Up the Orinoco and down the Magdalena

by J. A. Zahm

As one approaches this metropolis of the Orinoco basin, the details of the city come gradually into view. Parallel with the river bank is the principal business street—La Calle del Coco—which is at the same time the most delightful promenade in the place. Here is the custom-house, the American and other consulates, and a number of large mercantile establishments, controlled chiefly by Germans, Americans and Corsicans.

From a broad waterway, from two to three miles in width, the river here contracts to a narrow channel which, at low water, is not more than a half mile in width. According to Codazzi,[14] the mean depth of the river at this point is sixty feet. Towards the end of the rainy season, however, the water rises from forty to fifty feet above low-water mark. Sometimes it rises considerably higher. In 1891 the flood was so high that the stores and dwellings of the part of the city fronting the river were inundated to a height of several feet. Then the inhabitants were obliged to have recourse to canoes in passing from house to house. Then, too, stray alligators were seen in the streets and it was possible to catch enough fish for a meal in the patio—court-yard—of one’s residence.

The original name of the city was Santo Tomé de la Nueva Guayana—the third place on the river to bear this name. The first, it will be remembered, was situated at the confluence of the Caroni and the Orinoco and was destroyed by the Dutch in 1579. The second, now known as Los Castillos—formerly Guayana la Vieja—was founded by Antonio de Berrio in 1591, and is famous in the history of this part of Venezuela for its vigorous resistance to Sir Walter Raleigh, whom Spanish writers designate as the “great pirate Gualtero Reali.” As the inhabitants found the first name of their city inconveniently long they called it Angostura—the Narrows—from the contraction of the river at this point. The name was so appropriate that it is a pity it could not have been retained. In 1819, however, Congress gave it the name of Ciudad Bolivar, in honor of Simon Bolivar, the Liberator of South America.

As our steamer neared the steep bank in front of the city our attention was arrested by a large, dark, granitic mass—La Piedra del Medio—looming up in the middle of the river. Like the celebrated Nileometer at Cairo, this rock, which may appropriately be called an Orinocometer, serves as a gauge of the annual rise of the flood. As we passed it, we could see distinctly the height to which the waters had risen the preceding year.

If ever the long-talked-of railroad from Caracas to Ciudad Bolivar shall be constructed, this rock, almost midway between the latter city and Soledad, a small town on the opposite side of the river, will serve as an invaluable pier for the bridge that is planned to span the Orinoco at this point. Until, however, the country shall have a more stable government than it has now, and until foreign capital shall have more confidence in the future of the republic than it has at present, it is quite safe to say that there will be neither bridge nor railroad, although both are very much needed to develop the vast resources of this section of Venezuela.

In its location and surroundings, Ciudad Bolivar possesses all the essential elements of a beautiful and prosperous metropolis. It controls the trade of the immense Orinoco basin, and the amount of business transacted here should, under favorable conditions, be many times what it is at present. But, at the time of our visit, everything was in a state of abandonment that was sad to behold. The streets, parks and public buildings, which could easily be made the most attractive features of the city, were in a neglected condition, and the number of vacant houses in certain sections, some crumbling into ruins, showed the inevitable effects of protracted misrule and periodic turmoil.

When I asked one of the prominent merchants of the city the reason for the deplorable state referred to, he replied:—”No hay dinero. Hay tantas revoluciones.” (“There is no money. There are so many revolutions.”) And when I sought a reason for the business lethargy everywhere manifested, a similar reply was forthcoming. “Somos pobres, estamos arruinados. Hay tantas guerras y el gobierno es malísimo.”—(“We are poor, ruined. There have been so many wars and the government is very bad.”) Merchants, tradesmen, day-laborers, professional men—all, except government employees, who were interested in retaining their positions as long as possible, had the same pitiful story to relate.

Oppressive taxes, exorbitant prices for many of the necessaries of life, intolerable monopolies, controlled by leading government officials or their favorites, had reduced the majority of the population to a condition bordering on despair. No encouragement was given to foreign capital for the exploitation and development of the immense natural resources of the country. On the contrary, foreigners were looked upon with suspicion, while Castro and his henchmen were openly antagonistic to them. Nor was it only in Ciudad Bolivar and in other parts of the Orinoco valley that this lamentable condition of things obtained. We found the same business depression, the same hopeless outlook in Caracas, Valencia, Puerto Cabello, and other commercial centres of the republic. Small wonder, then, was it that the discouraged, downtrodden people were longing and praying for a change in the administration.

The long desired change came at last, and in a way that no one could have foreseen. The dramatic downfall of Castro suddenly and unexpectedly opened the way to an amelioration of conditions that had become intolerable, while the accession of Gomez to power has inspired all patriotic and peace-loving Venezuelans with the hope that their long distracted country is about to enter upon a new era—an era of social progress and business prosperity—an era of amity with other nations accompanied by a spirit of comity which was so long conspicuous by its absence.

Notwithstanding the comparatively large number of vessels that come to this place, there is no wharf, and people here say that the great rise and fall of the river make it impossible to construct one. Fortunately, it is not a prime necessity, as the water, even in the dry season, is so deep that the largest vessels can approach so near the bank that both freight and passengers can be discharged by an ordinary gangplank.