No Salvation at Ile St. Joseph

Iles du Salut, French Guiana

As promised, we did manage to get our act together, launch the dink and head ashore today to the Salvation Islands. We ventured to Ile St. Joseph first. There's a small, modern floating dock for unloading passengers and tying up the dinghy, but other than a tiny, private hotel, the island offers no amenities other than a well-maintained walking path around the perimeter of the island.

isle du salvation chart

Walking and easing back into civilization were high on our list, so this was right up our alley. Once again, our Maps With Me iPad app came through with the island's walking trails delineated. How cool is that?

chemin de ronde sign

The French first sent colonists to the Guianas in the mid-17th century in hopes of establishing a stronghold in South America, land of the mythical, golden El Dorado. They used these islands as a staging point for new arrivals before moving them to the mainland. Lack of planning and supplies resulted in a huge death toll; most of the 13,000 colonists died of disease. That however, did not deter the French from sending convicts here. From 1852 to 1862, the French emptied their continental prisons and shipped 13,000 undesirables to the Guianas. Convict deportation to the Guianas continued through the mid-20th century. There was no salvation here for the early colonists, nor for the prisoners that followed.

ile st. joseph ruins

Ile St. Joseph was initially used for political prisoners … any adversary of Napoleon III was considered a criminal and deported. Prisoners were housed in small, isolated cells and were not allowed to communicate or smoke. Guards ensured this by constantly walking on the metal grids that formed the ceilings of each cell. The prisoners were required either to stand or lay on the bare ground. There were no beds and or chairs. Stools were not allowed into the cells until 1936.

iles st. joseph prison cells

Walking along the pleasant paths under the shade of the palm trees with birds singing all around us was a delight. As we climbed a stone-paved road to the main prison block that was exposed to the blazing sun, our perspective changed. Insects, spiders and lizards were in abundance. We saw a long train of bright red leaf-cutter ants marching up the hill along side us.

lizard at ile st. joseph

The intense heat was suffocating. The thick, green tropical foliage had reclaimed many of the buildings and softened their austere look, but we knew what had occurred here and couldn't imagine how the men had endured it. A life sentence was anything over 8 years. No one was expected to live longer than that in these conditions. We thought of other prisons we've visited … Port Arthur and Sarah Island in Tasmania and America's Alcatraz Island and wondered what heinous crime, if any, could warrant such barbaric, brutal treatment.

ile st. joseph prison ruins

From a vantage point on the north side of the island, we could see Devil's Island, the worst of the worst.

view of devil's island from ile st. joseph

No visitors are allowed on the island and this is strictly enforced, due to the European Space Center monitoring stations there, though nothing was visible. What we could see was one solitary building, supposedly where Captain Alfred Dreyfus was housed during his wrongful incarceration for treason.

dreyfus prison house on devil's island, french guiana

The sky suddenly turned dark and opened up with a heavy, hard, tropical rain. We sought shelter under the thick foliage, though in truth, the shower felt good. The same view of Devil's Island changed dramatically with the downpour.

view of devil's island, french guiana in a downpour

The rain cleared as suddenly as it had begun. A small beach, which was obviously not available to the prisoners, came into view. It was appealing, but signs forbidding swimming indicated strong currents, undertow and lots of sharks. We passed on a dip.

beach on ile st. joseph french guiana

Just beyond the beach was a cemetery, an immediate draw for us. We walked through rows of burial mounds, outlined with rocks, most markers long since gone. The few markers that were still legible were for the military, guards and their family. Prisoners' corpses were flung unceremoniously into the sea to feed the sharks.

cemetary on ile st. joseph french guiana

We completed our circuit of the tiny island, only a couple kilometers around, and headed back to Cups for a cold beer. Ile Royale is next on the agenda.

Arrival at Ile St. Joseph

shiptrak 104

Iles du Salut, French Guiana

We motored all the way to the anchorage. We saw the loom of Cayenne to port and then Kourou, hazy glows on the horizon. Les Iles du Salut, the Salvation Islands, lie about 8nm off the mainland. We saw the Ile Royale Light from 15 nm out, blinking twice every 10 seconds, a beacon on a very dark night. The moon would not rise till near midnight and the islands appeared as big mounds, just a bit darker than the night itself. An unlit fishing boat came too close for comfort, appearing out of nowhere and only then turning on his lights. Yikes!

Entering an unknown anchorage at night is not usually prudent, however this was a wide open area with no hazards other than the islands themselves. We anchored blindly...there were no other boats and no light other than the sweep of the lighthouse. The chart noted several commercial moorings close to shore, so we hung back a bit and found good holding in about 35' (10m). We'd re-anchor as necessary in the morning when we could see what we were doing. We tidied up the lines, then exhausted, sat and relaxed in the cool midnight air. David had put rum and tonic in the fridge and we indulged in a cocktail. Easy drunks after a month without alcohol...one drink and we were ready for the sack.

A gentle pitch in response to a light swell on the bow and the lap of water against the hull lulled us into broken sleep... who's on watch?