Saturday, October 4, 2014

Amazing Amazon




We could have done it. Yes!  We could have eased Let's Dance from her comfortable Ashley River slip, scooted across Charleston Harbor and up Shem Creek between the idle shrimp boats to the fuel dock.  With topped off fuel tanks, we could have motored out past Fort Sumpter into the Atlantic Ocean for the first leg of the journey.  We could have navigated close to shore to minimize the effect of the north-rushing Gulf Stream as we tackled the first short haul from Charleston down to Key West.  Five hundred and fifty nautical miles.  Watches of four hours on, four hours off, 24/7.  We could have made landfall in Florida in a mere six days.

Slightly bleary-eyed, and a trifle cranky, we could have said good-bye to Key West and looped around the west side of Cuba, thereby avoiding the tricky Windward Passage and Guantanamo Bay to the east.  We could have waved at Grand Cayman before reaching the relative safety of Central American waters.  On down past Belize, Honduras and Nicaragua.  By now, our stores could be low and we could be eating mostly canned vegetables with our freshly caught fish.  We could have flown past the Panama Canal and bounced off the coast of Colombia.  Oops!  Bad choice.  So, we could stop for a short while on the little Dutch island of Curacao where we could sip chocolate and local liqueurs.  Another 1500 nautical miles under our collective belts.

From Curacao we could have set our sights beyond Venezuela to the shores of Guyana, Surinam and French Guiana for the final push.  Down to eating peanut butter and crackers with a side of canned fruit cocktail.  Four hour watches.  But we could have gone on.  We could have crossed the equator just south of the Brazilian border and, through careful GPS analysis and well-honed chart reading skills, we could have, at last, arrived at the mouth of the mighty Amazon River.  1,650 nautical miles from tiny Curacao and a startling 3,700 nm from Charleston, South Carolina.


We could have done it.  With unlimited calm, following seas; clear blue skies by day and star-filled nights; no mechanical issues; ace navigation skills; electrical systems that purred with content; marital harmony and a surplus of Blue Bell ice cream; we could have done it.  And when we finally arrived at the vast, 25 mile wide mouth of the Amazon, we could have checked and re-checked our charts, scrutinized our logs, recalculated our latitude and longitude, and discovered that the true starting point of our adventure, the city of Iquitos, lay another 1,725 nm upriver near the headwaters of the fabled stream....hmmmm. 

True, we could have done it, but we wanted to get there before high water season in January,
so we left Let's Dance and the Love Me Tender at home and flew commercial to Lima, Peru. 
Ta Da!!

We have traveled to South America, and the northern reaches of the Amazon River, to celebrate my mom's 90th birthday in style.  Some may ask, "Why the Amazon?"  The answer is clearly "Well, she's been every place else!"  Luckily, neither my brother David and his wife Leslye, nor Bill and I, had been to the Amazon either, so it was the perfect location for our little family of five to party.  From Lima we flew two hours north to the jungle-locked town of Iquitos and then boarded a small bus for a fascinating drive through forests dotted with tiny villages to the town of Nauta.   Although it is home to about 10,000 people, Nauta is accessible only by river and the two-lane road from Iquitos on which we traveled.  It was dark when we arrived in the dusty, rutted town and the primary form of lighting coming from the open doors and paneless windows was the glow of television screens.   Children and dogs followed our little bus as we bumped by empty concrete block facades and trash-strewn alleys.  Finally, in a scene reminiscent of an unfolding movie drug deal, a tall, solid wooden gate was pried ajar and our bus slipped inside. 

At last!  We have arrived at the dock.  The real adventure is about to begin as we board our new home away from home and party central -- Aqua Expedition's "Aria."


Daylight reveals a stunning anomaly -- the Aria is a 145 foot long cross between a river barge and a floating pagoda.  There are 32 passengers.  Our party of five (Nita - the birthday girl,  David and Leslye, Bill and I) are the only Americans on the ship.  The 28 person crew includes guides, skiff drivers, pastry chefs, a bartender, masseuse, cruise director, cooks, armed guard, waiters, a paramedic, and naturally, a captain.  We are spoiled from the outset.....and loving it!

On the first morning of the cruise, the passengers are divided into four groups -- 8 to a skiff.  We don life jackets, cover ourselves in bug spray and are off to explore.  Our family is assigned to Julio's skiff and we are joined by a couple from New Zealand.  We take off up the Ucayali River to begin our equatorial adventure.


 Shortly after leaving the mother ship we pull to the shore and pick up a 'ribereno', a young river man with a large machete.  His name is Antonio and he will help spot wildlife and cut swathes through the jungle for us.  Wow!



He is very practiced and soon spots three rare red macaws, a ring kingfisher and a cocoi heron.  Beautiful birds are everywhere!  Social flycatchers, swallow-winged puff birds, red-capped cardinals, bluish-fronted jacamar, and of course the white-eared jacamar....so many!  We pull ashore and climb up the bank (are there snakes?) to get a close look at a trio of owl monkeys that Julio sighted high up in a tree.  The owl monkeys stare back at us solemnly while the little squirrel monkeys perform high canopy acrobatics for our amusement.



After a few hours of intense river scouting we say goodbye to Antonio with our thanks and a couple of bottles of Coke, and head back to the Aria for the first of many gourmet meals.  A quick siesta later and we are back in the skiffs...this time with Neyser guiding us.  Soon we encounter three fishermen in a canopied canoe pulling what appears to be a floating corral.  In fact, these riberenos  are on their way to the market in Iquitos with their live catch of fish gathered into a clever aquatic cage.  They will be eight days (!) on the river towing their fresh goods to market.



The slowly flowing river is wide and the air is incredibly fresh as we continue up the Ucayali River.  Grey river dolphins surface around our skiff and a lone pink dolphin slides by, revealing only his vibrant dorsal fin.  Neyser spots something high in the trees and we slow to take a look.  Sloths!  Three-toed sloths!  




These cousins of anteaters hang about high in the cecropia trees, eating the leaves and buds while enjoying life in the slow lane.  Once a week, approximately, a sloth will make the 45 minute trek down the trunk of the tree to relieve himself at ground level.  (Other curious sloth facts:  their fur grows away from their extremities providing rain protection as they hang from their arms and legs in the rainforest canopy; the females give birth while upside down; their fur provides a host habitat for moths, beetles, fungi and (ugh!) cockroaches; when agitated, the sloth can travel at a top speed of 0.15 mph.  Way to hustle, Mr. Sloth!)

As dusk nears on our first day on the river, our drivers bring all four of the Aria's skiffs together on a sandy bank for cocktail hour, Amazon style.  We are served chilled mimosas and a tasty variety of nuts wrapped in decorative palm leaf pouches.  A most civilized way to end a perfect day in Peru.

Day two is to begin with a 6 a.m. call as we want to be on the river early to search for elusive capybara and slithering anaconda.  Bill is so excited that he wakes me at  5 a.m., raring to go.  Ouch!  Finally the others are ready and we set out with Daniel as our guide and Freddie captaining the skiff.  We travel up the Pacaya River into the 5 million-acre Reserva National Pacaya-Samiria, home to over 500 bird species and around 100 types of mammals.

We are overwhelmed by the birds -- the Jabiru stork (here from Belize only for breeding season), cormorants, yellow-cheek and orange-wing parrots, long-horned screamers (aka donkey birds for the braying noise they make), ringed kingfishers, etc.  Adding to the unique sounds of the river are the pecky-pecky engines on the dugout canoes, usually small lawn mower motors.





Still, we are looking for the giant anaconda and so we search the banks, pulling in close under fallen trees and vines to peer into the dense undergrowth.  No anaconda are found, but Daniel gives it his all.  Hard work, this anaconda hunting!  We motor on, curious about the holes in the muddy banks left exposed in the low water season.  These holes are made by walking catfish (Clarias batrachus, thank you), air-breathing fish who can "walk" using their pectoral fins for as long as they stay moist.  Very odd.  





Finally -- time for breakfast!  The skiffs raft up together along a shaded bank and the crew produce fresh-squeezed juice, hot coffee served in china cups and a selection of fruits and breads.  Amazing feast!  We enjoy this river delight while watching a bluish-fronted jacamar dine on dragonflies.  To each his own!






Afterward breakfast, we go fishing....for piranhas!!  Daniel ties the skiff to a low-hanging branch near the muddy shore, and hands each of us a short cane pole rigged with a four foot section of line and a simple hook.  Chopped raw chicken serves as the bait and we are instructed to slap the end of the pole on the water's surface a few times to get the attention of the little biters.  (They don't see too well in the murky river water.)  Then, wait for the bite and yank quickly upwards.  It works!  David nabs a big red-bellied piranha first and everyone else follows suit.  Even Nita, who was not optimistic at first, catches one of the bad boys.





These small fish have a deservedly bad reputation, although Daniel claims that Hollywood created most of the fear factor.  Still, their teeth are something to behold.  We toss most of the piranha back (who wants a biting creature, no matter how small, loose in the boat?) but two large ones are saved to become hawk bait.  Daniel skewers one of the fish with a hollow stick and launches it away from the skiff.  Nearby, a vigilant hawk watches, then makes three attempts before successfully grasping the floating piranha in her claws for a clean getaway.




As we return to the Aria from our morning excursion, we are offered cold, scented hand towels........."to refresh."  This is nothing like the rugged Amazon adventure we had imagined!
Let's do lunch!




Once again the American's skiff is the last to leave the mother ship as we set out for an afternoon tour with Roger in charge.  Our futile search for the "Common Anaconda" continues, but Nita and Bill do spot a teeny, bright white frog.  The skies are filled with birds again -- short-tailed parrots and festive parrots and mealy parrots, anhingas, too.   Scarlet macaws and black collared hawks and yellow-headed caracaras.  Oh, my!  Roger spots a "Watson" bird perched in a river-side tree.  Actually it is a "hoatzin", a spectacularly crested prehistoric creature that has claws on its wings and an unfeathered 
blue face.  Very handsome!



Just as anatomically unlikely as the hoatzin is the terrestrial capybara.  This hairy fellow has the distinction of being the world's largest rodent.  They are hunted by the indigenous peoples of the Amazon for their meat and skins.  At up to 100 lbs. and standing about 2 feet at the shoulder, that's a lot of rodent.  But kind of fetching in their own way, I think.




Sunset comes to this equatorial region routinely at 6 p.m. and it is routinely gorgeous.  We abandon our search for the elusive anaconda and set our sights on jungle jaguar as the light fades.  Roger has a car battery powered spotlight and uses it to scan the banks of the twisting Pacaya River as we slowly head back to the Aria. The jaguar fail to appear for us and Roger finds only a slippery spectacled Caiman which he gamely brings aboard for us to admire.



The remainder of the return river ride to the Aria is a magical reminder that there are still huge colonies of fireflies in the world, and bright moonlight and unknown constellations; even the Milky Way is clearly visible here in the Amazon night sky.  Occasional sweeps of the spotlight to search for floating logs or other hazards in our path reveal pairs of disembodied red eyes along the banks and the occasional fishing bat flitting overhead.

The third day of our Amazon tour dawns cool and overcast.  Nita decides to remain on the Aria for the morning so only Leslye, David, Bill and I set off with Julio.  Our destination is a riverside village of about 200 people called Contamanillo, 530 miles north of Lima.  Each year, as snow in the Andes melts and begins its slow, downstream glide, erosion pulls the soil away from the river banks, taking steps and railings and other man-made improvements away.  The Amazon and its many tributaries rise a remarkable 35 feet between low-water and high-water seasons.




We disembark from the skiffs and climb to the top of the rickety steps where we are met by Isabel and Arnoldo who turn out to be long lost cousins of Julio!  As they catch up on family matters, Isabel shows off the bucketful of fish they caught just this morning. I cant resist the lure of a walking catfish but find him quite prickly.




Word of the outsiders' arrival travels fast, and soon curious children surround us.  The little girls want to hold hands with Leslye and one of the little boys sports a green parakeet on his shoulder.  A large pig is penned near the town's edge and we learn that he serves as an "insurance policy" for the villagers.  Should someone in the village need, say, an operation, the pig could be traded to another village for some other form of barter and so on until the deal is complete.  Very efficient.




We are invited into the home of a local family -- an open air affair that is raised about 5 feet off the ground.  There is a cook fire on the platform and something is rapidly boiling.   One child holds on to his momma, who is pregnant, while an older boy shows us the hand-made grater that they use to slice the manioc root that forms a large portion of their diet.  Families eat only twice a day here, and water for all their needs comes from the river.   Children are especially prone to water-borne illness and parents treat them with the milky sap of the oje tree mixed with sugar cane juice.  The oje is known as the "doctor" tree and apparently one good dose of this concoction will last for a lifetime.







As a special treat, the young children of the village gather in the schoolroom to entertain us.  One by one they introduce themselves, shyly, and then sing a few short songs as a group.  Mothers with babies look on as the 31 of us, tourists from around the world, are then invited to introduce ourselves.  We are prompted to say, "Me llamo David.  Soy de Estados Unidos."  Etc.  After each of us stumbles through this with our own name, the children repeat the name while enthusiastically clapping out the number of syllables it has.  This is done with great enthusiasm.






After the introductions it is our turn to sing for the children!  Whose idea is this?  The Japanese contingent of twelve goes first with a lyrical rendition of "Ue O Muite Arukou", better known to U.S. audiences as "Sukiyaki."  The bar is set really high!  Next the Aussies, who number 8, step up with a rousing version of "Waltzing Matilda."  We are called on third, and since Nita stayed back on the Aria, we have little chance of staying on (or even finding) the right key.  But Leslye is determined and we manage a creditable version of "The Eyes of Texas."

Finally, Roger asks the children to tell us what they would like to be when they grow up -- the standard question to school kids.  One boy says 'policeman' and others agree that this would be great.  One little girl wants to be a teacher, another a doctor and then a small hand in the back of the room comes up.  "I," she says quite seriously, "want to be a tourist!!"  We must be good role models!

The village tour was a great success and eye-opening and we all returned to the boat with renewed appreciation of our own circumstances.  As we approached the Aria, eager for cool drinks and a yummy meal, we could clearly see Nita walking on the treadmill in the second floor exercise room.  Way to go, Mom!



Another delicious lunch, another quiet siesta and we are ready for the final expedition of our Amazon adventure.  Too soon!!   Neyser guides us to an area where pink river dolphin are abundant.  They are reticent to come too close, but surface all around our skiff to give us a peek....always too fast and too stealthy to be well photographed.  Alas.  We motor from the river into Lake Clavero for canoeing and swimming. (Are there piranha?)





Women and girls in long, dugout canoes seem to appear from nowhere to surround the skiffs.  What fun!  Nita and Leslye climb cautiously down into the first canoe and are quickly off to the races.  David and I follow, joining two young sisters -- Lidia and Mara -- in a quite long and obviously old, wooden canoe.  The paddle that I am given weighs about 15 pounds and is almost impossible for me to operate.  Luckily our skills are not needed at all and we have a nice, short ride.  It was Nita's first time ever in a canoe -- a birthday treat, for sure.

All this hard physical labor earns us a treat and a refreshing swim in the lake is just the ticket -- for some.  This means only Leslye and David in our group, although Nita does dip her toes in just for bragging rights.
 



It is hard to imagine that our guides (and all the behind-the-scenes crew) could top the experiences that we have had to date.  But....after swimming and canoeing and piranha fishing and fine dining and bird watching and sloth spying and anaconda hunting and all the other adventures....they do!

Our skiffs are gently beached and we come ashore (each in our own special way) to enjoy an alfresco cocktail party.  Fancy hors d'oeuvres, chilled champagne, wine and beer, lounge chairs and tiki torches -- they thought of everything and it is a very memorable farewell party.




But it didn't end there!  Back on the Aria for our last evening on the river we all gather in the lounge before dinner.  Stories are told and photos swapped.  Promises made to keep in touch and cards exchanged.  And then, crew and passengers join together to sing "Happy Birthday" to Nita.  It is good to be ninety in this adoring crowd!  She has charmed them all -- the Aussies and the Kiwis, the Japanese, Peruvians, Israelis and Greeks, passengers and crew alike -- and this is no surprise to the four of us.  We've been charmed for years!

So, yes, we could have spent the low-water season wending our way south in Let's Dance, and probably found the Amazon, too.  But who wants to spend all that time getting there when you could spend all that time being there?   Exploring the amazing Amazon turned out to be a great way to spend Nita's 90th birthday.  Now the only question is, "What will we do for her 100th?"



Stay tuned!!  But for now, Let's Dance........Carol and Bill