The Riverbones
CBC Books | | Posted: January 9, 2019 10:09 PM | Last Updated: January 9, 2019
Andrew Westoll
Andrew Westoll spent a year living the dream of every aspiring primatologist: following wild troops of capuchin monkeys through the remote Central Suriname Nature Reserve, the largest tract of pristine rainforest left on earth. But that was only the beginning.
Westoll left the world of science altogether when he departed Suriname six years ago. But the country itself stayed with him and became a strange obsession. Nestled above Brazil and the Upper Amazon Basin, Suriname has a legitimate claim to the title The Last Eden, as 90 per cent of this mysterious country is covered in thick, neo-tropical jungle. Westoll read everything he could find about the old Dutch colony — wild stories about secretive Amazonian shamans, superstitious tribes of ex-African slaves, outlaw Brazilian gold-miners, a ghostly lake with the dead canopy of a drowned rainforest at its surface and an unsolved political murder mystery that continues to haunt the nation. Five years passed, and Westoll yearned to return to the rainforest. Then the opportunity finally arose.
Westoll didn't think twice — he immediately quit his job, gave away most of his possessions, and kissed the love of his life goodbye. For the next five months, he explored the most surreal country in South America for a glimpse of its quintessential soul. He struggled up dark neo-tropical rivers, immersed himself in Surinamese Maroon culture and met a cast of characters whose eccentricities perfectly mirrored the strangeness of their land. (From Emblem Editions)
Westoll left the world of science altogether when he departed Suriname six years ago. But the country itself stayed with him and became a strange obsession. Nestled above Brazil and the Upper Amazon Basin, Suriname has a legitimate claim to the title The Last Eden, as 90 per cent of this mysterious country is covered in thick, neo-tropical jungle. Westoll read everything he could find about the old Dutch colony — wild stories about secretive Amazonian shamans, superstitious tribes of ex-African slaves, outlaw Brazilian gold-miners, a ghostly lake with the dead canopy of a drowned rainforest at its surface and an unsolved political murder mystery that continues to haunt the nation. Five years passed, and Westoll yearned to return to the rainforest. Then the opportunity finally arose.
Westoll didn't think twice — he immediately quit his job, gave away most of his possessions, and kissed the love of his life goodbye. For the next five months, he explored the most surreal country in South America for a glimpse of its quintessential soul. He struggled up dark neo-tropical rivers, immersed himself in Surinamese Maroon culture and met a cast of characters whose eccentricities perfectly mirrored the strangeness of their land. (From Emblem Editions)
From the book
Tonight, on my way down the stairs from the cookhouse, a small bat slams into my hand. He drops straight to the ground and lands with a soft thud. I've always believed they would steer clear — a basic assumption of life in the rainforest is that bats will avoid you — but it turns out that's not true. I've thumped this one with my hand and now he's a dark stillness on the ground.
I turn on my headlamp and lean closer. He squirms away, pulling himself along the ground pitifully. He tries to fly but only makes it half a metre. This bat is going to die tonight. I have killed this animal and he's not even dead yet.
I follow him for an hour, from the clearing in front of the cookhouse into the dense jungle underbrush. I don't shine the light directly on him; I lose him a number of times. The humid air thickens as the forest wraps around us, the musty stench of decaying plants, the lowering canopy of twisted vines, the astonishing claustrophobia of innumerable whispering trees. To my left the moonlight dapples a bank of delicate ferns. To my right, an impenetrable thicket of lianas dangles a metre or so off the ground. Underfoot, the soft floor of the jungle, the black soil made of everything dead or dying.
From The Riverbones by Andrew Westoll ©2009. Published by Emblem Editions.