The Tocantins forest preread

Copyright

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be

reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any

means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic

or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of

the publisher.

ISBN: 978-90-9033628-2

Content

1. Preface

2. Looks like Lego

3. His Masters Voice

4. Xenufobia

5. Paradiso

6. Wood attitude

7. A miracle in Coytacazes

8. Barreirinha Business Case

9. Von und zu Liechtenstein

10. Genesis 2.0

11. Lords of Liberia

12. The Budapest Bubble

13. Rudabanya Telecom

14. The Tocantins Forest

15. Catch-all Containers

16. Arkeologie

17. Granddad’s Portolio

18. Fall of the Sun King

19. Clearwater Revival

20. Tom Tom Cruise Control

Addendum

Preface

It has been over a year now since I started writing my book. Based on true

events, and documented.

It describes a reality, not the exclusive reality, yet one that exists and which

has a major influence on the functioning of society.

Sometimes in life one comes across something that makes you rub your eyes.

In my case, that happened in 2019, during a conversation about a business

proposal.

My interlocutor made some startling statements. One of these involved a large

parcel of rainforest in Brazil. As big as the province of North Brabant in the

Netherlands, where I was born. Astonished as I was, I decided to investigate

the matter.

I soon came across a curious and inimitable press release issued by a company

listed on the Budapest stock exchange. It intrigued me and marked the

beginning of a year of research and legal entanglements, as well as the

imminent birth of my book.

I take you along on a journey to the rainforests of Brazil and Liberia, tax

havens and the banks of the Danube. In a quest to get to the heart of the

matter; the question of what on earth is wrong with the lungs of the world

Gio Ferrarius

The Tocantins forest, Ferrarius

Barreirinha Business Case

July 3, 2009, Barreirinha, Amazonas. André Roberto dos Santos

Manfredini looks over the Andira River, a branch of the great Amazon.

Sheltered from under the roof of the rented Jeep that just took him from

Parentins to Barreirinha in less than an hour. The black Andira shines silky

under the midsummer sky as a handful of fishermen steer their boats through

the quietness of the awakening rainforest.

Manfredini thanks driver Joao. Joao has the rest of the morning off. He can do

whatever he wants. Manfredini expects him back around noon to take him to

the afternoon meeting in the rainforest.

He walks leisurely to the Andira River Hotel. This morning he'll meet the

capitães of the Sateré-Mawé families who live along the edges of the Andira

river.

Not that the capitães are in charge; the tuxauas call the shots over here! They

are the leaders of the villages. But he has to meet with the capitães first.

Roberto Manfredini knows... They are the liaison officers, appointed by the

river inhabitants in consultation with municipalities and the powerful

Catholic Church.

In the villages they enjoy healthy distrust. They are necessary because they

provide protection. Protection against the white men, who are after the

richesses of nature. But they also ask something in return. Their support

comes at a price! Eighty percent of the Sateré-Mawé is baptized, Catholic that

is. Baptized but not evangelized. Chrstianity has to start somewhere, right?

The hotel is located at the corner of an intersection, diagonally across a

brightly lit snack bar with painful ocher walls, opposite a small souvenir

shop. Plastic everywhere, lots of plastic garden furniture. White, with halfheight

railings that get sticky whenever it's hot. Monsters, causing deep red

painful grooves in the buttocks, and feel awful when one tries to stand up.

Wobbly, yet stable they decorate terraces and balconies, harmonizing

surprisingly well into the scenery.

Directly behind the snack bar, a single skyscraping palm tree towers over the

half-height dark rainforest. The intersection is neatly laid out in large

yellowish sandstone slabs with smooth curves around the corners and slightly


refreshes the adjacent gray buildings. The street is wide enough for two cars

that pass occasionally during the day.

The gray concrete terrace of the Andira River Hotel is only separated from the

street by its color and a slight height difference. It slumbers in the morning

sun, awaitening a few occasional visitors that may pass by this morning to

populate its empty white plastic seating surrounding ditto square tables.

Manfredini enters the hotel. A young lady leans on a bar stool with her

shoulders forward. The face hidden behind her long-hanging black hair, she

studies her mobile. Everyone has a mobile. Also on a July-morning at nine in

Barreirinha, and there is always something going on in outer space ...

"Good morning, young lady," Manfredini begins. "I have a meeting here this

morning with the capitães of the Sateré-Mawé families." The woman replies

with a fleeting nod in the direction of the center of the room: "Please sit down

senhor, the men will be there soon; would you like a drink?" Manfredini asks

for a glass of water. He is dressed informally, knows what to expect. So no tie

today, and for once also short sleeves. It is actually quite nice. He sits down

and makes himself thoughts on how the conversation might go. "Not too

intense", he thinks, "this afternoon will be harder."

In the distance Manfredini hears footsteps and voices approaching. Men, it

sounds like. He gets up, walks to the twelve feet-long regulars' table with red

cloth overhang and posts himself behind it. Manfredini is not big, but still

impressive. A Rock..., not thick but sturdy, with a square head bolted on a

broad double chin. His face uncovers about fifty years of burden and joy. His

eyes look stern through narrowed eyelids and an elegant round gold spectacle

frame.

He puts a heavy brown leather folder on the table in front of him, the halfopen

zipper pointing at the prospective audience. Just so that they know there

is something in it!!!

The capitães enter the space exchanging small talk. They are seven in number.

A few of them greet Manfredini: “Bom dia”. The rest shy away behind the

tables and the space before them that Manfredini has claimed for himself.

Manfredini spreads his hands and begins: “Good morning dear people, and

thank you for giving me the opportunity to tell my story here this morning.


My name is André Roberto dos Santos Manfredini, and I represent a number

of parties with interests in timber extraction.”

The crowd returns a neutral look. They already knew that ... They look at the

stocky figure, centrally behind his self-invented altar, flanked to the left and

right above him by two enormous air-conditioning units, and supported from

the back by a man-sized refrigerator with glass doors. In front of him a secret

that lies on the table. See there the collected weapon armory of Mr.

Manfredini. It's impressive ...

“I am aware,” Manfredini continues with some exaltation, “that things have

happened in the past. Things that perhaps were not always easy to

understand for the residents of Barreirinha. But today I am here to make you

a decent proposal that will continue to benefit the population for many years

to come.”

He pauses to reinforce his words and observe the capitães one by one. It is a

mixed ensemble, in length and uniform, but less so in age. Tanned and with

grooves, trousers and shorts. Blouses in bright colors, sometimes socks,

sometimes not, in shoes or sandals and three straw hats.

A slender tall man raises his hand: “You know — I suppose — that people

have been robbed in the past, lost their land. There has been violence; the fish

are gone, the trees disappear…”

Manfredini awards the man an understanding look: “I heard about that, and

if it is true, then that is a disgrace! But let's not look back in resentment. What

has been has been. The future lays ahead of us ...”

“Yes senhor, but it hurts, and deeper than you think senhor! Make no

mistake! Tell us who do you represent and what is your proposal?”

"Look, first of all you have to realize that my clients are the rightful owners of

the land around Barreirinha."

"How do you know that? There are more who have said that!” The man is

now speaking fiercely and with restrained anger.

Manfredini grimaces and makes a soothing gesture: "We are not here to

argue, the owners want to find a good solution."

“Not Gerardo the dutchman again, right? He is not welcome here senhor; he

is an enemy of the people.”

“Gerardo?” Manfredini thinks for a moment. "Oh, you mean Mr. Bartels?"


"Yes, that's the one I'm talking about."

“No, I am not acting on behalf of Mr Bartels, I am acting on behalf of RDF, of

Mr Tilanus. He operates a frame and flooring company close to Manaus and

has taken over the land from Mr Bartels.”

“Okay, never heard of him. We would like to receive information about that

company. What is it called?"

"IPA, the company is called IPA: Industria De Pisos Da Amazonia."

“Tudo bem, we'll see. What is your proposal?”

"Very well... Of course we understand that the Sateré-Mawé need a piece of

land to live on. On the other hand, we want to exploit our land and need

access to the rivers. We think we have found a good compromise by giving

the people a permanent piece of land on loan. We will clearly delineate each

area, so that we can start using the rest.”

"How much land for each family are you thinking off?" another man asks.

“Four hectares, four hectares per family, that is. There are four hundred

families, so sixteen hundred hectares in total.”

The capitães laugh off the proposal: “four hectares? You are kidding, that's

sounds like a poor joke!!”

“Ungrateful dogs” thinks Manfredini: “Four hectares! Do you know how

much that is? That's eight entire football fields!!!”

“We don't play football here, senhor. And they are not football fields, it is

forest. And the forest is where the animals live, and sometimes there are

more, and sometimes there are less. And sometimes it rains a lot and

sometimes it doesn't. We don't know, do we? And the fish? The fish in the

river are gone senhor! Professional fishermen senhor! And not one but

dozens, every day! And then our trees; they sometimes bear fruits, and

sometimes also nuts. And we eat them sir! We eat them… It all vanishes as

the white men enter, sir!!!"

Manfredini sighs… “Look, we think it's a good proposition. I can't imagine a

single person in the world who cannot live of four hectares of land. That is

absurd! Please think carefully and accept our proposal! You won't regret it,

and the region will benefit.”

The meeting struggles on for another half hour. The capitães grumble, and

Manfredini does not budge. At eleven-thirty Manfredini decides to end the

meeting. He takes the brown folder from the table and pulls out several


copies of the draft agreement. The capitães promise to discuss the document

but give him little chance.

That afternoon Manfredini has an appointment with one of the supervisors on

behalf of RFD, some kilometers from the coast, in the middle of the tropical

rainforest. Joao takes him there.

Joao drives the Jeep inland along makeshift sandy asphalt roads. To Vila Bom

futuro. The meeting place is an open space, surrounded by sometimes more,

sometimes less penetrable forest.

There is a truck with a trailer, a crane and a shovel, spread over the site.

Manfredini gets out. In the near distance he hears the chainsaws in irregular

effort. At least in three different places around them. No birds; it is quiet

between the chainsaw’s outbursts. “Fled from force of war”, Manfredini

thinks.

A bellied man with bent legs in sneakers approaches him. He is wearing a

checkered shirt with short sleeves; loose buttons. The air circulation does its

job. The man holds out his hand: “Enrique”.

"Good afternoon Enrique, I'm Roberto Manfredini, I assume you were

expecting me?"

“Sure senhor, for sure. I'll show you how we work here. Mr. Tilanus ask me.”

"Good, thank you. How many people do you have in your team?"

"About twenty. Sometimes more. Work here as long as light. When darkness

comes we break up, bring wood to port of Barreirinha or Parentins.

Sometimes we sleep in woods, depends on weather, and also on

assignments.”

“Oh really…? You say assignments, you get assignments?”

"Si senhor, sometimes more sometimes less, depends."

And how do you get paid? Per hour or so? ”

“Hahaha, no senhor. Of course not, cannot control. Paid per tree. Big tree,

small tree, fat tree, thin tree, expensive tree, cheap tree ...”

Manfredini tries to understand the system: "And who determines that?"

“Inspector senhor, inspector. In harbor senhor. He says beautiful tree, not

beautiful tree, tree good, tree sick, tree big, tree small. Then make price.”

"Oh, sick trees too?"


“No senhor, sometimes we make mistake, we not cut down sick tree, is

pathetic, no money, people are angry.”

Manfredini looks at Enrique: “Can you show me how it works?

"Si senhor ..." Enrique beckons Manfredini to follow him. The men walk

towards the edge of the forest.

Manfredini finds the forest intimidating, it is dark, and sometimes stupidly

high. Between the trees are shrubs he does not know, and leaves that hang

and are exceptionally large. Some of those look cheerful, but most hang

downwards in grief and remorse. There are rugged grasses, standing upright

and unwilling to make way... And who knows what hides in there? On legs or

slippery, or secretly hidden behind a branch or even underground? Will they

sting or bite or just look at you, with scary eyes, not clarifying their

intentions?

And the forest is muggy. Drops are falling, and the sun - which he knows is

shining - isn't there. “The chainsaws are nice”, Manfredini thinks, “those

animals don't fancy them", he guesses… "Fortunately…”

"And", Manfredini thinks: "Enrique probably knows what he's doing."

They walk about forty meters through dense thickets into the forest until they

reach a more sparsely overgrown part. On the edge of it stands a man, barechested,

busy with his chainsaw. The left foot in front, his back bent forward,

he pushes the saw blade through the tree trunk.

“Free ticket for the orthopedist; neck, shoulders, elbow, take your pick...”,

Manfredini thinks.

A second man stands by and looks at it. A helmsman, the tree must fall

properly ...

After a few minutes, the tree starts cracking. Slowly but inevitably the

movement sets in. Step by step by step by step, the colossus rotates round its

roots in logarithmic acceleration to finally crash to earth with thunderous

violence.

Booomm…. Meanwhile branches crack and the trunks of imprudent, close by

standing nephews and nieces break through hissing and loudly protesting

screens of leaves in a mist of dust and sand into the eternal darkness.


In a couple of attempts, the tree bounces back in slow motion, with

descending strength, until it finally comes to rest on the ground. A desparate

last sigh, trying to to justify its existence, whilst an unruly fraction of the

surrounding crop pulls itself up like a dizzy boxer processing a right hook.

The sound slowly fades with a brief belch now and then.

Manfredini stares at the spectacle as if petrified. At the supreme moment, he

thinks: "Aiii, there he goes, there he goes", while tension thumps its way

through his body like shock of an electric fence. "Wow, what's going on here

???"

He assesses the havoc. That tree just hammered a hole in the jungle.

"Enrique?" Says Manfredini, "how long will it take for this to recover?"

"Oh, thirty years tree, thirty years tree senhor."

"So, it takes thirty years before there is such a big tree again?"

“Si senhor, thirty years tree. Sometimes twenty years tree, also good…”

"Ow, and the rest around it, that's all dead too!"

Enrique looks at Manfredini quizzically: “There is no other way, senhor, there

is no other way. Will be good again soon, will not take long.”

"And those very tall trees?"

“Sixty-year tree, hundred-year tree, don't touch... Is not good…"

"Not good?"

Si, not good. Big, lot of rubbish, lot of sawing, lot of time, difficult difficult.”

"But don't they stand in the way?"

“Si, sometimes. There is no other option… Sometimes just saw…”

Manfredini watches the men free the tree from the fallen clutter around it.

“Forest management”, he thinks. “Selective logging. Very modern.”

“Hey Enrique, I heard that these days there’s also strict surveillance by the

government. Do you ever notice anything of that at all?”

“Hahahaha, si senhor, sometimes, sometimes inspector man with suit and bag

comes with questions, we show papers, he is gone, everything is fine, no

problems. Men with chainsaws senhor, he likes it.”

Manfredini knows that the government is powerless, the reaction does not

surprise him. The area is simply too big. How do you guard one and a half


million square kilometers of tropical rainforest? It is almost impossible to do.

Aerial photos and satellites must do the job, but each and any discovery is too

late. It’s impossible to surveil by road, from the state-capital Manaus to

Barreirinha takes seventeen hours by four-wheel drive.

"Do those people come often?"

“No senhor, not often. Forest is large, four hundred million square meters

belongs to Mr Tilanus. Is big, senhor, can not find us. We're already gone,

gone... “

"Hmm, that sounds safe", Manfredini thinks: "And you never had any

problems?"

“Well once senhor. Mr Gerardo was problem.”

"You mean Mr. Bartels?"

Si senhor. Cut too much!! He comes and says: "Wrong trees, wrong trees !!!,

hide the logs, hide!!!". We put logs in river, senhor.”

"You threw the logs in the river?"

Si senhor, three thousand logs in Andira. Big problem. Mr inspector angry.

Mr Bartels must pay fine.”

Manfredini knows the story. Three thousand logs had been dumped in the

Andira River. Bartels was addressed about it. The fine for the offense was

modest, five thousand reals, about fifteen hundred dollars, but the damage

was enormous. Bartels had to give up his land.

And, there were some more troubles. Mr. Bartels, as a foreign resident, could

not own more than two thousand seven hundred and fifty hectares under

Brazilian law. Much less than the area he had purchased. Seventy thousand

hectares, seven hundred million square meters.

There had already been problems before, in 1999. Bartels founded Eco Brazil

Ltda a year earlier in Belèm. Responsible forest management in Amazonas

and the neighboring state of Para, that was what he aimed for. He tried to find

investors in Brazil, but did not find any, and started looking for capital

abroad. He eventually found that in the Netherlands. The company Eco Brasil

BV was founded, and Bartels sold ninety percent of its shares to that

company. The Dutch went to work in the tropical forest south of Barreirinha.


Without the necessary concessions because there weren't any yet. In fact, the

procedures for obtaining them had barely been initiated.

A famous poet lived in Barreirinha at that time. Thiago de Mello is his name.

A former exile who returned to his hometown after the end of the military

dictatorship in 1985. He became famous, his works were published in thirty

languages, an icon of regional literature. But also an activist. He was

committed to the local indigenous population. When he heard of illegal

activity in the jungle around his hometown, he alerted the authorities.

The governor of Amazonas, Amazonino Mendez, went to the scene of the

incident, accompanied by the military police. Fifty kilometers south of

Barreirinha he found four Dutchmen, busy depriving the forest of its soul. It

was the people of Eco Brasil. Mendez issued an order to cease operations, but

the Dutch had been rather brutal.

They told him to move away from the property, and they would keep going

on, because the forest was theirs. They had bought it from Mr. Bartels from

Belèm.

And - they had added - all the families of small producers who worked in the

forest had to leave. If necessary, the Dutch would drive them out.

Mendez issued his order, warning that he would return. If the Dutch were

still active, he would proceed to take them into custody. The Dutch did not

obey, and in the end Thiago de Mello, the hero of the people, was even

threatened with death.

The area was then wiped clean by the Military Police in a joint action with the

locals during a ten-day campaign.

Bartels, who heard about the incidents, was shocked. He also heard that the

people of Eco Brasil in the Netherlands were selling the Brazilian land

through a speculative investment fund. He tried to reverse the sale of the

stock but was unsuccessful.

The Dutch fund Eco Brasil made a mess of it. The owners indulged in

expensive hobbies. Cars and yachts and other conveniences. And they

gambled a lot of the money in casinos. Millions of euros disappeared in all

directions to companies in which the gentlemen had an interest. Only a


quarter of the forty-five million euros they knocked out of Dutch investors

ended up in Brazil. And what happened with all that money? Who knows ...?

And there was little or no yield, because clearing a forest is quite a job. Even

more so in a tropical jungle. They had of course promised the investors in the

Dutch fund a return, a staggering one percent per month. So they paid that

from the contributions of new participants in the fund. But in the end, the jar

only returns to the well until it breaks, doesn't it? So, the bottom of the

treasury soon came into sight. A classical Ponzi-scheme…

Anyway, Eco Brasil in the Netherlands went bankrupt, and Bartels sold the

Brazilian Ltda, with the consent of the curator, to Ewald Tilanus, who used

his dormant company “RDF Empreendimento” for this purpose.

Ewald, at his turn, sold that company on to FIAM bv, another Dutch fund,

which exploited similar concessions in Costa Rica.

Simultaneously Ewald divested part of the land to him - André Roberto dos

Santos Manfredini -. And as Roberto is Brazilian, he can possess significant

stretches of land in the country. Five thousand hectares, that was the first

transaction. Roberto then moved those lands to his companies Asgard Ltda

and Barreirinha Florestal Ltda.

More transactions followed, and eventually Roberto now owns the entire

former property of Eco brasil in the state of Amazonas.

Manfredini sighs. So, he now has that land, but those Dutch people from

FIAM now also claim the same land, because they own the company RDF.

They say Tilanus should never have made that transaction without their

consent. He had no mandate! Yummy!!!! The Dutch are crazy. Twice the same

piece of land, and twice tens of millions down the drain. “Don't those people

understand that forestry costs a lot of time and money? Either way, it is a

mess. Who can now claim the exploitation of the Barreirinha forest? Maybe

they should talk…”

Manfredini looks at the place where the tree has just fallen to the ground. He

estimates how tall the tree must have been; about twenty-five meters...

And the crown? He thinks barely ten meters wide. He takes another look at

the surrounding damage. “At least two hundred and fifty square meters all

together,” he thinks. “That is two and a half percent of a hectare…”

"Hey Enrique, how many trees would you normally cut on a lot like this one?"


“Shouldn't be too much, senhor. Six, eight at the most… And then on.”

“On again? How do you mean?"

"Well, senhor ... Just make road bigger and there six trees again". Enrique

points to the right with an outstretched arm while looking at Manfredini.

Manfredini looks along the direction of Enrique's arm. He narrows his eyes

and calculates, “Okay, that's a hundred meters away; a hundred meters times

five meters wide, because the machines have to go through it, that's another

five hundred square meters. So, for every six trees also a track through the

forest. A surface comparable a third of the piece of land sadly lost by the six

fallen trees. Twenty percent in total!!! Crazy… I cut six trees and cause a

twothousand meters of damage. Shittttt…”

He takes another look at the tree. “Well, fortunately there is enough,” he

thinks. “If you'd cut a whole chunk of forest at once, they'd just put cows on it

anyway, and then it will never recover at all… They better dump those damn

cows somewhere in the Cerrado, right?

“Enrique, thank you for the tour and your explanation. I'm glad I saw it.” He

reaches out and slaps Enrique on the shoulder. Enrique laughs, he is happy

and a bit proud at the same time.

The woodcutter and the helmsman stand by and look at it: "Idiots, hurry up a

bit, every single tree feeds the family!!!"

Joao takes Manfredini to Vila Bom Futuro, a small community, where he

meets Tuxaua Afonso. Manfredini gets off on the path when entering the

forest. Afonso is already waiting for him.

An older man, well in his sixties, thin and tanned. A spacious felt hat slants

forward almost over the eyes and rests on bushy graying eyebrows, with

Brazilian dark, joyless eyes in a shiny brown, porous face.

"Hello senhor, welcome to our village."

Manfredini greets Afonso with a firm handshake: “Thanks’ for having me! I

am curious about life here and the history of the village. I assume that you

know that I own the land here?”

Afonso gives Manfredini a hard look: "You are not the first to claim that."

"I know, but I have evidence with me, I can show it to you."


"You're not the first to claim that ..."

"I understand your reserve, because a lot has happened, but I come here with

good intentions ..."

“You're not the first to say that… I will tell you senhor, there have been white

men here before. Men who also said the land belonged to them. They gave us

sugar cane cachaça and offered hammocks and mosquito nets. We had a

drink together, and it was good. They threw a lot of money on the table,

senhor. More than I had ever seen. But what does that bring me? There is

nothing to spend it on over here!

Anyhow, they left... Later they came back with big machines, and they made

their way through the forest.” Afonso points to a path that disappears into the

dark forest diagonally behind Manfredini.

“And look, there! Senhor, that bare woodland clearing. They started cutting...

The best trees first. And now we see them everywhere, those clearings in the

forest around us. And the animals stay away senhor because there is nothing

to gain for them over here... And when we go hunting, they notice us from a

distance... They also cut the walnut trees and the guarana bushes from which

we make our ritual drink. So, life here is getting more and more difficult

senhor. And we live from the forest, you know. I sometimes visit the city, but

not often, I have no business there and it is a long journey.”

Manfredini understands his point, but still decides to check how Afonso will

respond to his proposal: “That is incredibly sad senhor, but - as I said before -

we want to make a reasonable proposal. We will leave the immediate vicinity

of your village alone. I will grant you and your fellow residents here the

unconditional use of four hectares of land. We will only exploit the forest

outside it.”

“Four hectares? How much is that? I don't know how much that is!”

"Okay Afonso, how many families live here in your village?"

"Three, we live here with three families."

"Okay, that's three times four, that's twelve hectares."

"Yeah so?"

“Uh, well, uhh ... If you look from here at that big tree in the middle, that

distance, and then all the way to where that road disappears into the forest ...

And then on that side, behind me, again the same."


Afonso looks at him quizzically: “But that's only the edge just before the

village!! No senhor, we cannot live on that, that is far too little. We must go

deep into the forest to gather our food, and hunt. That is way too little ... And

besides senhor: when it rains it is different from now. It is different!"

Manfredini hesitates for a long second, whilst rubbing the back of his head

with his palm. "Phew, that's gonna be hard," he thinks. He grants Afonso a

quick smile: “Listen; we will come back in a few months. Maybe me, maybe

someone else. Think about it… But remember you don't have much choice! If

I don't do it, someone else will. You know, someone owns the land! It belongs

to someone!!! It is a favor that you can stay here.”

Afonso now gets angry, he raises his voice and speaks slowly and with a

lower voice and restrained anger: “That remains to be seen, senhor. I will not

let you drive me away. And I'll not be driven out by anyone else either. We

live here, my father and mother lived here, my grandmother and grandfather,

and everything that came before. WE WILL NOT LEAVE HERE!!! And if need

be senhor; if necessary, there's more of us... Because we know each other, the

people from the villages. There is more of us and we will resist. You can count

on that….“

Manfredini looks him straight in the eye. No, this man will not give way easily.

There will be a battle to overcome those hurdles. He averts his gaze and glances

back at the small sandy path, and an open space that looks like a square. No

more than an enlarged sandbox. Sort of idyllic, with three houses around it,

made out of tree trunks and thatched roofs. Children are playing in the square.

Manfredini does not understand what they are doing. Nothing that looks

familiar to him.

He shakes hands with Afonso. "Thanks anyway for your time, and we'll talk

again."

"Goodbye senhor; I hear what you're saying, but don't be mistaken!!! "

Manfredini gets in the Jeep and Joao commands the thing up onto the path. "I

Can't leave an entire forest untouched, just for three of those huts, now can I?"

15 May 2010, `Manaus, Amazonas. Lawyer Platilha deals in land

transactions. For over ten years now he arranges all agreements for Bartels.

Manfredini is seated in a comfortable mahogany chair covered with full


leather cushions at the conference table. Besides him Michael Stadie and

Herald Janssen, his partners in Natural Resources Development. NRD would

like to play a role in the exploitation of the land around Barreirinha, and the

development of the area. The dominant role of the Catholic Church is a thorn

in the side. There is money, and there are connections.

There was a hearing in the Manaus court last week. The indigenous people of

Barreirinha on the Andira River claim the land on which they have been

living, hunting, and fishing for centuries.

The people from FIAM were there, Bartels was there, Manfredini was there,

Ewald Tilanus was there. And also, the people of the CPT, the Catholics who

fight shoulder to shoulder with the Sateré-Mawé in the battle for their right to

the land.

It is complex. Ewald sold the land to Manfredini on behalf of Bartels, but the

curator in the Netherlands claimed the company RDF, and with that the

rights to the exploitation of the forest. And then those Indians, who appeal to

a kind of acquired right. After all, they have been around for ages and cannot

just be chased off their land.

In the Netherlands, the shareholders of FIAM are chasing the board. Are they

finally going to do something, or what? It is clear they must act, there needs to

be spoken to get out of this situation in a way that is acceptable to everyone.

Herald takes the floor: “Hey Roberto, how are we doing now? I mean, you

guys over here of course, eh? What are the odds? "

Manfredini sighs: “It's not going to be easy Herald. Bartels bought that land,

seventy-two thousand hectares, of which - let's say - forty thousand is usable.

But that isn't possible Herald!!! There is a law here that says that a foreign

resident can only own a limited amount of land. On that basis, Bartels simply

cannot own more than two thousand seven hundred and fifty hectares in

Brazil.

So he simply has to elaborate a plan for the rest of the land. In addition,

dumping three thousand logs into the Andira river and having a famous poet

threatened with death also works against him. None of that is good for the

judge's mood, as I'm sure you understand…”


“Wow, that does not sound good, but is he still the owner now? I understood

that something had changed?”

“Yes, something has changed indeed. Look, Bartels was the Dutch consul here

in Belèm. That was not very adroit, since that helps a little too much in

acquiring that land, doesn't it? People will likely have trouble with that. And

he paid next to nothing for the whole lot of it! In short, there was too much

pressure on him, so he decided to transfer everything to a new company. And

that is what he did; to RDF, the company of Ewald Tilanus. But Ewald is

Dutch as well, therefore he sold the land on to me, but kept the logging rights.

Ewald has yet another company, here near Manaus, a flooring factory. And

alongside - of course - he facilitates some wood-trading. You will understand

that. Synergy, you know?"

"Yes, I understand. So, he has a sales channel to the Netherlands and

Europe?”

“Absolutely Herald, he has. Through a trading company here in Brazil, it is

called Tucunare, Tucunare Comercio De Madeiras. There is another Dutch

partner in it, one Ronald de Ru, who also has trading companies in the

Netherlands and Belgium. Serious sales channels, and excellent logistics

through the Benelux harbors.”

"Okay then, so you have to negotiate with him?"

"Who do you mean Herald?"

"Well, with that Ewald of course ..."

“Yes, for sure, but that's not all. Obviously, Fiam wants its share too. If Ewald

trades for commercial prices from his flooring company, directly with me,

that's nice for him, and maybe for me too, but in that case FIAM earns zilch,

eh? Only some licenses from the concessions. That's not greatly beneficial to

them, they'll never accept. And they can block everything because they

control RDF. So, we're caught in a deadlock.”

Herald looks through the window for a moment, as if reorganizing his

thoughts: “Who the hell came up with this idea? That is an impossible

construction Roberto !!”


"You can say that again. And then you have those Indians. They rely on an

old law guaranteeing the rights of the indigenous peoples. Basically, you can

own land, but you must let those Indians do their thing. You cannot chase

them away just like that! I have tried by promising them a generous part of

four hectares per family, but they won't accept that!!”

“Oh, and why is that? Four hectares? That's a lot for one family I would say?”

“No, they say not. It is not arable land, it is not pasture, it is a forest, they say.

And a forest is a bit tricky. It is densely overgrown, and you need a large area

for hunting, because that is how you should actually see it. They hunt and

they gather, just like we did in the old days. That's still the way it is over here,

Herald.”

There's a knock on the door. A young lady appears, and reports Mr. Tilanus

has arrived. "Let him in," says Platilha.

Ewald enters the room. In a reflex, Herald presses his body stiffly against the

backrest of the mahogany chair. His arms and face react with a short barely

visible contraction.

Who is that???

Admittedly, yes, it is a man, probably about his own age, but other than that

he looks like he flew in from outer space...

Ewald's legs vanish almost into nowhere under a huge torso. Sure, it is caged

by a jacket, and yes, one button is closed out of courtesy… but none of that

helps… The lapels stretch outwards, barely able to prevent an outburst of

Ewald's physic below. And there is a multitude of chest hairs in between!!!

The collars of the blouse underneath are far too large. They stand wide open.

Herald thinks up to the belly button, but that - of course - is just a guess….

The sleeves crease in an attempt to curb his loudly protesting muscles.

Ewald's head is sculptured with firm jaws and embellished with a carefully

groomed hip beard.

His eyes mock around brutally for anyone who might object to anything...

And then those poor legs ..., dressed in jeans. They just dangle along,

although Herald suspects that in reality, and disconnected from the rest, they

might well stand out...


“How did he get here? A Hummer...", Herald thinks, "wouldn't fit into

anything else…” He looks out of the window straight onto the parking lot,

not a Hummer. He spots a black, loudly shining Dodge Ram Van pick up

with grille and matching fancy stuff straight in the middle of the parking-lot.

"That must be him."

“Good morning gentlemen”, barks Ewald. "What are we going to do today?"

Manfredini, who has known Ewald for a while, explains: “Hello, Ewald. We

thought it would be good to sit down and discuss the situation. You also

attended the trial. What is your opinion?"

“Well, it's not that difficult, is it? You've got the land with the forest and I've

got the trading, why bother? I can easily trade everything that is cut. Bring it

on…"

“Yes of course, but what about FIAM? Don't they own RDF? "

“Oh, it doesn't matter, does it? I just buy the wood through IPA, not through

RDF, I would be crazy to do so, wouldn't I?"

Manfredini thinks for a moment. “Hmmm… That is of course not possible

Ewald, FIAM owns the concessions. That would be illegal ... And there's also

the matter with those Indians.”

“Gee guys, it's hot in here. I'm taking off my jacket.”

The blouse has short sleeves, and it is impossible to ignore the tattoos on the

forearms. Straight from the battlefield.

Herald is shocked, something like this is not common in Creationist circles.

Ewald gives him a defiant look. And what's your problem, brother?

He turns his face back to Manfredini.

“You don't have to do it yourself man! Don't be so naive!!! Does anyone need

to know? I bet you don't even have a chainsaw… Maybe someone else does?

No-one really needs to know… You've been there too, right? Then you know

how it works!

Moreover: those concessions are something between you and FIAM. It's none

of IPA's business.”


Manfredini listens but says nothing. Seems more sensible under these

circumstances.

“Oh, by the way”, says Ewald. “Do you know my brother Peter-Jan? No? He

owns a holiday park here in the Amazonas. Pretty place that is. Luxury

wooden huts on the riverbank. Adventurous holidays for those who can

afford it… He also runs an investment fund "Brasil Euro Invest". Well, he will

soon be appointed honorary consul of the Netherlands in Manaus soon.

Makes it easier again, right???”

Manfredini is surprised: “From consul to consul? Economic colonists in a

tropical treasury”.

“Well boys, if you have nothing else… I must move on. You'll find a way to

handle it one way or another, won't you?”

He grabs his jacket from the back of his chair and walks out: "Cheerio!"

The rest is left dumbfounded. In the distance, Herald hears the Dodge

ramming out of the street. Herald has made some inquiries in Europe. Illegal

timber is still coming in; via the Netherlands. And in the Amazonas there is

only one concession, and that is the one of FIAM. Of course, it could also

come from somewhere else... Illegally, without any doubt….

The Netherlands, 18 June 2019. It is nine o’clock in the morning.

I am sitting at the dining table in the conservatory, my laptop open. I have

read the stories about Eco-Brasil, and I translated the press releases in Brazil

newspapers on the adventures of Mr. Bartels. Amazing and hard to imagine

that the Dutch are so actively engaged in commercial logging and the abuses

associated with it.

I browse through the reports of the receiver in the bankruptcy of Eco-Brasil bv

in the Netherlands. The transaction with FIAM does not appear to have gone

directly. There was a company in-between, on Curacao. Forest Environment

N.V, is the scoundrel's name. The two million two hundred thousand dollars

that FIAM paid did not go to Brazil, the money went to Curacao!

The transaction appears to be signed by Ewald Tilanus and two other

Dutchmen: Tonny Hoegee and Remco van den Heuvel.


Against my better judgment, I consult the registers of the chamber of

commerce in Curacao. Certainly, “Forest Environment NV” is listed in there!

It was disbanded in 2017. What about the directors? Unfortunately, there is no

mention of any directors at all in the registers of the chamber in Curacao. Not

that special, quite common in Curacao! Nothing at all is known about the

company. No filings, no figures, no sign of life whatsoever. Where did those

two million go? We'll never know - I'm afraid. We'd have to ask the

signatories!

In addition to the land in Amazonas, Consul Bartels also appears to have

owned considerable plots in the adjacent state of Para. Almost three hundred

thousand hectares. In 2005, large parts of it were sold through Reflorestadora

Holanda, one of the subsidiaries of Eco Brasil in Manaus, to a Swiss listed

company “Precious Woods”. At first sight a neat company. As one of a few,

they can proudly lean on a positive assessment by Greenpeace.

It soon became apparent that a lot was wrong with the concessions, they were

not there or not in order. There was a large debt to the Brazilian tax

authorities, and there were fines. About USD 30 million in total.

The Swiss were tricked, they fell for it, and eventually almost went bust. In

2012, bankruptcy was averted by pulling out all the stops.

The seller on behalf of Reflorestadora was Tonny Hoegee. At that time,

Hoegee, together with van den Heuvel, was suspected of drug trafficking and

participation in a criminal organization engaged in organized prostitution.

Both gentlemen were on Interpol's international wanted list. A raid by the

federal police followed… Hoegee reportedly emigrated to Suriname shortly

afterwards.

What would these guys have received for that land? At least ten million,

suggests an article in the Swiss “Handelszeitung”. Precious Woods does not

disclose matters.

And what has the curator of Eco-Brasil in the Netherlands seen of it? The

answer is easy to guess...


“This chapter is based on true events, but the scene described (meeting on May 15,

2010) and dialogues in which the facts are presented were devised by the author as

part of the storytelling technique.”

In a reaction to this publication, Janssen states that he does not know Mr Bartels,

FIAM, RDF, Tilanus, Sateré-Mawé and Tucunare Comercio De Madeiras, and that

he did not participate in the meeting on 15 May 2010.


Von und zu Liechtenstein

Sunday 23 June 2019, the Netherlands. Less hot today. The morning

sun occasionally finds its way through passing cloud fields. A lazy morning

on my garden terrace, pleasant. I wake up as the world news reveals itself

through the magical window of my tablet. Two cups of coffee later I settle

down at the long table in the conservatory once again and open my laptop. I

read through the Genesis Energy press release one more time. Who would

that mysterious Herald A.M.A. Janssen be? I dig up several documents from

the internet ...

Herald was born in Sittard and studied at a university in Heerlen, the

Netherlands. His father was a real estate agent in the region, and Herald was

destined to follow in his footsteps. In those early years he is mainly active in

Belgium. He continues his career in the Royal Navy, after which he ends up

successively in Venezuela and New York.

In those years, Herald becomes well connected with organizations engaged in

asset management. After learning the tricks of the trade there, he settles in

Liechtenstein, where - at the end of the nineties - he founds his own

investment vehicle ”MJM-asset Management”.

I take a look in the registers of the Chamber of Commerce in Liechtenstein

and Switzerland and look for Mr Janssen. I come across two companies called

“Natural resources development”. They seem to have been set up to bring

ecological forestry projects to fruition. Coincidentally, I also come across a

company with the same name in the registers in Luxembourg.

Herald is or was a director of all three of these companies, together with one

“Markus Rohrbasser”. Markus is the former CFO of insurance Moloch Zurich

AG. He left there in the late 1990s after rumors of insider trading. Before that,

Markus works in New York, where he sets up the American office of UBS

Warburg. At the time one of the largest banks in the world, if not the largest.

Natural resources development has a subsidiary in Brazil: the “Boa fé

Participacoes LTDA”. This includes rights on the land around the “Fazenda

Boa fé”, a huge plot of land in the state of Amazonas in Brazil. In other words,

exploitation rights; its value is approximately sixty-five million euros


according to the balance sheet. “That's close to the value of Thomas' four

hundred and thirty-four thousand hectares from the press release,” I think.

And yes, there we have Genesis. The company I came across in the same press

release There are several companies named Genesis in the register. I decide to

look at them later.

I continue my search, find several articles mentioning Herald’s participation

in the “Fuckup festival” in Vorarlberg. He is presented as the main act,

alongside the Swiss ex-top skier Marc Girardelli.

The “Fuckup festival” is an annual happening. Every year the event visits a

different city in Europe. It's about business failures, and how the poor

business-failing souls found their way back to success after a painful struggle.

Herald tells about how he was suspected of complicity in the largest

insurance fraud ever on the European continent. An amount of up to four

billion German Marks was involved!!

Herald had made as much as thirty-two million from his intervention. But

that he had also embezzled another thirty-two million, as the prosecutor

said… Herald lost everything, which was a bit unfortunate, and very unfair.

Fortunately, he never lost faith in God, so things all turned out for the better

at the end. There you go!

Then I come across a podcast called: “Gods men of influence”. A radio station

in the American city of Pasadena. They provide a podium to people whom

God apparently sends to earth every now and then. Whilst they're amongst

the ordinary mortals out there, they exercise some influence on his behalf.

Herald apparently is such a person.

The introduction on God’s website is promising:

“When we read and hear about the story of Noah’s Ark, we can’t help but picture a

gargantuan vessel, capable of withstanding floods and able to corral a zoo’s worth of

animals. Our guest, Herald A.M.A. Janssen, is the director for an organization called

The Ark of Noah Foundation, and they have created a full-scale replica of biblical

proportions. A native of the Netherlands, Herald leads the European division on a

campaign to raise the funds they’ll need to transport the Ark all the way to Brazil.


Herald's journey to this foundation was filled with love for the Lord, and while he's

had an excellent Christian life, it did not come without its struggles. He faced a dark

time while working in asset management in Germany, when he was unfairly accused

of corporate fraud and spent over ten years struggling to stay afloat financial and

prove his innocence. Herald kept his faith in God throughout the whole ordeal, and his

prayers were answered.

He was later called to play a part innovative organization. The Ark of Noah's mission

is to spread the gospel to the many underprivileged communities in Brazil and other

countries in South America. With our assistance and support, we can help them

instill hope in the lives of many deserving children and families.

Recommended Verse:

“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.”

Genesis 1:1”

Herald is being interviewed this morning, exclusively. I listen:

“Good morning, dear listeners, this is Dino from “God’s men of influence”, let

me introduce you to Herald Janssen of the “Ark of Noah foundation”. How's

things going Herald?”

"Very good, thanks for the invitation to the show today."

“You’re very welcome. First let me ask you where you are from? listeners will

probably wonder about that, with that typical accent.”

"I understand; I was born in The Netherlands."

"Oh okay, and how long have you been here in the United States?"

“Well, I didn't really register as a citizen or anything, but recently I've spent

about four years here, living in the beautiful city of Malibu. My daughter

went to school there… She studied religion at Pepperdine.”

“Well, that could have been worse. Now, the first question I ask anyone who

comes here: ARE YOU READY TO EXPOSE YOURSELVE?”

"Yes of course!"

So much for the brief introduction, the real work is about to begin ... We now

know that Herald speaks with a striking accent, lives in Malibu, but then

again maybe not, and has at least one daughter. The interview continues:


"What is your favorite verse from the Bible?"

Herald answers without hesitation, "Genesis one verse one:" in the beginning

God created the heavens and the earth "; for me that is so powerful. We, with

all our energy and efforts, and how important we consider ourselves; it is

nothing… He created everything; we owe all the credit to him. He brings us

into his creation, and now he has given us this sandbox, and we can play in

it.”

“Yes, you said that well, so true!! If only you think of all the architecture that

was required for it.”

Strikingly enough, Dino chooses a technocratic interpretation of the story of

creation. His interest seems mainly focused on the constructional aspects,

“See, whether you are delving into the great issues of the universe, or looking

at just one cell, which is a universe in itself; It's amazing, it's so special, it can't

be a coincidence. There can be no doubt. It is God, to him is the glory!!

“Okay then, let me ask you: who are you today? I am going to ask you some

questions that go back to who you were and how the journey went to who

you have now become. How would you describe that?”

“I am a businessman, and my profession - with our company, where I work -

is to manage tropical rainforest. In Africa and in South America. At the same

time, I'm involved with this foundation here in Pasadena, California to

support the Ark of Noah project, which we'll talk about in a minute.”

“Interesting, and forgive me for asking, because frankly, I've never met

anyone who works in the rainforest business, huh-huh; what is rainforest

business? "

"It is; well, the old approach is that it's about timber trade, but you know,

when you're talking about sustainable forest management you want to utilize

the natural production of the forest without damaging the forest. Now, in the

old days, a piece of forest was cut down and little saplings planted, so that in

one trillion years there would be a new forest. That is of course not what we

want to do. The new way of sustainable forest management is to truly protect


the tropical rainforest. You go into the forest, and you just cut a very small

number of selected trees. For example, on one hectare of land, we may only

harvest five or eight trees. And to still make a little turnover, you simply need

a lot of land. That's why we manage over eight-hundred thousand hectares of

land in Africa and South America within the company. And we protect it, we

employ armed guards to make sure the trees are not stolen or burned. When

we enter a forest area, we do so with heavy machinery, and then we bring out

that one selected tree. Well, of course you understand that scares off the

animals that live there; but when we're gone, they'll just come back. I can

show you aerial photos showing that the areas we manage remain green. Just

compare that with other forests, such as national nature reserves or private

properties, they are gone after a few years. They are gone!!"

“Interesting, I learn something new every day.”

You can hear from Dino's voice that the information gets too overwhelming

for him here. You enter the forest with heavy machines, carefully maneuver

around all the trees and shrubs, chase away all the animals, cut down one

tree, drive out of the forest, pay the guards and the driver in cash, instruct all

animals to move back in. You drive to the car wash, get your machines

cleaned, checked and repaired (if necessary), and then drive to the gas station

a hundred and fifty kilometers further along the dirtroad to refill all your

machines for the next trip. Then to the sawmill, and finally at home, you park

everything in your six by three-meter garage. In the meantime, you instruct

someone to select one special tree per hectare for tomorrow's activities.

Interesting business model!! Here a successful businessman speaks.

Dino quickly decides to change the subject:

“The Ark of Noah foundation; I would like to go into a little more detail on

the project. Can you give me a short - thirty seconds - polaroid of what that

is?”

“The Ark of Noah foundation is a foundation here in California and we

support and finance the exploitation of a real replica of the original Ark, built

in the Netherlands by my brother in Christ Johan Huibers. He planned to

build this Ark and believes in the potential to show it to the world now. It is a


full-size replica, one hundred and thirty meters long; it's huge; half the size of

a football field!”

"Wow"

"Yes, and because Johan knows that I regularly travel to Brazil, to protect the

rainforest, he called me and said:" say Herald, I know that you're going to

Brazil all the time, can't you take the Ark with you?" Well… if a good brother

asks you to do something, you of course say yes. So, I'm doing my best to

bring the Ark to Brazil, and from there we want to sail the seven seas. “

"Okay, and that's the project I read about, it's coming from the Netherlands to

Brazil, and you're raising money for that now?"

“Yes, and that's only the first step, after this we want to go to all those other

countries: Argentina, Columbia, the Caribbean, maybe even Cuba, Puerto

Rico. And then we will come to the west coast of the United States.”

“Yeah, wow, interesting… Okay let's leave it at that for what you are now.

What is your greatest weakness as a Christian?”

“Well, that's actually because I've spent too long in business life. You start

thinking about every situation: how should I respond, how can I solve it, how

can I mediate, how can I organize it? And you always start with “I”. I really

must be careful not to fall into that trap: I have to start every day, every day

with God. God, how do you want me to solve this problem? You just have to

ask God! How do you want me to fix this? Give me a clue."

It's really getting too much for Dino now. He can't help himself. He has to put

forward something of equal importance to match the greatness of his guest:

“Oh, you know, you say that to me as if you were correcting me. And, you

know, I already do that every day in my life. For example, when I started this

podcast, I tried really hard not to treat it like a business. And so, I haven't

stressed; always trusted that God would show me which direction it should

move. And it eventually turned out to be a success. We have 150,000

downloads now, and it's still growing around the world. It's wonderful to

admit that I haven't actually done anything at all, and that's so cool to say,

huh-huh.


Perhaps on the other hand, you can also tell me what your greatest strength is

as a Christian?”

“I think it is my “bliss”. I am so happy to be safe in the arms of my Lord and

Savior Jesus Christ. So much strength and happiness that I no longer

experience any obstacles. I am definitely an optimist, and it makes me so

happy to do something that really shows the way of God, and that is Noah's

Ark. “

“And if I ask you now if you have ever experienced dark times in your life? I

mean, for those of you who can't see him, he's tall, he looks good, and he lives

in Malibu, so he has a tan, a full head of hair, and he looks pretty happy. It

might be a tough question because, from the outside, everything is fantastic.”

“Well, the biggest challenge in my life was that I once managed a company as

an asset manager. We also had an insurance department. I made a noticeably

big deal. So big that I thanked God and said: this is incredible! It was the

largest life insurance deal ever in Germany. The commission on that

transaction would make me more than well off. So, I was very happy. At the

same time - without me knowing - the life insurance company's senior

management was cheating. They manipulated the rates and thus stole money

from the contracts I concluded. They transferred money from those

transactions to offshore companies. Along several channels that money ended

up in a bank in the city where I lived. And people then came to collect the

money in suitcases, in cash. When this came out, and it was found out that

this was from the insurance group, they started to follow the trail. I practically

lived across from that bank, and then it became clear that I was the broker for

those deals. I structured them, I brought in the customers, I brought in the

insurance company…. Then the authorities immediately thought, “Oh, that

must be Herald Janssen, who lives across the street here. He must have

collected that money”. And I was prosecuted. But I knew nothing about it,

and it took me several sessions to defend myself. And during that defense, I

had to come up with money for the lawyers. And because those deals

amounted to tens of millions of dollars, those bills were pretty hefty. In

addition, suing an insurance company is difficult. They just hire a full bus of

lawyers, and I could barely afford one lawyer because all my accounts had

been looted by the authorities, and blocked.”


Dino now wipes the sweat from his forehead: "Wow, wow ..."

"My lawyer said," We're going in shoulder to shoulder for the final fight, but

we have to make a deposit. And I said Okay, but how much will it cost this

time? And he said we had to pay another million in advance. But I had

already used up all my money. So he said, "Well then you better look for that

money, otherwise you will lose. "

And then you would go to jail?

“Well, no, prison wasn't really an issue at the time anymore, because they

found signatures and they didn't match mine. So, in that regard, they didn't

come after me anymore, but they still believed I was the evil genius behind it

all. My lawyer said he would call me on Wednesday evening, and if I didn't

have the money then we would have to cancel the hearing.”

"Wow, wow, wow ..."

“So I drove through Switzerland; I lived close to the border. And Switzerland

has some fantastic tunnels. And I was driving. I looked at the clock, and I

thought, who else can I call? Who can I approach, to - say - scrape together

some six hundred thousand euros? So I called acquaintances and family,

friends. I even went to the pawn shop, I tried absolutely everything, but I

didn't get more than six hundred and fifty thousand dollars. But I needed a

million. And I knew the lawyer was going to call. I just entered a dark tunnel.

Not only with my car, you know, but also mentally, because I thought, I can't

find that money ... I need that money, otherwise I'll lose the lawsuit and all

people will think I'm a crook. So I feared my reputation and everything. And I

went into that tunnel. But at the end of that tunnel, the sky lit up, and in

Switzerland you have those lower mountain peaks on which they build

chapels, and they light up at night. So you look up and you see the tunnel and

you see the moon behind it. It's a beautiful sight. I looked up, and I saw that

chapel up there on that mountaintop, brightly lit, with the moon behind it,

and then I wondered why I was looking down in misery. Why not look at the

sky? There is God, so why don't you ask him? And I thought, Okay, then I'll

pray. Please help me, I'm in that situation, I don't know what to do. I need


those three hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and that lawyer is going to

call me to pay the advance.”

"Yeah."

“Please help me… One second later the phone rings. My lawyer on the phone.

I was nervous, my heart was pounding like crazy; my God couldn't you have

given me some more time ???”

"Wow, hihihi"

Herald's voice now rises a quarter note step by step, and the words follow

each other in an ever-accelerating, yes even rousing pace. Herald takes us to a

breathtaking apotheosis.

My lawyer says, "Okay, how much did you get together?" My brain is racing:

God couldn't you have given me a little more time? I am waiting for an

answer.”

"Hey, hihi"

"I say," I only have six fifty, can you give me a little more time, I don't know

where to get it, I don't know what to do." And he replies: “Six fifty is a nice

number, I happen to have three fifty in my bank account myself. Let's transfer

all the money right away in the morning. We're gonna win this together.”

I was totally baffled, while the whole world is chasing me, and my family

thinks I’m a crook, God answers my prayers. We won the lawsuit, I got all my

money back, and was able to reinvest it in my company.”

“Ow wow, what a story; how long did that whole thing last?”

“It started in or about 2001, and it lasted - I believe - until 2012. Eleven years

of legal battles”. And all this time I have felt confident. In the end - you know

- I even had to leave my car in the garage because I couldn't afford the gas

anymore. So I took my Dutch bicycle from the garage and cycled to work!!!

And the people in the street waved "hey Herald", in I waved back. And


people thought, “How is it possible? That guy must be on hashish or

marihuana… How is that possible? He is still happy.”

But you know, even with all that misery, I could still show that my happiness

did not depend on wealth or security. It is built on Jesus Christ for he is my

savior.”

Dino asks Herald who actually was leading him at the time: was it God or the

lawyer? There is some back and forth philosophizing about this question.

Herald finally concludes that he has always remained close to God.

Dino asks whether all of this has caused tensions in Herald's marriage. Herald

says his wife has always stood by him, but it has been difficult at times, and

she has also wondered if he could finally start something that wouldn't get

him into trouble.

Herald says that his wife was born a Catholic, but he had the pleasure of

baptizing her at a later age, together with his daughter. This suggests that we

should indeed place Herald in Baptist circles.

Dino changes the subject; he wants to know more about the ship.

“That ship, Herald, I saw it on Facebook, and I'd like to advise my listeners:

google it, I'm sure you'll find it... Tell me about it Herald, tell me about this

monstrous ship and how it came about?”

“Yes, okay. The ark was built by Johan Huibers, a carpenter, in the

Netherlands. He got the idea after seeing how the Netherlands had been

flooded during a large-scale disaster in 1953. He read books about it to his

children. You should know, almost all of them live below sea level there, so

it's not that hard to imagine. And he knew, of course, that Noah had built an

Ark for God. It then took him about thirteen years before he had the means to

build an Ark himself. That was in 2005. And this first Ark was a success in the

Netherlands, many people came by to admire it, and he made quite a bit of

money. He was blessed! But this Ark was only half the size of the real Ark,

and Johan wanted to build a full-size Ark.

In 2008 someone came along and said: “Johan, I want to buy your Ark. I want

to sail it all over Europe and show it to the people”. Johan had to think about

it for a while, but then suddenly someone else came and said: "Johan, I will


give you all the wood you need for a life-size Ark, as a present." Now that

was already something, but with that the Ark was not there yet. Then

someone came and said: "Hey Johan, I can get a number of steel pontoons for

a bargain price, on those your ship can float in shallow water". And then the

bank called, and it said: "Hey Johan, I just had a look at your account here,

and there's two million euros on it, I know a couple of nice ways to invest that

money." But Johan thought: “Why invest? I'm going to build a full-size Ark;

it's possible!!"

Dino has to admit that this is yet another wonderful sequence of events, and

so wants to know how it goes on.

"So he built the Ark. It took about four years. When it was finished, it had a

few visitors, but less than expected. The Netherlands is small, there are not so

many Christians anymore, and most of them had already gone to see the first

boat. Johan briefly played around with the idea of sailing the ship to London

for the Olympic Games, but the time was too short, he had to think of

something else.

And he knew me, and I told him about my business, that we were involved in

ecological forestry in the Amazons. So he called me and said, "Hey Herald,

can we maybe sail the Ark to Brazil?" And I lived here in Malibu, had some

contacts in the region, people from the Harvest Crusades. I asked them if we

could do something together. I then went to Europe, my daughter graduated,

and from there I started to tackle the project. I was talking here with a good

brother and friend of mine, and I asked him to help me. He wanted to, and he

built an organization with an appropriate support structure to finance the

Ark's journey to Brazil. We have set up a foundation to receive donations,

with tax deduction facilities for people who contributed to the good cause.

The foundation came about through a donation from a lady in the San Diego

area and her son. And so we started raising money to bring the Ark to Brazil,

then Latin and Central America and finally the United States.”

“So interesting, so interesting… So that boat is now ready, and now it's going

to sail? Float? Can the thing move?”

“Not by itself, but yes, it can float. It has already visited thirteen places in the

Netherlands but is built to sail in shallow water. It cannot just cross the open


ocean. It would be sloppy to read in the newspaper that the Ark sank halfway

through the trip to Brazil, wouldn't it?”

"Hehhehheh"

“We are going to transport it on a huge barge; similar to the ones with which

they transport submarines. And then we'll sail to the other side with an oceanworthy

towboat. It is actually an exhibition and training center, not intended

for sailing on the open sea.”

Herald tells a few things about what visitors can expect to see on the Ark, and

how things will be financed. Donors can contribute one mile of the trip or

purchase a twenty-five-dollar ticket. Of this money, one child or a family from

the slums in Brazil will be invited to visit the Ark. The boat will show Noah's

story, but also animals, and modern technology like virtual reality, holograms

and so on.

"Okay Herald, and can you tell me what it ultimately costed to build that

Ark?"

“Material: three and a half million, and Johan built it himself, with a group of

volunteers: some women, some drug addicts, an unemployed butcher. He

built it, you know, with a hodgepodge of people, like the apostles of Jesus!

And they did! Together! It took them four and a half years”.

"Of course; awesome! Is there anything else you'd like to say, you'd like to let

our listeners know?"

“Yes, we aim to seek cooperation with large companies to strengthen their

name and talk to institutions about possible bridging financing. And if we are

going to make a profit, we are not going to sit on that money, we are going to

reinvest it. Brazil is a big country, you know, it has two hundred million

inhabitants. We want to build small replicas of the Ark in all those poor slums

there in Brazil, and these will be community buildings under the name “Ark

of hope center”. In it we will accommodate nursing, childcare, manual labor

centers where people can learn, a small theater and so on. And one day those

centers will then be able to serve as places of worship.”


“Yes, I was just about to say that, that really seems like such a cool place to go.

Well, Herald Janssen of the Arch of Noah foundation, thank you again for

coming to the studio, and I wish you the best of luck! ”

What a man, that Herald. He does indeed seem affiliated with the Baptist

community in Sittard. I find a video of Herald with a Dutch pastor, walking

in the snowy mountains of Liechtenstein. The pastor shows it during a mass

in the city of Sittard.

Moreover Herald is also a creationist, just like his brother in faith Johan

Huibers. Creationists believe that Genesis is a historical record of creation.

They reject the theory of evolution.

Once a fish, always a fish. The appalling thought of a fish growing legs,

crawling onto the bank, starting to walk upright, and then evolving from ape

to human is unbearable to a creationist.

I stroll around the rainforests of Liberia and Brazil virtually. Nine-hundredthousand

hectares is quite a lot, isn't it? I read that one and a quarter million

hectares of concessions have been granted in Liberia over the last ten years,

which is about one-sixth of the total surface of the country. Ninety percent of

that would be illegal; there has been tampering with the conclusion of the

agreements. Herald’s company or Herald itself is not mentioned anywhere.

Must be a mistake; when I think back of the interview and the things I've

read, he should control a large portion of the concessions in Liberia's

rainforest.

I continue my search and find a certain “Ralph S”. Ralph is Chief Operating

Officer at Natural Resources Development, responsible for finance and

human resources at NRD's four Liberian companies: International

Consultants Capital, Geblo logging, Liberia Wood Industries and RDC.

These Liberian toys of Herald and his people do indeed own a large portion

of the logging concessions in the Liberian rainforest, in excess of 400,000

hectares in total. In addition, they are indirectly linked to another major

concessionaire in Liberia. Together they control almost the entire Liberian

rainforest.


And everything is going well there, as we all know. All thanks to Herald, his

buddies and his little machines.

His resume shows some interesting details: Ralph has a degree in biblical

studies and a doctorate in “divinity”. Diplomas earned from the “Moody

Bible Institute”. And he assists a local African Baptist community with their

Church program. These are important recommendations for working with

Herald, as we know.

And Ralph also worked for a while - eleven months or so - as Chief of

Operations at the Ark Foundation in the Netherlands. There his task was to

prepare and execute the relocation of a Biblical-sized Noah's Ark to Brazil. So

real buddies, Ralph and Herald. And Johan Huibers as well, of course.

And then the rainforest in Brazil. I read stories about illegality and land

grabbing, or “Grilagem”, as they say in Brazil. Logging companies, driving

indigenous peoples away from their ancestor’s land. And all this for

hardwood, soy production, biodiesel, palm oil and so on.

Good thing someone like Herald hangs around in these regions!

Someone who will single-handedly stop these practices and save the

rainforest for posterity.

Natural resources development already has a branch in Brazil for this

purpose. It is headed by one Michael Stadie, German of origin. He lives in Itu.

NRD Brazil owns the rights to the land around the “Fazenda Boa Fé”, totaling

four hundred and thirty-four thousand hectares.

I come across a whole series of companies called “Genesis”. In Hungary,

Spain, Singapore, America, Liechtenstein, and lovely St Vincent &

Grenadines, all affiliated with Herald Janssen.

Genesis… wasn't it Thomas who offered four hundred thirty-four thousand

hectares as collateral to a company called “Genesis”? I scan once more

through the press release I came across earlier, and indeed, that’s the way it

is...

Okay then… So I have Genesis, a whole bunch of companies involving Herald

Janssen, and Thomas's company “Vital Source” that seems to be injecting

sixty-six-million dollars into it. And all this by bringing in a piece of land of


four hundred and thirty-four thousand hectares - more than four billion

square meters - which he does not own, and for which no concessions have

been issued by the Brazilian authorities. Bizarre!

And to top it all off, those four hundred thirty-four thousand hectares appear

to belong to Herald Janssen's “Natural Resources Development”, and not to

Thomas's “Vital Source”.

So the “NRD - Herald” gives away sixty-six million bucks as a gift to the

“Genesis - Herald”?

And together they pretend that Vital Source has made that contribution.

Why???

I run my eye over the summary of the chamber of commerce once more. It

strikes me that MJM asset management is not on it ...

Where has MJM asset management gone? Wasn't that the company in which

Herald started his business? I click through a bit and find out that the name

was changed early 2007 to the “Genesis Management Consulting

Establishment”. Genesis again…

“International Penta Financial Services Aktiengesellschaft” it also says.

I can't find much about that company on the internet, but there's one link that

arouses my interest:

“Helix Biopharma Responds to Dissident Proxy Circular ...

Https://www.biospace.com ›article› releases ›helix-bio ...

Jan 10, 2007 - As you may know, Mr. Herald Janssen of International Penta

Financial Services AG proposed a dissident executive for election to the Board of

Helix Biopharma.”

In a response to this publication, Janssen states that the dropped criminal

investigation into his involvement in the insurance fraud was solely about the


commission, and that he never earned 32 million from his intervention because the

claim thereto lapsed due to the cancellation of the policy.

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