Galápagos Islands: The Lowell Expedition Day 3

11) The Lowell Expedition: Day 3
Volcán Wolf, June 28, 1845

A) Day 3: The Ascent
The party breaks camp at dawn and begins the ascent up the broad slope of the mile-high volcano. Puddles of leftover rain, hidden crevasses, and jagged chunks of rock make the trek somewhat precarious. As the party winds their way up the mountain, the climate becomes more humid and new species of vegetation appear. If Castro has joined the party, he’ll occasionally point out a shortcut or more accessible pathway—but only to Lowell.

The slope becomes steeper as the caldera is neared, forcing the party to slow down and take more frequent rests. Sometime in the late afternoon, the expedition reaches the top of the rim. Beyond lies the caldera. The sight is breathtaking: a beautiful, oval-shaped crater some 3.7 miles wide and 4.3 miles long, the caldera slopes downwards another thousand feet to expose a floor of solidified black lava, still slick with unseasonal rain.

A Spot Hidden roll made by any expedition member notices a strange figure posted along the rim 80 yards south of their location. It almost looks like a scarecrow, or some kind of bizarre statue. If Castro is with the party, he regards it with fear and loathing—“¡La iglesia mala! Su santuario a Ariel…” (“The bad church! His altar to Ariel.”)

B) La Iglesia Mala
If investigated closely, the scarecrow is revealed as an amateur sculpture cobbled together from ship’s supplies, flotsam, and assorted natural materials. An upright wooden barrel forms its body, its base concealed by a massive tangle of dried kelp. The staves of the barrel are painted red and yellow in alternating sequence; the red staves are textured with chips of scoria, the yellow staves are crusted with seashells. Five segments of leather hose radiate from the waist of the barrel like the arms of an octopus, each terminating in some form of nightmare appendage—a cluster of crab claws, a rusty pair of shears, a bundle of machetes. These “tentacles” are supported by a series of stanchions improvised from Y-shaped sticks. A pair of “wings” stretch from the torso, triangles of sailcloth hammered to lengths of wood. Streaks of rust trail across the canvas from each nailhead like the tails of ruddy comets.

The “head” of the scarecrow is as nightmarish as the body. An upside-down umbrella has been nailed to the top of the barrel, its whalebone ribs stripped of cloth and splayed like the fingers of a skeletal hand. The tip of each baleen rib sports a glass marble, glued in place with a blob of congealed resin. One of these glass “eyes” has fallen from the whalebone, and is now stuck to a small cactus beneath the sculpture. The “palm” of the skeletal hand is covered with an up-turned starfish, its ambulacral grooves unnervingly reminiscent of the lipped scars along Castro’s forearms. The starfish is remarkably large, bleached by the relentless sun and prone to crumbling if disturbed.

The bizarre sculpture looms over a crude altar, little more than a sail-covered plank supported by twin columns of stacked rocks. The altar holds a silver crucifix, a set of rosary beads made from seashells, and a wooden chest covered by a tortoise shell. Inside this chest is a Bible and a pair of tallow candles.

Making Sense of the Altar
First things first—upon seeing the jury-rigged Elder Thing, Professor Lowell must make a 0/1 Sanity roll. There’s something incredibly disturbing about it—and yet, something familiar? And even…erotic? But the moment he’s about to understand, the feeling slips away. The crucifix is genuine silver; an Appraise roll places its value at $75. The Bible is a Latin Vulgate with accompanying German translation. Bound in pigskin over wood and sealed by copper clasps, the Bible was printed in Augsburg in 1720 by “Johann Strotters und Sohns.” A bookplate proudly announces its owner: “INGO QUIRING.”

C) The Grave
A few yards past the altar, a cairn of rocks supports a wooden cross. The cross is painted the same red as the barrel staves. An inscription is carved into the wood: “OLIVER BLACK, MAY ‘45.” The cross is decorated with seashells and feathers. If the grave is exhumed, it proves to be quite shallow, and contains the remains of a bearded man with long black hair. A ragged wound blossoms across his chest; a Medicine roll discovers a broken sternum, a deformed lead ball lodged between two vertebrae. If asked about the corpse, Castro mimes being shot, then jeers at the grave excitedly—“¡Mal hombre! Uno de sus discípulos.” (“Bad man! One of his disciples.”)

D) Into the Caldera
A pathway between the altar and grave winds down the slopes of the caldera. Whether the party follows this path or makes their own way, heading into the caldera marks a dramatic transition in mood and scenery. As soon as the rim eclipses the view behind them, the travelers are delivered to another world, an isolated valley floating a mile above sea level. Surrounded by a strange wilderness, every direction reveals a new wonder—the lake of hardened lava, cracked fissures venting fumaroles of smoke and vapor, cumulous clouds tumbling over the rim to dissipate in the valley. The edges of the caldera are thick with vegetation, and tortoises and pink iguanas cluster around sulfurous pools of water, renewed by the recent storm. A mile along the crater’s interior a cluster of palo santo trees still smolders, victims of yesterday’s lightning strikes.

If Castro remains with the party, he grows more excited as they approach the caldera floor, urgently moistening his exposed eyeballs and scanning the distant shadows. Soon a new word enters his babbleogue—“¡Calibános!” Any request for elaboration escalates his anxiety—“No, no, no—¡Los Calibános!” A Persuade roll manages to wrest an additional sentence—“Ellos tienen armas.” (“They have guns.”) The Keeper may allow a few Spot Hidden rolls, but there’s no sign of human occupation in the caldera. If anyone brings up Shakespeare, Castro shakes his head—“Me llamó Calibán. Padre Próspero.” (“He named me Caliban. Father Prospero.”) Castro refuses to explain his relationship with “Father Prospero,” but a Psychology roll likens his behavior to a spurned underling—not unlike his attitude towards Lowell.

E) Fruitless Search
Lowell may lead the party around the caldera, but his guiding vision has abandoned him—something just seems to be off. Castro confirms this sense of dislocation, his increasing frustration necessitating a period of self-trepanning. After a few hours of fruitless searching, Pynchon suggests they camp by a freshwater pool near a smoking fissure. If they can’t find the alleged cave entrance by noon tomorrow, they’ll return to Banks Cove.

F) Night 3
The third evening of the Lowell Expedition is marked by a sense of nervous exhaustion. The men are weary from the climb, frustrated by the fruitless search, and unnerved by the strange altar. (Not to mention the sight of Castro opening his skull.) There’s also the “psychic drain,” which seems to be affecting the first mate more severely than the others—Pynchon is more irritable than usual, and his eyes are troubled by haunted shadows. So far there’s been no sign of “Los Calibános,” but who built the statue? Who dug the grave? Where’s Padre Próspero? What happened to Salvator Tarnmoor? Where’s Lowell’s bloody cave? Not only that, the water from the caldera pools is “fresh” in name only, and contains a sulfurous taste not easily ignored. The only pleasant thing about the valley is the temperature of the pools, and more adventurous sailors may enjoy a relaxing geothermal bath. Clouds gather as night falls, concealing the heavens and compounding the men’s feeling of isolation. A ruddy glow stains the southwestern sky, a sign that Narborough shares their restlessness.

Setting Watch
Peering anxiously into the twilight, Mr. Pynchon ensures that each watch contains a trustworthy man “with eagle eyes and a steady hand on the trigger.” If this means Dixon, Quakaloo, and NPCs such as Virgil Caine or Pig Bodine are required to sit watch for longer than an hour, so be it. Pynchon is willing to hear advice from player characters, who may suggest additional security measures such as dousing the fire or establishing a sharpshooter at some distance from camp. Castro is to remain guarded at all times, even if that means chaining him to his beloved maestro.

White Leviathan, Chapter 4—Galápagos Islands
[Back to Encounter 10, Lowell Expedition Day 2 | White Leviathan TOC | Forward to Encounter 13, Attack of the Calibans]

Author: A. Buell Ruch
Last Modified: 21 October 2023
Email: quail (at) shipwrecklibrary (dot) com
White Leviathan PDF: [TBD]