 Ports of Call! On blue horizons far at the world's end, strange fascinating lands back in us, bid us revel in their exotic splendors, come with us as we head for Ports of Call. Sailing southward among the palm-lined islands of the Blue Caribbean Sea, we approach the northern coast of South America and head for tropical Guiana, containing the only European possessions on the continent. The vast steaming jungle stretching inland for miles is intersected by innumerable streams and drenched by huge waterfalls. In the dense undergrowth trees struggle for life, their limbs covered with orchids and festooned with vines. The jungle is alive with the chatter of monkeys, the cries of brilliant birds. Great anacondas lie motionless for hours, awaiting their prey. Deadly bushmasters dart among the roots. Father inland, in a region that even today no man has explored, the inaccessible mountains lift their heads. Our steamer passes the light ship marking the bar ten miles out of Georgetown, capital of British Guiana. Only at high tide can the harbor be entered. As the sun sets, we drop anchor. Son, here we are. We wanted to see the tropics. Yes, Ed, but the only thing I know about Guiana is that they have a postage stamp worth $50,000. They don't have that anymore. I think the King of England has the only one in the world. No use for me to try and find one, then, I suppose. Gee, look at those houses. They're all built on stills. Yeah, to keep out the dampness. Well, we can't see the botanical gardens from here. Come on, let's go ashore. You got your camera? I certainly have. If they really do raise those water lilies with leaves four feet across, I'm not going to run the risk of having people at home say I made it up. Come on, Dad. The efforts of Europeans have pushed the jungle back from the sea in some places along the Guiana coast. Georgetown's wide clean streets and gay gardens might almost be those of a European city, except for the ever-present jungle that presses down toward the coast like some crouching animal waiting its moment to spring. Columbus sided Guiana, and America's Vespucious sailed along its coast. But it was almost 100 years later that the first daring explorers ventured to land. It is the year 1595. Under a commission from Queen Elizabeth, Sir Walter Raleigh sails down the Guiana coast seeking the legendary golden city of El Dorado. He anchors near the mouth of the Orinoco River and embarks with his party in small boats. For 15 days, they row upstream through the human jungle, not daring to land. In relays, they relieve each other at the oars. Then, one night... Captain Raleigh's a village to starboard. I see it. I'm excited as running. Shall we risk a landing? I've heard that poison arrows cause horrible death. Hard to stop at men. And remember, there is to be no looting. Up on the beach, men! Come beyond the seas. Are very welcome. He speaks English. Peace to this village. And to you and your men. Peace. My men are weary and hungry. Can you sell us food? Your men are welcome to eat and drink with my people. I will pay for whatever food my men eat. At ease, men. How does it happen you speak our tongue? I learned it from a man who lived in this village for many moons. Who was he? Where is he now? He called himself John. He is dead. Who do you suppose you could have been, Raleigh? Probably a trader lost in the jungle. Must have been. Can you tell us how far we are from Guyana? This land is a part of Guyana. Is there much gold to be found here? The city of Eldorado is built of gold. And the bed of Lake Manoa is golden sand. Can you show us the way? I cannot go with you, but there is something I may do. Will you hear it now or wait until you have eaten? No, no. Tell us now. The mountain men steal our women. If you help us fight them, you shall have the gold and the grey metal and the brilliant pebbles from the mountain of crystal. Gold, silver, diamonds. How many men would be needed? Ten times as many as these would be too few. What should you do, Walter? Do. There is only one thing to do. Go back to England and tell the story to the Queen. Spit out a great fleet of ships and return here. We will defeat Guyana's warriors and win the golden city for Elizabeth and England. But Raleigh returns to a war torn England. Elizabeth dies. James sends Raleigh to the tower. 13 years pass before he can be freed to stake his whole future on a successful expedition to Guyana. Ten ships manned by the scum of English ports. Criminals cut throats good for nothings. Sail from Plymouth. Six months later, five of them anchor off the Guyana coast. One, Raleigh's own ship, the Destiny. Raleigh is ill with fever. Now look outside the Spanish ships, sir. Let it pass, un molested, Gilbert. But it may be filled with Spanish treasures of water. I will tell you why I have refused to attack the Spanish ships. We have already sighted. His Majesty ordered that if I violate the peace with Spain I will be turned over to King Philip himself and hanged in a public square in Madrid. Is that enough for you, Gilbert? There's a boat setting up from shore, Father. Shall I allow the men to come aboard? How many men? Two, an Osmond and a passenger. Let them come aboard. It may be a messenger from Topiawari. Impossible. How could he know when we'd arrive? I let the landing party, Gilbert. She did the votes, our provisions and be ready to go ashore when I give the word. Aye aye, sir. You're too eager to go ashore, Walter. Must I sit here idle while you and young Walter lead the men through the jungle? What else is there to do? Then they mutiny if we delay it. My father's waiting for you down there. Father, this man has won Martinez. Spaniard? I have been awaiting your coming, Sir Walter. How did you know of it? A word has come from Spain. What? Are Spanish soldiers here? They were here, Senor, but they have gone. For a petty offence I was abandoned in the jungle among the wild animals and serpents. If I had not made friends among the savages, I would have died. I have come to help you, Senor. To help us? Yes, Senor. The village chief, Topiawari, is dead. But he sent me to lead you through the mountains to El Dorado, the city of gold. For I am one who has seen it. You've seen it? Tell us. I was taken there by a native who, blindfolded me for many days before we arrived. The emperor, who is brother to the Inca chief, possesses more gold than his brother ever knew. A man may walk for two days together without coming to the boundaries of the city in which everything is overlaid with gold. You will permit me to guide your men to El Dorado, Senor? Yes. Yes. The party must start at once. Father, you're not fit to travel. Yes, I know. I know. You and Kimus will lead the men. I... I must wait here until you return. Oh, yes, Father. To the Boltzmann. We're off for El Dorado. How much farther to the village, Kimus? Not much farther now. But I don't like the sounds we've heard from shore. The jungle growth could screen an army, and we'd be none the whiter. You're right, Kimus. I'm farther involved then. Return the fire. No, no. Let no man tear the fire. It will cost your father's life if we fire on them and there's penyards. Pull harder, Min! We must breach the village. Harder, Min! How far to the village? Just around this pin. Harder, Min! Here we are! On the beach, Min! Come on, Min! Come on, Min! Come on, Min! Come on, Min! Come on, Min! Don't dissent us now! Peter! John! Alfred! Come on, the rest of you! Let them go! Oh! Water, my boy! You've been hit! Go on. Go on. Lead me. You did our best, Raleigh. They cut us to pieces. And carried him into the jungle. And buried him there. So here you all are now. The captains of my ships. Well, this is a council of war. What is proposed? Captain Hayward and I are leaving your feet, Sir Water. We're going to clear our hand at Buckaneering. No. You mustn't do that. We must go back into the jungle. We must have the gold at any cost. I leave to myself. The provision's almost gone. We're all half-starved. I'm sailing back to England at the turn of the tide today. Today? Without even a handful of gold? No, without a spoonful. My men are at the point of mutiny. The Spanish trade of fleet will be passing this way soon. And I mean to Raleigh and get my share. And I? Go then. All of you go. I want none of your company. I'll sail the destiny back to England alone. And so the fabulous golden city of Guyana went undiscovered. And in the vast jungles, the fuma and the jaguar killed, and the chattering monkeys swung from the trees, unmolested by white-faced strangers. But the rich land had won the attention of traders, and stories of its wonders had spread over Europe. In 1664, Lord Willoughby, an English planter, sits on the veranda of his house near the humid Guyana coast. His overseer stands before him. Sit down, Hinden. It's a bit too hot to stand on ceremony. Thank you, my lord. It's partly the heat I've come to see you about. I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about that, Hinden. Oh, quite so. I only meant you're loosed too many labourers under count of it. I know. But let's leave that for the moment. What about the sugar cane? It's doing very well, my lord. I made a small planting of a new strain I had from a Dutchman who called here last summer. And I think it's the best of the lot. Indeed? Yes, my lord. If we could find labourers, I'm sure you'd be well-repaid for cutting back a bit more of the jungle, you know, and planting it at the cane. Oh, come, Hinden. If it weren't constant chopping and hacking, or the jungle would overrun the cane fields. Ah, but we have bad labour, sir. But we haven't. That's the point. Perhaps your partner could send out more men from England, sir. Well, perhaps. It's astonishing. The natives can't be got to work the cane. Oh, it's no use thinking about the Indians, my lord. The moment you take your eyes off them, they sneak her away and they'll never turn up again. I can't see the advantage of importing shipload after shipload of Englishmen. I'll have them die of the heat in a few months. I agree, my lord. But I thought I should call your attention to the profits that might be made if some scheme could be devised to furnish labour. I appreciate your suggestion, Hinden. Lord knows you've done wonders with this wild land. Why doesn't the heat affect you? You dash about in it like a native, perhaps because I have southern blood. My great-grandmother was stolen from her father in Constantinople by a scotch sailor. Ah, I see. I'd like just to hide in account of our progress and see if he can find us at least one more shipload of men. Yes, sir. Is that all? That's all, Hinden. Now, wait a moment. What is it, Fernando? Master, a ship has anchored in the bay. A ship? An English ship? I've got no master. Well, has it a flag like the one that flies over this house? No, oh, no, master. It is not. Two colours, yellow and red? No, master. Not Spanish, then. It is three colours, and the captain ordered me to come to you at once and say... There is no, my lord. We are party of our men. And a flag of truth. Why, Joe, they must be Dutch. Shall I share the girls to them? No, no, we're not equipped for fighting. Oh! You are Lord Willoughby? Yes. I am Captain Peter van Gilder, the Netherlands merchant ship sealer. Oh, yes. Come up on the round, captain. Oh, thank you. Fernando, bring us a jug of the Spice Pineapple Wine. Yes, master. This is my overseer, John Hinden. Oh, it is pleasure to meet you, sir. Thank you, sir. No, if you gentlemen will excuse me. Certainly. Come down, please, captain. Yeah. I'm glad you did not order your servants to shoot me because our country is at war. I am satisfied to be well out of it. If you'd like to send your men back to the ship, I'll have a servant to row you out when you're ready. Oh, you're very kind, Lord Willoughby. Uh, Pwenker, take the men back to the boat. Yeah, yeah, my dear. Forward! Ah, here's the wine. Put it out, Fernando. Your very good health, sir. Ah, thank you, my lord. Ah! Lord Willoughby, may I ask if you own this land? I own it with the Honorable Laurence Hyde, son of the Earl of Clarendon. Oh, I've not realized your connections with the King were so close. I assure you, whatever you say to me will be held in the strictest confidence. Thank you. I came to see whether you'd be interested in laborers to work in your keen fields. You mean you know where they can be held? Yes, I do, my lord. Africa. Blacks? Yes, the African bush is teeming with men. Ships can be sent to bring them here several hundred at a time. As slaves? Exactly. So all their labor will cost you will be what food they eat, and that they can be taught to raise. I believe you've hit upon the very thing. Of course, it would not be profitable for me to import only a few hundred for this district alone. But down the coast a few miles is a Dutch settlement and still farther down a French one. And I would pay you a certain price per head. Are these men delivered here? Just so. Are the Dutch and French also raising sugarcane in large quantities? Dutch are doing well. The French, as usual, have made little progress, but there will be a good market for blacks even there. I see. Then I may assume you will agree to give me an order for what men you will need? Indeed you may. How long will it take you to deliver them here? Eh, with favorable winds, perhaps three months. I'll make my plans accordingly. I think you will agree with me too that our dealings need not be reported to our governments during the form. I'm sure you're right. I'm not afraid to consult my partner because I know he'll trust my judgment. Good, good. Fernando, pour us some more wine. Captain, let us drink to the success of our new venture. Yeah. Back and forth across the Atlantic plied the ships of Captain Van Gilder. The Guiana slave trade drew to enormous proportions. Thousands of Africans were poured into Guiana's fruitful acres. One morning in 1667, Captain Van Gilder lands as usual at Willoughby's Plantation. Walks up the path toward the house. Good morning, Captain Van Gilder. Oh, good morning, Hinton. Oh, what has happened? The work seems to be in a standstill this morning. Yes, it is, sir. Your men come in this way, sir. Oh. I saw two ships a short distance offshore about a cent said yesterday. Not knowing what ships they might be, I sailed past and anchored in a cove to the west. Understand, but they say to you, sir. There are no waiting for you to arrive before they begin the ceremony. Who? Why, what? Well, that's General van Rijn of the Dutch Army. I had to have used the cove. And the Englishman, William, sir, is Sir Robert Stanep. But why are all the plantation workers gathered around them? Well, you'll see in a moment, sir. They've seen you. They'll begin the ceremony now. Ceremony? Where's Lord Willoughby? Well, he's gone back to England, sir. The government took his land from him. I don't know the way. And in the war settlement, it's no being traded to Holland for a great act of land in North America. In a war settlement? Then the war is over. Aye, sir. That's what the ceremony is for. No other British flag. Voice the flag of Holland. Good morning. Good morning, General van Rijn. May I present Captain van Gilder, Sir Robert Stanep. Good morning. Were you entire for our ceremony? Yes, but if it hadn't been forhanded here, I might have been hidden in a mongrel's farm thinking it was a battle. I didn't know the war was over. Shall we send for drinks to celebrate the signing of the peace treaty? By all means. Mr. Stanep, what territory in North America was it we gave you for this part of Guyana? It was called New Devon Neverland. Oh, I knew it well. Did the treaty also include the city of New Amsterdam? Indeed it did. But of course the names have been changed. What did they call now? The city of New Amsterdam has been re-christianed in New York. In honor of the king's son, the Duke of York. I think old Dutchman will be very content with the exchange. Don't you, van Gilder? Quite content, General. I'm sure. Everyone in Holland was glad to be rid of your New York. It will never amount to anything in comparison with this rich country. No, you're right. Back and forth through the years, the lands of British and Dutch Guyana passed in trade and in the settlement of a dozen wars. But meanwhile, on the northeastern tip of the country, the French had established a settlement for royalists exiled during the revolution. In 1852, Devil's Island, just off the coast, became a penal colony for incorrigible French prisoners. Month after month, the prison ships landed their miserable cargos. Disease, unbelievable degradation, man-killing labor took their toll of wretched lives. Death, the only way of escape, was welcomed by these hopeless outcasts. Forty years passed, during which the island's very name became synonymous throughout the world with humanity at its lowest end. 1894, the prison ship has landed one more load of desperate men. One by one, they are brought before the commandant. Captain, this is the call of Toulouse for the crime of murder. Put him in number four. Yes, Captain. Thanks, prisoner. Your name? Dr. Dreyfus. Oh, yes. Here are the commitment papers. Captain of artillery sentence for treason. Of which I am innocent, Monsieur. You were tried, were you not? Yes, but the evidence, those letters were forged, Ray. That's very easy to say. But it is true. I tell you, I had nothing to do with those letters. They're not concerned with anything that preceded your sentence. Justice has undoubtedly been done to you. What mockery! I tell you, I am innocent. Why should I sell the figures of crimes to German agents? Put this one in number three. And if you have it in your mind to make trouble among the others, because you pretend you've been unjustly sentenced, I'll soon show you that. See that he passes by the punishment cells. I have no idea of making trouble, Monsieur. Get out! What's the matter with you, my fine captain of artillery? Nothing. He thinks he's too good for us. Oh, no, of course I don't. I'm the same as all of you. Why do you never speak? Every night when we're brought here, you sit alone and say nothing. I cannot help it. I must constantly go over the scenes of my trial and wonder what I might have done to prove myself innocent. We all say that when we first come to Devil's Island. But now I wish I'd killed and robbed ten men instead of five. I might have had a taste of life before I came to this hell. Island! Island! If you have been condemned unjustly, you should be willing to join us in our plan to escape. Escape? Silence. Would you betray us to the God? There's no hope for us here. I must go on and on working on the roads and the sugar cane until we die. And in this place, that'll be soon. But I must not attempt to escape. My wife and my brother are working in France for me. They have interested Emile Zola and other writers on my behalf. Soon the government will be made to see I am innocent. Sure, this heat or some foul disease or the flocking will kill you long before anything will be done to save you, even if you are innocent. You would be wise to join us. You will only die in the jungle. How can you think you will escape? I thought I heard you talking of escape. Why, you are mistaken. I heard you. Encouraging these other men to plan and escape through the jungle. Stand up. Come with me. We have a good medicine for the flocking sickness. 20 laces. Years pass. Four years of horror and agony, during which the wife and brother of Alfred Raphous work unceasingly to free him. All France is aroused. The people riot in the streets. Government officials lose their offices. At last, in September 1899, the most famous prisoner ever held by Devil's Island embarks once more for France to be retried. The Dreyfus case has made the name of French Guiana known throughout the world. Pardoned, restored to his rank in the army, Alfred Dreyfus never saw the island again. Today, Guiana remains one of the last unexplored regions in the world. Its untapped wealth and gold in rare and valuable woods, medicinal plants, precious stones, every year draws adventurers to challenge death for possession of its secrets. And still, no one but the savage jungle men know whether the golden city of El Dorado really exists, or is only another legend of the vanished past. Once more, our steamer awaits us in Georgetown Harbor. As we pass through the city, the markets are bright with exotic flowers on every hue. Fragrant with the scent of great mounds of oranges and pineapples offered to sail by shy, black-eyed descendants of the people who watched Sir Walter Raleigh's strange ships drop anchor to change the history of their race. We're homeward down once more from another journey to Ports of Call. We invite you to join us again next weekend this time as we journey to another of the world's fascinating Ports of Call.