Wild Coast
Page 41
Pirara
Pirara River, 3.1, 3.2
Poppy Seed
Port Kaituma, 2.1, 2.2, 2.3
Potaro River
Price, Richard, 6.1, 6.2
Prokes, Mike, 2.1, 2.2, 2.3
Pronk, Lieutenant
R
Raleigh, Sir Walter, itr.1, itr.2, itr.3, itr.4, 3.1, 4.1, 9.1
Amazons, 9.1, epl.1
cassiri, 3.1
death
El Dorado, itr.1, 3.1, 3.2, 3.3
women
woorali, 3.1
Ramprakash, Mark
Rawlins, Rondell ‘Fineman’
Rémont, Jérôme
Reynestein Estate
Rijkaard, Frank
Rodney, Donald
Rodney, Dr Walter, 1.1, 1.2
Rodway, James, 1.1, 1.2, 4.1, 5.1, 9.1
Roopnaraine, Dr Rupert, 1.1, 7.1, atw.1
Bouterse, 8.1, 8.2
Jonestown, 1.1, 2.1
Working People’s Alliance
Roraima
Rosenberg, Janet, 1.1, 1.2, 1.3
Royale, 9.1, 9.2
Rupununi, 3.1, 3.2, 3.3
Dadanawa
El Dorado
Fort New Guinea
Kanukus
Karanambu
Lethem
Manari
Pirara
revolt, 3.1, 3.2
Rockview
Surama
water monkey
Waterton
Waugh
Yurupakari
Ryan, Leo, 2.1, 2.2, 2.3, 2.4
S
Saiman, 8.1, 8.2, 8.3, 8.4, 8.5, 8.6
Saramacca River
Saramaccaners, 6.1, 7.1
Sarkozy, President
Schomburgk, Robert, 3.1, 3.2, 5.1
Seacoast
Seaton, George, 9.1, 9.2
Seedorf, Clarence
Serao, Gary
Shafiqah
Shakespeare, William
Shulinab
Singh, Joe, 2.1, 2.2, 3.1
Siong, Maysy
Siong, René
Skin Island
Skinny
Smith, Sergeant
Smith, Nicol
Sommelsdijk, Lord, 8.1, 8.2, 8.3
Spence, John
Springlands
St-Georges
St-Jean, 9.1, 9.2
St-Joseph, 9.1, 9.2
St-Laurent-du-Maroni, 9.1, 9.2
Stedman, Adriana, 8.1, 8.2
Stedman, John, 6.1, 7.1, 7.2, 7.3, 8.1, 8.2
Coermotibo
Commewijne
Cottica, 8.1, 8.2
Cottica rebels, 7.1, 8.1, 8.2, 8.3, 8.4
Fort Zeelandia
and Joanna, 7.1, 8.1, 8.2, 8.3
Paramaribo
planters, 4.1, 4.2, 7.1
women, 7.1, 7.2
Stedman, Johnny (son), 8.1, 8.2, 8.3
Stephano
Stonhuku, 6.1, 6.2
Sue, Chan A
The Sultan
Surama, 3.1, 3.2
Suriname, itr.1, itr.2, 3.1, 5.1, 5.2, 6.1, 6.2, 8.1, 8.2
Albina, 8.1
bauxite mining
Bonis
Bouterse, 8.1, 8.2
Coermotibo
Commenwijne
Cottica Rebels, 7.1, 7.2, 7.3, 8.1, 8.2
Cottica River, 7.1, 8.1
Hinterland War, 8.1, 8.2, 8.3, 8.4, 8.5, 8.6, 9.1
independence
Marowijne, 8.1, 8.2
Nieuw Nickerie
Oostwestverbinding
Paramaribo, 7.1, 7.2, 8.1
Saramaccaners
Seacoast, 6.1, 6.2
Talkie-talkie, 6.1, 6.2
Udenhout
Willoughbyland
T
Takatu, Ruver
Talkie-talkie, 6.1, 6.2
Treaty of Kourou, 8.1, 8.2
Treaty of Tordesillas
Trollope, Anthony, itr.1, 4.1, 5.1
Turtle Mountain
U
Udenhout, Wim, 8.1, 8.2
Uitvlught
Uruca
V
van Ceulen, Antoinette
Van Hoogenheim, Governor, 5.1, 5.2, 5.3, 5.4, 5.5
Van Lentzing, Captain
Vang Pao
Venezuela, itr.1, itr.2, 2.1, 3.1
Vespucci, Amerigo
Voltaire, 3.1, 6.1, 6.2, 6.3, 9.1
W
Wageningen
Wales
Walton Hall, 3.1, 3.2
Wanhatti
Wapisiana, 3.1, 3.2, 3.3
Warau
Waterton, Anne-Mary
Waterton, Charles, 3.1, 3.2, 3.3, 4.1, 7.1
Waterton, Edmund
Waugh, Evelyn, itr.1, itr.2
Berbice
Georgetown, 1.1, 1.2, 1.3, 3.1
Rupununi, 3.1, 3.2, 3.3, 3.4, 3.5, 3.6, 3.7, 3.8, 3.9, 3.10
Suriname
Westoll, Andrew, 7.1, 8.1
Wiertz van Coehorn, Adriana, 8.1, 8.2
Willoughby, Francis
Willoughbyland, 6.1, 6.2, 6.3, 6.4, 6.5, 7.1
Wismar
Wyapoko River. see Oyapok River
Y
Yurupakari
Z
Zaahid, 8.1, 8.2
Zam-Zam, Captain, 6.1, 6.2
Zola, Emile
Zorgvliet
ILLUSTRATIONS
For over four hundred years, the Guianas have thrilled and appalled Europeans in equal measure. One of the first explorers was Sir Walter Raleigh (visiting what is now part of Venezuela). His account of his travels, called The Discoverie of the Large, Rich and Bewtiful Empire of Guiana (1596), would lead men to believe in a golden city, and a land of limitless wealth and comely Amazons. The truth, however, has proved rather more complex. (Illustration credit i1.1)
These days, across the Guianas, Amerindians make up only about three per cent of the population. Initially, they were treated like souvenirs and brought back to Europe as gifts (there are records of Guianese serving at the court of the Medicis). Later, however, they became a minor aristocracy, respected for their skill in tracking down runaway slaves. (Illustration credit i1.2, i1.3)
The Macushi farmer and hunter, Daniel Allicock. He will stay in the jungle for up to a week with only some matches, salt, and his bow and arrows. He fears nothing but ghosts and wild pigs. (Illustration credit i1.4)
In the water, giant otters are half-puppy, half-torpedo. This one is only young, but one day it’ll be as long as a man. When it swims everything folds flat – claws, ears and spatula-tail – like some fish-seeking missile. Although strictly speaking, they’re super-sized weasels, giant otters were originally referred to as ‘water dogs’ and, because of their high metabolism, they’re always hungry. This makes them one of the most voracious predators of all. (Illustration credit i1.5)
Charles Waterton (1782–1865), left, was the first to bring back news of the extraordinary wildlife of the Guianas. He also helped unlock the secret of the dart poison, curare, and opened the world’s first wildlife park. Today, the task of protecting the wildlife falls to – among others – Diane McTurk (right). Her family have been in Guyana (formerly British Guiana) for over 200 years. (Illustration credit i1.6, i1.7)
Throughout the Guianas, there are no natural harbours, no railways, and only a handful of roads inland. Forest covers four-fifths of its surface, and without a plane it can take up to four weeks to reach the interior. Here, an ex-British army truck overturns in the Rupununi, and the crew will simply have to right it themselves. (Illustration credit i1.8)
For the Wapisianas of southern Guyana, life is a constant struggle with spirits and dengue fever. Vaqueiros or cowboys (left) rest at Dadanawa, after an exhausting round-up. The ranch loses up to 400 cattle a year to jaguars (right), who are considered so common that they are shot as pests. (Illustration credit i1.9, i1.10)
In 1977, the Rev Jim Jones (1931–78) led his followers to a promised land in remotest Gu
yana. As his sanity unravelled, so The People’s Temple imploded. The murder/suicide at ‘Jonestown’ left over 900 dead (right), and is still – war and natural disaster aside – the biggest single loss of life in modern times. Today, it’s all things to all pundits: a conspiracy, a collective failure of mental health, or the end of a psychedelic era. (Illustration credit i1.11, i1.12)
Jonestown now. Since 1978 no one has lived here, and they probably never will. All that remains are rusty machines and old shoes. After the killings, Mr Duke (above) was one of the first on the scene. ‘This is where the bodies were,’ he said. ‘All piled up. Three deep.’ (Illustration credit i1.13)
No people have died for the Guianas quite so willingly as the Dutch. They were on this coast from 1595 to 1977, arriving long before the English, and leaving long after. The river banks of the Essequibo were, for a while, the richest farmlands in the world, and were soon a hot bed of debauchery and decadence (left). But there was nothing feeble about their forts. Vlaggen Eyland, or Flag Island, is still a formidable sight, although Fort Nassau (below) succumbed to the bloody revolt of 1763. (Illustration credit i1.14, i1.15, i1.16)
Slavery has left an indelible impression on the Guianas. Not only did it transform the population but also the landscape. Fly along the Guyanese coast, and you’ll see nothing but sugar fields (and, for each square mile of cane, over ten million tons of earth was moved). Meanwhile, in Suriname, the runaway slaves fled inland, where their descendants (above) still live ancient, African lives. (Illustration credit i1.17)
With the end of slavery came the beginning of indenture. Between 1838 and 1917, almost a quarter of a million Indians arrived in Guyana (above), and in Suriname there were also the Javanese. It was like The Exodus in reverse, a flight into bondage. Under the terms of their contracts, the ‘Coolies’ (as they became known) were no better off than the Africans before. Not only were they confined to their plantations, they had also inadvertently agreed to being fined, starved, locked up for absence, abandoned, underpaid, flogged and doused in salt pickle. Many had thought they were coming to an earthly paradise and, in the century to 1950, there were at least sixteen major revolts. (Illustration credit i1.18)
Even today, the Guianas are not easy to understand. Guyana alone is riven by over 1,500 rivers, and much of it is barely accessible. Meanwhile, although Suriname is the size of Florida, its population would barely fill a London borough. Almost one in six of the inhabitants is descended from maroons, or runaway slaves (above), and, at night, the country all but disappears, producing too little light for the satellite cameras. (Illustration credit i1.19)
For the first two centuries, most of de Wilde Kust, or ‘The Wild Coast,’ fell under the control of the Dutch. Although they looked impressive, they only ever visited about four per cent of the land they claimed. Their ‘Court of Policy’ was, in reality, merely a parliament of ants. (Illustration credit i2.1)
Into the great Surinamese slave revolt of 1769–77 came a Scotsman, Captain John Stedman (above). His account of five years of jungle warfare reads like a Georgian rendering of Apocalypse Now. But it was an unlawful marriage to a beautiful slave, Joanna (above), that caught the eye of abolitionists. This tragic tale would bring slavery one step closer to the end. (Illustration credit i2.2, i2.3)
In Paramaribo, the Dutch are still remembered at a great annual lampoon, the Snow Ball. (Illustration credit i2.4)
Often Suriname still feels like a place forged from turmoil of Stedman’s day. Out in the Hinterlands, his illustration of a rebel arouses great interest (above left), whilst at Alkmaar (above right), the author uncovers the tomb of Stedman’s great friend, Charles Godeffroy. Meanwhile, between campaigns, Stedman took a house on the Waterkant in Paramaribo (below). In the revolts and fires that followed, the houses may have changed, but the grandeur’s just the same. (Illustration credit i2.5, i2.6, i2.7)
Deep in the Surinamese interior, the maroons created a world of secrecy and refuge. Having extracted a treaty from the Dutch, they were in no mood to give up their African lives, and nor are their descendants. The Saramaccaners (above) still speak a vivid, seventeenth-century slave language, Talkie-Talkie, and have never abandoned their drums or their gods. (Illustration credit i2.8)
To the maroons, all animals are sacred (even those of a strange new continent, like this one, the tapir), and all violations of their territory are an invitation to war. (Illustration credit i2.9)
In 1986, an old war re-started, more vicious than ever. The N’Djuka maroons, led by Ronnie Brunswijk (left), took on the coastland forces of Marxist dictator, Desi Bouterse (right). During the next six years madness ensued, fuelled by heroin and voodoo. Brunswijk’s rebels, known as ‘The Jungle Commandos’ (below), wore amulets against the bullets and, once again, the Amerindians were sent in to flush them out. Eventually, France brokered a truce, although everyone kept their guns. (Illustration credit i2.10, i2.11, i2.12)
French Guiana, or Guyane, had never enjoyed much success with slaves. Two years after abolition in 1848 a new experiment began. The colony became a giant penal settlement, killing almost every other convict. In France it became known as ‘the dry guillotine’, and is now a matter of public shame. At its heart was St-Laurent-du-Maroni (depicted above by the convict Lagrange). It had its own ‘Little Paris’, and a vast camp for processing human beings, 3,000 at a time. The camp only closed in 1946 and has lain empty ever since (below). It was the very antithesis of El Dorado: a city of mud, built to impoverish, in the worship of work. (Illustration credit i2.13, i2.14)
Although once considered salubrious, the Iles du Salut became a prison within a prison. They were both idyllic and lawless. On Royale (above), a convict might grow vegetables, or make souvenirs for passing cruise ships, and yet only two per cent of the murders were ever resolved. The punishment for killing another inmate or assaulting a surveillant was, of course, the blade (bottom right). But tougher still was Devil’s Island (at the centre of the picture above). Its most famous prisoner was Captain Alfred Dreyfus (below left), who was here from 1895 to 1899. ‘So profound is my solitude,’ he wrote, ‘I often seem to be lying in a tomb.’ (Illustration credit i2.15, i2.16, i2.17)
The solitary confinement block on St-Joseph. A man could spend up to five years in here, hearing nothing but the surf. The penal colony only finally gave way to international outrage on the eve of World War Two. Over the next six years a quarter of the convicts died of malnutrition; the settlements were finally closed in 1946. The last prisoners – Indochinese rebels – remained however until 1963. The land was then handed over to the European space agency, in whose hands it remains. (Illustration credit i2.18)
ALSO BY JOHN GIMLETTE
Panther Soup: Travels Through Europe in War and Peace
Theatre of Fish: Travels Through Newfoundland and Labrador
At the Tomb of the Inflatable Pig: Travels Through Paraguay