ABSTRACT
“Piratas, Piratas!,” the Spanish Ambassador famously exclaimed before King James in his obsessive quest to obtain Raleigh’s head in 1618, and sure enough, there they were! I wanted to experience from seaward what Raleigh and his troops saw and felt when they first sighted the forested shoreline off the great Orinoco delta. Painted dark green, our boat resembled a coast guard vessel, so as soon as we hove into view at mid-morning, poachers and other traffickers illegally working Venezuelan waters frantically hauled up gear, huge engines started with terrific roars, and a flotilla of sleek craft began dashing at maximum speed for the marine boundary and Trinidad the instant they caught sight of us.
