Musings on Gobzaga Bay

Much has been written about Gobzaga and none of it shall be repeated here. The mythical location of the birthplace of the Wildman is a subject of much speculation. In a famous painting done of the Gobzaga bay, Michelangelo depicts a cerulean sea with white caps reflecting perfectly the serene sky and clouds above. Along the curving bay the viewer witnesses warm sandy beaches lined with thick verdant foliage. The pale trunks of the trees contrast against the deep green of the leaves. In another part of the mural, a lone Spanish Galleon is moored in the calm waters.

Closer inspection shows two native Gobzagans (clearly human forms with their tanned skin and long flowing manes of hair) near the shore, hovering at the edge between plant and silica. The male Gobzagan ventures forward with more confidence, his gaze tilting in a line between the shore and the Galleon. The female figure hangs back, a step and a half behind, hiding her fear behind long flowing locks of black hair that hangs down in front of her face and discreetly covers her bosom. They are both nude, which is how the artist depicts all natives, Gobzagan or not.

Turning attention back to the Spanish Galleon, a single thick rope leads from the bow and dives down at a steep angle toward the sea. One almost hears the creaking of ropes and lumber as the seas lap around the base of the strong ship. Her sails are forlorn and sagging, implying a lack of wind to stir them. No invisible viagra moves the flaccid flag sailing from the top mast (which is incidentally how Michelangelo depicts this is an actual Spanish Galleon and not, say, an Italian Galleon).

The decks of the ship are shockingly empty, as if the hanging coils of ropes and various wooden equipment on deck had just recently been handled and are merely awaiting the quick return of the sailors. The side of the Galleon facing the viewer shows the cannon hatches are opened and the eight cannon are extended and pointed toward the curved line of the bay. The angle of the attack of the cannon and side of the ship point downward from where the tentative Gobzagans peer out from the foliage.

Along the other side of the mural, which by its perspective implies the viewer is looking at this window onto a vista from the side of a bluff or cliff, some craggy rocks and resolute trees grip the sides of a rocky mountain tightly. From the viewer's perch somewhere on this steep slope (seemingly), the wind blows by a bit quicker. One sees and tastes the effect of this salty wind from the bay below in the ruffled feathers of some nesting seagulls on a few rocks in the near-distance. The birds' beaks betray their line of sight, downward and forward toward the ship in the bay.

Somewhere implied deep within the bowels of the ship, one wonders if the seamen are sleeping on a hot day enjoying their siesta, or perhaps quietly planning the next leg of their trip. Somewhere onshore, one could imagine a landing party (perhaps with the captain leading the expedition) to find water. This last scenario is plausible but unlikely because Michelangelo has not seen fit to draw in a ferry boat on the shore of the calm bay. Perhaps the the landing boat is beached somewhere underneath the curve of the rocky slope of the foreground, but that too is unlikely as there is a wonderful spot to land right over there, just below the depiction of the timid Gobzagans.

Another noticeable absence to confirm our suspicion of a landing party is the lack of foot prints in the sand, which should be visible  by a group of 5 or 10 sailors making a landing there to explore and stock up on rations which are clearly plentiful on the lush island. Looking closer at the ship, the viewer is unable to see any signs of a landing or ferry boat, unless the boat is hanging off the back or side of the ship that is not visible from the viewer's perspective.

Rising above the far distance of the treetops rises a sharp spire of an ancient volcano with wispy fragments of cloud cover circling the peak. The viewer immediately assumes this ancient and lifeless volcano must be the original mother of this tropical island wilderness, giving birth to such beautiful bounty and tranquility in the middle of the vast deep blue-green ocean.

Michelangelo did paint Gobzaga, but where did he put the Wildman? Look closer and you should see him. He must be there somewhere.