When the bark Alexandra from Norway was missed in the Pacific Ocean near Galapagos in 1907, Norwegian newspaper articles reported more thoroughly than many others about the archipelago. They told phantastic stories about palm groves and a south-sea paradise and claimed that the country still was not lacking in good old Viking spirit. As a result, many Norwegians emigrated to Galapagos. A modern Viking adventure started. But unfortunately they all failed!
The bark .Alexandra from Kristiania has drifted for three months—three endless long months of calm and inactivity. Never has Captain Emil Petersen from Mandal or the 19 other men aboard experienced anything like this. For sure, not many of them have much sailing experience. Petersen himself has plowed the same route across the Pacific for six years, but a fair number of the crew are young people. In recent years it has been considerably more difficult to enlist an experienced crew. Alexandra is made of steel, thus slightly modern but still a pure sailing ship, a three-masted barque. But with few exceptions, Norwegian sailors prefer working aboard modern steamers. The oldest name for the Norwegian capital was Oslo, but in the 1300s it was changed to Christiania. In the 1800s the spelling was changed to Kristiania and then back to Oslo in 1925. Petersen would turn bitter when he recalled how most of his best sailors left him and signed on with the noisy smoke-spewing competitors.He shields his eyes from the stinging sun, which is now right over the top of the mast. Everywhere there are blue skies with scarcely a cloud to be seen. Soon it is half-past twelve. The horizon lies hazy and fuzzy in the muggy heat. Nonetheless he takes the sun's elevation with his sextant and confirms his worst fear: they have drifted far to the northwest during the past 24 hours and are 20 nautical miles farther away from Ecuador and the South American coast. Imagine, they had this coast in sight more than three months ago! The sails and pennants hang lifeless. Only now and then do they stir when a swell causes a little movement of the ship. The rigging creaks sorrowfully, accurately reflecting Petersen's own feelings. Only God knows how often the skipper recalls the fateful delay at Newcastle, Australia. And the cause was simply that he could not round up a crew as quickly as on previous occasions when he prepared for the same sailing trip to Panamá. Consequently, they remained in port nearly one month too long. Although it was over a year ago that the ship put into dock for scraping and caulking, the hull was not in too bad shape before the delay at Newcastle. But on the first day at sea Petersen realized that the ship's bottom was encrusted. Even with a good breeze it was impossible to exceed a speed of more than 7½ knots. Anyway, in the roaring forties the ship progressed eastward toward South America. In a storm east of New Zealand, one of Alexandra's sails blew out because the crew was tardy in making it secure; but otherwise the sailing had gone smoothly and safely on the correct course all the time. There were some minor disciplinary problems but none so severe that the officers could not quickly restore peace and quiet. And now, after 163 days at sea, the hull is so overgrown with seaweed and goose-necked barnacles that below the waterline Alexandra resembles an intertidal rock more than a ship. The stern is especially bad. Petersen can see it when the ship rolls and a four to five inch long “beard” smacks the surface of the water. The vessel seems to be firmly attached to the sea! Without a favorable breeze, the Humboldt Current is the absolute ruler. Daily it pushes Alexandra 20 nautical miles or more in the wrong direction. The mood aboard ship is not good. A couple of weeks after they were driven away from the enticing coastline, there was a mutinous state among the sailors. Part of the crew demanded one of the lifeboats so they might row ashore. It did not help to discourage them by explaining that what they intended to do was suicidal; that nobody could successfully row 400-500 nautical miles against the current. In fact, Petersen had to take out his revolver in order to bring the men to their senses. But soon even Petersen's loyalty to the shipping line of Johanson & Co. at Kristiania begins to weaken. Soon life will be endangered whether or not one stays aboard. To literally sail into starvation is not a pleasant prospect. From calculations made on the 7th of May, 1907, Petersen knows that the Galápagos Islands are just beyond the horizon. He keeps a lookout to the north but the haze limits visibility to barely 15 nautical miles. In every direction he has the same disheartening, unbroken panorama of sea and sky, sky and sea.
The same morning the steward, Gabriel Abrahamsen—who like the captain is from Mandal—tells him privately that there remain less than 100 liters (26 gallons) of drinking water. Confound it! Petersen looks at the glittering surface of the sea. Never has he used more than 70 days on this stretch. Being a conscientious person, he had ordered double rations of water and provisions to be put aboard. But who would have thought that Alexandra would drift for months like a phantom ship? Normally, visibility at sea is best in the early morning. Captain Petersen is not surprised when at five thirty the next morning he sees the profiles of several islands to the north. He has already discussed the matter with his second mate, the Scotsman Morrison. He also informs the cook Abrahamsen that he is thinking of abandoning the ship. Together they bring all the remaining water and provisions on deck in the shade of an awning. There is a short meeting with the crew. The officers explain the situation, point to the outlines of land, explaining that these are the Galápagos Islands, and read aloud what is written about the islands in the manual South America Pilot. The crew is informed that from earlier times the islands were well known to pirates and whalers. The old Spaniards gave the islands the nickname Las Islas Encantadas—the enchanted islands—because of the currents which gave the impression that the islands kept moving. The manual also states that there are fish and tortoises in abundance. Some islands have fruit trees remaining on abandoned plantations, and in the highlands of these islands may be found sources of fresh water. Such an island is the one that is nearest, Floreana, 35 nautical miles east-northeast. The only island with permanent inhabitants is San Cristóbal, still farther to the northeast. In actual fact, there was at this time a settlement on Isabela too. Now that the captain has resigned, the crew hesitates no longer. All of them decide to row to Floreana, obtain provisions and then continue to San Cristóbal. The pile of provisions on deck is pitifully small. It is divided into two portions, one portion stowed aboard each of the two lifeboats together with 20 liters of water. Nine men follow the first mate in one boat, the remaining nine follow the captain into the other. All the Norwegians are in the latter boat. In addition to Petersen they are Abrahamsen the steward, both from Mandel, another steward and the ship's carpenter Herman Karlsen, both from Botne in Vestfold. Before they abandon Alexandra, they write a message in several languages, explaining the circumstances, and nail it to the deck. Then they hoist the Norwegian flag on the mizzen mast and light the lanterns. After this they leave Alexandra to herself. The vessel is in good shape and with a full cargo of 2300 tons of coal aboard. The rowboat with the first mate manages to reach Floreana in three days. The seamen procure food and water and continue on to the inhabited island of San Cristóbal where they arrive in good shape on May 19th. From San Cristóbal they obtain passage to Guayaquil on the Ecuadorian mainland with the schooner Manuel J. Cobos. At the Norwegian consulate they file an official report. The first mate explains that the two boats kept together for two days and nights before they lost sight of each other. His guess is that the captain's boat drifted off and landed on Isabela or Santa Cruz. An Ecuadorian naval ship is sent to the Galápagos to look for the missing sailors. Near Iguana Cove at the southwest point of Isabela, they find the Alexandra wrecked and broken in two. But the afterdeck of the ship is still dry and standing upright on its keel, the Norwegian flag waving defiantly in the breeze. They find no other sign of humans, and when the naval vessel returns to the continent, the ten missing sailors are declared perished. But at home in Mandal, Petersen's relatives fear that the search was not thorough enough. Another person from Mandal, Hans Erichsen in Chile, becomes involved in the matter. He has prospered so handsomely through the country's saltpeter mines that he can afford to charter the small schooner Isadora Jacinta to undertake a more thorough search. The skipper is a German named Bohnhoff. He knows the island localities, and his schooner is easy to maneuver in shallow waters. Bohnhoff and his Isadora Jacinta do a thorough job. After searching three other islands, the schooner arrives at Santa Cruz where eight of the ten shipwrecked sailors are found alive. By now, the men from Alexandra have suffered half a year of the most uncomfortable Robinson Crusoe existence. The two who died are young Fred Jeff from the USA and a German, Martin Schaeffer. The eight survivors are in wretched condition and cannot get away from the island fast enough. While they eat and drink to regain strength, they describe their sufferings under the equatorial sun. On the third night, when they lost contact with the other boat, they drifted off course, going too far north. At dawn, when they realized their situation, they first tried to row against the current in an effort to reach Floreana as planned. For several days they persisted before giving up and then headed for Santa Cruz instead. On the twelfth day they reached shore.
They managed to land their boat on a small beach between black fissured lava rocks, but were so weak that they could barely crawl around in a desperate search for something to drink. No one had strength enough to drag the boat higher up the beach. When they returned after drinking dirty rainwater found amidst the thorn scrub, it was too late. The high tide had moved the boat. It was already wrecked, and practically all their fishing gear, guns, and other equipment was destroyed or lost. Six months of indescribable misery will follow. They make the mistake of remaining in the cactus-studded coastal region of the island. Here they will never find fresh water or the fruits that grow in the interior of the island. For the most part they live on marine turtles, which they kill when the animals crawl up on the beach after sunset. During the first days ashore, the Captain carries Alexandra's gold in a money belt around his waist; but this proves too heavy and uncomfortable. Some days later he decides to bury the gold—valued at 600 pounds Sterling—on one of the beaches. Several of the crew are present as witnesses so as to be sure they can locate the hiding place at a later time. When Isadora Jacinta picked up the bearded and emaciated crew, nobody remembered to retrieve the money belt. It was only in Guayaquil ten days later that one of the crew suddenly jumped up from his chair screaming, “The Gold! The Gold!” As far as is known, the gold still rests in peace out of reach of Norwegians and countless others who have later tried to locate Petersen's money belt. Thus Norwegians made their first sacrifice to the ancient Galápagos dieties. It would not be their last.
Emil Petersen, the captain of Alexandra, is tired of the sea. He stays ashore and prefers not to talk about his adventures in Galápagos. It doesn't help matters that the newspapers are full of reports about Alexandra's strange voyage or that he is celebrated as a hero on returning home. From his point of view there's little to be proud of, having left his ship valued at 30,000 pounds Sterling (which Lloyds replaced while pointing out the disgrace of abandoning a ship in perfect condition). It is also humiliating to think that Alexandra drifted ashore only 30 nautical miles from Port Villamil, Isabela, where they might have obtained help to rescue her and save themselves. In addition, he forgot the ship's gold, buried on a Galápagos beach. But worst of all is the nagging responsibility he feels for the two sailors who perished. The other Norwegians from Alexandra do not grieve so badly. Gabriel Abrahamsen and Herman Karlsen like to talk about their adventures at sea. Karlsen's favorite topic of conversation is the half-year that he was shipwrecked. And the gold that he also forgot, as well as many other stories about buried treasures, make listeners' eyes sparkle. About the same time that Karlsen and his companions struggled to survive on Santa Cruz, a buried pirate treasure was actually found on Genovesa, one of the other islands of the Galápagos. Soon enough, danger and hardship fade into the background, replaced by memories of excitement and exotic nature. Santa Cruz becomes a dream island. Did not Captain Bohnhoff relate that the highlands were so fertile that one could almost see bananas and papayas shooting out of the red-brown soil? And did not the giant tortoises reach a weight of over 300 kilos (about 660 pounds)—like wandering tin cans with the finest contents imaginable! As the years pass, stories about Galápagos become more and more colorful. And when Herman Karlsen signs on as carpenter aboard Fiery Cross before the first World War, skipper Olaf Eilertsen becomes one of his keenest listeners. Eilertsen, who was 28 years old when the news about Alexandra spread throughout the country, is fascinated by the report. He begins to collect charts and literature about this island group. In the autumn of 1924, Eilertsen is a central figure in a group of restless and adventurous men who meet in Larvik. The seven or eight friends agree that their opportunities in the Old Country are rather limited. One must go abroad! But now it is not so easy to immigrate to the United States. Of course, Canada is an alternative, but if one were to leave Norway, shouldn't one try to go to a place with a milder and warmer climate? Olaf Eilertsen always carried his charts and stories to these meetings. And late at night, with tobacco smoke thick beneath the ceiling, and glasses of ale leaving new stains on the Galápagos charts, they daydream. The charts were already cluttered with pencilled notes and small sketches, and judging from these there were more treasures than sand on the beaches of Galápagos! Eilertsen has other sources of information than Herman Karlsen's stories. He knows the very same Aug. F. Christensen of Sandefjord (Eilertsen's cousin Signe was married to Christensen), Ecuador's consul in Norway, and the man behind a series of newspaper articles about the fantastic Galápagos Islands. August F. Christensen—or “Aug. F.” as he is known among friends—is the son of Norwegian whaling pioneer Christen Christensen. In 1905 at the age of 17, Aug. F. was aboard his father's Steamship Admiralen when this, the world's first modern whale-factory ship headed for the Antarctic. From 1907 to 1914 he was head of whaling operations on South Shetland Island and in Chile. While in Chile he spent time travelling and studying the coast of several countries in South America, and taught himself Spanish and English. Aug. F. had scientific interests too, participated in research, produced charts and published articles. Gradually he became more and more interested in the populations of whales along the coast of Ecuador and around Galápagos. On his way home to Norway in 1914 he was interviewed by the newspaper Nordisk Tidende in New York, and on Thursday February 26, one could read on the front page that the young (he was now 26 years old) whaling chief had been granted whaling concessions in Perú and Ecuador. Moreover, he obtained permission to “allow a Norwegian company, under the Ecuadorian flag, to use the island of Floreana in Galápagos.” Later the same year, a series of articles by Aug. F. Christensen about the Galápagos Islands appear in Norwegian newspapers. However, an expedition to the archipelago would not materialize for many more years. The reason might have been the same as 30 years earlier, when plans about northern emigration to Galápagos were “put on hold.” It was in the 1880s that a company was formed in Ecuador for the purpose of inviting emigrants from Switzerland and Scandinavia to settle in Galápagos. At that time it was feared that the USA or some other great power might annex the strategically-situated but sparsely-populated islands. In 1886, Adolfo Beck—one of the men who initiated the forming of “La Compania Colonizadora Suizo-Escandinavia”—presented to the Ecuadorian Government a list of names of those who wanted to travel. (“Distinguished, hard working sailors and fishermen excellently qualified to colonize the islands.”) He also indicated that more information could be expected to follow. But the government in Quito required that all who colonized Galápagos should immediately become Ecuadorian citizens. Beck could not accept these terms and the plan was never implemented. If Aug. F. Christensen received the same information in 1914, it may explain why nothing more was heard of his plans until nine years later. By 1923 Christensen has been living back in Norway for several years. He has followed family tradition of becoming a shipowner and a Consul. Serving as Ecuadorian Consul from 1918, he had an excellent opportunity to reactivate his colonization plans. Finally he reached an agreement which gave 20 hectares of land to each Norwegian who might colonize Galápagos, and exemption from taxes for the first ten years. Moreover, they would be permitted to retain their Norwegian citizenship. Christensen and his group also obtained the rights to all hunting, fishing and trapping on the uninhabited islands which Norwegians might colonize! In February 1923, he was able to invite all “honorable Norwegians” to settle on these “islands of opportunities.” But it was not until one and a half years later, when Olaf Eilertsen tells him about the burning interest in Galápagos among his companions at home in Larvik that something is about to happen. Aug. F. and his influential brother Lars propose the founding of a joint stock company, which would organize and finance a Norwegian colonization attempt in Galápagos. The company will be named La Compania de Floreana.
Nowhere in his many articles about Galápagos during the years 1914 to 1925 does Aug. F. Christensen write about himself visiting the islands. Normally one would have expected references to times and places if he had been ashore; therefore one may conclude that until August 1925 Christensen never set foot upon the black lava shores—not even on Floreana with which he was so preoccupied. If this assumption is correct, none of the leaders or other members of the 1925 and 1926 expeditions had any personal experience with the islands. They must have been inspired through second- and third-hand sources of information. Without counting the three men from the Alexandra, we only know for certain that three other Norwegians had spent more than a few hours ashore prior to 1925: they are the Kristiania journalists Finn Støren, Per Bang, and Bang's good friend Jens Aschehoug. In December 1921, the three arrived via Panamá in Guayaquil, Ecudaor's main seaport. Here they temporarily separated. Støren remained on the continent while the other two travelled the 600 miles west to Galápagos aboard the Cæsar, a 40-ton, two-masted schooner. On the main island of San Cristóbal they were to meet the governor and arrange permission to stay. They intended to remain a few months on uninhabited Floreana. As it turned out, the island's head man was away, but in his place they got to know the 24-year old Manuel Augusto Cobos. After the infested tropical slum quarters of the Port of Guayaquil, where they rarely met anyone who spoke anything but Spanish, the two men were happily surprised to meet such a fine, well-educated gentleman. He spoke French and English fluently, rode about dressed impeccably in a white suit, and lived in lofty style surrounded by servants and a number of beautiful young women. And most remarkable of all, he seemed uninterested in bribes or payment. Señor Cobos was hospitality itself, and the Norwegians were promptly invited to be guests in his home for some days. The transition from Cæsar, where the deck was crowded with provisions, passengers, domestic animals and dogs, to Cobos' spacious hacienda, was unexpected and pleasant. Here in the village of Progreso, three hundred meters above sea-level, the air was fresh compared to the sweltering heat of the coast. After an excellent dinner their host escorted Bang and Aschehoug to the south-facing shaded veranda. A barefoot servant followed, helped each guest to find a comfortable seat, and saw to it that nothing was lacking. Satisfied and happy, the two sat and conversed with their amiable host. Cigars were lit, and while the two from Norway sipped an excellent French cognac and admired the stars through the mosquito netting, Don Manuel told of his father's life and fate. But first they got a resumé of island history: The first European to arrive at the Galápagos Islands was Fray Tomás de Berlanga, Bishop of Panamá. In a calm, he drifted away from the coast with his caravel and by chance arrived at the island group in 1535. Desperately in search of drinking water, he went ashore on several islands, and later on described the strange animals and the dry cactus country that he found there.During the next 300 years the islands continued to be a no-man's land, visited mainly by pirates and whalers. There were los Galápagos, the giant tortoises which made the islands especially attractive to seamen. It was as if they were specially designed for the dark deep holds beneath the decks of sailing ships. Here they were stacked as ballast. To the sailors' astonishment and delight they lived up to a year without light, food or water before they landed in the soup pots. An estimated 200,000 Galápagos were hauled away in this barbarous way. And so the tortoises gave the name “Galápagos” to the island group. “Galápago” is a Spanish name for tortoise or a mantlet or great wooden shield covered with hides to protect an assailant from the bullets of sharpshooters. Except for this, the naming of individual islands was marked by disagreement and confusion. Each island had at least two names assigned to it, one English and one Spanish. With few exceptions, the Spanish names are now the official ones. Bishop Tomás himself never proposed names, but during the following decades Las Islas Encantadas was used. The name “Enchanted Islands” derives from the fact that ocean currents often played—and still do play—tricks on seafarers: the islands seem to be moving around, luring ships to reefs and rocky islands, as if directed by evil forces. Until 1832 nobody lived on the islands for any length of time, apart from shipwrecked sailors and an alcoholic Irishman named Patrick Watkins. In 1807 he deserted a ship which was anchored at Post Office Bay to capture tortoises and leave mail. The famous barrel at Post Office Bay is probably the world's oldest “post office.” It is still there after more than 200 years. The barrel itself is replaced periodically as it deteriorates, but the system is timeless: mariners and others passing by forward mail to each other. For three years and possibly longer, the red-haired Patrick lived in a shelter on Floreana. He cultivated a few vegetables, which he sold to visiting ships in exchange for liquor. It is reported that potential customers often had to search amidst the grass and bushes to find the helpless drunk. He could not, however, have been completely lacking in initiative because he soon tired of his loneliness. One day he stole a rowboat and some weapons, kidnapped three sailors and forced them to sail with him to the Ecuadorian mainland. When the boat finally arrived, the Irishman was the only one aboard.
Authorities in Guayaquil, who believed that he had killed and eaten the others, threw him into prison where he spent the rest of his life. Nevertheless, Patrick is regarded as the first human colonist on Galápagos. In 1832, ten years had passed since Ecuador declared independence from Spain. General José Villamil visited the islands and feared that a foreign nation might be tempted to annex them. Since they were situated due west of Ecuador, he thought it logical that they should become part of the new republic. Lacking a navy, an army colonel was sent to take charge of official matters. In a ceremony on February 12, 1832 at Post Office Bay in the presence of some whalers and a handful of soldiers, the whole island group was annexed. Shortly thereafter a small colony was established on the island with General José Villamil himself as head man. February 12, an official holiday, is now known as Galápagos Day. Coincidently, Charles Darwin was born on this date in 1809! Three years later, when Charles Darwin visited the islands during the famous voyage of the Beagle around the world, he found a well organized colony of about 250 inhabitants. However, problems arose when the government in Quito expelled pardoned prisoners to Floreana. The colony soon broke up because of internal conflicts. This situation was later repeated in a new colonization experiment with prisoners. Over a period of some ten years, two governors were killed and a third forced to flee, while the tortoises were hunted to extinction on the island. After one of the periodic drought years, some colonists established themselves on San Cristóbal but most returned to the continent. Floreana was once more left to the sea lions, iguanas and birds. A group of islands, spread over 80,000 square kilometers (50,000 square miles) and nearly uninhabited, is difficult to administer. When Ecuador elected a president with a religious preoccupation, he wanted to resume colonization and, at the same time, abolish prostitution in the country. He thought he had found the ideal solution to both problems when he shipped 300 prostitutes all at once to Floreana. The women received soap, cooking utensils and a few other items, but they had to arrange food and housing for themselves. Men were not to live on the island. Since Floreana's tortoises were exterminated, whalers did not stop there as frequently as in former years. But an island exclusively inhabited by 300 easy-going women could not be resisted by sailors! It was not long before all the prostitutes had returned to the South American mainland aboard various ships. Until the government in Quito was overthrown, they stayed south of the Ecuadorian border in Perú. In 1869, Manuel Julian Cobos, a man of Spanish descent and father of Manuel Augusto, became interested in San Cristóbal Island. The elder Cobos had great influence both in business and politics. He managed to get mainland prisoners assigned to him, employing them as forced laborers on San Cristóbal. Within a short time he had constructed a seven kilometer-long road from the southeast shore of the main bay up into the fertile highlands. Here he founded a village with 200-300 inhabitants. The community was given the benevolent name of “Progreso” and his house “Hacienda Progreso.” After several years of hectic construction activity, the sugarcane and coffee plantations yielded a good harvest. A modern steam-powered sugar factory was built. At the factory there was also a steam-driven generator, and electric lights were installed. Down at the bay, later known as Wreck Bay because of the conspicuous shipwreck in the middle of the entrance, a small wharf with rail tracks was constructed. Here the governor's house and the island's only lighthouse were also located. With the help of a German engineer, pipes were laid from the crater lake, “El Junco,” in the highlands, to Progreso and down to the wharf. In South America around the turn of the century, interior electric lights and piped water were real luxuries. Progreso lived up to its name during these early years. The schooner, which linked the islands with the continent, was the lifeline of the community and was named after the head man himself. It took care of transporting the island's products eastward to Guayaquil, and the principal provisions back west to the growing island community. The prisoners on San Cristóbal worked like slaves without salary. The demands of the head man and his supervisors were often inhumane, with punishment for laziness and disobedience ranging from flogging and solitary confinement to exile on one of the a desolate islands or even execution. Don Manuel did not hesitate to personally perform the punishments. “My father's methods showed that our family descends from Spain!—… the Spanish inquisition I am referring to,” the junior Manuel commented dryly. Bang stared at him, but the tropical night made it impossible to detect any facial expression. The host continued to relate how his father's ruthlessness finally led to an uprising, as gradually he started to demand as much from regular employees as from ex-prisoners. On the first bloody rebellion he was hurt, retreated, and some days later took cruel revenge. But in 1904 his days were numbered. One of his formerly faithful foremen, Colombian Elias Puertes, could no longer tolerate his dictatorial methods. In a final revolt he stole Cobos' revolver, and from close quarters shot three bullets into his superior's face and abdomen. It is incredible that Cobos managed to escape through a bedroom window on the first floor, and crawled away to hide in the bushes, but he was soon found by his enraged employees who hacked him to death with machetes. “The bedroom in which my father lived is located directly behind us,” Cobos Jr. said. Even though comfortably seated in easy chairs, with the taste of excellent cognac against their palates, a shiver ran down the spines of Bang and Aschehoug. They stared at their host. They noticed the revolver that Cobos carried in his belt since they first met him down at the harbor. Why had he not taken it off? “I was only six years old when my father was killed,” continued Cobos. “I lived on the continent and hardly had any contact with him. I remember him only vaguely. My sister Josephine was 15 years old. Shortly afterwards she married Rogerio Alvarado, and it was they who took over management of the island after my father's death. I was sent to Paris and London to receive an education and learn languages.
Among other things I studied sugar production, so at the present time I try as best I can to keep the old factory going.” He waved his arm with an easy going gesture, and the two Norwegians laughed, much relieved as the sinister mood was broken. They understood that Cobos Jr. was a more peaceful and less hard-working man than his notorious father. Obviously he would have liked to live a more intellectually-stimulating life. And he missed the sweet and easy going student life in Paris. “C'est ne pas gay ici,” sighed Cobos, as he emptied his glass and added, “but 15,000 kilos (33,000 pounds) of sugar each month are also sweet!” He rose from his chair and bid his guests good night. In the absence of the governor, Cobos and Alvarado gave permission to Bang and Aschehaug to stay for a few months on Floreana. Cobos helped them to obtain a donkey called Conejo for 30 sucres (1 sucre was worth about 1 krone or 15 cents US at that time) and an extra hand for 1 sucre a day in the form of a Chilean, whose real name they could never remember, so they only referred to him as “Chili.” Supplies were checked and supplemented with three hens and a rooster before Cæsar carried the two adventurers on the last short stretch westward to Floreana. They were put ashore at Black Beach road on the 24th of January, 1922. Subsequently there followed nearly three months of Robinson Crusoe-like life. They first lived in a tent on the beach but after some days moved up to the old pirate cave in the highlands, about 8 kilometers (5 miles) from Black Beach road. Here they found rumors to be correct; there were large numbers of domestic animals gone wild, including cattle, horses, donkeys, goats and pigs, but it was far from easy to catch them. It is a paradox in this island group that the indigenous wildlife show little fear of humans yet the feral descendents of domesticated animals brought by sailors and settlers are nearly impossible to approach! There were also many wild dogs on the island. Together with wild boars and bulls these animals were most feared by the superstitious locals. Some were so afraid of being attacked that when they traveled to Floreana to fish, they refused to walk more than a few yards from the beach. Although nervous, Chili reluctantly agreed to accompany the two Norwegians when they moved into the large pirate cave. Here old names and dates were carved into the soft tuffacious rock around the opening of the cave. Benches, shelves, and a fireplace with a chimney through the roof had also been constructed and remained just as they were for generations. The nearby freshwater spring had obviously attracted many many a visitor. When night had fallen and darkness stood like a wall against the cave opening, it was important to keep one's imagination under control. The men did not get much sleep until they became accustomed to the songs of crickets, occasionally mixed with the lowing of cattle, and the barking and growling of dogs—and stopped anticipating the sighing and groaning of deceased cave dwellers! As might be expected, shovels were used for activities other than erecting poles and fences. But they did not find any pirate's treasure around the cave or at the beach. Animals they managed to catch were intended to be confined behind fences and barbed wire. Some cows were trapped in snares, but after being dragged into the enclosure, they quickly broke out again. Wild donkeys proved too clever to be lured into snares. So, they had to be satisfied with Conejo and the chickens. Towards the end of March Cæsar dropped anchor again bringing Finn Støren to join his friends. But first, the three went on Cæsar for a week's cruise to Isabela to visit the other settlement in the island group. Sailing with the current to Isabela was quick. There the Norwegians visited the island's two small villages with a total of a hundred inhabitants. Port Villamil is situated on the southern coast and sightseeing there was soon completed. But to get to Santo Tomás they had to ride inland on horseback for five hours. Just as today, Galápagos saddles were made from hardwood. Unaccustomed to this mode of transportation, three rather stiff and sore tourists late that night crawled back aboard Cæsar. The return trip to Floreana was a near repetition of the Alexandra cruise 15 years earlier. The hull of Cæsar was well overgrown, and in the plankton-rich water it became worse when the wind abated. For 14 days they tacked and drifted, drifted and tacked, before altogether giving up their attempt to reach Floreana. Instead, they sailed up Isabela's west coast to the famous Tagus Cove. This bay is considered the best harbor in the islands. The numerous names carved and painted on the surrounding cliffs revealed its popularity among sailors, especially from times when tortoises were plentiful. Not a drop of fresh water was to be found here, but with plenty of fish and sea turtles they did not suffer, and could continue their voyage up the west coast and around the northern end of Isabela. Once again they tried to tack south to Floreana.
On the 25th day Cæsar still drifted with limp sails only 20 nautical miles from Isabela's northern tip. The Norwegians realized that they would never return to Black Beach Road. Støren, especially, was upset at having missed the experience of staying ashore, but now there was only talk of survival. Thirty-five days after leaving Port Villamil they finally arrived at Esmeraldas, mainland Ecuador's northernmost coastal town. The event was described by Per Bang himself: “As quickly as we could we walked to the town's only hotel and ordered a magnificent meal. But being unaccustomed to large amounts of food, the effect was like brandy on a savage, and soon I found myself beneath the table. Thus ended the voyage. But in retrospect I have only pleasant memories about the happy time on the interesting Pacific islands.”
The fact that Norwegian and local lives were endangered while aboard Cæsar in 1922 did not seem to frighten the promoters of La Compania de Floreana. Time softens unpleasant memories, and we have to believe Bang when, a few years later, he described the months in Galápagos as such happy ones. Finn Støren, who spent more time adrift in the waters between the islands than ashore, made some weighty pronouncements: “At the time I visited the islands there were two colonies, one on San Cristóbal and another on Isabela (Albemarle). The former had about 200, the latter about 100 inhabitants. They were happy people. There were wives who prepared food. A cabin in which to live, food in unlimited quantities, together with total and infinite freedom to be enjoyed in the world's best climate. Is that not happiness? Could one wish for anything better? On San Cristóbal there are about 1,000 acres of cultivated land but there could be tenfold more. The soil is more-or-less free of rocks and easy to cultivate. About 10,000 cattle roam freely, but there is room for 50,000. It is a marvellous island, with water in abundance. Altogether there are five larger islands of similar fertility, some bigger, some smaller than Cristóbal. On these islands there should also be soil for new undertakings. Colonists could settle either on San Cristóbal, Isabela, Floreana, Santa Cruz or Santiago, all of which present great opportunities. The problem of water can be solved satisfactorily. All is arranged by nature so that an industrious and energetic colonist could be happy…” Støren continues, mentioning commercial enterprises that he thinks would be profitable:
Klippfisk. prepared from the cod-like grouper, known locally as bacalao. Støren says that it only takes one week to prepare through drying and that there is “…great demand for it in Ecuador and neighboring countries. At the present time it is an industry that yields excellent profits to anyone willing to initiate it.”
“Klippe” is Norwegian meaning rock. Rockfish are prepared by leaving the flesh to dry on rocks or on stakes of wood.
Whale and Seal. Both “… occur in abundance along the coast of Galápagos, and would provide a company with good earnings through judicious management. It is estimated by experts that the region can yield 20-30 thousand barrels of whale oil per year.”
Other Fisheries. “Galápagos abounds with lobster, which can be canned for export. Likewise, pearl oysters are found in large quantities in the islands.”
The statement about oysters is in error.
Agriculture. Støren describes how practically all tropical
fruits, coffee, sugar and all kinds of vegetables are successfully
cultivated in the fertile soil. “With rational management there
will be business.“
“Cattle have lived on the islands from the time that the first
colonists brought them from the mainland. They multiply rapidly and
at the present time about 90,000 head live there and thrive on the
fertile grassy plains. The wild cattle are large and healthy and
easily domesticated. The Ecuadorian government encourages their
capture and domestication.“
Støren considers how a Norwegian colony in the islands should be organized after the colonists have arrived. His perceptions are worth quoting, if for no other reason than to reflect the Norwegian attitude about Latin Americans in the 1920s: “A question repeatedly asked: Why have the Ecuadorians themselves not utilized the islands?“ “The reason, you will see, is that Ecuador is a very large country, about the size of France, but with only two million inhabitants. Of these about 100,000 are whites, while native American Indians compose the bulk of the population. “These whites, who possess the intelligence and energy, own, for this reason an abundance of good land within the mainland borders. It is inconceivable for an Ecuadorian to look for challenge overseas, all the more since they are not sailors and have little or no understanding of the value of the ocean. “An Ecuadorian is accustomed to the climate where he now lives, and he sees abundant future work for himself and his family in his own country. They are not interested in other places to colonize, which have the same or perhaps better possibilities.” If one considers Støren's detailed narrative as well as quotations from the invitation of February 1923 of Ecuador's consul general in Norway, Aug. F. Christensen, one can better understand why so many believed that Galápagos was the land of the future: Whatever interests Norwegians may have, I will recommend Floreana as the best starting point. What possibilities are there on Floreana and the rest of the islands?
Firstly as a supply port, since with the opening of the Panamá Canal, there will be ample scope for trade in coal, crude oil and other supplies.
Whaling, sealing and fishing generally. (Christensen illustrates with quotations from Dr. Wolf who, during an expedition, stated that whales, seals, mussels, fish, sea turtles and lobsters were found in abundance.)
Colonization.
The running of hotels and facilities for bathing and recreational opportunities such as hunting and fishing.
Cultivation and utilization of the islands' natural resources. These are as follows:
Salt, lime and sulfur-mines.
Pastures, where, as mentioned, domestic animals already occur in a semi-wild state, including cattle, donkeys, goats, sheep, pigs and chickens.
The fertile soil where there is successful cultivation … (He mentions the same domestic plants as did Støren).
The less fertile soil … (Here he mentions the orchilla lichen for the extraction of dye, wood for fuel, and tortoises for valuable meat and oil.)
The coastal regions: Land and marine iguanas still occurring in the thousands along with sea turtles, sun themselves on slopes where they lay their tasty eggs.
And finally, seen from a more scientific point of view, to study and utilize the island's rare and most interesting flora and fauna.
After reviewing at length Ecuador's laws and explaining how well the authorities arrange everything for the colonists (among other things, exemption from tax for ten years with a possible extension), towards the end of the pamphlet, in six foolscap pages, there appears the following: Until recently the remoteness of this country has been disadvantageous for its participation in world trade, but with the opening of the Panamá Canal there has been a great change. The shipping routes between Ecuador and Europe has been shortened by more than fifty percent. Everyone understands what this means for the country's development. The country's own sons and the foreigners who come to Ecuador, move mainly along the big rivers into the interior to the frontier cocoa plantations, to oil fields, gold and silver mines, and to the valuable forests and extensive plains of the east, leaving the islands in the ocean to the people of sea-faring nations who first settle on them; and why should they not be Norwegians? And best of all the famous invitation which caught the attention of Norwegians all over the country, and which about 300 took so seriously that they sold their houses, land, and winter clothing: The Ecuadorian Government welcomes every honest Norwegian. Quito & Guayaquil, January 1914/February 1923, Aug. F. Christensen. The first expedition needed no advertisement for crew and participants. This was good material for newspapers—a more exotic place could hardly be imagined than the Galápagos Islands in the Pacific. One portrayed a Norwegian trade and whaling station with visions of a Norwegian takeover and settlements complete with Norwegian flags on tall flagpoles in front of white-painted houses! The consular office in Sandefjord received telephone calls and visits from people who wanted more details, all of whom received a copy of the brochure with the invitation. Summaries were published in newspapers, first throughout Vestfold county, later in the rest of the country. Christensen and Eilertsen could choose from scores of interested young men, often well-educated. There were craftsmen, agriculturists, engineers and teachers, some of whom were newly educated but out of work and filled with adventurous spirit and self-reliance. At the same time as details about the nature and purpose of the expedition began to take shape, the company decided to buy a Swedish three-masted motor-schooner named Start. She was in good shape, in spite of being built of steel in Scotland back in 1895. Her auxiliary engine was a Swedish Bolinder diesel.
Accompanied by a crew of nine, Eilertsen took possession of the schooner at Gævle, Sweden. From there they set sail on December 12, 1924 bound first for Gotland Island to take on a cargo of limestone. Though Start seemed a suitable name for this first expedition ship, the schooner was renamed Floreana. The trip became unexpectedly difficult for the schooner with its new name and crew. Part of the machinery broke down and Bothnia Bay was at its winter worst. Plans to get home for Christmas had to be abandoned. On Christmas Eve they found shelter in a small Swedish port. The next phase of the voyage became even more dramatic when, during a storm, the chief engineer suddenly became unconscious. Eilertsen accepted an offer of assistance from a steamer and sailed into Copenhagen. At the hospital the sick man was found to be suffering from a brain hemorrhage. A new engineer-machinist was hired, and after a delay of eight days in Denmark, Floreana was on her way to Sarpsborg, Norway. Here they unloaded the limestone before the last short trip across the Oslofjord to Sandefjord. Meanwhile, the newspapers Amtstidende and Tønsberg Blad eagerly latched onto rumors of near wreckage, unpaid salvage wages, an epidemic among the crew and quarantine in Copenhagen. Apparently, many members should have withdrawn from the expedition. The following day it was all denied by Christensen. “Nonsense, utter rubbish and amazing intrigue,” he stated bluntly. According to Christensen, the rumors originated from a man in Larvik whose request to participate in the expedition had been declined because of poor conduct. At the end of January 1925, Floreana finally arrived from Sarpsborg and lay to at Stub in the fjord of Sandefjord. The pilot Jensen Eian guided her on this stretch and could not praise the schooner enough, her hull, rigging and engine being the best. He comments to Sandefjord's newspaper: “Had I been a little younger, I would have joined this expedition.” Jensen Eian's weighty statement stopped the rumors for the time being. The A/S Framnæs Mek. shipyard in Sandefjord was founded by Aug. F. Christensen's father, Christen Christensen. Family ties and contacts are welcome in order to get FloreanaFloreanaØstlandspostenFloreanaØstlandspostenFloreanaTidens TegnVerdens GangVGTidens Tegn'sFloreanaFloreanaIsabelaLa Compania de FloreanaFloreanaDølenFloreanaFloreanaFloreanaFloreanaFloreanaFloreanaAlexandraFloreana