The Seychelles: Mapping the History of Paradise

Larry's enchantment with the Seychelles Islands began with maps and books and he took his first trip there in the early 1990s. Since then he has built a unique collection of historic prints and joins expeditions to the region as a guest lecturer.

Your background is as a professor of political science (now retired). What got you started in collecting books and maps of the Indian Ocean area? And what first drew you to the Seychelles?

I first visited the Indian Ocean in the 1960s—Dar Es Salaam, Mombasa, Malindi, Zanzibar, Mozambique Island, Durban, etc.—and was immediately and forever-after enthralled.

Nearly 30 years later, I traveled to the Seychelles on a speaking tour and have returned several times since. My passion for book and map collecting began quite serendipitously after I purchased a second copy of a book I already owned, leading to my first antiquarian catalogue in 1994. I chose to focus solely on the Indian Ocean and over many years built an all but unique personal collection of the region.

What do maps tell us about Seychelles history and the map-makers themselves?

Early Indian Ocean maps (16th – 18th centuries) are windows into the state of European interest in the area. The Bellin map (see illustration above) is interesting in that all the lines show where French explorers traveled as they began to map this little known part of the ocean. While the coastlines became known from Vasco da Gama's time onward, the smaller islands were uninhabited and uncharted. Early maps are full of fanciful islands, islands that do not exist, or those portrayed as being far bigger than they are in reality. The mapmakers were reflecting and fusing together legends with bits of real information, but reliable mapping of the Seychelles would wait until the late 18th and 19th centuries.

Who first used those maps to settle the Seychelles?

It is quite certain that Arab mariners knew of Aldabra, and early Portuguese voyagers saw at least a few of the islands, but none were claimed by foreign powers until the late 18th century. The first recorded landing in the Seychelles was in 1609, on Mahé Island, by an East India Company ship.

The actual settlement of Mahé was initiated by the French governors of Ile de France (Mauritius) in the mid-1700s, in the context of the intense regional political competition with the British. France took possession of the Seychelles in 1756 but lost them to England at the end of the Napoleonic Wars. The French brought with them numerous slaves from Africa and Madagascar—the slave population far exceeding that of all Europeans. From this beginning, and joined later by the few immigrants from Britain, India, and China, would emerge the Creole society that is the Seychelles today.

When you first set foot in the Seychelles, did you identify with those early explorers? What places present today's visitors with a rounded picture of the islands?

Just imagine…One hundred and fifteen islands scattered across 540,000 square miles of the western Indian Ocean, and entirely uninhabited until the late 18th century. I did indeed feel as though I had discovered paradise, as do most visitors even today. Victoria, a capital city with one traffic light, offers a good view of the cultural ambiance. Alec Waugh's book, Where the Clocks Strike Twice, evokes the quiet life of colonial Seychelles—a life not entirely absent today. In a spectacular setting in the Mahé hills, mission ruins, in what was called Venn's Town, take us back to a 19th-century Anglican school established to educate freed slaves.

Walking in the islands is a delight unto itself. The trails in the Vallée de Mai National Park, on Praslin Island, lead to the coco-de-mer palm groves—the national symbol of the sensual Seychelles. This palm's unique nut is the stuff of books and legends. But the primeval canopied forest of the park offers much more and reminds us what tropical islands were like prior to human settlement.

Wonderful birds inhabit nearly every island and seeing endemic species such as the Seychelles fody, paradise flycatcher, or the Aldabra drongo is quite a thrill. Underwater, the snorkeling and diving here are truly superlative; the water is so clear, the coral remains mostly undamaged, and the range of tropical fish is nearly unmatched in the world.

Aldabra is, ultimately, the centerpiece of our voyage. What makes it so special?

That Aldabra has been saved is little short of a miracle. Early mariners captured tortoises for food, and various companies repeatedly searched for possibilities to make Aldabra economically viable. Fortunately, the remote location, inhospitable terrain, and lack of guano, meant that nothing took hold for long.

Under pressure from naturalists who sought to protect the giant tortoises, the colonial government eventually made Aldabra a Nature Reserve; World Heritage Site status followed in 1982. Under this protection the tortoise population has grown from modest numbers in 1900 to well over 100,000 today. Both later colonial officials and the Seychelles government deserve much credit for understanding that the natural beauty of Aldabra—and indeed the rest of the Seychelles—was, in fact, its greatest national asset. As a result, nearly half of the country's land mass has been dedicated to both national and marine parks, and special reserves. Visitors to the Seychelles will still find a natural paradise—no less intriguing, and no less magical than when it was first seen and mapped by early explorers.

Join Larry on our Ultimate Seychelles expeditions in February and March 2009, and view some of his collected maps.