Human Rainforest

A ship is safe in harbour, but that's not what ships are for.

― John A. Shedd

It happened suddenly. Out of nowhere, I’d say. Or out of the blue and red and yellow like the feathers of a magnificent scarlet macaw in the shades of my ship’s rudders. What a beauty she was. The Scarlet Macaw in her most glorious days. Three-masted; square-rigged on the foremast and mainmast and lateen-rigged on the mizzenmast; six sails; carvel-built carrack in deep scarlet. I faintly suspected that it would eventually happen, but since I didn’t believe it, my hopes didn’t wake up at all. Usually, this is the case when you don’t expect it, your greatest adventure can strike when you don’t think about it. And then it comes. Quite unexpectedly.

It was similar with the expedition. We left at dawn. Juan Sebastián Elcano – a Castilian navigator of Basque origin, the first volunteer to complete circumnavigation of the globe – a continuous loop to surpass Magellan’s expedition in which he participated, although he was not fully appreciated. A noble man of an honourable character. He fought in the Italian Wars, left his son Domingo and his wife – the beautiful Maria de Vidaurreta – at home, sacrificing his family life dearly for the sea solitude and peril of the barbarians we met in foreign lands. Francisco, Miguel, Martín – pilots; Nicholas – chief steward; Hans – gunner; Vasco – able seaman; Patrício – apprentice seaman; Gaspar – page boy; mariners… Castilians, Basques, Venetians, Greeks, Galicians, Genoese, Germans, Portuguese… My crew. I still hear Juan’s low voice breaking through the deck, urging me to leave the ship and save the life. Yet since I was the captain, walking away before the others would be the greatest disgrace. So, I stayed. I stayed on Scarlet Macaw forever telling you the story of my victory, but a victory tainted by defeat. Failure of a sunken ship on the edge of human society, as we discovered municipalities that abandoned civilisation in its entirety, strictly based on their own rainforest resources that were and still are abundantly surrounded by defenceless nature.

But that’s not entirely true, although I would like to believe this version of the story as I care about my reputation. The truth is, my crew marooned me on the coast of Coiba Island. It was after we passed the Philippines on the route to the Moluccas and Spice Islands. After the Battle of Mactan, I wrote a letter to King Charles V interpreting the reasons for my prolonged stay on Coiba in the Pacific. Since my comrades lost the battle and our allies remained anonymous and apolitical on the occasion, I was forced to hide in the rainforest. The only reason they spared my life was to transport me to a place of safety and crucify me. This is what I would call the gratitude shown to me by my closest friends, the crew members of my ship, after crossing many lands, from the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans to the Indian Ocean, where the Cebuano tribes converted to Christianity, which did not stop them from fighting us, Europeans. I was convinced that we had brought peace to the islands and developed a close relationship with their kings and lords. I was wrong. Some of our companions who were still imprisoned in Cabo Verde severely suffered and required immediate release. If that can still happen, I have no idea as I was deserted by the ship crew as well. After so many discoveries, bringing a valued cargo of nutmeg and clove, proving the roundness of the world, I can be sure they returned from the east while our journey began in the west.

Yesterday I went fishing in a little red boat that reminded me of the Scarlet. I came back with nothing but some wild creature tangled in my nets, luckily nothing sinister. For a few good yards, I had the chance to drag this body under the water glistening in the sun like fresh snow or freshly shattered glass, not knowing where it came from until I reached the land. I have tried to convince myself that there are no dead body parts from the members of my ship's crew, yet I'm not sure if I succeeded. I’ve never been too convincing to anyone, including myself. If only I hadn't had dreams every night that all my comrades were drowning in dangerous waters, I would have felt at ease. But it hasn’t occurred yet since I landed on this poisonous for my memory island.

This is the end. My entire crew, consisting of five ships of 241 men, is extinct, almost like a scarlet macaw – a bird of extraordinary beauty whose feathers are lit by the morning sun like the colours of my beloved ship. Everything is gone. All that is left is a meagre memory of when a malevolent force won the battle for our lives. All my crewmen rose up profoundly pledged to the expedition and all failed to see the successful end. All buried under the rainforest of diseases, enemies, and the cataclysm of sunken vessels. The only survivor – my golden Scarlet Macaw – has vanished from my sight forever, so I believe she has disappeared from earthly life as well.

What a trip! Hernándo was among us. It was he who documented the whole excursion, every detail captured by his fountain pen. The same is likely to happen with this exotic landscape that surrounds me. It’s marvellous! Someone will surely soon paint these psychedelic parrots, thick beaked toco toucans, meretricious monkeys, and bare-throated tiger herons and place them in the dining room to feed the eyes whilst consuming the fruits of this world. Astounding! After all this time of travel, I never found a moment to immerse myself in it, as I always seemed to be absorbed either in the plans to explore the world, practical preparations for the expeditions, including obtaining permits and funds, and the search for the perfect crew members, or the expedition itself requiring considerable effort and skills from everyone involved. But now it’s time for nature. I observe it with good hope for the future, which is purely satisfying. Nevertheless, I am also considered the last survivor of this escapade. And who knows if the natives of this land will not eat me for dinner. I am not entirely sure if someone will come to rescue me this time, although I hope they will at least allow me to live in their plant kingdom as long as I can keep them company and perhaps even lend a hand with the act of survival in the forest. Although I did not win the Battle of Mactan, I can use a sword, spear, or crossbow. I was also trained in the handling of ammunition; I will know how to load a gun. I ended their journey on their terms, now I have to implement new rules on my own path of destiny. I guess someone has to be useful.

García Jofre de Loaísa

Captain of the Scarlet Macaw

6 July 1526

– THE END –

Although my story is based on several historical facts, this is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Thank you for reading!