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Alexandre Valembois
Journey to the Amerzone

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Alexandre Valembois
Born on 28/06/04 in Paris (France).
Doctor in zoology,
Degree in tropical biology.

Journey to the Amerzone (1932-1934)
Diverse notes and observations for explorers:

1) Preparations for the Journey.
2) Puebla.
3) The Amerzone River.
4) The Ovovorahs tribe.
5) The marshlands and volcanoes.

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The Amerzone goose
The Amerzone goose owes its name to the fact that its annual migration leads it to the delta of the Amerzone River where it settles down for the winter...
The simplest way to reach the shores of the Amerzone would be to follow the same route as these birds were it not for the constraints of refueling to be taken into account.

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19 October 1932
David and Antonis watch the geese fly off towards the Amerzone.

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22 October 1932, 7 h 53 min.
At last, we are off!
We follow a small flock of geese.
The hydra-float is performing beautifully.
I am very proud of my invention and eager to test its sundry capabilities.

+5degrees
Grapnel
Start
Klaxon "Thanks @Yujah"
Disk

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Shipwreck Island...
A large number of sperm whales have settled here...
I fear that we might have hit one of them on approaching the channel that leads to the atoll...

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This atoll bears its name well: it seems to be the meeting place of all those who pace and explore the planet...
Unfortunately, for many of them, this is where the adventure stops for lack of transport...
This is a necessary stop: we need petrol for the hydra-float!

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25 October
The sperm whale we hit has caused serious damage to our hydra-float.
I am afraid that, if providence does not come to our succor, our adventure will end right here, on this wretched island...

1st November
I've lost all hope of repairing the hydra-float.

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10 November
We are in very poor spirits...
We are indeed prisoners on this ill-fated atoll.
We spend our time listening to stories told by the travelers passing through.
Then, with a pang of anguish, we watch them set off again.

Mackowski
Alvarez

24 November
Praise be to God! A Peruvian whaler has agreed to take us to the Amerzone!!!

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25 December 1932
We set foot on the shores of the Amerzone...
As far as the eye can see, the delta of the Amerzone River.

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Puebla
The village is built on an old fort that was formerly used as a trading post by the conquistadors.
The only means of transport is an old railway line...

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This village is a flourishing marketplace for all the populations of the region.

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The Amerzone vulture
Puebla, December 1932

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Cafardus Horribilis (Criseau).
Very common throughout the village of Puebla...
The natives are very fond of it.
They say it has soothing virtues...

Vahori.
Malao.
Cato.
Coriocou.
Zablino.
Bola.
Zabono.
Zabonino.
Locoulo.
Kari.
Xelopoto.
Banani.

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Puebla,
1st January 1933
Last night, a man told me about some strange white birds...
He has agreed to guide me up the river.
He is of mixed blood and lives in the jungle, ten days from Puebla by canoe...
A shabby hut on the riverbank...
Farewell to Mackowski and Alvarez...

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Colibri bat
Alligator toucan
Luis Angel, my guide.

14 January 1933
The surroundings of my guide's humble dwelling place are, from a zoological viewpoint, very rich.

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Suckerer
On the banks of The Amerzone River,
12 January 1933

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Porcopotamus
The tricorn buffalo.
Skittish animal and apparently stupid...

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Rhinopotamus
This animal seems to be bound to the meanders of the Amerzone River.
The natives hunt it, as they do the Porcopotamus, with which it must not be confused.
The Amerzone River branches off into several small tributaries.
The current is very strong and only the solid experience of my guide enables us to progress without mishap.

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Pechosaur.
A strange fish-eating lizard. Its habits are truly remarkable...
It dons a long nasal appendix that ends in a kind of claw that it uses to fish after hooking an insect larva to it.

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17 February 1933
We set up camp in one of the many inlets that stretch along the river.

18 February 1933
My guide deserted me during the night.

19 February 1933
I have reached the falls of the Amerzone.

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22 February 1933
I glimpsed a native village in the distance.
I hesitate to establish contact with these Indians.
I think that it is their approaching presence that made my guide run away.

23 February 1933
A strong fever has been racking me since the middle of the night.
I am too weak to get up... My senses are progressively deteriorating...

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28 March 1933
The positive development of my illness now permits me to resume the course of this logbook.
The inhabitants of a strange village who are apparently devoted to a form of worship that still escapes me... have taken me in.
They are peaceful Indians who survive on hunting, gathering, and honey, which they consume in great quantities that they eat a lot.

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( No Text )

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15 April 1933
I must admit that I am quite proud to have brought these Indians a few rudiments of civilization.
I have made them understand that waterfalls can be a great source of energy and that the laws of mechanics and physics can tremendously improve their lives.
With their help, I have developed various pieces of machinery that will free them from their daily constraints.

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Indian village, the Ovovoraho tribe.
Mechanism with a counterweight to climb the falls.

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Mechanism to climb falls.
At the controls. at dawn.
Filling the boat with counterweight.
Hauling towards the marsh.

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Moving towards the marsh.

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June 1933.
This morning, I attended a strange ceremony that reassured me that the legendary white birds do exist.
The Egg, brought from the mountain by a young Indian boy and strangely manipulated by the village sorcerer, is gigantic and, to my knowledge, does not belong to any known animal species...
Egg of white bird
(Avis Alba).

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According to my Indian friends, it is the egg of a white bird.
It would appear that their priest practices a sort of therapy on the embryo to cure it from a severe physiological alteration caused by the noxious fumes emanating from the volcanoes to which these birds are bound...
Without this human intervention, these mythical birds would probably have ceased to exist a long time ago.

Poto-poto.
Manka.
Orcochi.
Zangala.
Zoula.
Matiti.
Cata.
Boulo.
Chico.

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Judging from the primitive paintings that I was able to see of the village, a young Ovovolaho Indian boy must go through a fearsome initial rite to enter adulthood. The teenage boy must set off alone towards the volcanoes in The Amerzone, seize the egg of a white bird, and then take it back to the village.
As soon as the priest has finished the sacred ceremony, the young man has to take the egg back to where he found it so that it may hatch under good conditions.

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2 June 1933
I took leave of my hosts at dawn.
Thanks to the mechanism that I had devised to climb the falls, I succeeded in taking my boat up the falls and then, with a complementary system, beat the torrential current in so doing, I reached the place where the river settles down and loses itself in the marshes.

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The marshlands are sacred to the Indians: it is the burial ground of their ancestors.
It is necessary to go through them to get to the volcanoes.
It is always a dangerous place and going through it is a terrible ordeal.
The web-footed giraffe is, and has always been domesticated by the Indians: the Indians mount them through the marshlands.
The ones that have remained in the wild are very timid.
The web-footed giraffe

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15 June 1933
Takeoff temple.
Degenerate White bird.
Unlike his noble cousins, the blackbird ventures rather far from the volcanoes.
Chain of volcanoes seen from the temple.

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18 June 1933
Here I am finally, after several months of adventure, at the end of my journey.
Until now, I have seen only those confounded little blackbirds.
I have been able to observe that they lay eggs that are similar in every respect to the one I saw in the Ovovolaho village.
These birds are very prolific: I have counted up to ten birds hatching from the same egg.
On the other hand, their existence is precarious: they fly badly and generally display a salient degeneration, which would seem to confirm the expertise of the Ovovolaho priests in embryonic surgery.

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I saw them this morning...
They were there, right before me...
They glided over the crater for a long while, and then imperceptibly around noon, with the heat of the day, they flew higher until they weren't but a speck in the sky.
Avis Alba