I recently visited Lanzarote in the Canary Islands and whenever I take a break from my usual routine, I return inspired by the thoughts I’ve entertained in the meantime.
When I was very little I remember my neighbours visiting the Canary Islands and bringing me back a cool miniature backpack-style purse.
Obviously my wild imagination was triggered into seeing loads of canaries living on these islands – well, I actually imagined a giant neon-yellow and green budgie living there.
So when I booked a holiday in the Canaries, I googled where the name of the Micronesian Islands originated from to finally satisfy this life long assumption of mine.
What’s In A Name?
According to Ambassador Cruise Line:
“The name comes from the Latin word for dog, canaria, and was given by the first Europeans to arrive here. The story goes that when they landed ashore, they were met with large dogs on the island of Gran Canaria.”
Something about this story just doesn’t sit right with me. The Canary Islands are formed above tectonic plates. They’re volcanic and the land is desolate with not much fertility to the soil – it would be hard for life to thrive there without some kind of creative adaptation, like the volcanic vinyards which exist in Lanzarote.
It was like visiting Mars, the landscape didn’t look too dissimilar to that at the foot of Olympus Mons.
Lost In Translation
How could wild dogs could survive there? Perhaps they could catch birds and maybe fish – but what else would there be for them to eat?
I think sometimes stories – which have over time got lost in translation – evolve into literal accounts of something far more symbolic.
On my first night in Lanzarote, the night sky took my breath away, I was truly in awe of the heavens above me. In particular I saw Orion moving over, and nearby, Sirius just below and in alignment with Orion’s belt.
It really amazed me to see the Dog Star (Sirius) so high in the sky so early in the year (I visited in late March) as he usually dips below the horizon (from the UK’s perspective) in the Winter months, along with Orion, moving up in the Summer time.
Obviously I was still in the Northern hemisphere, but much closer to the equator.
A Sirius Marvel To Behold
Being farther South than usual I was aware Sirius – in the constellation of Canis Major – was far higher in the night sky. In fact, he took on a whole new role in the stage of stars while I was in Lanzarote.
It got me thinking: what if the Spanish who conquered and claimed the Micronesian islands were actually referring to an astronomical sighting of the Big celestial dog?
What if they were referring to Canis Majoris? The constellation which is home to not only some of the largest stars in our night sky, but also the brightest: Sirius?
Flooding Of The Nile
It is well documented that the Ancient Egyptians used to observe Sirius and watch his rise as the marker for the flooding of the Nile and thus the fertilising of land around the river – a blessing for desert dwellers.
According to Wikipedia:
“Owing to the flood’s own irregularity, the extreme precision of the star’s return made it important to the ancient Egyptians, who worshipped it as the goddess Sopdet, guarantor of the fertility of their land.”
If you’re familiar with Graham Hancock‘s work or have seen his Ancient Apocalypse series on Netflix, you’ll recognise his reference to Sirius as the focal point for many temples built around the globe, the purpose of which is unknown to mainstream archeology, and which predate our historical records.
If ancient civilisations recognise and reference the night sky—particularly Sirius—why wouldn’t they name Gran Canaria and her subsidiary islands in honour of this annual celestial spectacular? For those living across North-Africa, this was something you could set your watch to (though I’m not sure the ancient Egyptians actually wore timepieces on their wrists back then).
Wouldn’t flooding be of great importance to island dwellers and those in baron landscapes hoping for life to flourish?
Budgies, Canaries, Or Dogs, For Real?
Perhaps yet again, my imagination is running away with me, and it’s just an island that once was full of big wild dogs (or seals).
Perhaps there was a giant neon-yellow and green budgie masquerading as a canary.
Anything is possible in this world of cancel culture, patched-up history and fake news.