After finishing breakfast, we loaded up. Since I was coming back to the Holiday Inn in 4 days, they kept my big 50 lb travel bag in storage. I really packed light and had just a back pack and a small gym bag.
We took his nice BMW to the Amazon River docking station. A very busy place. There were a lot of light cargo boats, river taxi's and a few speed boats at his very busy launching area. After Milton negotiated a taxi boat passage and grabbed a couple of liters of bottled water, we were off. The main Amazon River is in Manaus and we were about to cross this very busy waterway to the south side of the river. I was very hot, humid and sticky. There was a reason for my uncomfortable state. I had read where one should wear long sleeve shirt and pants to keep mosquitos from biting. So the ugly American did just that. About 10 minutes into the boat ride, Obama Jr. could see my uncomfortable situation. He said that I really didn't need to dress for mosquitos since they are only a problem at night. Huh, the research I was following didn't say that. What I eventually learned was that mosquito problems occur generally at night. There are exceptions: after a good rain and when traveling in the primary jungle. Homes in the Amazon Basin have shutters on their homes where they literally encapsulate their homes at night. Mosquitos swarm a lot at night.
Well. into my bag I went and literally undressed on the boat, putting on cargo shorts and a short sleeve Marshall Thundering Herd T-shirt. Took off my hiking boots and put on my Croq slip ons. Wow what a difference. The fast pace of the taxi boat also created a nice breeze that helped cool my sweaty body.
About 20 minutes into our crossing the main Amazon River, Milton had the boat driver stop. He was to show me where the Negroe River, coming from the NW, Columbia and Venezuela. plus the Madeira River ,from the south and Bolivia, joined up with the main Amazon River. It was evident where they met. The Amazon River was very brown/muddy and the Negroe/Madeira Rivers are very clear. You could actually see where they met. Also, Milton had me touch the water in the muddy waters of the Amazon, where it was very warm while the other two rivers were very cool.
We made it to the south side at a river town called Caniero, where we met Ceciliaro Maia. Ceci, as he liked to be called, was the owner of the lodge where I was to stay. I said my good byes to Obama Jr. while Ceci and I climbed into his VW with bald tires and headed out to the highway. Before we left Caniero, Ceci stopped at several roadside stands to pick up fresh veggies, fruit and the "catches of the day". Once we completed our shopping we spent the first 45 minutes on a rather smooth highway. Then we hit the off road, and now the adventure begins. The next hour we spent driving on the most impossible roads you could imagine. Too say it was bumpy, slick, due to recent rains, and swimming pool size pots holes would be an understatement. It made some of the back roads Ive experienced in Mexico seem like Interstate highways. After rocking and rolling, with an evident experienced driver of these roads like Ceci, we arrived which seemed to be a weigh or river station. I at first thought this was where we were going to stay. Thank goodness it wasn't. There were chickens and ducks roaming the area. A rooster actually attacked me. An outhouse that smelled up the entire area was not too encouraging. But, it was only a stop. I watched Ceci as he argued an apparent fee with the "harbor master". Ceci left his car parked in a stall as I grabbed my gear and helped carry the watermelon we picked up at one of the roadside stands.
Everyone aboard, well it was just Ceci and I. Off we went on what I was to find out later was the Murutinga River. We were about to spend the next two hours traveling on several Amazon tributaries to the south of Manaus. Ceci revved up the power and we were zipping along at quite a fast pace. He obviously knew the waters well as we cut between trees and bushes that lined the river. NASCAR drivers have nothing on this guy. We were traveling on the Murutica River, after about 45 minutes we ran onto a beautiful lake called the Macorico. After about 30 minutes we funneled into another river called the Mamori. This was a short 20 minute ride until we met our "home" river called the Juma River, named after an indigenous Indian tribe that still had some presence in the area.
Along the way on this trip, as we got deeper down river, the foliage and general scenery was so beautifully green, the air was crisp, clear with a sense of a clean environment. We also stopped and witness some pink and grey dolphins. Yes, Pink. Ironically you would think the pink ones were female. Nope, the male species are colored pink. The smaller grey dolphins are female. I tried for days to get a picture of either of these dolphins, but to no avail.
We arrived at the base lodge where I would be living the next few days. I was assigned to my thatched roof hut with a hammock on the small front porch. Ended up spending a lot of time in that thing. It has a queen sized bed with two additional singles. A bathroom was through a door in the back of the hut. You had to step down to the bathroom that had a sink and a shower, all one unit. I found out later the sink and shower water came from rain that falls on a daily basis. If they come up short on potable water, they would turn on a pump that would feed water right from the Juma River. The bed had a large mosquito netting that I covered myself with at night. I never had any issues with mosquitos at night. Some of that had to do with the repellent I used, recommended by my daughter Erika. It was called Deet, and boy did it work well.
Okay time for lunch. At lunch, I was to meet my primary guide Magro Soares. Magro was 30 years old, recently married. His wife worked in Manaus for an IT company. He spoke very good English, so we never had a communication problem. Lunch consisted of fish, a standard staple for every meal, called Tucanere (Peacock Bass), chicken, tabuli like salad, rice and watermelon. Beer was a standard drink for me. When we were heading into the Juma River we stopped at a boat house along the shore that severed as a gas station, general store and bar. I encouraged Ceci to get a case of beer. I wasn't going to test drinking the water, so why not substitute it with beer. So every meal I drank beer. At lunch I met another tourist, Vincent. A very white guy, a bit skittish and couldn't have weighed more than 140 lbs, sort of a beanpole. He was from Madrid, but worked for Deutche Bank in London. He had been there a few days but was leaving tomorrow.
Next was siesta for 2 hours, this happened every day. I sort of liked that idea. After siesta was over we headed out on the Juma River to find what was to be a fishing spot for catching piranha. Now we are cooking. We got to the spot, under a tree along the bank. Piranha are shoreline dwellers. You do not find them in a current middle of a river or a lake. We were using a Huckelberry Finn type bamboo pole with a standard hook. We used chicken skin, probably left over from lunch, as our bait of choose, Vincent, we found out, had never fished. Really? So Magro and I had to help him bait his hook. After about five minutes were were getting nibbles. About this time a noticed a small pair of eyes staring up at me along the front of the boat. This was an infant caiman (alligator) about 3 feet. Caimans do not get very big. They, at maturity, grow to only 5-6 feet, but they are as vicious as bigger alligators you might find elsewhere in the world. So Magro, my guide, tells me to go ahead and reach in the water and pick it up. He gives instructions to not make any fast movements. I'm to pick it up firmly just behind its head. After a bit of apprehensiveness, I pick it up as instructed. Piece of cake. I have a good video of it on FaceBook. After learning a few things about caimans its time to release him/her. Once we perform our catch and release performance, I ask Magro, "what would have happened if I didnt pick it up correctly". Answer, " it might have bitten off a finger". Really dude, you are telling me this after Ive handle this thing? we need a bit better communication. After releasing Oscar, I had to give it a name, Vincent has snagged the first piranha. Needless to say he doesnt want any part of it. Magro unhooks the fish and asks if he wants to hold it...ah h no. Just as this is happening I snag my first beast...well maybe that is a bit exaggerated. Ive caught what is considered the most vicious of the species, a red bellied piranha. Ive always envisioned piranhas being these big man eating fish. Well, thats sort of true. Piranhas only get as big as your fist. Must be Hollywood horror films that gave me the impression they were bigger. Magro says these fish are very dangerous in schools. They hang around the shallow shores of rivers as to look for animals that wonder out to the shallow parts of a river to drink. This is when these vicious animals attack. According to Magro, these schools can devour a small armadillo, tapir or opossum in about 10-15 minutes in these parts. If a larger animal, such as a monkey or sloth wades out too deep, they too can
be devoured. All in all we catch about 10 of these buggers. Of course the rookie catches 4 of them.
We apparently are going to have these for lunch one day. I ask Magro, "what do piranhas taste like?". As soon as I said it I knew it was a stupid question. Magro gave me a confused look and said, "Like fish!". Well duh.
On the way back to the lodge and just before dark, we follow a smaller river off the main one we were on. we are looking for squirrel monkeys in the trees. We remain very quite with the boat engine off. Soon, there was a rustling in the distant trees, and soon it become louder and all the trees were shaking. There were about 200-300 of these squirrel monkeys jumping from tree to tree and were quickly on the move. They were still a bit far away for my camera, so we just sat there for about 10 minutes watching this phenomenon. Magro says they were going deeper into the jungle to be safer during the night. It got pretty loud for awhile with their squeals and tree limbs shaking.
Okay time for dinner. We make it back to lodge, where I go take my 3rd shower for the day. It got pretty hot and sticky during the day. After my quick shower, dinner is ready. I also meet Ceci's family. The family lives on the property and runs the place. Ceci's wife Christina, cooks, cleans and maintains the huts and grounds. Stephana, is their youngest daughter, and she helps her mother in the evening. She is about 12 years old and goes to the Catholic School down river. More about her later. The youngest son is about 16, Maua, I think. I didn't see him much but in the evening. He runs errands along the river in his boat and helps maintain the hardscape of the property. Ceci has two older children, a boy and a girl. The daughter is married and lives a little further down the river. The son lives in Manaus and works for LG electronics. Ceci's family has lived here for generations. He is from a distant tribe that no longer exists, I failed to get the name because he seem to not really talk about it.
Dinner is served. An excellent chicken soup with vegetables, tomato and cucumber salad, white rice, pasta and of course what would a dinner be out here without chicken. I did find out that the river population doesn't eat much meat, if at all. Chicken is treated as a luxury. So most meals are jungle grown/based vegetables and fish. So you could say they are pectitarians(sp), as most animals are as well, except for the larger cat animals in this area, like the jaguars.
After dinner, and its dark out here with no moon, city sky or street lights. But there are thousands on thousands of stars. Ive seen so many. Well we are now going out in the boat to look for caiman (and why?) and gigging for fish. Ceci and Magro both are on this trip. We launch our boat in complete darkness. I cant see a thing , but Ceci in the back seems to where he is going. After about ten minutes they both start shining their flashlights toward the shore. They shine the lights looking for glares from the caimans eyes. Ceci seems to be able to determine the size of the caimans jsut by the size of their eyes. We spot several. We do come across a rather large one of about 6-7 feet, according to Ceci. We proceed to move into a mangrove, a very swampy and shallow area (about 1-2 feet). Again only, using their flashlights. I bet our Spanish friend is about to shit his pants. But, he did bring his camera. I didn't damn it, but what was I going to take a picture of? I would have my answer shortly. We are cruising along, when all of the sudden Magro jumps out of the boat and starts running in the shallow waters with his flashlight. After a lot of splashing the dude comes back with a 5ft caiman in hand. He has him wrestled along the neck. It is a black speckled caiman. What a beautiful animal. Vincent takes a few pictures, I hope to get copies from him soon. After we all get to touch the smooth and leather like body. We release it back to its habitat.
Next, fish gigging. Now I remember a little about gigging. I use to go with my cousins Gary and Mike Adkins in Beech Fork, West Virginia gigging at night for frogs. This is about the same thig. The gig is a long bamboo pole with a small 3 prong metal end. Ceci now has moved to the front of the boat as he is the local expert at this endeavor. He has a pole in one hand and a flashlight in his mouth. Splash, after about 10 minutes he has caught 8 fish, peacock bass and a fish called an acara. we head back to the lodge. Im exhausted. Started the day at midnight puking my guts out, taking a four hour trip on water, then land, then water again, deeper into the Amazon Basin, and a full day of activities. We get back to the lodge and Im ready for bed. I take but another shower and head for my mosquito net protected bed. I ay down but I cant sleep. Seems Im still keyed up, but Im really enjoying hearing all the noises of the jungle. Each time I tried to doze of Id hear a different noise in the jungle. This went on for about two hours before I finally went to sleep. In the middle of the night I was awakened by a noise far out in the jungle, like a rushing of leaves. It was rain coming from the jungle toward the lodge. As it was approaching us it sounded like a freight train coming. The rain was intense and falling very hard. The rain hitting the thatched roof on my hut made a loud noise as well. It reminded me of the times I would spend at my grandfather Pa Stephenson's log home with its tin roof in West Virginia. Back then, I was scared to death hearing that rain and sometimes hail hitting that tin roof. Now, it was just a soothing sound that quickly put me to sleep.
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