In honour of Earth Day, I will start this ball rolling and post a story from my South America trip: Adventure in the Amazon…
The sky was growing dark and our low wooden canoe was filling quickly with rainwater. Our guide yelled at us over the thunder and the buzz created by millions of rain drops hitting the surface of the tropical river.
“I guess we’ll have to postpone the piranha fishing. I’m going to try to find shelter. Maybe we can wait this storm out!”
We nodded and continued to bail the quickly rising water with broken plastic jugs. I peered through the walls of rain, trying to see the jungle’s edge. Just a few minutes earlier we had been under a partly cloudy sky, motoring slowly along a narrower section of river, watching for birds, and scanning the brown surface for any hint of pink dolphins. The weather can change pretty quickly here in the Amazon. And this is the dry season.
Heading upriver into the storm
My boyfriend and I had taken a local cargo/passenger boat down the Amazon River from Leticia, Colombia to Manaus, the city at the heart of Brazil’s Amazon jungle. It had been a good trip, relaxing with great people-watching opportunities, but the Amazon River is so wide at that point that we did not see much of the jungle. That’s why we signed up for this three day jungle trek which promised wildlife viewing, jungle hikes, camping in the rainforest, and piranha fishing.
That morning we had met our guide, a solid Brazilian man, as well as the only other member of our little trek team, a fellow Canadian from Quebec. After a crazed taxi ride that careened through the city to one of the ports, we had boarded a water taxi. The crowded boat skimmed across the meeting of the waters, where the dark Rio Negro kisses the lighter Rio Solimoes to form the Amazon proper. On the far side, we took a small bus down rural roads and my ill stomach battled the potholes. It figures I would get sick during the most-anticipated portion of our four month journey through South America – I’d wanted to visit the Amazon jungle since I was a kid.
I was able to calm my stomach enough to thoroughly enjoy the motor boat trip up the Mamori River to our jungle lodge. We had seen many birds and crocodiles in the blazing sun on the way there, so the afternoon had looked promising as we headed out in our little canoe to fish for piranhas. However, the jungle gods had another plan…
The wind and rain battered our boat, as the guide motored toward a floating shelter. Finally, we climbed out of the canoe and into the relative protection of the wooden storage hut. The rain came in sideways, trying to reach our already dripping bodies; we were never so grateful for the heat of the Amazon.
As we stood there, peering out at the storm and marveling at its tenacity, a couple of local fishermen pulled up to bring in their catch. They seemed right at home in the rain, although they did need to tip the water out of their canoe. They went about de-scaling a large fish, and the younger fisherman, a boy, held up the huge shiny scales for us to see.
Raimundo, our guide, decided this was as good a place as any to fish, since the storm wasn’t letting up. He got us set up with string on sticks, and bait on rusty hooks, then demonstrated how very easy it was to catch a fish here. We dipped the string in the dark water, and in a matter of minutes had a piranha or catfish – both fairly small, but interesting-looking fish. In the dry season, the fish jump a lot, and one even landed in our boat. Our guide carefully unhooked the catfish and threw them back, but kept the piranhas.
“They’re good in soup,” he explained with a smile.
One of our piranhas - not so fierce looking is it?
An hour later the rain finally petered out, and we hopped into the wet canoe to head back to lodge. The sun was setting, and the air was filled with that sweet after-rain scent, mixed with earthy smells emanating from the hot, steaming jungle. We were silent as the canoe drifted across the water; the calm after the storm. Then a quiet splash broke the reverie, and our guide announced that a pink dolphin had surfaced. Immediately, we scanned the river, tensely watching and waiting for the next pink dolphin. The Quebecer caught sight of one and yelled, but all we saw were the ripples left behind. Then, I witnessed one of these otherworldly creatures rise out of the water, and my mouth fell open as I pointed excitedly. The Amazon River dolphins are not like the sleek, pretty grey dolphins of the sea; they are fantastical beasts with knobby backs the color of dull sunsets. The dolphins rise silently out of the water like submarines, and then sink quickly back down to disappear in the depths of the muddy river. Watching for them is quite the treasure hunt, and getting pictures is even harder.
The Amazon River Dolphin is the largest of the freshwater dolphins, and can be found throughout north and central South America. Only four other species of freshwater dolphins exist in the world, and all are endangered due to hunting, river pollution and entanglement in fish nets. Dolphins in China’s Yangtze River are actually said to be extinct now. Fortunately, the Amazon’s dolphins are faring a bit better, though they are still threatened by human pressures. Over our three days in the jungle we saw many more pink dolphins, and I never tired of the sight. I could have stayed in the canoe all day, silently drifting, and watching for those muddy pink backs to break the surface.
We left the deep spot that the dolphins liked, and continued back toward the jungle lodge, the sudden excitement calmed by the serenity of the narrow river at dusk. It grew dark very quickly, and our guide decided to take us caiman (crocodile) hunting. Raimundo cut the engine and we drifted silently toward the bank where he spotted glowing eyes. Suddenly, his hand darted into the water and came back out with a young caiman. It was about half a meter long, but its glinting eyes and rows of pointy teeth still produced a chill.
Our guide holds a young caiman
Raimundo showed us the small reptile’s double eye lids – the bottom one is transparent and used for cleaning the eye and protecting it from underwater abrasion. Then he pointed out characteristics of jaws and teeth, ideal for snatching prey from the water. The little caiman stayed still through all of this: either too terrified to move, or surrendering to survival instinct in the hands of a much bigger creature. I was intrigued to see the animal up close, but anxious for it to be freed again. Eric held it first, though, and I touched its bony back and snapped a few pictures. Then Raimundo dropped it, unceremoniously, back into the dark water and it was gone. As the motor started again and we headed downriver, I wondered how many larger crocodiles were out there, lurking in the dark, only their eyes and snout visible above the water.
Soon we were safe within the light and walls of our jungle lodge, eating a feast of fish and swapping stories with the other groups sharing the shelter. Some had seen sloths and monkeys; others had been hiking through the jungle depths. We relaxed in the hammocks that night, anticipating the next adventures that the jungle gods might throw our way.
