La Conquista is a very ancient test of strength game, originating in South and Central America as part of a larger system of rituals relating to Aztec fertility rites. The modern variant of the game, enjoying a resurgence of popularity in resort centers in the post war period, has changed little from its original antecedents. A strip of beach one hundred yards by 15 yards is marked off, and the contestants take their positions at the halfway mark. The goal is for one woman to push, pull, or carry her opponent the length of the "court' and deposit her completely over the end line. The only caveat is that forward progression MUST be accompanied by contact at all times, and there is no punching, kicking, or any other injurious practice allowed. There is no time limit, and the action is only interrupted if the contestants fall out of bounds.

In the 1960s, the so called "jet set' adopted La Conquista as their official game, and centers such as Rio De Janeiro, Montevideo, Acapulco, and so on became infamous for private matches between high profile members of that exclusive community. Celebrities are known to have participated quite frequently as the "sex kitten' era was in full swing, and Svengalis like Roger Vadim, Helio Morales, Hugh Hefner, and others orchestrated lavish private parties around the events. One such encounter between Raquel Welch and Ursula Andress in the late sixties was documented by Winston Pen, author of Secret Lives, and is excerpted below. Pen, an Andy Warhol like observer of the rich and famous, kept a diary of the underground world of female competition as he witnessed it. Secret Lives is a fascinating study not only of elite group dynamics, but an intriguing look at the selectivity of the mainstream press, and the inherent moralistic repression of western media since the forties.

When it was announced through the grapevine that Raquel Welch intended to contest La Conquista with Ursula Andress in the summer of 1967 at Rio - it was considered the highlight of the summer season, and everyone who had any intention of being anyone would take all pains to be there. Raquel, as was typical of the American stars, was an accomplished boxer and apartment wrestler - but this was an altogether different thing entirely. There were not too many among us who thought that she could possibly win - but no one could miss the attempt. Ms. Welch, and Ms. Andress were undoubtedly the most impressive young starlets of the time, and the thought of them struggling against one another beneath the hot Rio sun was, to say the least, a maddening proposition.

Facing one another on the sand, (at high noon, as was the custom; the point at which the blazing sun was at its fiercest) I was struck at how small Raquel looked compared to Ursula. Although similar in height - Raquel's immortal curves and proportions cast the illusion of a much bigger woman - next to Ursula, she seemed much more slender through the limbs and waist. Although both women were powerful looking creatures, with broad shoulders, deep chests and slim hips - it was hard to see how Raquel could possibly compete in a contest that so favoured the larger, stronger woman. Raquel had let her natural hair grow out, and was very dark skinned in a black, low slung bikini connected at the sides and between the breast cups with gold loops. Ursula's skin was a lighter shade of gold, and she wore the white bra style bikini she had made famous in Dr. No. Both women had been rubbed down with special oils to prevent burning on the sand, and their hair was slick and wet upon their necks and shoulders. They stood staring at one another for several moments, each quivering in anticipation of contact, and neither seemed the least bit intimidated. At the signal from the attendant, the girls pushed into one another without hesitation.

Raquel was very much quicker than Ursula, and she got low on the blonde, reaching for the girl's hips and swinging Ursula to the sand rugby style. The girls stood, smacking at their thighs and bellies to dislodge sand, then came together again, and again, Raquel was able to take advantage before Ursula could use her strength. The brunette wrapped her arms around Ursula's waist, and spun to the sand again, rolling over and over with Ursula in her arms to chew up several feet of turf. As they separated, Raquel had a wild expression on her face, nostrils flaring, and dark hair in her eyes and mouth made her look quite animalistic on her hands and knees. Ursula on her haunches was much more composed, the classic stoic nordic, and she sat on her ankles with hands on her knees, analyzing the situation. As the girls came together again, their slick torsos welded together from the hip to the arm pit, and their legs churned at the sand beneath them. Falling to their sides, Raquel's advance had been halted, and the girls pushed and struggled against one another to the good fortune of neither.

Ursula had a good ten yards to win back, and she began to take the offensive as Raquel dug in. On her haunches, Raquel folded over her knees and put her arms straight out, inviting Ursula to push against her hip or sides. At first, the blonde had little success, plowing up sand behind her as her legs bicycled furiously to no avail. Once she got a hand in behind Raquel's knee, however, and reaching in between Raquel's legs to lock up, Ursula was able through tremendous effort to pull Raquel out of her position, and sprawl her backwards a couple of feet by pushing her shoulder into Raquel's belly. Ms. Welch was dogged in resistance, giving up ground with a great gnashing of teeth and flashing of eyes, and she was costing Ursula tremendously in terms of energy. She soon went to a starfish posture on her belly, forcing Ursula to once again push with little effect against her shoulders or hips. After fifteen minutes, Ursula had only regained half of her lost territory, and Raquel seemed the fresher fighter.

Ursula then spent some time simply trying to twist Raquel onto her back. Several minutes passed as the girls pushed and squirmed, each trying to deny the other a very simple objective. In the end, Ursula turned Raquel's torso, and locked her arms under the brunette's arms and around her ribs. Ursula lay atop Raquel, resting her blonde head upon the brunette's stomach, while her own belly lay atop Raquel's face and her arms crushed in around the American's lungs. Ursula's new plan was clearly evident, as the hot air, the weight of the Scandinavian, the sweat, the burning sand, and the crushing grip all began to wear on the smaller woman. As there is no time limit in La Conquista, Ursula was content to simply lay atop her opponent, making a Y with her legs in the sand behind her to prevent any reversal from Raquel. I should imagine 10 or more minutes passed in this way, with the only movement from Raquel being that of her arms feebly pushing or gripping around the blondes upper back.

When Ursula rose from the steaming body beneath her, one could see the skin sticking together upon separation like an air tight seal. She sat back on her haunches, and pulled up on Raquel's shoulders to push her to a seated position in front of the blonde. Raquel's face was pale, and she was blubbering, suffering terribly from the elements and the strength of her opponent. Ursula pulled Raquel's slender arms back between her own, and forced the girl forward over her legs, then rolled Raquel another couple of feet up the beach with her arms trapped behind her. When one of Raquel's arms slipped free, Ursula reached around her torso from behind and tried unsuccessfully to pull the brunette to her feet. Undaunted, Ursula was content to roll Raquel, resting at intervals, then heaving with the body beneath her for another revolution. Soon she had passed the center line and gone into Raquel's territory. From then on, it was one long, agonizing retreat for Raquel, inch, by sweaty inch, down the length of the Brazilian beach.

La Conquista is a cruel game in many respects, although not as brutal as it's boxing or wrestling counterparts. First, there is no surrender - the only way for the game to end is by depositing one opponent in her end zone. I have seen women lay upon the sand for half an hour, side by side, recovering in order to continue the game. There is no time limit - no way to escape either the game or your opponent. There is no knockout punch, or knee to the crotch to end things swiftly and suddenly. There is only the better woman. There can be no doubt at the end of La Conquista as to whom the superior creature may be, which is perhaps why the ancient Brazilians used it as a form of mate selection. And perhaps most cruelly of all - there is a sense of inevitability to the game, a lack of suspense once one woman has conquered enough territory to make any comeback all but impossible. The participants know, the spectators know, who will win; what had begun as a drama about winning becomes at some point a drama about losing. It is the awful, grinding defeat that becomes the substance of the matter - and so it became for Raquel Welch in her contest against Ursula Andress.

Raquel's face was so intense in it's sadness, so desperate, as she began her long, bitter retreat across the sand. You could see it in Ursula's eyes, the concentration, the eager fire of victory, but she continued to have to work. All of Welch's considerable pride was on the line, and she could not simply yield - she strained and pushed against the blonde's body with all her might. Ursula had mastered the technique of rolling her opponent, and she continually wrapped Raquel up about the knee, waist or chest and tortuously twisted her down the beach. When Raquel stood and tried to shoulder block Ursula back, it was disastrous as she could not match the leg drive of the athletic blonde. The last few yards of beach were fought out on the ground, as Raquel could only hope that Ursula would exhaust herself and leave herself exposed to the counter attack.

Ursula recognized the danger of burn out and was patient. She never over-exerted herself, was careful to rest atop Raquel whenever possible, and even lured Raquel into attacking at times to sap precious energy from the brunette. At the finish line, Raquel on her hands and knees, met Ursula shoulder to shoulder and was bulled over onto her back. Ursula pulled Raquel's trembling legs over her head and pushed the brunette over in an agonizingly slow somersault. With Raquel breathless, her eyes dim and blinking in exhaustion, lying on her belly, legs halfway over the finish line behind her, Ursula put her shoulder into Raquel's side and pushed furiously with her legs to drive Ms. Welch over the line. Raquel sobbed piteously, too exhausted to stand as Ursula collapsed onto her back, her head still in the nook between Raquel's sweet hip and lower ribcage, fists in the air as she crowed with exultation at the victory. We too, in the audience were exhausted, and I distinctly remember thinking that Raquel simply would not be the same woman after this defeat. In retrospect-

Although no corroborating evidence has ever been found to support that this match ever took place, neither woman has confirmed or denied it's occurrence, and when approached for comment, neither has ever been forthcoming. While the mainstream press continues to be coy about the suggestion of confrontations within the celebrity community, we have ample circumstantial evidence to support Winston Pen's account. Hotel registration and credit card records confirm that Welch and Andress were both in Rio at the time indicated, and that Raquel left the day after the match supposedly took place. It was not to be the last time these unearthly beauties would lock up however, and many more descriptions of La Conquista bouts, arm wrestling bouts, leg wrestling and bearhugging contests can be found in Pen's book and personal correspondence. All in all, it is estimated that Raquel Welch alone participated in over 100 competitions, sponsored in the main by members of the international jet set and fought out in venues on three continents. In addition to Raquel and Ursula, Pen recounts contests involving Ann Margaret, Barbara Eden, Bettie Page, Brigitte Bardot, Claudia Cardinale, and Lucianna Perzotti, to mention but a few.

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