country, a custom, founded on mistrust, at times too well founded, scarcely reached Canelos before they retracted their steps, either from dread of the air being infected or from apprehension of being obliged to embark, a matter obnoxious in extreme to individuals who had perhaps never seen a canoe in their lives but at a distance.’

When we organized the journey we had had to negotiate with Juan and Heraldo, to pay 50% upfront and 50% after. They had wanted full payment upfront. We laughed when they told us that if we didn’t pay up at the end he would take us back to Ecuador.

We walked down to take a look at the river. It looked shallow and fast with white water and rocks poking from the surface. I could immediately see the difficulties we were going to encounter in a fibreglass canoe, let alone a dug out.

We went back to set up camp. We were staying in a bar, disco, family home.

We were given the back room to setup camp. It was an open air bamboo hut with palm frond roof in which we set up our tents. It was clearly used as a disco room, with a disco ball, pictures of sexy ladies on the wall and tokenary paintings of Che Guevara and Bob Marley.

It took a while to find the switch to turn the main light off and there were a few disco lights flashed before we got the right one and Mauro got bitten by a spider in the process. It couldn’t have been a poisonous one as he was still alive the next morning.

Day 3 - Canelos to Sarayaku preparations

Canelos was the place where Isabela entered the river to begin her journey to the mouth of the Amazon. Canelos is situated on the Bobonaza river. The Amazon river has many sources, and tributaries that run into various rivers, including the Maranon (translated as sea or not) before the great body of water finally becomes what is known as the Amazon many miles downstream in Peru.

Isabela’s father had travelled 1 month ahead of her and her party to arrange for a fleet of canoes to be waiting for her upon her arrival to Canelos. The Canoes would take her downstream along the Bobonaza river until it reached the Pastaza river. We had arranged with Juan and Heraldo (two men from the remote indigenous village of Sarayaku located on the Bobonaza river, to take us to sarayaku for a couple of nights and then down along the Bobonaza to Andoas on the Peruvian boarder. (Please see my specific page about Saryakau and their international success and struggle against the Ecuadorian government and oil companies).

It was clear Jaun and Heraldo wanted us to take the fibre glass ones, but with a bit of insistence we learned that it was still possible to take a wooden one – but not before we were first given every excuse why the fibreglass ones were better. Some of these reasons were quite legitimate.

The wooden ones weigh a lot more, sit lower in the water (and the river is low at the moment, and require a lot more gasoline. It will also be a lot slower.

Also we were told that there are not many really big canoes anymore. A canoe only last 8 years and requires a very big tree. Given their stance on saving the jungle they don’t want to be seen to be cutting down really large trees that are hundreds of years old. That was all fair enough. But we weren’t asking them to build us a canoe and there was one available the right size that they could take us in if we were prepared to go slower and use more gas and potentially get stuck and have to push if we got stuck on the river bed. We were ok with this .. and so the arrangements were made.