Amazons III — Raiza Ruiz: Buried While Still Alive

The first of September, 1981, began inauspiciously enough for Rómulo Ordoñez, who piloted the Cessna YV-244-C. The last passengers he would ever carry were Colombian Judge, José Manuel Herrera, Venezuelan police officer, Salvador Mirabal, and Raiza Ruiz M.D. The policeman was carrying a slaughtered deer as a favor to friends in San Carlos who would pick it up there. The flight originated in Puerto Ayacucho and landed in Atabajo from whence it had flown to Maroa in the Amazonas Territory of Venezuela (now Amazonas State). It then headed to San Carlos on the Río Negro. The plans were to drop off the judge and the policeman in San Carlos and pick up a few of Raiza’s colleagues and then fly back to Puerto Ayacucho, the Territory’s capital. To understand the flight plan’s trajectory, refer to the map below.

No one imagined the Cessna would not arrive in either San Carlos or Puerto Ayacucho.

The Amazonas Territory was, and still is, one of the most unexplored regions of the world. To illustrate, imagine lodging somewhere in San Carlos from which you plan to explore the Baré and Yanomani regions. You’d begin by canoeing east on the Casiquiare and then, with an expert guide, you’d need to find the Río Parsimani from which you’d motor, paddle, hike carrying your canoe, wade in knee deep, waist deep, and chin deep waters and swamps to the Caño Emoni. A caño is a river or stream that can be many or few feet deep and wide and flows into the deep jungles sometimes through boundless swamps, with ever changing depths and currents. Some explorers find them a bit creepy. At any rate, if you get that far, you’d be doing better than many experienced explorers. 

You might then decide to turn back as the Yanomami are not always friendly.

On that September 1st, the pilot, Ordoñez, had dropped off passengers in Atabajo and had picked up the policeman, Mirabal, and the Judge, Herrera. He then flew further south to Maroa where he picked up the medical doctor, Ruiz. They were now headed to the last stop, San Carlos, from whence they would fly directly back to Puerto Ayacucho. 

Rains were now heavy as the plane took off from the Maroa airport.

About halfway to San Carlos, the plane, flying in heavy fog, hit a mountain with a high, thick canopy of trees. The trees, having “absorbed” the impact of the crash, also immediately “entered” the plane transforming the passengers’ environment from fog to green foliage which now scratched and blinded them. When they saw fire breaking out, they arose as one from their stupor, abandoned the craft, three of them jumping out the left side onto branches, trunks, and bush and catching twigs and trunks as they fell, and landed on the jungle floor. The policeman crawled out the right side, through the window he had broken in order to exit.

Within 30 minutes after takeoff three rescue planes took off from Maroa to seek the stricken craft. Another pilot who had been in communication with Ordoñez had suddenly lost contact with him and had raised the alarm. The search craft, assuming the mishap had occurred shortly after take off, focused their search area on the jungles surrounding Maroa, not knowing that Ordoñez was about halfway to San Carlos when he crashed.

The Cessna had lost its tail and almost immediately had caught fire; nevertheless, for a few minutes, it hung suspended above the canopy, mostly between two gigantic trees. The policeman had apparently not been badly injured by the impact. The pilot had broken his collarbone and three ribs. The Judge had a broken leg. Dr. Ruiz had bad scratches on her hands  and legs, but all three were able to exit the plane, now enveloped in flames, on the left side.

As they fell and descended, the plane also fell, exploded, and caught the policeman on the right, covering his body in flames. He walked, robot-like, calling for help, before finally falling. Even so, he managed to smile to Dr. Ruiz and say, “Doctor, my lights are going out.” He died in terrible agony about an hour later. The survivors crossed his arms and prayed.

The others had also been burned, though not as badly and after about 3 hours, their thirst took over and they made the fateful decision of leaving the accident site in search for water. They did manage to find a small pond, but they lost their way and never returned to the plane. 

At this point, I must note that other testimony and records say that Dr. Ruiz did not want to stay next to what would certainly become a rapidly putrefying corpse. This became a point of harsh criticism against her, despite her own ordeal.

Since one of the passengers was Colombian, and since the accident could have taken place in either jurisdiction, both countries, Colombia and Venezuela, initiated joint rescue efforts. After three days’ search they saw the remains of the craft. They initiated the journey via Caño Iguarapo for two hours followed by 6 hours on foot, arriving at the site late that afternoon.

The dreadful weather prevented the immediate evacuation of the remains of Mirabal, the dead policeman, whom they found with his arms crossed, although badly decomposed and exhibiting the gross results of scavenger jungle  animals. The rescue team then deposited into a single bag what they had assumed were the now unrecognizable remains of the others. One of the members reported on human tracks heading out of the accident site but he was ignored because everyone knew that no one could possibly have survived this disaster and, besides, the remains were there for all to see, even though they could not be identified, other than the policeman’s. As to the crossed arms of his body, not much thought was given to that, even though, logically, someone must have done the crossing. Maybe he did so himself just before dying. They thought.

They camped there for the night and evacuated the next day having concluded their mission as accomplished. The remains were delivered to doctors in San Carlos. There were no forensic personnel there; they naturally assumed that the charred deer remains were what was left of the pilot, Ordoñez, the judge, Herrera, and the doctor, Ruiz. These were sent in three different coffins to their respective origins and were buried.

However, the three survivors had been wandering in the vast jungles, disoriented, with multiple fractures and burns about their bodies. It was a terrifying place. Dense foliage and vegetation that, they knew, would severely hamper any efforts to find them. But they were determined to find help in or through those intimidating lands. They came to a small stream and decided to follow it, thinking it would take them to the Río Negro, thinking they were near San Carlos. They were not. 

After a long journey on foot, Judge Herrera, who could no longer walk on his broken leg and who was severely exhausted, sat down on a trunk. His burns, wounds, and traumas had become too heavy a burden for him. He decided to stay there, next to the stream and begged the others to stay with him there, to accompany him.

The pilot and the doctor felt they had to keep going. They promised Herrera that they’d return with help and went on, hopeful of returning for him soon. This did not happen. The judge was never seen alive again.

That night, Ordoñez and Ruiz essayed to cross a swamp to then find to their horror that it seemed to never end as the waters had risen to terrifying levels because of the rains. Exhausted, they each embraced a trunk and held on through the night, hoping to somehow rest a bit. They could not rest, but held on, each to his or her trunk, till daylight. Sharp leaves, underwater sliced their legs, further aggravating their injuries and further providing cracks and slits for worms to feast.

Hungry, ceaselessly attacked by insects, legs horribly cut by leaves that were sharp as blades, even underwater, Ordoñez and Ruiz went on, Ordoñez coughing badly and in one fall breaking his ankle. Both stumbled and fell often, which was especially a danger for the pilot, Ordoñez, with broken ribs. Ruiz was “covered” with worms seeking to burrow into her open wounds and cuts and scratches. She cleaned her cuts every time they stopped for water, not knowing that in her situation the best thing to have done was to cover her open wounds with mud instead of water.

They came to what appeared to once have been a large clearing of sorts. Later, it was learned that that area had been a rubber harvesting sector over 60 years earlier, now abandoned and nightmarishly ghostlike. While they looked around, they heard the sounds of an airplane! They ran in opposite directions thinking that would give them more of an opportunity to be seen from above. They yelled and jumped. 

But to no avail.

Ruiz then realized she could no longer hear Ordoñez. She made her way, stumbling, to where she had heard him yelling. 

He was dead. It may be that in the excited jumping and waving and yelling, the broken ribs had punctured his lungs. Or it may be he had finally succumbed.

Ruiz was now alone. She thought she was losing her mind. Her body was bloated, her skin covered by worms which ran up and down her. It was as if death stalked her and its agents had begun their work before her passing. She also noticed that she was losing her eyesight.

Nights in the jungle are never-ending and terrifying, especially when one is alone and lost.

On the seventh day, she fell and knew she would not get up again. 

Here, the accounts diverge greatly. Some say she was rescued by Baré Indians, whose children were playing nearby and saw her, thinking her to be dead. Other accounts say a local fisherman and his young son had decided to go near the crash site to scavenge for metal to use in their fishing enterprise. Her own accounts vary in this.

Regardless, she was indeed found alive. Barely. Covered with worms.

They ignored her delirious demands to be left alone, and gave her spoonfuls of water with cinnamon, little by little, until about half a glass was consumed. They made a makeshift cot and carried her to a nearby stream and from thence to Río Negro where she was eventually taken to San Carlos and tended by medical personnel who cut and peeled the little clothing she still wore and gave her antibiotics and anis to apply to the horribly infected skin. When they first saw her legs they initially thought they would have to amputate. But Ruiz had demanded that she be treated first and then any decision could be made. The demand was met and she kept both her legs.

Months later, she learned that the plane she and Ordoñez had heard that day was carrying her remains to Caracas where she was buried a day later.

It took over 15 years for the paperwork to be fixed and the courts officially corrected her status from dead to alive. 

And the doctor who had declared the charred deer bones to have been Dr. Ruiz’s remains was named as minister of health by President Chavez and a “revolutionary” hospital bears his name.

The Cessna’s flight plan was to take it from San Fernando de Atabajo, south to Maroa. Then further south to San Carlos from which it would fly back north to Puerto Ayacucho. 
The capital city of Puerto Ayacucho in the municipality of Atures in Amazonas State. Atures is known as “practically the only area with population” in the entire state.
A White-Throated Tucan, Amazonas, Venezuela
Air Taxi similar to the one taken by Dr. Ruiz that fateful day.
Dr. Ruiz a few days after rescue (top) and before the accident (bottom)
These are leaves we have on our property in Puerto Rico. They are as sharp as razor blades. I do not have a description of the leaves that cut Dr. Raiza in the Amazonas Territory in Venezuela, but her descriptions of the pain and the cuts are most believable based on my encounters with sharp leaves in a friendlier ambiance.

To give an idea of the difficulties in finding a lost craft in the State of Amazonas, the following photographs were taken during the search of a lost plane in 2007. In this case, the crash site was never located and all are presumed dead.

Dangerous storms arose directly in the path of the flight.
Indigenous tribes were called upon to help. They know the areas, but even they do not know “everything” in the jungles, although they did help greatly.
One of the search teams
Search helicopter and a search member.
Area where last “seen” on radar.
Easy to lose oneself in the Amazonian jungles of Venezuela and elsewhere.

Amazons I

One of the least accessible, not to mention explored, areas of the world is the Territorio Amazonas in Venezuela. The Amazon River flows through part of the territory through the Rio Negro (see here and here for posts on Humboldt’s adventures on or near the Río Negro).

The length of the Río Grande (Great River, now known as the Amazon River) was first sailed, most improbably, by Captain Francisco de Orellana. 

Orellana was a friend (some say a cousin) of Francisco Pizarro and helped the latter in the conquest of Peru in 1535.  For his services, Pizarro named Orellana governor of Guayaquil in what is today Ecuador. Concurrently, Pizarro named Gonzalo Pizarro, his half-brother, to lead an expedition into the South American interior to find the “Land of Cinnamon” and he also appointed Orellana as his second in command. The expedition met in Quito and Gonzalo Pizarro sent Orellana back to Guayaquil to recruit troops and also commission horses for the mission. Pizarro felt he could not wait for Orellana’s return and proceeded to leave Quito in February, 1541. 

Orellana arrived in Quito with the men and horses and, finding Pizarro gone, immediately commenced the pursuit of the main expeditionary force, making contact in March. By that time, over 3,000 Indians and over 100 Spanish had died or deserted, “melting away into the jungle.”

They did reach an area of Cinnamon trees and built a small settlement there, named Canelos (“Cinnamon”), a parish still in existence today. By then, they had been set upon by head hunters, disease, and hunger which had taken a dreadful toll. Not far from the settlement they came upon a huge serpentine yellow-waterred river called the Napo. Where did this river lead to? These men immediately began to build a brigantine on its banks and Pizarro ordered Orellana to sail downriver to find food and return once he’d found such.

However, once the craft went out it was drafted by the strong current at 4 to 5 knots. Orellana left Pizarro and his ragged, half starved men on the banks of the Napo. The craft came to the mouth of the river onto the vast Amazon. Efforts to return to Pizarro came to naught and he and the men with him sailed down the entire length of the monstrous Amazon River. 

Accompanying Orellana on this momentous odyssey was the missionary friar, Gaspar de Carvajal, who eventually published his Relación del nuevo descubrimiento del famoso río Grande que descubrió por muy gran ventura el capitán Francisco de Orellana (“Account of the recent discovery of the famous Grand river which was discovered by great good fortune by Captain Francisco de Orellana”). 

For centuries his work was considered too fantastic to be taken seriously for he talked about large settlements and towns along the river’s banks as well as paths and roads and other constructions. He also talked about Amazons. However, his Relación has been taken more seriously in recent years, including by the great 19th century English botanist explorer, Richard Spruce.

But for our purpose today, let us see what Carvajal had to say about the encounter at the mouth of the Trompetas River in the eastern Amazon River, where, after sailing down, down, down, and coming to the Trompetas, they had to battle with the fiercest of Indians they had come against to that moment:

“I want it to be known what the reason was why these Indians defended themselves in this manner, It must be explained that they are the subjects of and tributaries to the Amazons; and when our coming was known to them, they went to them to ask help, and there came as many as ten or twelve of them, for we ourselves saw these women captains who were there fighting in front of all the Indians as women captains, and these fought so courageously that the Indian men did not dare to turn their backs and anyone who did turn his back they killed with clubs right there before us…. These women are very white and tall and have hair very long and braided and wound about the head…they are very robust and go naked save that their privy parts are covered; with their bows and arrows in their hands doing as much fighting as ten Indian men….”

Carvajal wrote that after few days after the fight with the Amazons he “came to a pleasant country where there were Evergreen-oaks and Cork Trees.” That would be near today’s Santarem, about 500 miles from the mouth of the Amazon River. A bishop in the Antilles, upon hearing this tale, asked, “Did these Amazons cut off their right breasts so as to use the bow more easily?” This was believed by some Greeks who fought female warriors repeatedly, according to Greek histories and legends. Orellana did not know such stories. He and Carvajal merely reported what they had seen and experienced. 

Upon his return to Spain, the king’s court disbelieved him, even though other Spanish expeditionaries had heard persistent reports about Amazons, though never had seen them. Spruce writes:

“The voyagers heard rumors of the Amazons’ existence long before reaching them. An Indian chief on the Napo called the Amazons Coniapuyara, the masterful women, the old Indian went into some detail about them, but Orellana lacked a good understanding of the language and let the matter go by until their brigantine reached the río Trombetas, about 600 miles from the mouth of the river…. There they were attacked by Indians led by women. The Amazons were tall, fair, robust, naked except for skins about their loins. The bow and arrow in their hands they wielded with deadly accuracy.”

Orellana and Carvajal reported what they saw. It was not that Orellana mistook long-haired Indian men for women: he had lived two years among the Indians of the Upper Amazon — Jivaros, Zaparos, Huambizas — where all the males wore their hair waist-long and were attired in knee-length skirts. 

Most interestingly, the 50 men who followed Orellana on that extraordinary voyage appeared at court in the presence of the king (Carlos V). Although all of them were not favorably disposed to Orellana, they nevertheless affirmed that they were indeed attacked by Indians led by Amazons. 

As Spruce put it: “It is incredible that fifty persons, and among them a religious priest, should agree in guaranteeing the truth of a lie, especially when nothing was to be gained by it.”

He also saw that all the famous authorities on the Americas — including Humboldt — agreed that the Amazons tradition had been based on fact. Most of the missionaries of the 18th century testified to the same tradition. It was not uncommon for Indians, in confession, to admit having visited periodically the “women living alone.” And, with respect to Orellana’s expedition having fought the Amazons, no Indian tribe doubted it.

Where did these light-skinned women warriors come from? Some researchers posit that after the Trojan Wars they scattered across the globe, with some coming to the shores of South America. Others believe they came during the time of the Phoenecians (1200 BC) who were known to sail the world. We really do not know. 

What happened to them?

An old Indian with whom Spruce spoke told him that his forefathers said that after the Spaniards and Portuguese began to settle in larger numbers, the Amazons retired from their villages near the Trombetas and migrated to somewhere on the Río Negro. He also told Spruce that many an Indian, long from home, confessed the he had spent several months among the warrior women. The Amazons would meet the invited Indian at a place agreed upon, then dismiss him with presents of gold and green stones. He carried back the male children who had reached the age of three.

Green stones? These were known for a long time as Amazon stones. The great 18th century French explorer, La Condamine, had found them worn by Indians in Santarem and these Indians affirmed they had received such from the Amazons. And Sir Walter Raleigh (1591-1618) spoke of Indians on the Orinoco having “chiefly a kinde of greene stones… commonly every king or Casique hath one….”

Possibly, the Amazons migrated to the portion of the Río Negro that flows through the Amazonas State in what is now Venezuela. It is fitting that it be so, as the Río Negro’s name was given by the same Francisco de Orellana who fought the Amazons on the “Grand River”.

The name originally given to the Grand River was Río Orellana. But that was changed to Río Amazonas based on his own comments describing it as “the river of the Amazons”. The great territory in Venezuela was also named accordingly: Territorio Amazonas, which became a state in the 90s.

Gonzalo Pizarro made it back to Quito two years later, very ill and with very few men who had survived with him. He went on to rule Peru after his brother’s death, but this had not been sanctioned by the king and he was defeated in battle, tried, found guilty of treason, and beheaded in Peru in 1548.

Gaspar de Carvajal returned to Peru in 1545, three years after his eventful partnership with Orellana. He lived a long, fruitful life, dying there in 1584.

Francisco Orellana’s astonishing expedition took place in 1542. He returned to the Amazon in 1545, but that journey was far more grim than the first and he died, according to his wife “of grief”; according to other sources, he drowned in the river he once had called “the river of the Amazons.”

Río Negro, Territorio Amazonas, Venezuela

Parque Nacional Serranía La Neblina (The Misty Range National Park). Mt. Phelps is the lower peak (9,800 ft) and is in the south of Amazonas State in Venezuela. Pico da Neblina is the higher peak (9,900 ft) is in the north of Amazonas State in Brazil.
Río Autana, an Orinoco River tributary, with Cerro Autana at right in the background. This is located close to the Colombian border in the western section of Amazonas State. Humboldt and Bonpland explored and selected many botanical specimens here.
Gonzalo Pizarro (1510-1548)
Francisco de Orellana (circa 1490 Spain — 1546 Amazon River).
Memorial to Richard Spruce (1817-1893) in Ecuador
Drawings by Richard Spruce

Bertholletia Excelsa

In Alexander von Humboldt’ Narratives, Volume V, one reads a brief mention of what the locals called the juvia tree. Humboldt and Bonpland (see here), having canoed the Casiquiare (see here), and camping in the southern regions of what is now Venezuela’s Amazonas territory, were excited to have seen this tree of which they had heard so much. They were not disappointed. 

The two explorers named the tree, Bertholletia Excelsa, “that majestic plant which furnishes the triangular nuts called in Europe the almonds of the Amazon.” And that is its name today. It is found in the Amazonian areas of Venezuela, Brazil, Bolivia, Colombia, even Perú, and is known by a multitude of names including Brazilian Nut Tree, Castaña del Brasil, Castaña del Maranon, and others. In Venezuela it is still known as the yubia tree, which is what Humboldt noted as juvia.

These majestic trees grow up to 50 meters (over 160 feet) and more, towering over the jungle canopy. Their coronas spread over 30 meters (close to 100 feet), and their trunks have been measured at 2 and even 3 meters (6 and 10 feet) across. Their fruit can weigh up to 4 or even 5 pounds each. These are not Planters Peanuts.

These trees are estimated to age up to a thousand years or more, each tree producing crops for centuries. Readers with an instinct or desire for exploration and adventure can raft down the Casiquiare and measure Humboldt’s tree today. It should still be there for you to enjoy. 

Bertholletia Excelsa
Brazilian Nut
NOT the Brazilian nut